My first Christmas with Mugsy.

My 120-pound furry rock of love is my dog Mugsy.  Yes I adore my dog but she is a dog.  I don’t carry her around in a purse, really she wouldn’t fit in some of the largest bags of luggage.  I am not the crazy dog mom who dresses her in sweaters and t-shirts the extra large size doesn’t fit.  I am a proud mamma and show off her pictures whenever anyone shares pictures of their kids.  So I am a bit obsessed and hopelessly in love with my furry bear.  I have never had the opportunity to share the holidays with her.  Being married and living away from both families we traveled every Thanksgiving and Christmas.   If you know me at all you already know how much I love spending time with family at the holidays but every year I felt torn.  We were either with his family or my family and Mugsy along with the cats were home.   I wanted to be in all three places at the same time.  This year while I do miss his family and I would love to be with his daughter, I didn’t feel torn.  I was with my family and Mugsy.  I was right where I was supposed to be.   Mugsy has been at my side for almost every moment of the challenges I have faced through this last year.   Those first weeks of devastation of my altered marriage and then the affair she sensed my emotional frailty.  In those first few weeks whenever we were in the same place, she either leaned against me or rested her paw or head on me to let me know she was silently there.  In the face of such intimate betrayal she provided unconditional love, okay not quite unconditional she wanted food, water, walks and belly rubs.  But never the less it was a bond that I have cherished through these last few months.  She didn’t judge the tear filled nights, the moments of sheer anger, the overwhelming bewilderment that continuously brought me to the kitchen, bedroom, yard or bathroom having no idea why I entered the room in the first place.  Mugsy managed moving states, a new home, a new dog walker, new dog parks, a new work schedule and every night hops into bed to snuggle no matter where or what time we get there.  Mugsy’s breathe in your face can be a powerful motivator to get out of bed in the morning, especially in those early days of sorrow.  At least if I didn’t brush my teeth first thing for those early morning walks, I knew hers was worse.  As that sorrow changed to anger she would run, alright jog or walk any distance I needed that day.  When it comes to our outings at 120 pounds and part stubborn bulldog, she usually calls the shots on where and how far we go, even when supplied with bacon.  She sensed my moods and kept me moving on the days I needed it most.  I know she is just a dog but she has been my silent, sweet, tail wagging, furry, giant of unconditional love.  Today on Christmas she was always in someone’s way, breathing her gross breathe in someone’s face, leaning or stepping on someone and loving every minute of being with the family.   Today my heart wasn’t torn wanting to be in three places but grew three times knowing I was right where I was meant to be with Mugsy and my family. 

Not all men are assholes, only one.

I am incredibly lucky to have wonderful men in my life.  First and foremost my amazing dad.  He has an enormous heart, wonderfully creative mind and a jovial memorable personality.  He has his faults of not being able to keep a secret, always guesses exactly what is in a wrapped present, holds onto everything and I love all these things about him.  My brother who can make anyone laugh at anytime, a classic gentleman, compassionate and a true original.  My uncles, Ed who is generous, driven, has an incredible work ethic and enjoys sparking politically charged conversations.  Joe who adores his family, loves music and cooks with the most passion and love of any person I know.  Charlie who is kind, insightful and has a beautiful calm spirit.  To the many of my parents friends who I have grown up with that are genuinely good hearted.  The incredible husbands of my friends and my single male friends both old and new who posses integrity and appreciate what really matters in life.  My soon to be ex-husbands father a savvy business man with the courage and strength to battle cancer, loves a project and would do anything for his grandkids.  My brother in law who is warm hearted, always has a smile for you and breaks it down to what is real.  Marriage isn’t easy for anyone and all deal with the struggles of balance with careers, family, friends, hobbies, wife’s or girlfriends.  Don’t get me wrong I know each has their unique flaws and challenges, they leave their shoes in the middle of the floor, can’t remember next weeks plans and never get to fixing that one thing you asked.  Although they have their moments they are wonderful, caring and most of the time thoughtful men with hearts of gold.  Honest, sincere and dependable men exist and I am happy to have a great many of them in my life.  Thank you for showing me what a true man is.  Okay the real thank you, because of each of you, I am not that crazy woman that hates men, has 10 cats, knits and has joined a Wiccan society.   I’ll keep my one cat, won’t take up knitting until I’m 60 and really who can actually cast a spell unless your Mr. Potter.  Phew, thanks guys.

Diamonds aren’t a girls best friend, freedom is!

Living alone seemed a bit scary at first.  My life revolved around him and his daughter, now it is just Mugsy and me.  It has been liberating, everything I do is for me.  I have three closets all to myself, THREE!! The house is continuously clean, the dishes and clutter are all solely mine and I only have to pick up after myself.   The bathroom is always neat and I never have to wonder if someone used my toothbrush.  I made an amazing dinner a few weeks ago, the sauce was incredible and no one was there to comment as I slurped up the excess sauce right out of the pan.  There aren’t any snide comments when I bring in yet another shopping bag of clothes.  Just a sweet giant dog wagging her tail at my new haul, I know she is excited about all the treasures I found.  When I wake in the middle of the night I can read my book with out worrying if I am disturbing someone else.   My favorite is when I do wake in the middle of the night getting a miniature ice cream cone from the freezer and eating it in bed.  Okay so Mugsy does get a bit annoyed with the light on late at night but a little belly rub and all is forgiven.  I can watch whatever I want on TV and not have to deal with Man vs. Food or a repeat of Roadhouse.  I can eat fish every night for dinner and while cooking, dance like no one is watching. No comments on that occasional second, okay third, glass of wine.  Although if I would have known all he was doing I would have laughed my ass off at that comment, instead of my usual whatever shrug.  To be brutally honest it wasn’t much different then the last year we were together.  He was gone so often I really did live alone until his daughter came to live with us.  She is who I truly miss everyday.  Although she challenged me continuously and drove me crazy with her tween hormones, I loved her with all my heart and enjoyed having her in my life on a daily basis.  As for him I see how the chaos and disruption of having someone come in and out of my life intermittently, with dramatic distance and aloofness diminished my personal happiness.  Don’t get me wrong I would love to share my life with someone.  But I want a true partner, someone to cook with and to walk the dog with that will keep me warm and entertained in the cold and rain.  There is a big difference between taking care of a partner (even when they aren’t cheating) and sharing a life with a partner.  Today I am happy in my independence, focusing on the positive, slurping sauce from the pan, enjoying my midnight miniature ice cream cones and I have three closets to fill!!

Forgive and forget, nope. Melissa's liberation, yep!

A friend asked the other day if I will ever forgive him.  The definition of forgive is 1. Stop being angry about something 2. Pardon somebody 3. Cancel an obligation.  We didn’t agree on an open relationship and therefore there is not a pardon for him breaking our vows and establishing an intimate and emotional relationship with another person.  Our vows were an obligation and I didn’t agree to cancel them.  That was, until I found out about the last affair.  There are an abundance of self-help books and psychiatrists that state forgiveness can lead to feelings of understanding, empathy and compassion for the one who hurt you.  I wonder were any of those authors really betrayed, because I say it’s crap.  Nope I will ever understand how a person with a beating heart does this.  Empathy, not completely sure he is capable of true feelings other than orgasms.  That makes empathy in this situation, pointless.  Up next, compassion.  I now recognize he is incapable of developing a true and loving relationship, which is sad.  Is that compassion, to me nope.  Compassion is recognizing another’s’ depravity and wanting to see it alleviated. Do I care if he is able to have a true and loving relationship, nope. Is there compassion for people who pre-meditate to hurt another person in diabolical way, again nope.  Many say embracing forgiveness; you embrace peace, hope, gratitude and joy.  Again I say, that’s crap.  I am finding peace, gratitude, hope and joy by the love and support from my family, friends and eliminating the immorality out of my life.  The zero communication and miles between us doesn’t hurt either.   What I do believe in, letting go and releasing any thread he had tied to my life.  At the beginning of this roller coaster I would have said I wish I could forget it all but remembering honors my feelings and the journey that has enhanced my strength and allowed me to share in ways I never have.  I wouldn’t mind forgetting some of the sex Skype’s.  Now I find them a bit funny, hideous and lacking in imagination.  I thought an affair happened because of the mind blowing and heightened stimulation, what I saw was typical and boring.  My first rebound better hold on for dear life, it will be electrifying.   Back to the topic at hand, I’d like to change this idea and thought of “forgiveness” to liberation.  The decades of self help books and people tied to forgiveness are missing the point, you don’t need to forgive but liberate.  There is absolutely no need for me to forgive his lack of manhood in either not breaking up previous to the extramarital affairs or being true to the commitment of marriage. The definition of liberation is to set somebody free. I have let go of most of the anger and once delicious thoughts of maiming him.  The steps into liberation increase my sense of hope and happiness everyday.  The whole point of liberation is that you get out, restructure your life and take actions for yourself.  Viva la Melissa liberation!!

Like the content on my I-phone, these are the days of my life.

Like many people today I use my phone for everything.  It’s my calendar, contacts, mail, music, bank, games, books, camera, etc.  It possesses a significant part of many aspects of my life that formulate who I am.  I was sorting through the pictures in my camera and realized for the entire year there was one picture of me and my soon to be ex-husband on my phone.  One. That’s all, one.  I had to smile and kinda laughed to myself, he looked pissed.  It was on the vacation I took him on to Costa Rica.  It’s so obvious now our relationship had been over for a good year.  There was nothing between us on my phone except one picture, my sad and angry emails asking for his love and attention, not a facebook post about “us”, no shared playlists, no calendar dates, no high scores on games, nothing but one angry picture. I had over 20 pictures of his Skype communication with her and one picture of “us”. Oh sweet I-phone if I had only realized sooner the signs you showed me day in and day out.  I will refer to your reflection on the reality of my life more often.  

OMG He's Hot!

I was in my yoga class a few weeks ago and there was this amazing man.  Gorgeous muscular body, beautiful rich blue eyes and dirty blond hair.  At first I just appreciated his good looks and after a few moments there were butterflies in my stomach.  I could walk over and ask him out, I am not technically divorced but very separated and single.  Over the years throughout our courtship and marriage I had been in the company of some extraordinary looking men but my heart was married.  While I could appreciate their good looks and sometimes personalities, I never gave it more thought than that.  That is why after eight years of being with the same man and realizing I could approach someone else as a romantic interest, I made myself completely blush.  We are talking bright red face, cheeks tingling and starting to sweat.  I wish he was in my yoga class everyday, I have never sucked in my abs using my uddiyanna bandha so feircly for an hour  and a half.  It’s not like there is yoga spanx!   Of course I worked each pose as if I was on the cover of yoga journal, it was my best class.   I am not even close or in the realm of dating or even a rebound.  The betrayal and living a fake life for eight years is a bit of mind bender.  It sounds naive but to me it would be insincere to date someone while I am still technically married.  Although my husband and his extramarital lover’s one year anniversary is around this time.  It’s so odd to think that they will have been dating at least 16 months before our divorce is final.   How can I be sincere and open with another person while I still possess his last name?  It’s not me, who I am.   The best way to honor myself is to be real to myself and anyone else I chose to interact with in a romantic way.  I look forward to the day I will sit across from an attractive man and flirt.  While I wait patiently to reclaim my name, I will continue to appreciate and positively objectify gorgeous men I see on the streets.  If you see me blushing and holding my uddiyanna bandha there must be a cute guy nearby. 

A man is not a financial plan.

I saw that quote on a bumper sticker the other day and laughed out loud, no shit.  I started to think about our financial life together.  I have always been okay with money, don’t get me wrong I don’t have a lot but what I do have I worked hard for.   We never had a joint bank account or really mixed funds but we never discussed a monthly detailed budget or most of our finances.  We should have been partners in all financial matters.  I guess it’s hard to hide gifts or hotels for a mistress when the wife has access to the accounts, hunh.  For all of our relationship I made more money than he did but for the first few years we went “dutch” and each paid half.  When we moved to Vermont and bought a house together this changed.  I was making more and he told me he could only pay a portion and not half, okay no problem we were engaged at that point, I thought together for life.  In desperation to be the greatest fiancé/wife I wanted to create a comfortable home, I purchased almost all of our household goods.  Okay makes sense, but then came the day he bought a motorcycle.  He couldn’t contribute half because of his lack of income comparatively and child support but he could afford a motorcycle and the insurance to go with it.  That year our property taxes were doubled, my salary cut due to the economy and I was having trouble making ends meet for us.   There was that bike in the garage laughing at me everyday.  I was pissed and it sparked quite a few good fights between us.  Looking back I should have realized, it was all about him and would always be about him, never us.  I wonder now what girl he was trying to impress or maybe he might have met someone who had a bike herself.  He always complained of his funds being tight and with those types of decisions and the girls on the side, they must have been.   When I left I just wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible and was ready to work four shifts at McDonalds in order to make that happen.  I was lucky financially that I could leave.   If I was under a different circumstance, I would have fought for what I should have been entitled to.  All I really got was a moving van he funded and he took eight years of my life.  It equated to $500 a year for my love and loyalty as girlfriend, fiancé and wife.  After all of this you might think my heart is cold but it’s really my ass. I bought a new car while he was having his affair and because I didn’t know, I thought I would be in LA for years to come.  I didn’t go with the seat warmer option.  It’s getting cold up here in Seattle and he should have paid for heated seats to get installed.  As a gift I paid for our vacation in Costa Rica in May.  Now I understand why he was so upset that the Internet connectivity was intermittent, it disrupted his Skype’s with her on the vacation, I took him on.  I definitely deserve my money back from that.  What about all the money he spent on the girl or girls and maybe I should have been reimbursed for all the money I spent on his daughter.  Or better yet he should have paid me a nannies salary for all those hours I took care of his daughter. The wedding should have been refunded, the commitments he spoke of were already being broken and promises thwarted. His secret malicious actions ticked away my fertile years and has possibly jeopardized my dream of having children.  What he ultimately should pay for is freezing my eggs.  Although that would mean he would have a thread still attached to my dream by funding it.  Insert scissors here.  There is no part of my dreams he can be attached to and my funds will no longer support his double life.  A woman is not a financial plan, either.  At least this one won’t be, again.

Thank you.

These last few months life threw me a huge curveball, what could I possibly be Thankful for this holiday?  My incredible and amazing family and friends.  My parents have always been loving and supportive even through my hellish hormone filled teenage years.  They blessed me with the education, skills and emotional intelligence to be a well-rounded person.  They have loved me unconditionally for 36 years but that phone call was one of the hardest to make.  Telling them my marriage was over and I had been betrayed so harshly.  I knew they would continue to love me and see me through this difficult time but it’s still hard to reconcile that I brought this monster into their lives as well.  My parents, brother, sister in-law and friends were incredible.  They were there to listen, cry and let me vent.  They and many great friends checked on me regularly and their support gave me the strength I needed to make many life altering decisions I never thought would be a part of my life.  When deciding to drive from LA up to Seattle my mom flew down to LA to drive with me.  All those shattered pieces of my heart started to stitch themselves back together that day.  This wasn’t a mugging or break in where I could prevent a future instance by locking my doors, getting a gun or installing an alarm system.  It wasn’t a feeling of caution, being more vigilant or a fear of the night, this was constant by the man whom I shared my life with.   It’s hard to put into words the loss of security and sense of vulnerability that filled every moment those first few weeks.  Having someone physically by my side that truly loved me and only had my best intentions in their heart was beyond comforting. I realized I had been struggling underwater for two weeks trying to survive an emotional drowning.  I was able to pull my head above water that day my mom showed up on my doorstep in LA.  Every day since with the love and support of all of my family and friends, I get closer and closer to my sun drenched and palm tree filled beach.  There are not enough words or hugs to express the depth of my gratitude.   I look forward to the day I can show each of you my mended heart.  And for my family and friends with a pivotal role in my healing, the recognition in your eyes of the stitches you added, that will forever mend those tears.  I have had a few tough months but I get to be thankful for the most sacred facet of life, the love of family and friends.

The cat-less hystericaly sobbing woman at LAX, would be me.

Knuckles has been my cat for twelve years and was the runt of the litter with a broken tail.   He is completely neurotic and does not take to carriers or cars at all.  He senses the carrier and will hide for days.  It was a challenge to get him from Seattle to Vermont and then Vermont to LA.  When moving I decided to drive from LA to Seattle as I needed my car and I would have had a heart attack putting Mugsy on a plane.  She is not the bravest of giant dogs.  I left Knuckles and decided I would fly down the next week to get him.  I booked an early flight and had a few hours to get the cat and then fly back that night.  I knew it was going to be tough but was not ready for an emotional melt down.  When moving knuckles previously he hid in a wall for four hours while I sat on the kitchen floor just waiting for him to come out.   When I arrived in LA the soon to be ex-husband had left a message that he wouldn’t be at the house.  At one point he said he would be at the house, as he didn’t want me there without supervision.  I got there and he had bought a bunch of new furniture, towels, shower curtain and linens.  There was no sign of our lives or who “we” had been, I had been erased.  It was unsettling but not horrible or shocking,.  I called for Knuckles and he meowed so I went to the bedroom and he was in his normal spot under the bed.  I sat there on the floor waiting for him to come to me and he didn’t.  I then brought in some cat food and treats, Knuckles wasn’t coming out.   As time was getting tight I used a broom, moved the bed and no matter what I used he wasn’t moving.  As his howling increased so did my emotions.  I was getting very distraught and tried moving the mattress but the way the bed was I still couldn’t get to him.  At this point I needed to head to the airport and I was sobbing.  I called the taxi and while waiting for them I kept trying but Knuckle’s growling and hissing was gut wrenching.  I left with out him at that point.  The sweet Taxi driver tried to calm me down after I choked out my story of the affair and not being able to get the cat.  I got to the airport, cried my way through the document check and then security pulled me aside.  After a few minutes of pauses in sobs and hyper ventilated breathing the story went something like this; my husband…breathe & breathe…..had an affair….sobs……I flew down…..sob & breathe…to get….breathe…..my cat…..sob & sob & a little snot….I couldn’t get him…..breathe, sobs and more snot.  Yes you can giggle, I do it’s so tragic but funny.  They let me through and I made a straight shot with my head down and hair in my face to the united lounge.  The woman who was checking me in took one look at me and came around the counter and escorted me to the bathroom where I sat on the floor and just cried.  She brought me water and checked on me, until my flight.  The looks I got through the airport, flight attendants and passengers was one of great caution.  Everyone kept a close eye on the hysterical woman, not sure if I was threat or crazed with PMS. That was one of the hardest days I have had and I really appreciated the kindness of the taxi driver and united administrator.  They saw a stranger in need of help and did their best.   I made it home, got myself out of bed the next morning and started a new day.  Mr. Knuckles still resides in LA and I hope to get him back in the next few weeks.  Keep holdin’ on Knucks, if you happen to scratch or bite her all the better.

The Exam

Being a female every year you make the annual appointment for the gynecologist. The metal stirrups and flimsy paper outfit is not fun but necessary.   My last appointment was in October of the previous year and in moving I did a ton of research to find one of the best gynecology departments as I thought we would be starting a family.  The doctor had a frank discussion about my age and pregnancy and said the sooner the better.   There is nothing like realizing you may run out of time on a dream.  Okay I’ll never make So You Think You Can Dance, I won’t be an Olympic gymnast, not that I ever had that talent but I liked the thought and I can’t go back in time to be prom queen.   It was official, confirmed by the doctor, my clock was ticking.  Obviously with my husband’s schedule, disconnect and travel we never got down to discussing it again, until the night before our four year anniversary.   The night he said he didn’t want kids, although he said he was ready two years previous. Anyway after finding out about the affair my therapist mentioned I needed to get tested for STD’s and HIV.  I think my jaw hit the floor, not only had he betrayed me but now I could have possibly have something.   After taking the hottest shower, scrubbing and wishing I could dip myself in bleach, I made an appointment.  When I arrived the nurse asked why I had made a request for a full work up and through ever more tears that week, I told my story.   The last thing you want to do when betrayed is be in a vulnerable position and sitting there completely naked with a paper vest that barely reaches your belly button and a paper cloth over my lap was more than uncomfortable.  Rationally I knew I was at a doctor’s office so it shouldn’t be a big deal.  But emotionally, coupling the paper outfit with the thought that the next time I thought I would face the stirrups would be because I was pregnant, not getting tested for STD’s from my own husband.  This was humiliating.  The nurse and doctor were absolutely amazing.  The last person to explore that region was living a double life and here was someone with a spotlight, magnifying glass and tools all up in my business.   During the exam all I could think was at least the doctor had good intentions for my overall health.  This woman I met twice had more kindness and concern for me than the man I married did.   Those thoughts made the appointment easier and I held onto the pride of being a responsible adult, taking charge of my sexual health, no matter what happened.  I was very lucky that all my tests came back negative.  The nurse was hilarious in sharing stories of her ex-husband and had me laughing by the time I left.  I dreaded this appointment more than anyone could have known, and I survived. The last thing the nurse said to me was “girl you go out tonight and you do you”.   I am happy I get to focus on me but I keep glancing over my shoulder to look at that clock. 

The I am getting divorced because of a lying, cheating, affair loving idiot I married….playlist.

After the shock and numbness wore off and the realization that nothing I screamed would change his actions, I got outside and ran.  With every pounding step my feet made and every shake of my muscles the anger started to dissipate.  My mind started to clear and the decisions I made about my life were that much better.  Here was my playlist for the first few weeks.

Shut Up- Black Eyed Peas

Smile- Lily Allen

Happy Ending- Avrile Lavigne

Kiss Off- Violent Femmes

Fuck You- Ani Defranco

Eye of the Tiger- Survivor

Since You’ve Been Gone- Kelly Clarkson

Take the Power Back- Rage Against the Machine

Ring of Fire- Johnny Cash

I Hate Everything About You- Three Days Gone

Hey Fuck You- Beastie Boys

Mamma Said Knock You Out- LL Cool J

Move Bitch- Ludacris

So What- Pink

99 Problems- Jay Z (*substitute the bitch for dick ;)

Harder to Breathe- Maroon 5

Fighter- Christina Aguilera

Mr. Brightside- The Killers

Are You Happy Now- Michelle Branch

I already know your thinking what a random mix and wow she has some bad taste in music.  That’s me mainstream and I admit I can’t help but start dancing when certain pop songs hit.  Let’s just say my playlists are never chosen at a party by anyone other than me…..only after everyone’s left.  And okay it’s not exactly a run, it probably looks more like a jog but in my head watch out Jackie Joyner-Kersee and Paula Radcliffe. 

Twitter me this twitter me that.

I obsessed over their tweets for a few weeks.  I didn’t post anything on his twitter feed.  I wanted him to pay for my life to be shipped to a safe place and not ask for what he didn’t deserve, my savings.  I did tweet on her posts regularly for those first few weeks, my handle The1Wife.  On the picture of my husband and her best friend with the “loves of my life” caption my response “the love of your life is married, oh wait you knew that before you slept with him”.  When she posted about being hit on by a less than desirable guy I wrote, “don’t forget married men, oops actually you choose them”.  There were more but I never called her names, I only posted about what she had done.  It still makes me smile and the fact that it took her a month to figure out how to privatize her posts, speaks to her intelligence.  My therapist never encouraged me to look or post but she validated my feelings of anger and hurt.  It was a relief to hear that my behavior was completely normal and she said actually surprisingly “nice” comparatively to what others have done.  My thoughts were absolutely maniacal and bitchy, I had dreams of going to their office and making some sort of scene.  My favorite idea was to have balloons sent to each of them on the same day that said “congratulations”.  His note would have said, “congrats on finding a new babysitter” and hers would have said, “congrats on sleeping with my husband, I am sure your friends, family and co-workers are so proud”.  It would have been funny but I didn’t do it.  It’s money that I could spend on a facial, new boots or a massage.  On my drive from LA to Seattle only two weeks from finding out, I checked his feed.  He had posted a picture of them together on twitter.  I texted him.  He swore it wasn’t her.  His mind is so far gone or his other vice has such a grip that I think he believed his own lies.  I had studied her on Google through her posts, her friends posts, work posts, it was absolutely her.  I hadn’t even made it to Seattle yet and there they were together for the world to see.  I completely understand the women behind the stories on Snapped, I get Lorena Bobbitt and that moment in Waiting to Exhale where she loads her cheating husbands car with his clothes and lights it on fire.  There were many parts of my being that wanted to do all that and worse.  It’s nice to know those thoughts and feelings are normal, the choice to act is what separates us from murders and psychopaths.  I never did damage anything of his; I still relish my visions of his motorcycle finding it’s way off a cliff.  Not necessarily with him on it.....any more.  It’s been 2 ½ months since I found out and over a month since I last looked at his or her twitter page.  His tag line on twitter “I make and break dreams one day at a time” my perspective looking from the outside, wow what an egocentric ass.  I married the man that wrote that and he broke a lifetime of dreams.  There is a fire I light  inside myself everyday to live with love, trust and passion.  The bonus, I won’t be a feature story on Snapped and writing this from prison.   Although I see a new career path as a twitter recovery counselor, I am 36 days tweet feed free. 

Having a Ball in mediation!

I have mentioned this before but California is a “no fault” divorce state.  No matter what happens both parties are at fault and the marital assets are considered joint property.  In other words all the money he spent on her, possibly them, for dinner, drinks, hotels, lingerie (yep there was lingerie) etc was gone.  All the money I had saved and all the money I spent on towels, furniture, bedding, candles, pillows and items for his daughter, he had a right to.  We didn’t have any accounts together, luckily my dream of having a family never came true, and we had sold our house the year before in Vermont.  We didn’t have any financial ties except for everything I purchased to create a home and my savings.   I had saved that money for a time when I would have to suppliment my income while I had hoped to be pregnant.  He was entitled to half.  We did decide to go through a mediator because of our lack of intertwined assets and now I realize, lives. 

This was an interesting process and I would absolutely recommend that there be a neutral third party when deciding to separate.   People can change dramatically when it comes to discussing money and assets.  His deamenor in these meetings was the strangest thing I could have witnessed.  His body language was agitated, frustrated, petulant and outright angry.  Uh, hello your choices put this into motion and you are acting like the one betrayed and hurt.  I couldn’t help but almost laugh at the absurdity.  I was so shocked and concerned by his erratic behavior, I called his sister to make sure his family was in contact with him and providing some support.  It all made sense later, after understanding his other vices.   As I had mentioned previously, my desire to know all kept me coming back to his facebook and twitter posts.  I had refrained for almost two weeks of making any comments.  I knew I had to de-friend my husband, what an odd comment, I needed to de-friend my husband.  Anyway the night I planned on doing that was the week I was packing my things, his daughter had moved, he was staying somewhere else….mmm any guesses.  He had posted just minutes before I got on facebook that he had been working late at the office on spreadsheets, then I checked her twitter account and of course she was at the office making popcorn.  My last post on his page “I bet your just having a Ball”, her last name is Ball.  This was the first time I had been able to make a joke and find some humor in this awful situation.  It still makes me giggle.  We had a mediation meeting the next day and his first words to me “I saw your post, that was completely inappropriate and I won’t tolerate it”.  Seriously, seriously that was inappropriate!  Again I can’t say enough a neutral third party is a must.  My lessons learned, definitely find the humor but don’t post about it the night before a mediation session.  

The wedding ring tan line.

When I awoke in the guesthouse the morning after finding out about the affair, I laid in the dark staring at the ceiling, disbelieving this was all happening.  I unconsciously moved my left thumb over the inside of my ring finger and I was immediately nauseous.  I took the wedding and engagement rings off.  In the haze of the morning darkness a stripe of white skin glowed.  My Vermont skin that hadn’t been exposed to the LA sun for a year, was bleached teeth white, Hollywood sign white, virgin wedding dress white.  I had to laugh at the absurdity of the prominent tell tale sign of a life altered.  In the strangest way I have to give that white stripe credit for keeping me calm in overwhelming moments.  Every time I looked down and saw that glowing insignia it made me pause and take a deep breathe.  That pause for breathe through out those first few weeks gave me a reassurance of my self.  When my emotions were rising to the surface at inopportune moments at the grocery store, yoga, mediator’s, gas station, walking the dog, work, it was that white stripe that forced me to take pause and inhale.  That moment allowed me to gather my strength and diminish the rawness of emotions.  It took some time but the glowing stripe is gone although there is still a slight skin indentation.  That too will heal in time just like me.    

A nightmare on my street and the stranger beside me.

The physical manifestation of betrayal is like the 360 head spin of Linda Blair in the exorcist.  I saw all of their Skype communication for eight months and it was not the sex im’s that bothered me.  It was the pre-meditated malicious maneuvering he chose to do to both his daughter and myself.  As with any affair there are the expected late night dinners and work trips the wife doesn’t know they were on together.  Those were bad enough, he said he would go into work early but no, he went to her bed after leaving ours.   While his parents were visiting saying he was going surfing in the morning but again seeing her.  While my parents and I were taking his daughter to Disneyland he was spending the nights with her in a hotel at a work event.   The invasion of uncontrollable emotions snatches your physical body and lasts for days and weeks.  The shaking, inability to process stop signs or lights, order coffee, pay a parking meter, or be able to speak a coherent sentence lasts the first few days.  The shortness of breath, constant thirst, heat radiating from every cell, breaking out in hives, constant stomach pain and the uncontrollable tears lasted a few weeks. I obsessed over the details of their communication I had captured on my phone.  My first inclination, I wanted all of the information to dissect the dates, times, where they went, what he said and what she said.  This is the part in the scary movie where everyone is saying don’t go down to the basement but they always do and I did.  The monster in the basement is there, I wanted so badly for it to be a joke or not real.  I wanted to find the sweet Sully from Monsters Inc but I found a monster that was more like Freddy Kruger, Michael, or Jason.  If you can avoid knowing the details, do. It might have saved me some money on calamine lotion, water, an inhaler, Tums and most importantly a little of my sanity. We were in a situation that I felt I had to stay to show support and love for his little girl who had been working on a play for months and the performances were that week.  We were lucky that we had a guesthouse but I would advise to make the proximity of interaction as wide as possible.  It is blindingly emotional and the physical and mental manifestation process is like every cell in your body violently vomiting when faced with that person.  Since we were still in somewhat of proximity I had two exorcist moments, I did get to yell and express my shock, anger and pain.  In retrospect it didn’t matter, it had been over for him eight months ago and maybe our entire union never mattered.  He was getting everything he had wanted for months and it was as sudden as a brutal Kruger or Jason attack for me.  The most revolting reaction was mine, this is the nightmarish part of the movie where the victim escapes running to get help from the next stranger only to find that same evil person behind the wheel. I wanted so badly to run to him and tell him about this sociopath and all the lies he had told me and how hurt I was.  I still wanted to share my hurt and pain with my partner, it’s sick and demented.  I know now, he didn’t deserve my time, my pain was too good for him, my tears worth more than any diamond he put on my finger. He lied for months and possibly years nothing he could say would be believable. He finally showed his full character, all of himself and he was a stranger.

Leaving is easy, not knowing the truth of your last eight years is difficult.

Lies, lies and more lies.  I am a smart, confident and savvy woman how did I not know?  The jilted wives in the movies I thought were so unbelievable.   They must have known or suspected something.  Now my viewpoint is completely different.  He was distant and we were not connecting but I never thought he would cheat or have an eight-month affair.   I trusted him completely, blindly, as any couple should trust.   On one communication back in February she asked if him if he had always cheated on his wife.  She knew he was married, what woman sleeps with a married man? That was shocking in itself but his response was worse “have a I been 100% faithful, NO”.  My entire marriage was a farce.  The last four years of my life were an illusion.   Every time we spoke, every conversation we had, every time we were together, every meal we had, every moment of my last four years was a lie.  When confronting him on their conversations he said he was dating other people when we were dating.  Now the entire eight years we were together were completely false.  We had the exclusivity talk before we moved in together.  Did he fall on his head and have amnesia and forget he was a boyfriend, a fiancé and ultimately a husband.  No car accidents and no falls off a cliff, it was his choice to continuously lie, manipulate and betray me.  All of his actions, words and thoughts for eight years to see other women, were intentional.  The most hurtful, deceptive and frightening communication was the exchange a day after the “I am unhappy” confrontation we had. He said to this girl, “I plan on being single soon, will you stay with me here so I can still be a dad”.  Was I going to be a Friday night Dateline Mystery expose?  He had been planning for months to have this new girl move right into my place as an acting wife and his daughter’s caregiver.  Would she clean the house, make dinners, do the shopping and attend to the “family” errands? That particular Skype was done on a night when his daughter and I were home, sitting there in the living room together, with him, as a family.  Who is this person I married? What mental disorder must he have to function in this way?  This was pre-meditated and continuous in every moment of my life for at least eight months.  Probably even years and maybe the entire relationship based on his comments of never being faithful.  There should be a criminal law against this type intentional, deliberate, and calculated manipulation.  The wounds are not out-right physical but no less hurtful.

In girl scouts I earned the first aid badge, I know how to tend to wounds, deal with a heart attack, car crash, etc.  There really should be a girls scout badge for surviving cheating partners. It’s odd to say but if there was a physical wound I could go to the hospital or drug store, gather the gauze, anti-septic, wrapping and sew up the gashes and abrasions. Visually and physically observing the transformation of the wounds healing as time passes.  More importantly I could file charges and he would be forced by the state to take responsibility for the injuries he created.  He would be held responsible.  California is a “no-fault” divorce state and he got everything he wanted, zero responsibility to a wife, daughter, dog, house, and family.  Except, I found out.  I have come to terms with the fact that I will never know the truth of our relationship but finding out about two of his vices made leaving incredibly easy.   Girls scout detective badge, check.

Why I choose to tell my story.

These stories are deeply personal and when I read it I want to look away, even though I am living it. This is the ugly and disgusting side of marriage no one wants.  I share because I felt incredibly alone on this journey.  It is the subject matter of movies, television shows and gripping love songs but I thought miles away from me.  In the beginning there is an overwhelming feeling of shame and humility that I couldn’t hold my marriage together.  The betrayal is crushing and the sense of loss over a fictional life I lead was bewildering.  How do you move forward and make decisions, when for the last eight years your decisions were based on a lifetime expectation of “us” and “we”.  That is why I give you my story.  I hope that someone else won’t feel alone and take solace in an aspect of my experience.  Possibly learn from my mistakes and find laughter in some of the ironic and preposterous moments.  Being deceived in the most intimate way is awful and disturbing but you can choose to move on and live a great life of love.  I felt I needed to give you the background culmination of events that lead to this point in my life.  What I really want to share are the actions I took immediately following and the adventures I continue to navigate daily.  These are the steps I am taking and the story of how I am pulling myself together.

A few of you may think what about “them”, do they want this story out there for the cyber world to see? Obviously once I knew her name, I googled her.  On the very fist hit it showed her twitter account and in the following subject lines showed my husbands name.  They tweeted so often his name comes up under the first hit on a google search of her.  I didn’t even know my husband had a twitter account.  Reading their months of comments and responses it was clear they had an intimate relationship and were sharing it on twitter.  She had even posted a picture of my husband with her best friend with the caption “The loves of my life” all months before I knew.  They put their relationship out there for months and now I choose to share a complete story.  There was a wife, daughter, dog, cat, home and a lifetime of promises and lies.

The ugly truth and best $350 I ever spent!

Over the next few days we talked further and he was as attentive and caring as he had been in the amazing moments of our relationship.   Held me, talked to me, told me all the loving things I wanted to hear.  He left it in my hands, do I stay with someone who doesn’t want children, give up my dreams and save my marriage.   The devastation I felt was tremendous.   I thought my 35^th birthday was crappy my 36^th birthday was horrendous.  I found a therapist immediately.  I needed someone who didn’t know us, didn’t know me, and could be partial.  I knew in my heart of hearts I could never be with someone who asked me to give up my dreams.  The therapist was amazing and I happened to mention the pictures I saw.  She asked me if I was trusting or did I always snoop and I trusted him completely.  She said this is obviously something that is not sitting well with you and maybe you need to explore it.  The $350 I spent for that advice was the best money a girl could spend.  I know I could have bought a Kate Spade purse, a strappy pair of Jimmy Choo’s, or a new club chair.  What I got was the courage and curiosity I needed.  A week later he left his computer open on the bed.  He wasn’t home and those words echoed in my head “maybe you need to explore it”.   I clicked on the Skype icon and looked up the co-workers name.  There it all was.  It was August 15^th  just a few days after my birthday and I saw all of their communication back to January.  Really eight and a half months and I didn’t know.  I saw it all every bit of communication.  I was shaking, and his daughter knocking on the door asking if I was ready to go to the movies yet.  Holy crap I am shaking, shaking, shaking, and shaking.  Really this is all happening.  I got my phone and took pictures, I’ve seen enough movies to know I needed proof.   I took his daughter to the movies and tried to act normal.  My mouth was dry, I couldn’t breath and I was shaking.   I still have no clue how I drove a car.  There should be some sort of law “against affair discovery driving” AADD. After the movie I texted him “you lying, cheating, bastard, glad I can babysit your daughter while you are out on a date with Raechel”.  He said I was crazy; he had no idea what I was talking about and was on his way home.  When he got home he continued to deny it until I said let’s look at your computer or even better we could just look at the pictures on my phone.  He finally admitted it.  He was going to make me think our marriage was over because he didn’t want kids and knew it was my deal breaker.  Who was this person in front of me?  It is amazing how quickly the heart can go from unconditional love to bitter hatred when so intimately betrayed.  

Background- The Devastation

He’s “unhappy”.  On July 4^th he made this declaration.  You have a loving wife who has supported your every move, your daughter just moved full time into your life, you have a job you love, you travel, and your wife is taking care of all the cleaning, majority of cooking, dog walking, shopping, etc but “he was unhappy”.  Seriously, I lost my shit.  I was making every effort and there was no effort on his part but “he was unhappy”.  I told him he needed to find a therapist and let me know when he knew what would make him happy.  Little did I know then he knew exactly what made him happy.  They were two things and maybe more he never wanted me to know.  After further conversations over the next few weeks he said he loved me more than anything and would work on his own issues.  He said it was all due to the stress of his fast paced and demanding job.  Later that month his parents visited and my parents visited.  It was clear we were still having a fight hangover and I was upset by his comments.  I was glad that he was not around while my parents were visiting.  He was at an event in downtown LA and staying there.  As with any twelve-year-old pre-teens there were some challenging hormone filled days.  On one of those days, I texted him that I needed to talk and needed support in handling his daughter.  All day he kept saying he would call but never did.  That night I knew I would be able to find a picture of him drinking at the events his work required him to attend.  I was angry, if I was a nanny or babysitter he would have called.  I wanted to text him the picture of himself drinking and rub it in that he was too busy drinking to call his wife, for five minutes of support to deal with his daughter.  Well I found some pictures, nothing inappropriate but several posted from a co-worker I did not know.   When he came home the next night we had a large discussion about my efforts as a wife and caregiver to his daughter and my needs of him as a husband.  This was the night before our 4^th wedding anniversary and we talked for a long time about our future.  At the conclusion of that discussion and his adamant declaration of love and devotion to me, he said, “I don’t want to have kids”.  The stars fell out of the sky that night, my lifetime of dreams were crushed. 

Can you give up the largest dream in your heart, soul and being?  Can you stay with someone that asks you to give up your most cherished dream?  

Background- Only you can set you free.

The move to LA was challenging but good.  We became closer in those first few months and he was so excited about his new position.  It was an incredible next step for his career.  It was good for a few months and then it all unraveled.  In November of that year my family came down for Thanksgiving and he was completely aloof.  In December and through the holidays he was extremely distant.  Then the New Year hit, I came down with Pneumonia, he severed two tendons in a finger, had four surgeries in the next five months.   He was traveling extensively and I found myself alone frequently.  His daughter’s mom decided to divorce in April and his daughter moved in with us full time.  The mom stayed with us for a month and a half as well.  I was happy to open our home to her, she needed help and how can I not offer to help someone that is family, I thought we would be tied together forever.   I was ecstatic to have his daughter move in, I really love her like she is my own.  I was overjoyed for him, this was one of his dreams becoming a reality.  I thought he would make an effort to be home with his daughter but it was the two of us.  One of my faults is pride as I am not a woman that begs for anything.  I like supporting myself and not having to rely on anyone but me.  When attending college in San Francisco there was a few weeks when I was challenged to make ends meet and for a week only consuming PB&J’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I finally called my parents and through my tear filled call asked for some money.  They have always been supportive and would jump at the chance to help me, but I have a profound desire to succeed in everything on my own.  In remembering the communications with my husband for almost a year I stood my ground, demanded and fought then eventually begged, even pleaded for his time and attention.  The loving and kind words expressed to gain his affection were pathetic.  I thought he was overwhelmed needing time and support to get a handle on his demanding job.   Finding a way to balance a new routine with me, and now the addition of his daughter.  I found myself planning my life around his career, his travel schedule, his needs, and his daughter.  I recognized all of this when it was happening but wanted to be a loving and supportive wife.   In trying to create a family life that would work for him, I was losing myself.

Background- They dream in courtship but in wedlock wake.

I found my prince but I am smart enough to know marriage is not a fairytale.  There is a shift from that consuming and irresistible romantic love of overly adorable nicknames and “no you hang up first” moments, to a deep-rooted love.  The kind built on hundreds of small memories, moments, and secret looks shared together.  I will catapult the background story forward to move you into what I truly want to share as my journey.   Just over a year into the relationship we moved to Vermont, he proposed, we bought a house, got married and settled into our careers.  We didn’t settle into our marriage or our lives it was our careers.   We both had positions with different companies that we excelled at.  We found challenges, rewards and traveled the world separately. Looking back I would have said we both wanted to be loved but I think in very different ways.  I wanted the lifetime of love and devotion of those small moments and he wanted the romantic dopamine induced chemical reaction a sustained “love-high”.  I can tell you there is not a chance of a romantic “love-high” after being together for years and dealing with jet lag.  You do want nothing more than to be with your loved one but after 27 hours of traveling when you feel like your head is numb, insides bloated, not sure if you have shaved your legs lately, wondering what underwear you are wearing, and know that the last meal you ate on the plane did not yield great kissing breath, only to collapse asleep sitting up while still trying to share your stories and so badly wanting to hear his.  On the flip side it is agonizing to have spent the day cleaning and preening to great your loved one only to find them in that same jet lagged state.  It’s almost like a first date that goes wrong every time.  The chemically induced rip your clothes off romance did become less frequent and enchanting.   In my perception it was replaced with many fun, sweet and savory moments that develop in ones everyday life.  The moment at a BBQ when you look across the yard and share that secret smile.  The times one of you gets up early to make the other’s favorite breakfast.  When it’s snowed a few feet and the first one up starts the other’s car for them.  I never recognized that he did not see these moments as love just an act to gain physical affection, but it changed from that dopamine induced reaction to what I felt as real love.  The marriage flowed like many marriages of being connected and disconnected.  Living in Vermont was a struggle for him and his everyday attitude exhibited that strain.  It is difficult to live with someone spent in negativity.  We agreed that re-locating would be a great opportunity for both of us personally and professionally.  I didn’t know then it would alter our relationship forever.