Divorce after Twenty years together Community Group
I want to start something for those of us that were married for a long long time. I think that we face a little different issues than those who were dating for a few years or even married for shorter period of time. Being married for so long we have older children some have grandkids dealing with teenagers and their reaction to the divorice empty nesters dating after 40...
4 Lessons Learned: 20 Years After My Affair
Reflections on what I’ve learned and what I wish I’d known twenty years ago. by Tim Tedder
I remember one particular afternoon in college when, for some reason, I became deeply contemplative during a walk from class to my dorm room. My considerations turned to future expectations, imagining what path my life would take. What would I be doing in the decades to come? How successful would I be? What would my wife look like? How many children would we have? What would it feel like to live the life of my choosing? I tried to imagine it all.
I stopped in front of Pickett Hall and thought, “I’m going to always remember this moment.” I wanted that day’s thoughts of hope to be a measure against whatever realities would eventually come in years ahead.
What my life became was not too far off that measure. I was married to a beautiful woman and we had five children together. (Okay, maybe there were only two kids in my original imaginations, but she easily persuaded me to expand my vision.) I was respected and successful in my career with invitations to new opportunities. So far, so good.
Then came The Fall. I had an affair. My life took a turn never considered during that college walk. It twisted into something nearly unrecognizable.
The details of my affair are really no different from thousands of other similar stories. The short version is this: I was frustrated in my marriage. I felt irresistibly drawn to another woman. I wanted nothing more than to experience every pleasure of being with her. I lost my job. I lost my marriage. I broke the hearts of my children. I went through several years of darkness before healing began.
After healing, friends encouraged me to build on my past counseling experienced (I had counseled families for many years) by becoming a licensed counselor. I returned to school, completed my masters degree, and began practicing in the Midwest. In 2008, I moved to Orlando where I continue to help couples in crisis through my Currents Counseling Services.
I deal with affairs every day. The stories that come into my office often remind me of my own, sometimes in very powerful ways. I use to avoid that pain, but whenever it shows up now, I sit with it for a while. Good lessons are often learned in those moments.
But I wish I’d learned these things before the pain; before the regret. Most of all, I wish I’d learned these four lessons.
Lesson One: Affairs start before you do anything.
I didn’t cross the line between fidelity and infidelity when I first kissed, said I love you, or had sex with the other woman. I crossed it long before that. Here are two “beginning steps” in my affair that started before a single inappropriate word or touch was made.
The First Step: A pattern of compromising friendships with women.
Years before I met my affair partner, I eagerly engaged in friendships with various women who were attractive to me in different ways. My wife almost always recognized these friendships and felt threatened by them, but I dismissed her concerns. I never admitted to anything inappropriate, but the truth was I did become emotionally attached to these women.
There were no romantic conversations, no romantic gestures. But these relationships started to feel a little bit like romance, even though I wouldn’t have called it that. Time spent with them became more exciting than time spent with my wife. I created opportunities to be with them, anticipated those moments, and occasionally fantasized about more intimate interactions.
I’m not suggesting that heterosexual men and women can’t have healthy, wholesome friendships, but it can be complicated. In my case, at least, this unhealthy pattern became so normal that the step into an affair was a relatively easy one.
I should have been more honest to myself and to my wife. I should have set better boundaries. I should have talked to a counselor! It’s very likely that if I had done those things, my affair would have been avoided.
The Second Step: Fantasizing about the affair before it happened.
My affair started as the kind of compromising friendship described above, but it quickly evolved into more persistent fantasies. Even while I still convinced myself that I would never actually have an affair, I started thinking more and more about her and what it would be like to be in a romantic relationship with her. I compared this fantasy to my marriage, and the fantasy won every time. I started wondering what it would be like to experience sex with her. And all the while, I kept convincing myself that these private pleasures were safe; I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
One morning, a good friend came into my office to chat. He was someone who cared about me and always encouraged me in my marriage. As he was leaving, he asked about my secretary, an attractive woman with a lively personality. “Tim, is she ever a temptation? Could that ever be a problem for you?”
I smiled and said, “Honestly, no.” But what I wanted to say in that moment was, “No, not her. But if maybe I should tell you about someone else...” I considered saying that, but I didn’t. I still believed I could keep things under control.
These private, secret thoughts became the subtle steps that led me to the door of the affair and then held my hand as I knocked. I was already in before the door was opened.
Lesson Two: Some consequences are permanent.
In the middle of my affair, I was lucid enough to realize there would be consequences to my choices, but I did not want to acknowledge the permanent damage being done. I convinced myself that everything would stabilize over time.
These mental games were especially necessary when considering my children. There is no way I could continue the affair if I believed I was causing deep damage to them, so I softened my guilt with these arguments:
They are young. They’ll mature and the negative effects won’t be permanent.
This period of pain (and I cringe as I write this) might even make them stronger. I know plenty of people who have survived broken homes and seem to be doing quite well!
I’ll be a better father if I’m living a passionate life instead of settling for something that doesn’t excite me anymore.
You don’t know my children, but all five of them are beautiful, unique, gifted individuals. If anyone is capable of surviving a broken home, they are. So you need to hear me when I say that none of my children survived without being broken in some way.
Yes, they are strong. Yes, they have learned from the pains they endured and are making positive impacts in their world. Yes, I am so proud of every one of them. But I am very aware, too, that each of them carries a wound that has not completely healed.
Their wounds will always matter to me. They love me and forgive me. I have accepted their forgiveness, but my deepest regret will always be over the cost they paid for my choices.
Additionally, these affair consequences were also permanent:
Lost Friendships: I know there were good people who were just too hurt and confused to maintain a friendship with me anymore, especially as the affair continued. I tried to pretend like I didn’t care, but I did.
Damaged Reputation: No matter how much I heal... no matter how much I work to repair what I’ve broken... no matter how much I embrace grace and hope in my own life, many people consider me differently than they did before.
Financial Instability: I lost my job because of the affair. I floundered for many, many years. I still am paying off debts incurred.
Lesson Three: I’m not an exception to the rule.
If you had come to me two months before my affair started and said, “Tim, you’re going to cheat on your wife,” I would have laughed, “No way!” My response would have been sincere.
Affairs were for people who were idiots or sex-crazed, or maybe sex-crazed idiots, but not for me. I knew better. I’d seen the story play out too many times in other marriages and knew what the outcome of that choice would be.
Somehow, though, I eventually convinced myself that my affair was the exception. I believed the relationship I had with my affair partner was special and enduring. The emotional and sexual connection we experienced felt too real. The evidence seemed compelling: our experience was more substantial than the temporary fling that characterizes most affairs.
Ours was different because:
Conversation flowed easily.
We shared many common interests.
We shared similar life views and desires for the future.
Our emotional connection was deep and growing.
Laughter was effortless.
Sex was mutually (and frequently) desired and enjoyed.
We experienced a quick, natural bond. Even though I knew it was cliche, I believed we were soul mates.
I hear
Different characters, different circumstances... same story, same arguments.
this same conviction expressed every week by the clients who talk to me.
Recently, one client, struggling in the beginning of his affair, sent me an email: Sometimes I think of a life with [the other woman] as the adventure... [she] is mysterious and uncertain, but the connection is SO POWERFUL. I feel helplessly drawn to her... Everyone says this is infatuation but it seems so much more to me. I've been thinking about this for the past few weeks and it seems like the only reason why I want to stay in my marriage is because [it’s the thing I’m suppose to do]. Sometimes I honestly think [the other woman] is the person I’m meant to be with. My head feels so clear when I think about this...
Here's another point and this is SO CRAZY, but it's almost like [she] meets me where we both need to be in conversation. It's like we are always moving toward each other in conversation. I realize that we haven't had what's considered a true relationship but we've had some pretty serious conversations and I can honestly say that we are always [connecting]. It's uncanny the stuff that comes out of her
mouth is almost verbatim the stuff that comes out of mine. I mean I know I'm talking crazy talk right now, but I’VE NEVER EXPERIENCED SOMETHING LIKE THIS BEFORE!
Every time I have conversation, I learn something new that just connects me ever closer to her. One would say WELL STOP TALKING TO HER, but it's like my soul is thirsting for more. It's my soul and my heart. This isn't just some high school crush. I feel love, deep deep love for someone, a love that I never thought I would ever feel... Even at our highest peak, I've never felt anything like this for [my wife].
I know I know I know I know I know, life with [the other woman] would have hardships, but this relationship feels so pure... I learned the other day that her views of sex go hand in hand with mine.
WHERE THE HELL WAS THIS PERSON 10 YEARS AGO? WHY NOW?!
He’s convinced that his affair is special; it’s the kind of relationship that will last. But you know what? One day he’ll realize that this was no exception. Mine wasn’t, either. (And I can’t help but wonder how many people will read this and still come up with a dozen reasons why their affair is unique.)
Lesson Four: I could have changed my marriage.
One common question I get: If you could go back in time, knowing everything you know now, do you think you would be content going back to your marriage?
If I could go back, it wouldn’t be to the same marriage. You know what would be different? ME!
How do I know that’s true? Because the way I love in my current marriage (to a woman who was previously married to a cheater, but that’s another story) is the way I should have loved my first wife. I use to blame her for my discontent but failed to take responsibility for my part in building a strong connection in our marriage.
It was too easy for me to just shut down when I was unhappy. But now I want to love better than that. I’m learning to move toward my wife, lovingly and honestly, even when hurt or disappointment gets between us.
Of course, I’ll never know what that change might have looked like in my first marriage, but knowing my ex-wife, I suspect we would have been surprised at what our marriage could become. And our children, of course, would have a much different story to tell.
Bonus Lesson: Grace is the remedy for shame.
My affair introduced me to a new companion: shame. It followed me everywhere. Sometimes it came up from behind and clung to me like a sick man too weary to walk, forcing me drag its dead weight around. I was exhausted, depressed. I sometimes wondered if not living was better than living like this.
Then another friend started showing up: grace. I’d known this friend before, but not well; not like she wanted to be known. It was grace that eventually lifted shame off my back and reminded me what it feels like to be free.
Grace is the act of giving blessing even when it’s not deserved. It tells us, “You can stop trying to be good enough. You don’t have to undo your failures. I choose to love you anyway.”
Grace has healed me. Maybe it would be more honest to say that grace continues to heal me. This happens in many ways, but let me give you the most profound examples of grace in my life.
My children have forgiven me and love me. They don’t constantly show me their scars to remind me of the wounds I inflicted. They choose to honor me instead. (But, oh, I wish I could take away those scars.)
My ex-wife joined me in filming our story for a show appearing on Oprah’s network. Despite the fact that the producers edited the story in such a way as to make it nearly a work of fiction, she had joined me with the intent of presenting a message of grace and forgiveness.
Knowing my story (all of it) my current wife, Sharon, risked trusting me even though she had once been married to a man who repeatedly cheated.
She swore she would never date a man who had ever been unfaithful, but
she gave me grace. I love her for it.
I am a counselor today because of grace. I never intended to be a therapist,
but I’m in just the right place. All the things I’ve learned about change and growth and healing (in my life and in the life of my clients) have come because of my failures, not despite them. Grace made something good out of something bad, and I find joy in that.
God is the author of grace. My spiritual story is long and complicated, but it comes down to a simple truth: Grace is a gift from God, not something we have to earn (Ephesians 2:8-9). I remember a scene in the book Pilgrim’s Progress where Pilgrim struggled up a steep hill with the heavy bundle of guilt and shame strapped to his back. He reached the top to find the cross there. When he knelt, the straps broke and his burden rolled away. That’s grace.
Reflections on what I’ve learned and what I wish I’d known twenty years ago. by Tim Tedder
I remember one particular afternoon in college when, for some reason, I became deeply contemplative during a walk from class to my dorm room. My considerations turned to future expectations, imagining what path my life would take. What would I be doing in the decades to come? How successful would I be? What would my wife look like? How many children would we have? What would it feel like to live the life of my choosing? I tried to imagine it all.
I stopped in front of Pickett Hall and thought, “I’m going to always remember this moment.” I wanted that day’s thoughts of hope to be a measure against whatever realities would eventually come in years ahead.
What my life became was not too far off that measure. I was married to a beautiful woman and we had five children together. (Okay, maybe there were only two kids in my original imaginations, but she easily persuaded me to expand my vision.) I was respected and successful in my career with invitations to new opportunities. So far, so good.
Then came The Fall. I had an affair. My life took a turn never considered during that college walk. It twisted into something nearly unrecognizable.
The details of my affair are really no different from thousands of other similar stories. The short version is this: I was frustrated in my marriage. I felt irresistibly drawn to another woman. I wanted nothing more than to experience every pleasure of being with her. I lost my job. I lost my marriage. I broke the hearts of my children. I went through several years of darkness before healing began.
After healing, friends encouraged me to build on my past counseling experienced (I had counseled families for many years) by becoming a licensed counselor. I returned to school, completed my masters degree, and began practicing in the Midwest. In 2008, I moved to Orlando where I continue to help couples in crisis through my Currents Counseling Services.
I deal with affairs every day. The stories that come into my office often remind me of my own, sometimes in very powerful ways. I use to avoid that pain, but whenever it shows up now, I sit with it for a while. Good lessons are often learned in those moments.
But I wish I’d learned these things before the pain; before the regret. Most of all, I wish I’d learned these four lessons.
Lesson One: Affairs start before you do anything.
I didn’t cross the line between fidelity and infidelity when I first kissed, said I love you, or had sex with the other woman. I crossed it long before that. Here are two “beginning steps” in my affair that started before a single inappropriate word or touch was made.
The First Step: A pattern of compromising friendships with women.
Years before I met my affair partner, I eagerly engaged in friendships with various women who were attractive to me in different ways. My wife almost always recognized these friendships and felt threatened by them, but I dismissed her concerns. I never admitted to anything inappropriate, but the truth was I did become emotionally attached to these women.
There were no romantic conversations, no romantic gestures. But these relationships started to feel a little bit like romance, even though I wouldn’t have called it that. Time spent with them became more exciting than time spent with my wife. I created opportunities to be with them, anticipated those moments, and occasionally fantasized about more intimate interactions.
I’m not suggesting that heterosexual men and women can’t have healthy, wholesome friendships, but it can be complicated. In my case, at least, this unhealthy pattern became so normal that the step into an affair was a relatively easy one.
I should have been more honest to myself and to my wife. I should have set better boundaries. I should have talked to a counselor! It’s very likely that if I had done those things, my affair would have been avoided.
The Second Step: Fantasizing about the affair before it happened.
My affair started as the kind of compromising friendship described above, but it quickly evolved into more persistent fantasies. Even while I still convinced myself that I would never actually have an affair, I started thinking more and more about her and what it would be like to be in a romantic relationship with her. I compared this fantasy to my marriage, and the fantasy won every time. I started wondering what it would be like to experience sex with her. And all the while, I kept convincing myself that these private pleasures were safe; I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
One morning, a good friend came into my office to chat. He was someone who cared about me and always encouraged me in my marriage. As he was leaving, he asked about my secretary, an attractive woman with a lively personality. “Tim, is she ever a temptation? Could that ever be a problem for you?”
I smiled and said, “Honestly, no.” But what I wanted to say in that moment was, “No, not her. But if maybe I should tell you about someone else...” I considered saying that, but I didn’t. I still believed I could keep things under control.
These private, secret thoughts became the subtle steps that led me to the door of the affair and then held my hand as I knocked. I was already in before the door was opened.
Lesson Two: Some consequences are permanent.
In the middle of my affair, I was lucid enough to realize there would be consequences to my choices, but I did not want to acknowledge the permanent damage being done. I convinced myself that everything would stabilize over time.
These mental games were especially necessary when considering my children. There is no way I could continue the affair if I believed I was causing deep damage to them, so I softened my guilt with these arguments:
They are young. They’ll mature and the negative effects won’t be permanent.
This period of pain (and I cringe as I write this) might even make them stronger. I know plenty of people who have survived broken homes and seem to be doing quite well!
I’ll be a better father if I’m living a passionate life instead of settling for something that doesn’t excite me anymore.
You don’t know my children, but all five of them are beautiful, unique, gifted individuals. If anyone is capable of surviving a broken home, they are. So you need to hear me when I say that none of my children survived without being broken in some way.
Yes, they are strong. Yes, they have learned from the pains they endured and are making positive impacts in their world. Yes, I am so proud of every one of them. But I am very aware, too, that each of them carries a wound that has not completely healed.
Their wounds will always matter to me. They love me and forgive me. I have accepted their forgiveness, but my deepest regret will always be over the cost they paid for my choices.
Additionally, these affair consequences were also permanent:
Lost Friendships: I know there were good people who were just too hurt and confused to maintain a friendship with me anymore, especially as the affair continued. I tried to pretend like I didn’t care, but I did.
Damaged Reputation: No matter how much I heal... no matter how much I work to repair what I’ve broken... no matter how much I embrace grace and hope in my own life, many people consider me differently than they did before.
Financial Instability: I lost my job because of the affair. I floundered for many, many years. I still am paying off debts incurred.
Lesson Three: I’m not an exception to the rule.
If you had come to me two months before my affair started and said, “Tim, you’re going to cheat on your wife,” I would have laughed, “No way!” My response would have been sincere.
Affairs were for people who were idiots or sex-crazed, or maybe sex-crazed idiots, but not for me. I knew better. I’d seen the story play out too many times in other marriages and knew what the outcome of that choice would be.
Somehow, though, I eventually convinced myself that my affair was the exception. I believed the relationship I had with my affair partner was special and enduring. The emotional and sexual connection we experienced felt too real. The evidence seemed compelling: our experience was more substantial than the temporary fling that characterizes most affairs.
Ours was different because:
Conversation flowed easily.
We shared many common interests.
We shared similar life views and desires for the future.
Our emotional connection was deep and growing.
Laughter was effortless.
Sex was mutually (and frequently) desired and enjoyed.
We experienced a quick, natural bond. Even though I knew it was cliche, I believed we were soul mates.
I hear
Different characters, different circumstances... same story, same arguments.
this same conviction expressed every week by the clients who talk to me.
Recently, one client, struggling in the beginning of his affair, sent me an email: Sometimes I think of a life with [the other woman] as the adventure... [she] is mysterious and uncertain, but the connection is SO POWERFUL. I feel helplessly drawn to her... Everyone says this is infatuation but it seems so much more to me. I've been thinking about this for the past few weeks and it seems like the only reason why I want to stay in my marriage is because [it’s the thing I’m suppose to do]. Sometimes I honestly think [the other woman] is the person I’m meant to be with. My head feels so clear when I think about this...
Here's another point and this is SO CRAZY, but it's almost like [she] meets me where we both need to be in conversation. It's like we are always moving toward each other in conversation. I realize that we haven't had what's considered a true relationship but we've had some pretty serious conversations and I can honestly say that we are always [connecting]. It's uncanny the stuff that comes out of her
mouth is almost verbatim the stuff that comes out of mine. I mean I know I'm talking crazy talk right now, but I’VE NEVER EXPERIENCED SOMETHING LIKE THIS BEFORE!
Every time I have conversation, I learn something new that just connects me ever closer to her. One would say WELL STOP TALKING TO HER, but it's like my soul is thirsting for more. It's my soul and my heart. This isn't just some high school crush. I feel love, deep deep love for someone, a love that I never thought I would ever feel... Even at our highest peak, I've never felt anything like this for [my wife].
I know I know I know I know I know, life with [the other woman] would have hardships, but this relationship feels so pure... I learned the other day that her views of sex go hand in hand with mine.
WHERE THE HELL WAS THIS PERSON 10 YEARS AGO? WHY NOW?!
He’s convinced that his affair is special; it’s the kind of relationship that will last. But you know what? One day he’ll realize that this was no exception. Mine wasn’t, either. (And I can’t help but wonder how many people will read this and still come up with a dozen reasons why their affair is unique.)
Lesson Four: I could have changed my marriage.
One common question I get: If you could go back in time, knowing everything you know now, do you think you would be content going back to your marriage?
If I could go back, it wouldn’t be to the same marriage. You know what would be different? ME!
How do I know that’s true? Because the way I love in my current marriage (to a woman who was previously married to a cheater, but that’s another story) is the way I should have loved my first wife. I use to blame her for my discontent but failed to take responsibility for my part in building a strong connection in our marriage.
It was too easy for me to just shut down when I was unhappy. But now I want to love better than that. I’m learning to move toward my wife, lovingly and honestly, even when hurt or disappointment gets between us.
Of course, I’ll never know what that change might have looked like in my first marriage, but knowing my ex-wife, I suspect we would have been surprised at what our marriage could become. And our children, of course, would have a much different story to tell.
Bonus Lesson: Grace is the remedy for shame.
My affair introduced me to a new companion: shame. It followed me everywhere. Sometimes it came up from behind and clung to me like a sick man too weary to walk, forcing me drag its dead weight around. I was exhausted, depressed. I sometimes wondered if not living was better than living like this.
Then another friend started showing up: grace. I’d known this friend before, but not well; not like she wanted to be known. It was grace that eventually lifted shame off my back and reminded me what it feels like to be free.
Grace is the act of giving blessing even when it’s not deserved. It tells us, “You can stop trying to be good enough. You don’t have to undo your failures. I choose to love you anyway.”
Grace has healed me. Maybe it would be more honest to say that grace continues to heal me. This happens in many ways, but let me give you the most profound examples of grace in my life.
My children have forgiven me and love me. They don’t constantly show me their scars to remind me of the wounds I inflicted. They choose to honor me instead. (But, oh, I wish I could take away those scars.)
My ex-wife joined me in filming our story for a show appearing on Oprah’s network. Despite the fact that the producers edited the story in such a way as to make it nearly a work of fiction, she had joined me with the intent of presenting a message of grace and forgiveness.
Knowing my story (all of it) my current wife, Sharon, risked trusting me even though she had once been married to a man who repeatedly cheated.
She swore she would never date a man who had ever been unfaithful, but
she gave me grace. I love her for it.
I am a counselor today because of grace. I never intended to be a therapist,
but I’m in just the right place. All the things I’ve learned about change and growth and healing (in my life and in the life of my clients) have come because of my failures, not despite them. Grace made something good out of something bad, and I find joy in that.
God is the author of grace. My spiritual story is long and complicated, but it comes down to a simple truth: Grace is a gift from God, not something we have to earn (Ephesians 2:8-9). I remember a scene in the book Pilgrim’s Progress where Pilgrim struggled up a steep hill with the heavy bundle of guilt and shame strapped to his back. He reached the top to find the cross there. When he knelt, the straps broke and his burden rolled away. That’s grace.
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I had gone to the grocery store. When I wheeled my cartback to my car I just stool there a minute. A few spacesaway a Tesla Cyber truck was parked. I had seen it on theroad a few times for a few seconds. But not close up.It looked like it belonged to 2126 and not 2026. I wasgoing to take a picture of the car but the owners cameback and drove away. It was an ordinary middle age...
And his new wife? Married a cheater? Good luck with that, The only reason he's even talking about it is because he's "supposedly" transformed into some Spiritualist. Grace is a gift, not earned? What about integrity - where does that fall in the line up? Or trust for that matter? Is that earned? Oprah should be ashamed of herself for even letting this guy on her show. Sure capitalize and make some money on fucking around. Let's do that!!! IMO that's something that TLC would do.
This just pissed me off.
I agree with everything you said, KRK. Right on!
I'm not sure if his advice would help anyone. Like he himself wrote....he knew the damage caused by affairs first hand because he counseled couples...yet he turned a blind eye to that.
No mention of an apology or amends to his wife, kids, coworkers.
Glad you posted it, but I don't think much of this guy. Liked the other letter that spells out the ongoing consequences of choices like these better. This is too squeaky clean and it comes off as a "why I did it" excuse paper more than a "don't do this," or more importantly, an "I'm sorry I did it" letter.
Oh.... I suspect the kids and the ex "forgave" him more to protect and heal themselves than to absolve him. I doubt if he's capable of thinking like that, but I know it to be true in my life.
But that was before I read your reply lol! You're right, he DOES NOT even mention what his cheating did to his wife...his wife only comes into the tale when he begins to tell us that his story became FAMOUS on Oprah...and Oprah somehow RUINED it by editing etc. lol! Then he mentions how his children HONOUR him. ugh.
This guy has narcissist written all over him! That said, I LOVED the article and found it helpful so thanks to Lisa for posting!
I don't know is it because of all his gas-lighting and making me feel like the loser in his reason to leave...or was he cheating on me all along. I will never know and I no longer go backwards searching and reliving the texts and emails and conversations. BUT, deep down I wish I knew how he felt or will feel in 10 or 20 years when all is said and done.
My therapist told me I will forgive and move on and find a better more perfect love and relationship and even someday be by my X dying bedside ...!!!! OH HELL NO!!!! I told her. I can let it go and move on but I will NEVER be a part of his life again.
I guess that is what I'm preparing for or searching from others who have been there done that. What remorse do they really have? Was it really that bad? Was OW worth leaving it all? Did he ever think of me fondly or talk openly about me to others? I know he doesn't bad talk me (at least not anymore but I'm sure he did while trying to convince himself and others why he did it).
I guess I just need to continue to process more of this.
I lasted a very long 29 years with the perfect narcissist. I'm guilty of believing the lies and keeping the hope that he would change. Never happened. I have the scars. My adult sons have the scars. The exass is in his little make believe world with his new wife (who was also a cheater).
Will it last? I highly doubt it. Will he remember his sons or this long-termer ex? Oh he'll reach out. With more excuses and I'm sorrys.
Your comment about being by your ex's bedside made me think about the times I've thought about my ex dying.(I only think about it because then I'D get my kids on the holidays.) Your comment "OH HELL NO!!!!" was perfect. He killed any love I had for him to the point I don't even care if he lives or dies. I don't wish him ill, just don't care. If he died, it would be like any stranger dying. I WOULD feel badly for my daughters as, I too have a father I love, but that is all. It would mean nothing to me if he passed.
People like this author are just trying to justify what they've done. There's not a doubt in my mind that even 20 years from now, my ex will ever think he did the wrong thIng. The OW is just like him, but in woman's clothing.
I went online and have been reading parts of "The Way They Were". I'd love to send a copy of it to him and ask him if his own selfish happiness was worth doing what he did to our kids. I have no doubt he'd say YES.
I sincerely wonder if men are capable of loving a woman ? And that their dick is all that matters to them ? They sure seem to white-knuckle it daily not to screw somebody else , it seems .
Excuse my coarse language , as I don't like using that kind of language. , but from all the stories and how watchful, women seem to instinctually know to be....I think men seem like its all they can do , to not f*$k' anything w/ a vagina ?