About seven years ago, I became the worst woman I could imagine. Self-esteem, integrity, and self-respect disappeared when my husband cheated.
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Now you all know what happens when you assume. My marriage was going through what I thought was a rough patch, but being the perpetual optimist I am, I took things would get better and was not coping with my marriage. Yes, I became an ass. And so was he. He may still be.
Our oldest daughter had just moved off to college, and I was in a bit of a depression. I was working a physically challenging job seven days a week and not enjoying life.
Little did I know that my husband (now ex) was having an affair. I can see the signs in hindsight, but not while I was in the middle.
Things were coming to a head in our marriage by late fall, and after an ugly confrontation, I told him to leave. Sounds good. I was putting my foot down. This lasted about a week, and I soon succumbed to my all too understanding, empathetic side of myself. I forgave him, let him return home, and even told the other woman I did not blame her.
Boy, was I not just an idiot but a prize-winning one at that!
My husband and I spent a lot of time together for a few weeks, and things looked better. Till the day he called me and asked me to meet him for lunch.
His voice told me this would not be a wine and romance lunch. I quickly calculated in my head and knew what he would say even before I arrived.
She was pregnant!
We laughed and cried at the absurdity. For our 24 years of marriage, we had four pregnancies, 2 of which resulted in miscarriages. I always wanted a big family, but he only wanted 2, which we have together.
He returned to work, and I drove away, trying not to throw up or scream. I called my closest friend, who knew all our ugly secrets, and met her for some support. I think I did the screaming part in my car. Throwing up came later.
As the words came tumbling out about the baby, I suggested I would stay with him and help him raise his child. Can you believe that? My logic was if I was willing to forgive the affair, how could I not excuse a child who was an unforeseen result? Sounds logical. Well, at least it did to me at the time. I was so desperate to cling to any shred of my marriage I completely ignored myself, my true self.
Fast forward three months, and I was still trying to make things work. Without a better term, “the other woman” was a bit dramatic and made things even more difficult. She had various “unidentifiable” issues with her pregnancy and trouble taking care of her other three kids, and she really “needed” his support during this time. Excuse all the quotes, but I can’t find a key for eye-rolling and sarcasm.
I lived each day for my husband, and I did not even begin to address how I handled things. Not only did I stand by this man, but I stood up for him. I took her meals for her family. I prayed for her and the baby. I even came up with the baby’s name and helped him plan the cost of support, visitation, and the whole thing. To this day, I bet she doesn’t know that I came up with his name.
I was so desperate to cling to any shred of my marriage I completely ignored myself, my true self.
On the day of her ultrasound, he said he needed to go. Funny, he didn’t remember not coming to all my tests.
I was a wreck all morning at work. I wanted to cry, scream, throw things, anything. But there I was at work, trying to hold it all together.
After her appointment, he called me to tell me how it went and that it was a boy. He did this while in the parking lot with her. Then he showed up at my work with flowers for me.
That was it. I had had enough. Later that night, after emptying a rather large bottle of wine with my friend and wallowing in my sorrow. I threw him out.
I was done. Or so I thought.
I wish I could say I was strong and fierce at this point, but I wasn’t. There were more battles and more hemorrhaging of what remained of our marriage before it was finally over.
I believed in my weaknesses instead of my strengths.
Why was I putting myself through this?
Misguided faith and fear (Reasons I stayed as long as I did)
- I believed in my vows. They were not just between my husband and me but also with God. If I walked away, I was walking away from my vow to God, and my misguided faith believed my faithfulness would reward me with a successful marriage.
- The desire for perfectionism. I wanted to be the person who always had her life together, and people would look up to me. I could not allow myself to fail and viewed divorce as failing.
- I was afraid. I believed I couldn’t live on my own. I could not imagine raising my kids alone, caring for a house, and supporting myself. We always did everything together. I thought he was my prince charming. I was losing everything.
What I lost had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.
I failed to realize that I had already lost the most important thing a person can have: self-respect.
I gave up all control over myself to this man and this woman and gave them my self-respect. I thought I was teaching my children integrity, but instead, I taught them how to lose themself. It was so easy to degrade myself in the name of misguided honor. I always thought I was a strong woman, but this took me to my knees, and I surrendered to all my fears. I became a shell of the person I thought I was.
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Within a few months of our final split, my kids and I moved into a new home and began our new life.
It was difficult to have things end this way, but trying to stitch it back together with the shreds of our marriage was much more challenging. The amazing part is once I completely let go and realized what I was doing to myself, my healing began. It took time, but my wounds began healing, my heart became whole again, and I found what I lost — me.
My tipping point was thinking about my girls in the same situation and what I would want for them. I realized how much I let my kids and myself down.
This experience showed me where my beliefs were my undoing. I trusted entirely in my husband; I believed in the teachings of my faith, and I believed in my weaknesses instead of my strengths.
It was hard, damn hard, picking myself back up. But I did it. When I finally started to believe in myself, I became unstoppable. It has taken a lot of time and self-evaluation, but I know now the only thing that can truly take me down is myself.
A well-written article published in The Good Men Project , “How to Stop Being a Doormat and Regain Your Self-Respect,” provides valuable insight into why many of us behave this way.
For most of us codependent, passive-types, we’re afraid of hurting people’s feelings, we’re afraid of rejection or people walking out of our lives, we’re afraid of conflict, we’re afraid of being seen as difficult, we’re afraid that our needs won’t be met even if we ask. It’s safest and easiest to be a doormat.
The article also explains how to become stronger and regain self-respect and power over your life. It is worth taking the time to read when you finish reading here.
Life is full of awful things, and I never want to see another person do to themselves what I did. We are the one constant in our lives and deserve to love and respect ourselves.
Because if we do not stand up for ourselves, no one else will. People will take everything they can till we say they can’t.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Edu Lauton on Unsplash