Coming Through With Grace -- My Story
In 1996 my world as I knew it from a 33 year-old's perspective was "perfect": I had a handsome and successful husband; 3 darling and (mostly) well-behaved children under five; a nice home in a modest neighborhood in Santa Fe; bi-annual vacations...and it all came crashing down in a single 10-second "moment" with my husband, instantly throwing my perfect world into a 20-month-long storm of chaos, heartbreak, disbelief, grief, and surprisingly--the calmest peace I had ever experienced.
I could not have known then that it would also be the most profound event that would transform my life. He had numerous affairs for most of our ten-year marriage, and despite all the clues, I was clueless. In the days and weeks that followed my discovery of his infidelities, I was stunned and full of self-blame; I was sure I had driven him to act out sexually.
Because, you see, I hadn't been the wife and mother I knew I could be or wanted to be. I was angry, uptight, restless, and something deep within me was driving my feelings of inadequacy. Ironically, it was my husband's lies that destroyed the denial that had me firmly stuck in place, and catapulted me into a place of longing for more peace and happiness.
Months after we both entered 12-step recovery groups and individual therapy, I finally understood that I had nothing to do with my husband's affairs. My self-blame turned into compassion for myself and for him, and my shock led me down a path of healing. My "new normal" began to take shape as I discovered over the ensuing months who I was, what I liked/disliked, and what I no longer needed. I knew (long before it happened) that I'd be writing a book, divorcing my husband, and moving on in my life as a thriving single mom. And I knew I'd be sharing my experiences with people who found themselves in the same situation (see book here).
After we spent two years trying to pull our relationship back together, my husband was going downhill again, having admitted that change was just too hard, but this time, I was willing to listen to my gnawing intuition that told me something was amiss. I'd already grown and changed with active participation in my own life, so I was not willing to jeopardize my new-found happiness, even if it cost me my marriage, and my children their father.
Having endured the worst part of our story, I was quickly becoming a happy single mom, challenging myself and loving life. I quit a job, wrote a book (here), traveled with my kids, and dated. I was practicing healthy behaviors and making healthier decisions. I was still attracting addicts (dammit!), but I was also learning how to let them go much faster. I felt strong, connected to a higher power, and trusting that life would unfold as it should.
It's been almost two decades since that awful moment (already?), and while the experience changed me, life has not been all peaches and roses since this dramatic event. After five years thriving as a new family of four, I moved my brood of three pre-teens from Santa Fe to Seattle, and began a new life with a new man. But something about the old marriage was familiar to this new relationship, and over the next few years I began to take stock of what I had accepted, again, and I was pissed. I thought for sure that God had led my little family to a safe place, but in reality, I had just traded addictions while moving cross country. Hmmm. I was the common denominator, so perhaps I was the one choosing destructive mates, believing they were healthy, when in fact, my intuition was screaming at me to see the real deal: addictions were still winning, because I was still allowing them to. This time, it was an alcoholic who was stirring up those familiar feelings of craziness. "Living with an alcoholic is too much for most of us" was certainly ringing true.
I'd already been in 12-step recovery programs when I landed in my new state, but I ditched them because...well, because I did. My partner thought it was bunk, so I began to doubt my new-found practices, too. And predictably, I began adopting old habits and acting out former dysfunction. It didn't help that my book had just been published and my family went mute because of the secret I'd mentioned about my childhood (for story, see here).
But despite knowing all I knew, and learning all I had, I was still not fully listening to that small voice that always told me the truth. I had stayed far too long in relationships that weren't nurturing, and I was still paying the price. It was time to get my butt back into a healing place. Perhaps if I'd had someone (a Coach!) to lead me safely down the dark paths I stared into, I'd have survived the sad and difficult months more easily. Sigh.
I kept waiting for the story to change; when, in fact, I had to change the story.
It took me another decade of detours, sadness, more healing, and many more lessons to turn life around again. It's been full of heartache, but on the flip side, it has also been chock-full of too many blessings to count. And it all started when my life "fell apart."
In 1996 my world as I knew it from a 33 year-old's perspective was "perfect": I had a handsome and successful husband; 3 darling and (mostly) well-behaved children under five; a nice home in a modest neighborhood in Santa Fe; bi-annual vacations...and it all came crashing down in a single 10-second "moment" with my husband, instantly throwing my perfect world into a 20-month-long storm of chaos, heartbreak, disbelief, grief, and surprisingly--the calmest peace I had ever experienced.
I could not have known then that it would also be the most profound event that would transform my life. He had numerous affairs for most of our ten-year marriage, and despite all the clues, I was clueless. In the days and weeks that followed my discovery of his infidelities, I was stunned and full of self-blame; I was sure I had driven him to act out sexually.
Because, you see, I hadn't been the wife and mother I knew I could be or wanted to be. I was angry, uptight, restless, and something deep within me was driving my feelings of inadequacy. Ironically, it was my husband's lies that destroyed the denial that had me firmly stuck in place, and catapulted me into a place of longing for more peace and happiness.
Months after we both entered 12-step recovery groups and individual therapy, I finally understood that I had nothing to do with my husband's affairs. My self-blame turned into compassion for myself and for him, and my shock led me down a path of healing. My "new normal" began to take shape as I discovered over the ensuing months who I was, what I liked/disliked, and what I no longer needed. I knew (long before it happened) that I'd be writing a book, divorcing my husband, and moving on in my life as a thriving single mom. And I knew I'd be sharing my experiences with people who found themselves in the same situation (see book here).
After we spent two years trying to pull our relationship back together, my husband was going downhill again, having admitted that change was just too hard, but this time, I was willing to listen to my gnawing intuition that told me something was amiss. I'd already grown and changed with active participation in my own life, so I was not willing to jeopardize my new-found happiness, even if it cost me my marriage, and my children their father.
Having endured the worst part of our story, I was quickly becoming a happy single mom, challenging myself and loving life. I quit a job, wrote a book (here), traveled with my kids, and dated. I was practicing healthy behaviors and making healthier decisions. I was still attracting addicts (dammit!), but I was also learning how to let them go much faster. I felt strong, connected to a higher power, and trusting that life would unfold as it should.
It's been almost two decades since that awful moment (already?), and while the experience changed me, life has not been all peaches and roses since this dramatic event. After five years thriving as a new family of four, I moved my brood of three pre-teens from Santa Fe to Seattle, and began a new life with a new man. But something about the old marriage was familiar to this new relationship, and over the next few years I began to take stock of what I had accepted, again, and I was pissed. I thought for sure that God had led my little family to a safe place, but in reality, I had just traded addictions while moving cross country. Hmmm. I was the common denominator, so perhaps I was the one choosing destructive mates, believing they were healthy, when in fact, my intuition was screaming at me to see the real deal: addictions were still winning, because I was still allowing them to. This time, it was an alcoholic who was stirring up those familiar feelings of craziness. "Living with an alcoholic is too much for most of us" was certainly ringing true.
I'd already been in 12-step recovery programs when I landed in my new state, but I ditched them because...well, because I did. My partner thought it was bunk, so I began to doubt my new-found practices, too. And predictably, I began adopting old habits and acting out former dysfunction. It didn't help that my book had just been published and my family went mute because of the secret I'd mentioned about my childhood (for story, see here).
But despite knowing all I knew, and learning all I had, I was still not fully listening to that small voice that always told me the truth. I had stayed far too long in relationships that weren't nurturing, and I was still paying the price. It was time to get my butt back into a healing place. Perhaps if I'd had someone (a Coach!) to lead me safely down the dark paths I stared into, I'd have survived the sad and difficult months more easily. Sigh.
I kept waiting for the story to change; when, in fact, I had to change the story.
It took me another decade of detours, sadness, more healing, and many more lessons to turn life around again. It's been full of heartache, but on the flip side, it has also been chock-full of too many blessings to count. And it all started when my life "fell apart."
"Tragedy doesn't change who you are--it just shows who you are"
