My Story - Making meaning out of 25 years

Scared ... 25 years married, now starting over.
My husband and I met through friends, at a night club on the Navy base. I was attracted to him immediately, as he was funny, charming, and handsome.  I was 20 and he was 23 going on 24. I used to tell the story of how we met as if it was a joke – but now I realize it wasn’t funny, it was just prophetic. “I met my husband at a club. He was there with his girlfriend, who was there with her husband.” Yeah. The husband didn’t know… He was a shipmate of my STBX, and my STBX and “his girlfriend” flirted when the husband wasn’t around and danced, and it seemed normal because they were all “friends.” But then I met him and didn’t know about the situation (until later) and we began flirting and became friends. The girlfriend and her husband ended up moving and my STBX was single and we pursued each other. We were married six months later.
We lived a typical US Navy life, moving from place to place, and through deployment cycles. We were married 2 and a half years before our son came along, and six years later we had our daughter. They are now 22 and 16. We shared some interests - movies, books, and visiting all the local attractions in our duty stations. We REALLY enjoyed seeing the different places we lived. We spent time at the beach in Hawaii, explored the Smithsonian museums and Civil War Battlefields in the mid-Atlantic area, and finally settled in the Northwest. For the first part of our marriage I worked as a secretary as he was in and out on the ships, then after our daughter was born, I stayed home and took part-time jobs so that I could be more involved with our children. Our lives began to revolve solely around the kids and their activities. The most recent phase of our marriage involved me going back to school and earning my teaching degree so that I could establish my career. We both work, we both have activities with our daughter, and we have a pretty steady routine of come and go.
Sadly, the problem has existed from the beginning. He has always been a charmer and a flirt, and he would spend time while I was working or after I'd gone to bed with the neighbors - a group of wives whose husbands were deployed. He said he was playing cards with them, but it involved liquor and long hours and I always felt insecure about it. During that time, there were some uncomfortable encounters with coworkers who said my husband invited them to visit our home while I was at work. One of these women’s husbands called my STBX once and said he’d found his wallet… it was at their house. I was suspicious, but he said it was nothing, the guy found it on the ship and brought it home with him.
The first time I was directly faced with an incident of infidelity, I had only been married a few months and I chose to give him a second chance. There was only touching...and alcohol was involved and I accepted his apology. There were many more incidents after which he denied and made me feel crazy. At every duty station there was a new “situation” that involved suspicious absences, female friends, long working hours, and other problems. About 12 years into our marriage there was an undeniable incident with a neighbor, after which we sought counseling and went to a marriage retreat. He apologized, and I tried to move on. In 2008 it happened again, and that time he lost his job. He moved out, and we separated for a month and then got back together. I was sad and lonely, distraught at the idea of being alone for the rest of my life. I knew that financially we were going to be devastated and I thought it was killing the kids, and that they were suffering. I didn't know they actually would have been fine in the end. Now that they are older, they tell me they wish we'd never gotten back together. Another reason we reunited was that couldn't break the habit of talking and texting every morning and every evening, and that comfort of having each other to lean on. I was convinced we were friends and meant to be together.
Basically, for the last 10+ years we have lived as roommates. I tried to reengage in a sex life, but struggled to keep my mind off the “other women” and what it must have been like with them. I never wanted to be touched and began to pull away consistently. Any time we would try to be physical it was awkward and ended in disappointment for both of us. Many times I would cry afterwards. In the past six years I think we've been truly intimate twice. So, of course, whether my own fault or his, here we are again. Another undeniable incident, and I realize that I have had no self-respect, dignity, or pride in a very long time. I need to get that back for myself and for my daughter.
Obviously I shouldn’t have married him in the first place. There were plenty of red flags. The warning signs were clear. Why did I? Fear of disappointing others, the excitement of being “in love,” the dream that all would be fine once we were married. But I do have two wonderful children and I’m not without good memories. I can honestly say that I gave it my all. I tried everything. I forgave, I sought counseling, I sought God, I communicated, and in the end I tried ignoring and turning the other way. I can leave in good conscience. I’ve already moved out with my daughter into an apartment and the relief in both of us is palpable. He’s not a nice guy. I believe it’s because he has always lived with guilt, which makes him grouchy. I believe he’s a functional alcoholic; he hides alcohol around the house, but I constantly smelled it on him and his words would slur. For so many reasons I am glad to be out of the house.
The struggle I have now is that he continues to send me daily “good morning” or “hope you are well” text messages. I am trying to move on, yet he sends me daily reminders that he is out there alone. I have tried ignoring them, responding with updates on our daughter, and keeping it business, but he doesn’t seem to get it. He is alone – he was adopted as an older boy, never got close to his family, and has never had what one would call “friends.” He’s always been a loner. When I was angry I would tell him that he obviously had someone, and that he should spend his time with her, but he says it’s not like that, that I was his best friend and she was “just sex.” But I just don’t want these daily reminders. I’m not asking for a solution – I know that in time they will stop, I just need to wait it out.
Meanwhile, here I am. Starting over. I am obese, 45, and gun-shy when it comes to physical contact. I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be able to attract another man, but right now at least I know I don’t need a man to define me or to hold me up. I am responsible for my own happiness. The logical side of me knows I am doing the right thing and am finally getting it together, but every now and then I find myself lying awake at night unable to sleep with every fear in the world going through my mind. That was the night before last. Out of nowhere I just could not fall asleep. But it passes.
Well, that’s my story. It was long… but it was important for me to get it out in writing. Putting it in words is cathartic and necessary. For those of you who have read it, maybe lived it, thank you for helping me to make my struggles meaningful. Just knowing that I’ve shared my story makes me feel that I’ve been accountable to myself, and that I can move forward. We all do – move forward, that is. No matter what, time keeps on moving forward and I am going to move with it into a new day.