I spent months angry with you.
Hating you even.
Yes, I’ll admit it.
It’s not popular to say. Especially, in Christian circles.
But, it’s true.
What were you thinking?
How could you take a married man….a man you knew was married, in to your home and have sex with him?
Do you value marriage that little? Do you value it so little as to destroy one?
Do you value yourself that little? So little as to be “the other woman”, and not demand you be the only woman?
What kind of example are you to your teenage daughter? Is that what you want for her life? To be “the other woman”? Or what if she was the wife of a man doing this to her?
Did you ever think about what it might do to me, his wife?
Did you ever think about the two little children in the house down the street from your indiscretions?
Did you ever think about what you were doing to another family?
Did you think he would leave me for you? Is that what you wanted?
Or were you just looking for cheap sex?
Did you ever think about what it would do to him? Do you know he spent a year and a half contemplating suicide?
Maybe you thought I’d never know & it wouldn’t hurt anyone. I guess you realize now that I know. You probably realized that the day I screamed at you outside of a department store in May as I saw you walking in while I was driving past. I know you heard me. I could tell.
And as I drove away grumbling about you being a whore & a home wrecker I realized I could be saying those same things about my husband. Not just you.
And I cried.
My counselor said it’s natural. It’s safer to be angry with the other woman.
It’s been 6 months since I found out about your affair. In those 6 months I have:
- gone down to 96 lbs. I’m 5’4″. That’s too thin. Thank goodness I am on the road to regaining weight. I’m now up to 107.
- been put on antidepressants. Which I was allergic to. Fun times.
- missed work because I simply couldn’t stop crying long enough to go in.
- had to endure countless questions from my family.
- had to endure countless questions from my friends.
- had to endure countless questions from our children. This has been the toughest of all.
- gone to counseling.
- struggled. EVERY.SINGLE.DAY
- ridden the wave of emotions every day.
Now I am:
- learning to forgive. It is a process.
- starting to heal.
- trying to learn to trust…anyone…someone…including myself.
- finding peace.
- still grieving.
- still enduring countless questions. From family. From friends. From our children.
- still struggling.
- preparing our home, the only home our children have ever known, to be put up for sale. Because living in the same neighborhood with you is hard. Seeing you as often as I do causes painful triggers.
You took something from me. You took a lot from me really. But, the biggest thing you took was my security. I used to feel safe. Emotionally safe.
That wasn’t for you to take.
And now that it’s gone you can never give that back to me.
We had a great marriage.
You might think we didn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that.
But we did. We truly did. Just 2 months before that we had gone on a wonderful vacation together to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. Things were amazing. And I know you knew that.
But then, suddenly things changed.
I wondered why he would stop and stare at family pictures and pictures of he & I in the hallway.
I had no idea he had slept with you. I had no idea he was wondering how he got to that place.
What did you hope to gain from all this? A husband? Two step-children? Or a “friend with benefits”?
Was it worth it?
My heart is broken. But it is healing.
I don’t know if we will ever recover. But, we are trying.
And no matter what happens, my anger toward you has passed.
I still cringe when I see your Jeep or your car.
But, that cringing is my reminder to pray for you.
I pray you will be blessed in your life. I pray I can completely forgive you. I pray no one does this to you. Or to your daughter. Or your mother. I pray you find a love and friendship like I used to have with Hub. I pray that the brokenness inside you that caused you to do this would heal.
Blessings to you, Stacey.