One of the main reasons I wanted to start a blog is because there are some unique facets to my betrayal story that I don’t hear much about. I wanted to provide a connection point for others dealing with some of the same details as me to let you know that you aren’t alone. Don’t get me wrong, the “sameness” of our stories makes us feel sane and gives us hope to journey on. When I hear a betrayed wife’s story, I feel like I am standing on holy ground to be privy to such a deep place in her heart. It imparts life to me. I hang on every word. I also savor podcasts where a pain-then-healing story is shared. (There can always be healing even if there can’t be a restored marriage.) I like to hear addicts’ stories too! My coach calls these “brokenness stories.” Each one is a miracle.

And each story is unique! Are there parts of your story that you long to have someone say “Me too!” but you haven’t found that person yet? Yeah, me too. So below I am sharing some of those things for me:

• We had a genuinely close relationship. Many elements of connection are hard to fake. The fact that my husband could prioritize dates and special events, could embrace me, gaze into my eyes and smile, give me a long kiss every day when he came home from work, and be a very close companion WHILE betraying me and keeping secrets is mind-boggling. But it’s true. We’ve always been very compatible, had lots of fun, and truly enjoyed each other’s company.

• My husband was the rule-follower in the home. He was (seemingly) committed to certain values and predictably so. He did a good job of leading our kids in this area. He was (publicly) careful about what he put in front of his eyes. He (publicly) kept his word. He has a very sensitive conscience. (I know it sounds crazy) He was often described as a “man of integrity.” It had been a joy for years to follow his example of pure speech, hard work, devotion to church, and many other good values. In hindsight, he was turning this off to act out, but I didn’t see it at all.

• My husband was a “good guy.” Sex addicts seem to either be “bad boys” who pop off in anger and explode OR overly compliant, over-controlled goody-two-shoes. I was married to the latter. It’s harder to heal the marriage when you’re married to a “good guy” because it’s harder to see the …change…. (such a mystical word… I feel strange typing it)

• This is a biggie that I hope resonates with some readers: Our faith camp was one that toted headship and submission, homeschooling, reformed theology, “biblical womanhood,” wives should be busy working at home, etc. You see, we were taught that we could “win our husbands over without a word”, and sister, I was rocking that silent service to the extreme. Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. I think I was very easy to deceive because hey, he always gets the last word. 😉

• We had already been through a healing process early in our marriage. (I refer to this now as “The Church Fix.” Another spoiler alert: it didn’t work.) While it didn’t involve sexual acting out per se, it did involve sinful thoughts, words, comparisons, and attitudes toward me of a sexual nature. As a part of healing this and moving forward – a process that took a few years – we had a lot of confession of sexual sin (committed before marriage), therapy, lots of pastoral counsel, and many new practices that were fruitful. This gave way to some of the best years of our lives. Even up to D-day, I was still living in the healing of that experience, and my husband was still committed to many of the practices we learned back then (14+ years prior). So where we are today is a second-go, of sorts, to “a new start.” Yeah, I might be a little skeptical this time….

• Mother Enmeshment – While I am not at the point of making too much sense of this part of our story yet, I do know that very few therapists talk about it – and even fewer wives who have lived and survived it. I think it’s important and needs to be talked about. So stay tuned.

• One of the most painful parts of our story is when, 17 months into recovery, my husband told me he struggled to find me attractive and he wasn’t sexually attracted to me for several years of our marriage. To say this ripped my heart out and put it through a meat grinder is an understatement. My heart suffered a knock-out blow that day that I still haven’t recovered from. He has since told me many times those words weren’t true. I don’t know if they’re spoken from trauma or because they actually are true… But if your husband’s words have wounded you to the core of your very acceptability, then my friend, you are not alone.

• Mental Health – it seems my husband’s story will require a deeper healing than a lot of addicts. He has been diagnosed with a personality disorder. He doesn’t have knowledge of abuse. But we both can see that sanity, power to transform, and clarity of mind have been somewhat slower in coming for him than for many of the addicts we know. (While it’s worth mentioning that sobriety has been pretty easy for him.) Certainly not the norm. But true for us.

• My husband failed his first polygraph. This isn’t necessarily painful for me, but it’s not something I hear shared often. However, if this is true for you as well, you’re not alone. Leave a comment if you’d like me to blog more about it.

• My husband confessed and turned himself in. I had no clue what he had been up to for several years in the sexual arena. We actually had a very good sex life, were very physically affectionate and close. I was blind-sided. During addiction, nothing changed from my perspective. Did this comfort me? Well, not after he failed the polygraph… (Just like all betrayal stories, we’ve had our share of half-truths, denial, and trickle truth)

• My husband’s acting out behaviors were very mild in that it wasn’t dangerous or extreme. He was able to contain his acting out to a small petri dish of behaviors that progressed in severity at a very slow rate. Our therapist tells us often this is RARE. Nonetheless, it was still being sexual outside of marriage, lying, hiding, addictive, frequent, and obsessive.

• My husband had a sexual addiction as a single person – although we didn’t know to call it that. He had been sober for over 12 years when he returned to edging behaviors many years into our marriage. We had good boundaries in place around sexual purity that he created and maintained. He slowly started abandoning those in a move toward secrecy.

• One of the early catalytic events that occured on my husband’s journey back into addiction was E.D. And while I won’t spend too much time on it here, if you or your spouse starts doing uncharacteristic, secretive things because of experiencing E.D., you are not alone. However, you’re on thin ice if this makes you withdraw from your spouse.

• We talk A LOT – even now in recovery. It’s hard to understand how or why my husband could have so many heart-to-heart chats without sharing critical information that he was being sexual outside of marriage or his internal craziness and distress. I have learned people can say a lot and never truly share their heart.

My husband says he knows there are other “good guys” out there bound in addiction and suffering, too afraid to out themselves. Maybe this will encourage you to get addiction treatment. Freedom, transparency, peace and sanity are your birthright as a son of God. Reach out – God will meet you in surprising ways.

It’s been difficult for me to make sense out of our particular combination of realities. Maybe you feel the same way about your story, whatever details you’re dealing with.

I was in a large facebook group for betrayed wives where I shared some of these unique aspects listed above. It seemed none of the 1,100 women had a story like me. I felt confused and hopeless until I received a message from a wife who said “That’s my story too. I know we’re strangers, but can we talk?” This friend has encouraged my heart over the past year more than she will ever know. Because you see, when you find yourself in a very confusing place all alone, if you learn that others have been there too and survived, somehow you can keep walking through the pain. I told this friend that I wanted to write about our peculiarities. She said I should. Her connecting in empathy and encouraging words have buoyed me blogging.

I am honored that all our stories intertwine here, even if for a moment. By you stopping here to read, we’re both not alone.