Lather, Rinse, and Repeat
I'm normally one to write with humor, but I'm not seeing how this topic of infidelity is funny at all, unless you enjoy pulling wings off of flies and illegally park in handicap spaces.
As a mother, I don't find the time to even write consistently much less coherently. But I'll give it a shot. Hopefully my ramblings will at the very least help you all to fall asleep faster on a restless late night.
I don't care to go over the horrific details about my husband's affair. Long story short, he had a 2.5 year affair with a naive, unmarried woman living overseas in Asia who had no idea of my existence until she finally started digging around online. Dumbshit. At least I can say that I'm smarter than her. But I'll give her credit for calling him out. Other details I suppose will leak out in future posts like a hemophiliac with a paper cut.
It's only been a little over a month since he told me. I think I'm beginning to feel better. I think? I reach down to my emotions to pet them and nurture them and love them and bathe them with the best medicated shampoo. And then I find that these seemingly cute furry things grow fangs and hiss and scratch. My husband understandably doesn't want to be anywhere near that, even though I feel like he deserves the ass-kicking.
I'm in the process of declawing, but that involves removing the first knuckles that the claws grow out of. I don't have the benefit of anesthesia. And I don't know what will happen once I have no defenses. I've relied on them for so long.
So about the bath thing... our marriage counselor says that we have to consciously emphasize the positives and change our way of communicating to each other. I have to steel myself to practice this.
Say nice appreciative things = lather.Get rid of unproductive communication styles = rinse.Keep doing it = repeat.
Apparently it gets easier, much like a cat (especiallly a declawed one,) stops fighting the bathtime ritual. Or not. Not for most cats, anyway.
But I'm not a stark raving mad kitty. I'm a wounded but determined wife trying like hell to address the damage of the affair. I understand we can change together for the better. I don't always feel it, but I know it, and that's what I have to hold onto for now. That, and the memory of my husband looking at me this morning with complete love and utter tenderness before he left for work.
I will text him now and tell him how much I loved what his eyes were telling me. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
As a mother, I don't find the time to even write consistently much less coherently. But I'll give it a shot. Hopefully my ramblings will at the very least help you all to fall asleep faster on a restless late night.
I don't care to go over the horrific details about my husband's affair. Long story short, he had a 2.5 year affair with a naive, unmarried woman living overseas in Asia who had no idea of my existence until she finally started digging around online. Dumbshit. At least I can say that I'm smarter than her. But I'll give her credit for calling him out. Other details I suppose will leak out in future posts like a hemophiliac with a paper cut.
It's only been a little over a month since he told me. I think I'm beginning to feel better. I think? I reach down to my emotions to pet them and nurture them and love them and bathe them with the best medicated shampoo. And then I find that these seemingly cute furry things grow fangs and hiss and scratch. My husband understandably doesn't want to be anywhere near that, even though I feel like he deserves the ass-kicking.
I'm in the process of declawing, but that involves removing the first knuckles that the claws grow out of. I don't have the benefit of anesthesia. And I don't know what will happen once I have no defenses. I've relied on them for so long.
So about the bath thing... our marriage counselor says that we have to consciously emphasize the positives and change our way of communicating to each other. I have to steel myself to practice this.
Say nice appreciative things = lather.Get rid of unproductive communication styles = rinse.Keep doing it = repeat.
Apparently it gets easier, much like a cat (especiallly a declawed one,) stops fighting the bathtime ritual. Or not. Not for most cats, anyway.
But I'm not a stark raving mad kitty. I'm a wounded but determined wife trying like hell to address the damage of the affair. I understand we can change together for the better. I don't always feel it, but I know it, and that's what I have to hold onto for now. That, and the memory of my husband looking at me this morning with complete love and utter tenderness before he left for work.
I will text him now and tell him how much I loved what his eyes were telling me. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
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