So here it is, another post about another traumatic event in my life. Let me preface this with I know there are significantly more traumatic events people endure. And on the scale of trauma, this falls on the “not-so-bad” side of the scale.
But, it did effect me physically, emotionally, and psychologically. For some reason, writing about it feels cathartic and medicinal.
About 6 months ago, on July 6th, the same date just one year prior my oldest was admitted to the hospital, I discovered my boyfriend of four years had reached out to several women online with intentions of sexually engaging with them. How did I discover this? I had an increasingly nagging feeling that our relationship was falling apart… and there was something I wasn’t being told. I can’t explain this any other way, other than it was my intuition. I did not know his passcode to his phone, but upon my first try, I got in. To say I was shaking, is an understatement. My body trembled with unease, with guilt of looking at his phone without his knowledge. But I do not regret what I did.
It was then that I saw the proof, the app messages exchanged, of what my gut had known all along. I lost my mind – I say this not just figuratively. I felt like I just wanted, needed, to bang my head against a wall again and again.
He walked out of the bathroom after taking a shower to find me in distress. Asking what was wrong, I asked him to open his phone and directed him to open the app. At first he denied his actions, but quickly realized denial was not an option when the facts were blatant. There was no apology, no visual appearance of remorse, just an anger. My son woke up to my screaming. He picked me up and hugged me, calmly taking me to his room. As my boyfriend collected all of his belongings and left for what I expected to be forever, I broke down. I knew I did not deserve any of what happened, I felt stupid and deceived and weak.
I couldn’t eat or drink. My body rejected its basic needs, including sleep. My friends rallied and individually showed up to support me, showing me I was not alone. And my oldest son stepped up to a plate that should never have been served. But it did build our relationship, made it stronger, more connected. For this, I am grateful.
My boyfriend reached out to me the following day, expressing regret and love for me. A message I was not expecting to receive. I had so much anger, my words were like knives that I knowingly used to carve wounds I wanted him to feel. And while these past six months have had so many discussions, an array of emotions ranging from guilt to sadness to happiness to contentment, and reflections. One reflection has been on myself, my intuition. My all knowing part of me. And that part of me I know will be my constant, my protector, my helper, and my healer.
You might be surprised, shocked, maybe even disgusted to hear, my boyfriend and I are working on our relationship. We have been participating in couples counseling for several months, he has been in weekly therapy, and I continue to meet with my own counselor. My boyfriend has adopted healthier habits such as roller skating, dodgeball, and reading books for self-improvement. We have had more meaningful and open conversations. While we talk every day, we see each other two, sometimes three times a week, while before all this happened we more or less lived with each other. I admit, I don’t know where this will ultimately lead for us, but I do know we have both grown.
Life isn’t easy, it can be hard. Taking it one day, one moment, at a time can help. It can feel overwhelming and even excruciating at times. But that pain is what strengthens us in the end.
My Degrees of Separation 