Uhhhh. Ummmmm. Uhhhhh.
As my heart sinks for them. I’ve been getting a lot of emails lately. From people that find themselves in my same boat and most of them ask through tears, “What do I do?”
OMG DO I WISH I KNEW WHAT TO TELL ALL OF YOU!!! IT SUCKS! IT HURTS. IT FEELS IMPOSSIBLE. IT FEELS LIKE YOU CAN’T BREATHE AND LIKE YOU ARE GETTING TOO MUCH OXYGEN ALL AT THE SAME TIME! Your head hurts. Your heart is breaking. Your eyes can’t cry anymore one second and find a new well the next. I know. My suggestions seem stupid probably but talk. Write. Email me. Start a blog. Get those feelings out. It is such a lonely place to be. It’s hard to find sympathy when what you did was wrong. And none of you have to explain to me that you feel bad that it started that you had no idea it would take off or where it would end up going because I know that too. Yes, I used to be the judging woman that would look down on men, (or women), who had affairs.
That is until you squeeze your foot into that shoe. Somehow walking in that shoe that isn’t yours, it becomes proper fitting and kicks up a little heel to make you feel sexy. Damn shoes! My blog in the beginning was almost pathetic. I was so broken. Sad. Lonely. I had to be okay when I was around everyone and it was so hard to do. I’d go to the bathroom or bedroom and shut the door, and just sob. Shaking silently. Knowing the happiest I’d ever been had officially been cut off and thrown into the ocean. An ocean that had a wall keeping me from it. That wall being respect for his wife that I didn’t want to have and respect for myself and him. Nothing helped. I started googling things like, “healing from an affair”, “how to get over the other” anything I could think of. I found blogs and couldn’t believe how ‘similar’ they all seemed. I decided to blog then. OMGosh after each post I felt better. Still hurting but when I got my words out of my head it helped a little bit. Each post I felt like I could breathe just a tad more. Then I felt like I could read other blogs and start commenting. Those comments lead me to other readers who then followed my blog and one thing lead to another. Two years has gone by. Followers. Commenters. Friends. Same boat survivors. Other men. Other women. Husbands and wives that had been cheated on. Yeah some people didn’t like me and let me know it but they were so small in the pool of people who had been there, done that, and were healing from the same thing. I didn’t feel all alone all of the sudden. I can’t tell you how much help it is to have one person who gets it.
Then the craziest thing happened. People who had been cheated on started reading my blog and they would comment things like, “I don’t agree with your choices but your posts are helping me see that the other woman is human and why my husband may have done what he did.” Or, “I’m understanding more of how my wife may have felt when she decided to have an affair. I can see the things I did after reading your blog that may have made her feel unwanted or unloved.” Not that any reason makes an affair okay but I realized I was making people see I wasn’t a whore. Which trust me some people called me and still do. And you just have to remind yourself of your prior person that hadn’t worn that shoe yet.
One day the situation might show up where they are cramming their fat little feet in those shoes. :0) Yes I can say the mean people on my blog have fat feet. LMAO. No, all jokes aside it is not something you can heal from alone. I don’t care if you start a blog or comment on blogs. I don’t care if you don’t want to blog at all and just decide to email me. Just do something. Write. Get it out. Smart phones have journal apps that require pass words. I promise if you make an effort to write everyday if even two sentences, it slowly will get better and stop hurting so much. Trust me there are still hard days. Days that a song, smell, place or quote, (Your killin’ me smalls), will sting causing you to blink back the tears. But the sobbing behind bedroom doors will slowly become opening doors with great memories of someone you will never forget.
Keep in mind, “if the shoe fits” and you find out you are human, and have made a choice that you regret or will never regret, Make sure the shoes are cute because the shoe needs to be a learning experience, and most likely you will wear them longer than a week.
And one day, you should be able to slip them off and pass them on to one of the women that was so quick to judge you prior. Maybe you’ll give them away, maybe you’ll keep them on, or maybe like me you’ll put them on the shelf because getting rid of them would mean HE is a part of your past and you aren’t ready to admit that yet.