Happy Anniversary (Blog) to Moi!

One year ago, people — one year ago I decided to write about the shit my life was in! In many ways, it helped keep my sane. In other ways, I questioned it!

It honestly seems longer than one year. I am happy I wrote down “my calendar of emotions!” I really am. It helps me remember key points and turning points in my life. I have a habit of forgetting some of those (self-preservation? damn straight), so the chronicle of the events help.

Quick life update: another 2+ weeks in my cast to go. I am seriously going stir crazy! Remodel project is more than half way through! I’ll post photos soon, I promise! Marriage is going well. There are dry spells in communication, but I’m chalking it up to stress of life (broken ankle, loss of job and remodel). When I would get too “into my head” I would get up and go for a fast walk to work it out of my system. I can’t do that and it’s definitely affecting me! Yesterday, I was a bit blue. J sensed it and asked what was wrong, but I didn’t want to get into anything. I just didn’t have the energy. I can’t wait to get this friggin cast off! Today, I woke up in a better mood.

I promise it does get better. Whatever the decision you’ve made (flight or fight / stay or go), it HAS to get better!

I hope 2015 is awesome for not only me, but YOU, too!


I couldn’t have stopped it

Stop, in the name of love

Stop, in the name of love

So, the weekend before last, lying in bed before turning the light out I had one of those friggin’ Oprah “Uh-huh” moments. It hit me right in the face. They don’t happen often and especially since his affair, I can’t remember shit! (Advanced apologies…this will be filled with curse words).

Let me back up a bit.

That day was spent backing up my old phone in preparation of getting the new iPhone (yes, I’m back to an iPhone and it should behave a lot better than the S5).

I had gotten to the realization that the new phone would not be my “Dday” phone, but my Dday+1 year phone. Meaning, I wasn’t going to port over all my old messages to the new phone and still live in the past. Nope, wasn’t going to do it. So, I backed up (in multiple ways, just in case) the messages of denial and then admission and then love and recovery for the past 12 months. There were a lot between my husband and I! Definitely more than what he had texted with EB (Evil Bitch for you new comers).

So, after backing up, I took a stroll down memory lane and read the before Dday texts. I started to place more of my mental timeline together. Things were falling into the cracks and it was making more sense.

Fast forward to bedtime, and it hit me. There wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent him having the affair and fucking her! Yeah…I know, I know!!!! But, here me out.

Case in point, The night before he fucked her, we made love and he gave me a hickey (sorry, TMI, but what the hell…). Yeah, that hadn’t happened in a long time. I don’t recall it (the sex) being extra wonderful, but it was good enough for a hickey. Hell, he could have been imagining her for all I know!

I thought back on other dates and I really think he was so messed up that he was determined to fuck her. Their texting was in a frenzy leading up to that day and at this point, if I showed up naked at his office door, he would have pushed me aside and fucked her instead.

So, that night, lying in bed, I got real quiet. It was an epiphany. He asked what was up and I told him that I realized no matter what, he was going to cheat. I couldn’t have prevented it. I told him that we made love the night before. I was powerless and didn’t even know it.

What did he say? NOT A FUCKING THING. Crickets had more to say than this husband of mine.

In a weird way, it was rather freeing. For 12 months I blamed myself for part of the affair. For being “distant” at times, blah, blah, fucking blah….

Not anymore. His mind and his dick were made up. And it’s ALL on him and not me! Not that part of the relationship. I’ll own my dissatisfaction with the marriage back then, but not his affair.

Anyway, I thought I’d share that fact and see if any of you felt the same way?

Dday here and gone

So, everyone, I survived Dday.

Shocker…I know!

Things are going well. He seems to really love me, and I him. But, I still have doubts. I’m sure he does, too.

This week sucked because October 14th was Dday. But, it didn’t suck as bad as I thought.

Guess I am doing better than I ever imagined? Who the hell knows?

He was good, attentive and loving. I thanked him for being great this week and he had to ask why. Sigh…I chalk it up to being a guy. Either he was playing coy or he was guy-clueless. Whatever.

I have lingering doubts about some things and I’m writing them down so I’m not such a coward to admit them:

  1. Why hasn’t he looked for a job? [Biggest doubt, most painful and important]
  2. What do they talk about at work?
  3. Does he still like her?
  4. Why hasn’t she found a new job?
  5. Communication: Our conversations often seem one-sided. He talks about his stuff and I listen really well. I’m really interested. I love him. But, when it comes to my stuff, he seems to “check out” and not really listen. That hurts, to be honest.

I don’t know. There are times I don’t respond to his texts right away. Just being pissy at times, because I don’t want to be too available/desperate. Weird, I know––immature, I know…

We signed the remodeling contract and that is also a small doubt in my mind. When it’s complete, will he decide we aren’t working out? Him thinking that I’m finally getting the kitchen and bath done, I’ll be happy with that and it will be a good time for him to leave?

Like I said, just lingering doubts. I’m sure we all have them.

Have I forgiven him? No, not yet. Not sure it will ever get to that. I hope so, but I’m not jumping too fast to forgive when I still have Doubt #1!

Anyway, that’s all for now. Hope all of you are doing well xoxo

Wedding Anniversary…check! Dday Antiversary…gulp!


So, I am back from a fun filled trip to Bermuda with my groom of 25 years. It was awesome! Just what we needed!

Only a few hiccups and triggered thoughts, but otherwise, I refused to let his affair ruin our trip – so it didn’t!

I’m writing this as I’m drinking my freshly squeezed veggie cocktail. I’m on the detox train to healthy living. Needed it after last week’s pinot noir, rum and ice vodka haze! Damn, it was fun!

We rented scooters and popped around the island like professionals (in other words, we didn’t crash or die – haha). We jet skied, snorkeled and drank our way around the island.

Yeah, just what the doctor ordered! Wish we were still there!

So, Monday was our actual anniversary. Our first day home, spent  unpacking. It was nice, but I was a little timid to be honest.

I gave him a card in the morning and waited…waited…waited for something (just wanted a card) from him! He left his card on my pillow so I saw it when we went to bed. I was rather hurt by that. Why make me wonder and wait? I didn’t get a card for Valentine’s Day (yeah, I know…I know!). But, I was hoping I would get one for our big anniversary. His card was lovely and what he said was wonderful. But…I felt a bit hurt. What was I expecting? Diamond stud earrings? No, but something more than a sneak card…

So, in bed I expressed my disappointment. I thanked him for the card, but wasn’t sure I was going to get one. He apologized and then in the morning, apologized again. We both made a truce and said that we didn’t want that issue to tarnish such a great week. Brave face in the morning, feeling better and went back to work (boooooo).

Here’s a list of positives and negatives from the week:


We had a lot of great sex. Yeah, I’m still smiling from it!

He hugged me, kissed me and then said that he was so happy to be in love like this. It was heartfelt and I felt it in my heart 🙂

We spent all of our time together (98%) and wanted more!

We laughed, drank and had silly moments, too.


Just one or two triggers for me. I really can’t think of them but they were there.

I made a comment after he mentioned he thought the cruise director was a bit stuck up. My comment was, “Yeah, she reminds me of your girlfriend.” I meant his girlfriend BEFORE me, not Evil Bitch. Well, this is the one comment that hurt him and he didn’t tell me until Monday night. He thought I meant EB, but I assured him I didn’t. So, what did he say? “Well, Julie (the cruise director’s name, I kid you not….) looks more like ‘the other one’ than does D*****.” Yeah — it was an odd moment. I went to sleep not feeling the best on our anniversary. Rather mad and had a nice visual thanks to his admission!

But, but, but…I knew it wasn’t really a big deal. It wasn’t. We spent a great week together. I didn’t want to give his failure that much weight.

So, this week’s post wedding anniversary is a strange one for me. This weekend will be his one year ago weekend of lying to my face. And next Tuesday will be Dday. I’m filled with trepidation but it’s manageable. Honestly, I’m better than I thought I would be. But, I do feel anxious. Waiting for that other shoe…

I’m not over it, yet. But, I am better. I do feel more like myself for the first time in a long time.

It’s still just one day at a time. I just wish I was sipping a Dark and Stormy on Horseshoe Bay Beach!

A Year Ago Today

My husband had intercourse with the Evil Bitch a year ago today.

I know this specifically because he wrote it in a letter to me last November. His timeline of his affair.

Was it the first time they had sex? No. You see, to a woman, sex is defined by any sexual touch. To men, sex is defined by intercourse. I don’t know the specific date they had “sex” – he doesn’t recall. After all, it was “dozens of times” (they touched, kissed and other things). Yeah, that makes me feel so much better…

Therefore, it was more than one year ago he had “sex” with her in my mind.

How do I feel today? What am I doing?

Well, I feel distant about it. Not really hurting horribly. I guess a bit numb. Time helps. Our progress in healing has helped. My attitude helps.

Do I still want to rip every hair out of her head and break her teeth? Youbetcha!

Where is my husband today? Well, he’s on his way to a big college football (American football) game with his brother. He won’t be home until late tonight. Tailgating is a sport in itself around here.

Does my husband have any idea what day is today and what it means? Probably not.

However, he is very aware how many days it is until we leave for Bermuda. He has been counting those days down since two+ weeks ago. I’m happy about that. It makes me feel loved and hopeful.

So, instead of wallowing in any self pity, I’ve got plans to get myself out of the house.

First, mani/pedi – it’s time for some dark nails to ring in the autumn weather! After that, my girlfriend and I will walk around a nearby town’s cheese festival (yes, it is festival season, after all). Then, I will take my oldest son out for a great dinner. And then, at the end of the night, I’ll probably watch some soppy chick flick and ball my eyes out as an excuse to let it all out.

Will I throw the date in my husband’s face? No. I won’t mention it. It’s one of the many wounds I will carry for the rest of my days.

So, chin up, getting my ass up and starting my day.

Happy September 13th, everyone…

D Day Definition

D Day has many meanings in history, specifically military history.

However, to a betrayed partner/spouse, D Day = Discovery Day, Destruction Day, Devastation Day, Dickhead Day, Disappointed Day, Divulgence Day, Death Day, etc.

For me, Discovery + Destruction + Devastation + Dickhead + Disappointment + Divulge + Death = my D Day.

  • Discovery of his adultery and lies.
  • Destruction of my faith and trust in him.
  • Devastation of my soul.
  • Dickhead (no explanation necessary).
  • Disappointment in his character and morals.
  • Divulgence (to divulge or not to divulge…his internal dialog.)
  • Death of our marriage and possible love.

I was thinking what you would call the days before D Day? I came up with C Day (ha!). C Day for committed life, carefree life, common morals, contentment, companionship, and CLUELESS! That’s what I would call my marriage before October 14, 2013.

Anyway, I hope you don’t mind my semi-detailed diary/timelines here. It helps me make sense of my life and all the drama. So, grab another cup of coffee and I’ll continue my D Day story…

It’s October 14, 2013. I waited for J’s return home but instead, I received a text…THE text that will define our lives for the rest of time (our time).

Let me set the scene: I was home, it was almost time to start dinner, both boys were about. I looked at the text and the few opening lines (you know, the ones that you get the gist of the entire blurb without reading too far — kind of like a Dear John Letter, just reading that opening salutation). I read the first 5-10 words and froze, freaked, said, OH, MY GOD a billion times.

My youngest son rushed in and asked what was wrong. I quickly composed myself and said it was nothing. Then I foolishly told him I was running to the store to buy cat food. He wasn’t really buying it. I started to break down a bit and then hugged him and asked that if he heard from his father, to please call me right away. I then left the house, drove to a nearby park and read the text, over and over…

I’m not going to post the actual text (sorry, but I don’t have to divulge all things personal here…).

But, to paraphrase he basically said he couldn’t lie any longer and then threw my past affairs in my face, by “answering the only two questions he ever asked me”– about four months and only once (but other things happened, too).

He was remorseful, regretful, thought I’d throw him out on his ass and said any money in our savings account was mine. He professed his love for me.

I was saying NO, NO, NO and shaking. You, who have been betrayed, must have had similar reactions? You can’t believe it’s happening. It’s hitting you in waves and you are just trying not to drown. You can’t breathe…right?

I called him. He didn’t answer. I called again. I left a voicemail and basically cursed him out and told him that he was a coward (which he admitted in his text) and that we had to speak face-to-face and to call me. I then texted him and asked him to call me, please.

I started to drive toward his office, thinking that is where he would go. It’s about a 30 minute drive from home. I called my sister en-route and told her what was going on. She asked what I wanted to do. I clearly remember a few soul-deep revelations at that moment: I had to see and speak with him eye to eye/face to face. I didn’t know if our marriage would survive but, all I knew was that I was driving TOWARD him, not away. I told her that. I was going with my “gut” and going TOWARD him. She wished me luck AND love.

Almost to his office, he called me. I asked him where he was and he said he was in the neighboring town, about 10 miles BACK the way I came. I did a U-turn (insert screechy tire sound) and we agreed to meet half way toward home.

I got there and waited just a few minutes and he pulled in. His body language was so negative – closed off – brooding. He walked over to my car and got in the passenger seat. He wouldn’t look at me. I made him, by asking him to face me. I asked him all the question a wife asks a dickhead of a husband (sorry, guys). I was very reserved, my anger didn’t exist. I was SCARED. I was scared of knowing more, of learning he didn’t love me and was leaving me. Leaving ME!?! I thought I was always the immoral spouse in our relationship and that I would have been the one to leave based on my past behavior all those years ago. But, instead, I was a naïve woman, who was betrayed by the one person who knew and experienced what adultery does to a marriage. BASTARD!

He was still angry at being caught, I think. Angry at me for my past and the pain I caused him, I think. He was humiliated that I was asking him questions, I think. I don’t know the answers to those questions because it was like pulling teeth. I kept pleading with my eyes…JUST TALK TO ME…LET ME IN!

I drilled him (nicely, as nicely as a dentist could…): Did he love her? NO. Did she love him? NO. It was just sex. She was married and happily (yeah, right…). It was convenient. It was completely over. Over before I discovered it. Weeks before our anniversary. He ended it because he knew they would be caught (good reason? WTF????). He wore a condom. Does he love me? YES.

He never said he was SORRY. Never apologized. Not with those words. Not literally. Tuck that fact away…

I was hesitant, meek and scared shitless. Yet, I was calm(ish). I remember a common coping mechanism I started to do that moment, and which would last until today…I looked down at my hands in my lap, and twirled my thumbs at the tips, just looking at my thumbnails. Thumb to thumb…making little figure eight movements. Heart was racing and I felt as though my stomach was pulled out through my feet. Like the feeling of being on a roller coaster, but without the fun factor!

I sat there, absorbing all the information with the realization that this man was not the man I thought he was. I knew how he felt. I knew that his actions were a result of our distant relationship. I knew how he felt. He was caught, humiliated and hurting. I felt the same way years ago.

Here’s the most mature moment of my life – get ready for it…I told him that I didn’t want him to leave and that I would work toward forgiveness because he gave me that gift 13+ years ago. I owed him that. I loved him. I wanted him. And then I grabbed his face in my hands and said with all seriousness and love, “You are MINE – MINE!” He was mine and I was his. He looked a bit shocked yet pleased, relieved, thankful and I think…slightly proud. I asked him, did he still want me? YES! Did he still love me? YES!

Ladies, please — I know what you are thinking. It’s okay. I get it. Trust me, the bitchy side of my psyche want to beat the shit out of him AND the EVIL BITCH. I really didn’t deserve this betrayal. We didn’t deserve this crisis. But, we were in the midst of it and now we had to either deal or walk. I chose to deal and win.

We didn’t hug, but we held hands and didn’t say anything more.

No “I’m sorries…” – yet.

We decided to get home and just tell both boys (who were texting both of us and left multiple voicemails because they were worried about us) that we needed to talk.

At home, we tried to act normal, but avoided each other. I was nervous for when we went to bed and were alone with him. How would I react and behave? How would he? I was testing him. Did he really want an excuse to leave our marriage? Did he really love me? Did they really end the affair?

Finally, we did go to bed (he asked if he should sleep on the couch and I said no, that I wanted life to look normal for now for the boys’ sakes).

I was determined to keep our marriage separate from the boys. They were part of the family, but not part of our marriage. Not knowing if our marriage would survive this infidelity, I just didn’t want to add the dynamics of our sons knowing that their father cheated on me and, if J would ever divulge, that I cheated on him long ago. Two wrongs don’t make a right. But one wrong really, really sucks…

He read a book on his Kindle. I got into bed and we didn’t touch. I read my iPad and the TV was on in the background. I think somehow I just broke down and cried quietly, I got up and blew my nose and returned to bed. He then hugged me and I cried more and more. No words, just him hugging me and me crying. Inside, I was wailing WHY, WHY, WHY?!? But, I couldn’t scream or make noise.

Eventually, we fell asleep. I guess I got up a few hours later when I woke, realized this was real and not a nightmare. THAT is an awful, awful realization. THIS IS YOUR LIFE moment. And then the grief begins…over the loss of something beautiful, innocent. It happens each morning since. I long for the day where I wake up and there is no moment of living the nightmare but living the dream, instead.

The house was quiet and I went downstairs with my iPad. I was numb, dead, destroyed, devastated, etc. I started to Google: my husband cheated on me.

I found a million websites and threads. None of them made me feel “better” but, in a way, I was part of a selected sisterhood. Honestly, that sorority should never exist. Wish it didn’t and wish I wasn’t a card-carrying member now. Delta Day Sorority? FFS…no thank you, but at the same time, it was comforting.

I finally went to bed and we spooned. I needed the comfort and warmth and I eventually fell asleep.

D Day Accomplished.

Fuck you, D Day!

You suck…