Is the glass half empty or half full? Six months after Dday
Betrayed spouses are a species of their own kind. You cannot understand the pain and the fragility caused by infidelity until you see the slab over which you built your life cracking as the Earth trembles underneath.
I had experienced first hand my mother's reaction to infidelity. I was there on D-Day and went to counselling as a daughter of this imperfect couple of parents I had. I took decisions regarding what I would not do if I was ever betrayed by my spouse. I grew and became a more informed person, with more diverse tools to face the challenges that would lie ahead in my life.
And then, one day, I discovered that my husband, the one that I found using the tools I acquired during counselling in my late teens, cheated on me. The signs were very different from those my own mother saw when it was her turn. I just had my gut feeling to ring the alarm every second of every day for many months until I decided to investigate.
My husband's reaction to the revelation of the affair was also very different from my own father's. My unfaithful spouse decided to "fight for our marriage" and he has been doing that for six months now. We have been through a very intense period of feeling, thinking and taking action to heal. We have stayed connected more than we had been during the years prior to the affair.
I have enjoyed having my husband back at home, both physically and psychically as long as I see the glass half full. He soothes my pain when the wounds are reopened by triggers. He insists on "us" when all I want is to give up. He acknowledges his responsibility for the way I feel and then, he is his limited self again.
When I judge him through a new lens, one with higher standards to compensate the betrayal, I start to see the glass half empty. I might spiral down into the depths of depression, anger or resentment for days. And I project onto him. "Why are you so demanding?", I ask. "Because we can do better, we can be happy, we deserve to be happy". He is a manipulative man like my father was. I demand from him to see the glass half full, to appreciate that I am working on forgiveness and that we are creating new memories. But no one can give what they never experienced from their parents. This is the sad truth.
I consciously decided to accept his limitations and stop seeing the empty half of the glass. I will focus on the lower half, the one that is full and enjoy every day as it comes.
I had experienced first hand my mother's reaction to infidelity. I was there on D-Day and went to counselling as a daughter of this imperfect couple of parents I had. I took decisions regarding what I would not do if I was ever betrayed by my spouse. I grew and became a more informed person, with more diverse tools to face the challenges that would lie ahead in my life.
And then, one day, I discovered that my husband, the one that I found using the tools I acquired during counselling in my late teens, cheated on me. The signs were very different from those my own mother saw when it was her turn. I just had my gut feeling to ring the alarm every second of every day for many months until I decided to investigate.
My husband's reaction to the revelation of the affair was also very different from my own father's. My unfaithful spouse decided to "fight for our marriage" and he has been doing that for six months now. We have been through a very intense period of feeling, thinking and taking action to heal. We have stayed connected more than we had been during the years prior to the affair.
I have enjoyed having my husband back at home, both physically and psychically as long as I see the glass half full. He soothes my pain when the wounds are reopened by triggers. He insists on "us" when all I want is to give up. He acknowledges his responsibility for the way I feel and then, he is his limited self again.
When I judge him through a new lens, one with higher standards to compensate the betrayal, I start to see the glass half empty. I might spiral down into the depths of depression, anger or resentment for days. And I project onto him. "Why are you so demanding?", I ask. "Because we can do better, we can be happy, we deserve to be happy". He is a manipulative man like my father was. I demand from him to see the glass half full, to appreciate that I am working on forgiveness and that we are creating new memories. But no one can give what they never experienced from their parents. This is the sad truth.
I consciously decided to accept his limitations and stop seeing the empty half of the glass. I will focus on the lower half, the one that is full and enjoy every day as it comes.
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