Year One:
Hot Mess. Both of us.
I was more angry at Husband during this time period than I'd ever been with any person, thing or circumstance in my life.
I was also inconsolable.
At this early stage I was acutely aware that I was angry about much, much more than the infidelity, but the infidelity was sucking all of the oxygen out of my lungs.
I was stunned at the sudden loss of trust, out of left field. Not only had he gone there, he'd actually stepped over that line, he'd quite deliberately misled me about it. I'd spent years believing a lie.
The husband I thought I knew died a (metaphorical) long, slow, painful death during Year One. It took a solid six months of trickle truth, denial, defensiveness and even defiance before Husband began to get his head wrapped around the concept that the genie was out of the bottle and was refusing to go back in.
He wasn't going to be able to bullshit his way out of it this time around.
Year One was about coming to terms with the loss of innocence in our marriage.
Year One, zero stars, do not recommend.
Year Two:
I began to sort out *why* I was so angry, specifically.
Of course I was angry at the infidelity.
Year Two was when I began to be more upset about the deliberate dishonesty, and also when I became downright furious about the trickle truth during the first year. It was insult on top of injury. How stupid do you think I am? Here's a clue: I'm no longer the innocent young wife and mother with two preschool babies and a first house in escrow, praying that you didn't do A Thing bad enough to match that guilty look on your face, and too ready to believe you didn't.
Year Two was when I also began identifying and sorting out my own codependency, although I hadn't yet fully owned it.
I'd been living on hopium for decades:
"It'll be better when:" fill in the blank.
It'll be better when:
We get out of this shitty apartment (dirt cheap rent while we saved the necessary money) and into a house.
When Husband grows up a little more.
When the holidays are over, and I'm not trying to make and keep everyone else happy while working full time with two kids in tow.
When Husband's big project is over.
When Husband grows up a little more.
When our kids get through this challenging age.
When Husband's big project is over.
When Husband's parents get over their latest version/round of butt hurt.
When the fucking holidays are over gawd how I hate fucking Christmas and the huge deal MIL makes about getting her way every fucking year regardless of how we are working our asses off over here and we have barely fifteen minutes with our own kids. And the huge fucking Christmas fight Husband and I have EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. over it and NOTHING ever changes: MIL gets her way with a nice slice of drama on the side.
I've since realized that MIL knew damned good and well that she was causing drama and turmoil and that was part of her fun.
WILL THIS MAN EVER GROW THE FUCK UP?
And for most of that time I had a smile on my face and a 'happy attitude' because you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, right?
I now look back and realize that I was trying to 'nice' Husband and his FOO out of being big fat entitled dicks. I was doing the non-stop 'pick me dance' not against another woman, unless my MIL counts, which is a damned interesting premise, but against the entire fucking world.
I spent *years* being my husband's bottom fucking priority while he chased validation far and wide, and avoided conflict, and made everyone else in the world happy at my expense and at the expense of our marriage.
In Year Two it dawned on me that I'd spent too many lonely years slogging through life with a largely physically absent and almost totally emotionally unavailable partner. I'd self soothed for years by clinging to my husband's narrative that all of these external demands were indeed *that* vitally important (of course they were, ego kibbles and conflict avoidance uber alles) and that this, that or the other thing would be "over soon" and then we'd have time for each other.
Only guess what? That never happened. Wasn't gonna happen.
There weren't enough ego kibbles in the world to fill up the sucking soul wound Husband's parents had inflicted, and that they continued to inflict at every opportunity.
And for all those years, I'd soothed and comforted myself by telling myself that it was all OK, Husband really did love me, and his untarnished fidelity was proof.
And Husband was more than happy to let me believe that. In and of itself, that might have been merciful, if it wasn't so fucking self-serving on his part.
Imagine how it felt to have that narrative ripped out from under me out of nowhere, and to find out that it had actually been ripped out from under me *years* earlier.
I was *shattered.*
People often say that Year Two is more difficult, for precisely this reason: we spend it meeting the actual demons, not reeling in shock from the blow.
While we were going through Year Two I would have told you that things were getting better.
Looking back on it, Year Two was literally hell. I wasn't getting 'better' necessarily. I was getting back up on my feet after being sucker punched, and I was still mad as hell, and the anger was fueling me, sustaining me. It was giving me the impetus to kick over a whole lot of rocks and to tear down a lot of false constructs and bullshit in my marriage and in my life.
I gave up on the outcome in Year Two. I didn't give a flying fuck if we ended up divorced. Maybe that's what needed to happen. Maybe it should have already happened. Maybe it will happen. Either way, we're coming to Jesus and we're coming right the fuck now. Batten down the hatches, Jesus, we're coming in hot.
I tore the whole marriage down with my bare hands in Year Two. No sacred cows. Not one.
Year Two particularly toward the middle and the end, was when Husband really started getting some traction in his own work. He began to clearly see his avoidance, detachment and dysfunction. He continued to show up for us, but he was also beginning to want changes in his life and in his way of dealing with life for himself, regardless of whether the marriage survived.
Husband's burgeoning self awareness was the bright spot of Year Two.
Husband drew some remarkably strong lines around work life balance. Like, truly hardball, take no prisoners stuff. I was in "I'll believe it when I see it" mode but damned if he didn't follow all the way through. He walked the walk, literally. As a result, we have our life back. That's all him. He did that!
We did not share our difficulties with the FOO, nor even with our own immediate family, so it came as something of THE MOTHER OF ALL BAD TIMING surprises when a couple of colorful personalities spooled up and started acting out in their characteristically colorful fashion.
I swear to God, narcissists, sociopaths and garden variety toxic people have a fucking sixth sense about this shit. Even if you are as quiet as the grave about your struggles, they will show up out of nowhere to punch your buttons at the most sensitive times.
We *were* as silent as the grave outside of our own household during Years One and Two. Maybe that itself was the trigger. Nosey narcissists knew something was up, and poked us to see what would come tumbling out.
At one point we were getting tag teamed: Husband's parents on one side showing their asses about the holidays in truly spectacular form even for them, and an insidious narcissist from another part of our lives who was hell bent on creating drama out of thin air. We suspect that there was/is a whole other agenda going on there, and we were merely pawns in a larger game. It was, weird. Bizarre. This makes no fucking sense at all sort of stuff.
In the past, my conflict avoiding, validation seeking, ego kibble chasing husband would have immediately thrown me and us under the bus, then boarded the bus, hopped in the driver's seat, and rolled over me three or four more times just to make sure all of these Very Important People knew he was on Team Them.
Because, conflict avoidance, people pleasing, ego kibbles uber alles, of course.
It was absolutely breathtaking to hear my husband tell my Holiday Acting Out MIL to take her gaslighting and manipulations and go pound sand.
Not those exact words, but damned close enough.
It was all the more stunning because it genuinely emanated from *him.*
I mean, to me it was just Holiday From Hell #4,678,563: Same As It Ever Was. I was indeed holding Husband's feet to the fire during Year Two, but MIL's stupid reindeer games were the least of my concerns at that point.
The important thing is:
Husband saw it,
Husband recognized it for what it was,
HUSBAND WAS OVER IT,
Husband handled it, decisively, firmly, and without throwing me or us under the bus.
Ditto the narcissist that came out of left field. She and her husband were fucking with me, and trying to recruit Husband, trying to drive a wedge in between us. Long triangulation story but I suspect this is actually a control struggle/ power play going on in this other couple, between this narcissistic wife and her husband. My husband and her husband were very close. I don't think she can stand for her husband to have anyone in his life except for her. She didn't feel on solid ground to test that bond, but she could damned sure come after *me,* another female.
Anyway, Husband saw through this and shut it down cold right quick. Again, breathtaking to watch. I was stunned.
On the other hand, the end of Year Two saw me starting to drift into an entrenched bitterness over it all.
Even though Husband acted stunningly appropriately and courageously in the face of it, getting goaded by those narcissists at that time was a stark litmus test of how devalued I and we had become in our own lives.
I was becoming an unacceptable level of snarky, contemptuous and disdainful toward Husband.
Husband then had to stand up to *me,* without returning my bad attitude in kind, and without throwing me under the bus.
He did it, he stood up to me, fairly enough.
It wasn't perfect but it was damned near close enough for where we were and what we'd been through.
Year Two, two stars, proceed with caution.
Which brings us to Year Three:
In Year Three we are not discussing the actual infidelity, nor those specific why's, nearly as much as we are discussing the other myriad of damages to our marriage and to us as individuals.
I can listen to Husband's damages and why's and actually *hear* them, not just dismiss them as excuses or deflections.
Boundaries with other people and with other situations continue to strengthen. This has nothing to do with sexual or romantic infidelity, but has everything to do with valuing our marriage and our individual agency.
I am honestly beginning to trust Husband with non-material things that are important to me: time, attention, preferences priorities. I believe he understands that what's mine is mine, what's ours is ours, and it's not all his to give away at will for ego kibbles, for validation, and to avoid conflict for himself.
I believe that in particular, he now sees and recognizes that those demands by the toxic people in our lives were about their own narcissistic supply. This isn't 'love' coming from them, and he doesn't have a 'duty' to throw his wife under the bus to demonstrate 'loyalty' or 'love.'
This is not what loyalty, love or respect looks like. This is what narcissism looks like, and we've been the supply for too long.
Coincidentally, as something of a weird Freudian Flourish on Year Three, we had to negotiate a strange sort of political/social situation with *yet another narcissist* during this past year.
By this point I was beginning to wonder if I was seeing narcissists hiding behind every tree. Is it me?
No, no, it's not me. We weren't the only people negotiating this situation and we weren't the only people raising eyebrows and pointing at an over inflated sense of self importance.
I bring this up because I find it interesting from a demographic perspective:
Recent works on narcissism skew toward increasing levels of narcissism in current times, and especially in younger generations. Participation trophies, helicopter parenting, safe spaces and the like are to blame according to these authors.
In our experience, in these examples, three out of the four people mentioned are older than we are. Only one is a GenX.
Interesting.
The hallmarks of narcissism in each are pretty undeniable, regardless.
I guess this interim has been our Late in Life Crash Course in Boundaries, courtesy of The Narcissists in Our Lives.
I do believe that we are firmly in reconciliation now.
Year Three, four out of five stars, recommend with optimism.
[This message edited by marriageredux959 at 7:17 AM, March 17th (Wednesday)]