Eight Years Ago Today

Eight years ago today I climbed in my minivan with my daughter, my niece, and my three dogs and 2 cats and began the drive from Utah to Virginia. It was supposed to be the beginning of a new life. In a way, I guess it was. Just not the way I had originally thought.

The trip would take 3 days. We would stop the first night in Grand Island, Nebraska. It was a good 12 hours into our trip. Maybe more. We would make it to South Bend the second day so I could drop off my niece. Plus, I wouldn’t have to pay for a hotel room because I would stay at my mom’s house. The third day Rock Star, the dogs, and the cats, and I would finish up the trip- a mere 8 hours.

If you remember anything about foreshadowing from your days of high school English then you should know I should have realized this move was going to be a disaster. The engine in my car was overheating, or doing some other funny thing. I took it into a dealership the following morning before our trip began. They couldn’t get the part in that day but were willing to try to rig something up for me so I could make it “home”. Looking back I remember thinking I absolutely HAD to be there for when the movers came. In hindsight I should have waited for the damn part and just hung out in Indiana. But no! I was so worried about poor Jerry Lee, and how he would deal with the movers all by his little self. So I got in the car and preceded to listen to the damn door chime for the next 8-10 hours. I had asked them to pull the fuse at the dealership and they looked at me like I had grown a second head. Jerry Lee helpfully sent me a diagram but I’m no mechanic. The fuse remained and I got to listen to the door chime all the way to Virginia. But wait! There’s more!

The trip to Harrisonburg from South Bend is mainly toll roads so why I had my GPS on from the beginning I don’t know. I had bought a new charger for my car. I’m not sure what exactly happened. Maybe the charger wasn’t pushed in all the way, but about 2 hours before we hit our destination my phone died and my brand new charger wasn’t working. My GPS was my only source of directions. I had been to my new house twice and both of those times had occurred over a month prior to this visit. I wasn’t sure I could find Jerry Lee’s hotel. I was panicking. With some quick thinking we managed to contact a friend back in Utah who placed a call to Jerry Lee. I think we were able to get directions off of Rock Star’s iPad. She wrote them down so we would have them if her iPad died. She told me later she feared I was going to drive off the mountain.

I don’t recall being that upset but between leaving hours later than we planned, the dinging that went on for approximately 10 hours, the fact my engine light was once again coming on, and having no fucking clue where I was going, I might have been a little stressed.

That trip was my harbinger of doom. I ignored it. Just like I ignored all of Harley’s pictures on her Facebook and the fact she had taken her wedding picture down. Just like I ignored the supposed name snafu where Jerry Lee was going to register the deed to our new house in his name only because one of our names had a typo in it. I still remember telling him, “You better make sure this is what you want because once I make this move you’re stuck with me.” I was telling him he had one last chance to pull the plug on our marriage and go chase down the gold digging whore. Go get her if that’s what you want, but if that’s the case then don’t drag me and the kids away to Virginia away from all of our friends and the lives that we love. You know the story. Liars lie. Turns out he wasn’t stuck with me. He just up and quit his job and moved out of the state he drug us to.

A year after moving in I found out Jerry Lee and Harley were back at it. If they had ever stopped. Two years after moving in I sold off all the furniture I could, had a giant yard sale, and left everything else behind when the kids and I moved to Indiana and in with my mom. Both of the cats that made the trip with us died while we were in Virginia and I only have one of those dogs today. My kids have grown up, too.

Eight years. A lot has changed. Looking back at those pictures and those of the days leading up to the move, I had no idea what was in store for me or my kids.

Thanks for the reminder, Facebook.

The Biggest Lie Of All

Between the other board I read and a recent blog post I read on WordPress I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the population is fairly stupid and naive when it comes to infidelity.

I was reading not that long ago a post from a woman who made the edgy, “unpopular” proclamation that infidelity was not a deal breaker in her marriage. Both she and her husband agreed it was no reason to divorce (you have to put that “one mistake” up against the entire relationship, dontchaknow?); furthermore, they both agreed they would never confess if they did cheat because confessing was for the cheater and only burdened the betrayed spouse.

Oh, there was plenty of talk about how she wouldn’t be surprised if he had already cheated because the statistics say everyone does it, or at least the majority of people do it. Plus, they’ve been together for more than thirty years so why would she throw that away for one little indiscretion?

On the other board one of the women who had in fact been cheated on (repeatedly) by her current husband made the comment that she realized her husband was a “flawed human being seeking to have basic physical needs met.” That didn’t mean he didn’t love her. He absolutely did. This same person insists that there is an entire cultural attitude that applauds those who kick out the cheater and berate or shame those that try to work it out.

There were a few women who talked about how much work goes into restoring a relationship after it’s been rocked by infidelity. There were many kudos given for those who do the “hard work” of rebuilding trust and working through it.

I was especially shocked by the stance of one poster that I admire. Her husband had cheated on her, purposely got the AP pregnant, and eventually moved in with her. He also had no intentions of ever filing for divorce. In his world he was perfectly content to remain married while shacking up with his AP and love child.. She said this about her own daughters facing infidelity in their marriage: I would want my daughters to think deeply before they get a divorce. There are worse things than a “moment of indiscretion.” If my daughter was convinced that the husband was truly sorry and truly loved her, I could understand why she would give her husband a second chance.

I shake my head as I read all of this. There are several problems with these lines of thinking.

The biggest lie is that affairs are just about sex. No, affairs are about lies and deception. You don’t make a mistake when you cheat on your partner. You make a series of mistakes, generally dozens, when you cheat on your partner. There is the choice to chat up a co-worker or friend. The choice to continue on with all of that when you know you are playing with fire. There are the lies to cover your tracks. There are the lies to explain your absences. Then there is the sexual act itself. That’s followed by all the lies and deception used to cover up what you just did. Followed by more lies so you can do it again.

I would love to ask the writer of the blog who declared infidelity not a deal breaker in her marriage if losing a baby due her spouse’s infidelity might be a deal breaker. How about if you were diagnosed with an incurable STD? There are several readers over on Chump Lady who’ve actually been given HPV which has led to cancer. Would that be a deal breaker or is that another thing you would need to put up against your thirty wonderful years together? How about if you found out your husband and his mistress were slowly poisoning you? Is that a deal breaker or are you still going to try to work things out? What about if you found out your spouse was draining marital accounts to fund the affair? What if they “loaned” money to the affair partner? What if your spouse bought phones for, and then allowed you to get online and pay the cell phone bill for your “in-laws”, only you find out two months later you’ve been paying the cell phone bill for his mistress and her daughter? Are we still overlooking all of this because, you know, it’s just sex? Is the long history together still winning out over all this douche-y behavior?

Unfortunately, many times it’s not a simple matter of some horny person out there fucking whatever moves. Many, many times, if not most of the time, affairs involve financial deception as well. “I’m sending my mom money for groceries! I’ve got a ‘business trip’ next weekend. I’m ‘investing’ in a friend’s company.” They involve gas lighting and mind fucking. “I’m not having an affair. You’re crazy! When you don’t trust me it leads me to want to actually do what you’re accusing me of! I would never cheat on you! You and the kids mean everything to me. I swear on our children’s lives I’m not cheating. Maybe you’re the cheater and you’re projecting on to me.”

Go read the comments sometime on Chump Lady. You will find person after person who has been left financially destitute after being cheated on and left. Accounts drained (hello!). Houses foreclosed on (hello!). Support withheld (hi again!). Businesses devalued. Money given to or spent on the AP. Signatures forged. Credit card debt run up. Money hidden. It’s not just sex. It is a far reaching plan to deceive and destroy another person.

As for this idea that a cheater is simply a “flawed human being seeking to have physical needs met”, well, I sure hope that both the cheater and the affair partner are on the same page in regards to what’s happening here. I’ve heard a few stories where the AP thinks this is the romance of the century and when they find out that’s not the case… they turn into a bunny boiler. Seems such a shame to ruin this beautiful “physical needs being taken care of” romance with stalking and hysteria and threatening phone calls to the spouse.

I also hope a pregnancy does not occur because these physical needs were taken care of outside of the marriage. That would be a little awkward, huh? According to ID TV that’s usually when the cheater kills the AP. Of course, if the cheater is a woman and she’s the one who gets pregnant… again, might be a little awkward, but totally not out of the realm of possibility that she might try to pass it off as her husband’s child. Nothing like a paternity test to spice up a marriage! But hey, it’s just sex, right?

I hope that poster is right and she doesn’t find her husband leaving her for someone else a few years down the road. It’s not that unusual for men to trade in their spouse when she gets into her 40s or 50s. Gray divorce is a huge topic these days. Why keep the middle aged wife with her stretch marks and muffin top when he’s got a hot, toned, child free twenty something offering him blow jobs and fun times? My jaded philosophy is something along these lines: Even if it’s not a hot, younger woman, if your husband fucks around on you often enough eventually he’s going to find a replacement for you.

As for this idea that there is a cultural trend to shame those that remain with their husbands I have to say, “Oh please!” Aside from Chump Lady’s blog I can’t think of another blog that encourages leaving the cheater. There is, in fact, an entire industry devoted to helping you “affair-proof” your marriage, teaching you all about the 180, promising you that the affair will be “the best thing to ever happen to your marriage”, and otherwise encouraging you to work through the infidelity and to reconcile. They sell programs and constantly promise to tell you how to win back a wandering spouse. And as always, they promise that your marriage will be “better and stronger than before!”

Look at all the kudos for the people who choose to stay and work through the infidelity. They are “applauded”. They are lifted up in praise because they did the “hard work” it took to work through all of that. People are cautioned to “think carefully” before divorcing a cheating spouse because surely there are worse things than a “momentary lapse in judgement”.

Meanwhile, those who do divorce are judged as being unforgiving. They lack compassion and think they are superior. We foolishly base our decision on one small, insignificant mistake instead of thinking rationally and taking into account the entire relationship.

If we’re not judged as being unforgiving and lacking compassion then we’re judged as being moral failures. Hell, there was a blogger that thought there should be a divorce tax and who advocated shunning those who divorce! Obviously we didn’t value marriage; we’re tossing aside our solemn vows because we’re not “happy.”

We’re accused of taking the “easy way out”. <Snort> Please. Like working entry level jobs, moving in with your mom, losing your home and everything in it, being forced to move out of the state, and sleeping on the couch is so much easier than remaining a stay at a home mom who lives on over $200,000 a year, lives in a nice big house she calls her own, complete with a pool and a hot tub, and has all the time in the world to visit friends and go on vacation. Oh hell yes. Getting up at 3:30 in the morning and working at Target before dropping off my kid at school and then going to my regular full-time job was so much easier than getting up at 7:00, making my kids breakfast, dropping them off at school, and then spending the rest of the day doing whatever I wanted.

Not to mention that some of us didn’t get the “opportunity” to do the so-called hard work of rebuilding our marriage. Some of us got dumped. Some of us were blindsided. For some of us our husbands or wives had our replacements lined up long before we knew we were headed for divorce.

It didn’t take a genius to see the writing on the wall. I did give some thought to approaching CF with “an arrangement.” He could have his cousin on the side, but we would stay together until both kids had graduated from high school. He would not be allowed to financially support her; the kids and I would be the beneficiaries of his paycheck and bonus. However, it became quickly apparent that such an arrangement had less than a snowball’s chance in hell of working. He was lying. He was giving her huge sums of money already. They had a bank account together. He was interviewing for jobs out of state. I was certain he was not planning on taking me and the kids with him. It was going to be a solo move. So I bit the bullet. I lawyered up. I protected myself. I filed for divorce.

Here is another very important part to consider. Most of the people over on Chump Lady have tried reconciliation. I don’t have statistics but my guess, from what I’ve read over the years and through various sources, is that the majority of people who find out their spouse is cheating on them, try to reconcile. I truly believe very few people follow through with kicking the cheater to the curb without a second thought. I think most of us at least try. There may be some who try and decide they can’t get over this, but they do at least try to make it work. This is where that important part comes in.

I’ve read way too many stories over there about people who opted to forgive and rebuild trust, who chose reconciliation, who decided it was worth it to do the hard work and not let one little mistake define their entire relationship, who forgave the cheater and welcomed them back home, only to have the cheater do it all over again years later. In some cases it was years between affairs, and in other cases the cheater took it deeper underground and lived a double life for ten to twenty years before cruelly discarding their spouse. I can’t think of a single one of them who says, “I have no regrets; I cherish every single extra year I got with my cheating spouse. Though the marriage may be dead I will comfort myself with the many wonderful memories we created.” No, what they all say, almost without fail, is that they wish they had left the first time and that they regret wasting all of those years with that person. There are a few who say they are glad they tried marriage counseling, they’re glad they tried to fix it, because they know they did everything they possibly could to make it work so they leave with a clean conscience. But I can’t think of anyone who says they are glad for the extra years with their cheater. There is only regret for wasting a single minute more on that person who chose to turn around and betray them again.

 

What Was the Biggest Lie?

Chump Lady likes to do fun Friday challenges. She asks her readers a question and they respond. Friday’s question was: What was the biggest whopper of a lie you believed while married to the cheater? As of Sunday evening the comments were up to over 500; needless to say I didn’t toss my hat into that ring. Instead I will share here some of the biggest lies I believed. Also, it goes without saying that the biggest caveat to all of this was you couldn’t use the obvious: I love you! Or, that whole vowing to love you and be faithful to you thing. Yes, way too obvious of a lie.

Realistically, I have no idea how many lies he did actually tell me. Who knows what was fact and what was fiction? I suppose we could start with the basic lies that I don’t think are whoppers, but are lies that I bought without a second thought. Remember, CF was painted as a painfully shy individual who liked to read encyclopedias on the weekend instead of going out and partying. He was portrayed as an honorable man who would never cheat. My goodness, no! He was simply too honest, had too much loyalty; family was everything to him. If he only had a wife who would have dinner for him every night he would give her whatever she wanted. We all know how that played out.

First up would be the lie about the email he had sent way back in the beginning of our marriage, asking for more naked pictures of some supposed random strange woman. I do want to point out that I was pissed off about this. I didn’t wave it off by telling myself it was no big deal and something a lot of men did. I was genuinely angry and we had a fight about this. Nonetheless, I believed what he told me. Furthermore, I have no proof he lied about it, but with what I know now, I fully believe it was a lie.

I also believe he lied about seeing her when he went to Kentucky for his sister’s wedding. He is not in any of the pictures from that day. He insisted it was because his sister sent him on an alcohol run which caused him to almost miss the big day. I think he either snuck off to go see her or she came with him to the wedding and that’s why he was never photographed.

Then we have the lie about not knowing why on earth Harley blocked me on Facebook after the wedding. You may recall that he came home to a spotless house and pictures of Harley posted up in several different places, including as my computer wallpaper. He, of course, had no idea why she would do that, and that was between me and her.

I think that was the beginning of me believing lies in order to preserve my family. My sweet friend J told me the day I revealed to her that I had been blocked on her Facebook account that I needed to talk to a lawyer and I needed to protect myself. I didn’t listen. I wanted to believe him. I wanted so much to remain married and maintain my life. Accepting that my husband was texting with the ho-bag cousin would have put a dent in that fantasy.

I still remember telling him we had an appointment with a marriage counselor and him refusing to go. I remember then confronting him about Harley and all the lies that slipped between his lips when he was defending himself.

“Are you still in contact with her?”

“No!”

“She blocked me.”

“I don’t know anything about that. That’s between the two of you.”

Hmmmm…. it couldn’t be because you told her about the pictures you came home to, could it?

I remember him telling me that I knew he hadn’t been happy in years, that we were nothing more than roommates. I remember telling him I wasn’t going to give up on us and that I thought we could be better than ever. I also remember him telling me that it would be “too weird” for that to happen, and him warning me that if I didn’t go back to me doing my own thing while letting him do his own thing that he didn’t know what was going to happen.

Yes, I ate the shit sundae. I smiled as that slimy cherry slid down my throat. I ate it all so that I could hopefully repair what I now know was my useless marriage. I just needed to make him love me again. He would see that it was possible. I would wear make-up all the time. I would dress better. I would keep the house clean. I would cook more. Life with me was going to be splendid.

That’s still not the biggest lie I believed. There were all sorts of smaller lies along the way to the whopper(s). Like, when he told me the paperwork was messed up so it would be easier if he just left my name off the deed to the new house, and we could get it put on at a later date. I did stave that one off by throwing a huge fit, not that it ended up mattering. The house ended up foreclosed on thanks to him. Hell, I think the whole setup to move to Virginia was a hybrid lie.

He started talking about wanting that particular plant shortly after his first affair with Harley began. He admitted a few months later, after being busted, that the plan had been to move closer to her. Oh, he dressed it up as moving closer to family, but we all know what he meant.

I don’t know, and I do not care, if the affair was going on the entire time, but I certainly feel like he set me up to move away from our life in Utah where the kids were happy and settled, and to move to Virginia to be closer to the whore. It was all a huge con. He felt so isolated out there in Utah. He wanted to be closer to family. Oh, it got even better because the whole need to be closer to family was for our kids. It was so important that they be around family and we couldn’t offer them that out in Utah. That was a pretty big lie- it had nothing to do with our kids and everything to do with him and what he wanted- but it wasn’t the whopper.

I think the whole reconciliation bit was probably a big fat lie, too, to get me to go where he wanted to go. Perhaps he was smart enough to realize I would never agree to move if we were in a state of chaos. Still not the whopper.

There was the lie I still don’t know why he told. In the beginning he said he had texted other women, plural. After I found the Facebook message to his nephew, telling him he was going to marry Harley one day, I sorrowfully said to him, “It was never women, was it? It was always only her.” He agreed that it had only been her, and that he was trying to protect her, to make it not seem so serious. I later found Anne so I know that women, plural, was correct. Unless, of course, he hooked up with her after Harley.

There were the lies told in reconciliation- stupid little timeline things. Who said I love you first? I don’t know. Did you tell her you loved her before you went out for your sister’s wedding? I don’t think so. Busted! See above regarding the FB message to his nephew. That happened before his sister’s wedding.

There was the lie that she had never meant anything to him, that she was a substitute for me. There was the lie that he knew he loved me when I confronted him in June, wanting him to go to marriage counseling. Really? Then why did you continue carrying on? <crickets> There was the lie that it was a midlife crisis, she was the worst mistake of his life, and he should have bought a motorcycle.

All those earlier lies? I think I could believe them not only because I wanted to believe that I wasn’t headed for divorce, but because I didn’t realize how incredibly devious he was. Even after his first affair with her was exposed I never pegged him as this much of a liar. I spent the first few weeks after he told me he had been “texting” other women believing that maybe what he meant was that he had been merely talking to other women, that he was such an upstanding, loyal, honest man that he would never cheat on me. He felt overwhelming guilt because he was confiding in others and he didn’t think that was right. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he was so incredibly devious as it was that I was incredibly naive. I bought them all. I explained them all away.

I even bought the lie about Anne. I immediately confronted him about her and his explanation sounded reasonable. This was a man who loved me after all. We were better than ever. We had gotten to the root of all of our marital problems and we had worked them out. I was texting. I was sending racy photos. I was putting out. I’m sure I was keeping up with the laundry and cleaning the house as well. I put the kids in second place so I could concentrate on him. He wouldn’t lie to me!

So when he explained that he had met her on Linked In, thinking she was a vendor, that seemed reasonable enough. He realized she wasn’t a vendor but he offered her help with her professional life. How sweet of him! Isn’t he just the best? Story twist! She turned psycho! She started stalking him. Better just delete her messages and forget all about her, Sam. She’s nuts.

I believed him. It never occurred to me that he could lie as easily as he could breathe. I thought that there was no way he could come up with all of that in a split second. In reality, he hadn’t. She had already forewarned him that she was going to contact me so he already concocted a cover story. Plus, we had reconciled. Why would he do this all over again?

No, I think the biggest lie was the chain of lies that happened when he started cheating with her again, all culminating in his claim that he suffered from PTSD.

Part 1 of the whopper lie I swallowed was the one I actually helped him create. When American Sniper came out I casually asked if maybe this was his real problem. No, his real problem was he had found my alternate Facebook page, thanks to Blockhead, and he felt he was losing control. But here was the easy out for him. PTSD! Excellent! That would be his excuse.

He was probably plotting his exit right then and there, along with help from Blockhead and Jezebel. I can claim PTSD! I’ll say I can’t function. I find it almost impossible to drive the 15 minutes to work. I can’t be out in public. I’ll cry and carry on constantly and then accuse her of not caring when she doesn’t live up to my unreasonable expectations. I’ll start to drink so that if the PTSD shit doesn’t pan out I’ve got yet another excuse. In short, I’ll be an absolute mess and fall apart. Maybe she’ll leave me. If she doesn’t I’ll have plenty of evidence to convince a judge I shouldn’t have to pay child support or alimony at the rate I would have to normally.

All in all it was simply a huge mindfuck. He could play the poor pitiful victim and I got to feel horrible and overwhelmed that all of this was happening. I felt guilty because I wasn’t more sympathetic. I felt guilty because I was angry over everything that was happening. He had moved us from our happy home to this place I had not yet adjusted to because he swore up and down that this move was what was going to make him happy. And now here he was falling apart. I danced harder and faster, trying to make things better for him. I put healing from his first affair into overdrive once I realized he knew about my Facebook page, and I again, felt guilty that I had caused him any pain. While he was busy dodging responsibility for everything I was taking responsibility for everything. It was my fault he went to the psych ward. It was my fault he was so sad. Dance, Sam, dance! Make those appointments. Go sit in that bedroom with him. Take him to the ER. Stand by his side. Make everything better for him! Bastard!

He was going to visit his mom in the hospital in May. As far as I can tell, at least from his court testimony (and let’s face it- he could have perjured himself on the witness stand), their little affair began again sometime in April or May. Wow- just like last time! He was wildly adamant that he not take a child along with him. He didn’t want them seeing him break down apparently if he got stressed out about the driving. But alas, he ended up not being able to make the drive. He called me but thanks to our phone service he couldn’t get through. He then sent me pictures of his tear stained face right before he turned around and headed back home.

I went out that night and switched our phone carrier so that I would never miss another important call like that from him. I signed a two year contract, only to find out a little over three months later that he was fucking his cousin.

In hindsight what I think really happened is that he lost his nerve for whatever reason. I don’t know why and I don’t care to explore the reasons. It’s not important to me.

But that does lead me to what I consider, if not the biggest whopper of a lie, certainly the most humiliating lie. In July shortly after the kids and I got back from Indiana and Utah we were going to leave again to go to Florida for a week. He had gone with us the year before and was supposed to go with us again. Wouldn’t you know though that he had to go on a business trip that weekend? Instead of going on vacation with us as a family he instead drove to Tennessee for a “business trip”. That wasn’t the best part.

He was so anxiety ridden about this drive. What if he couldn’t make it? What if he lost his nerve? Oh never fear! Your trusty therapist and I will coach you so that you get over your fear and anxiety and can make the drive. Yep, like I said- maybe not the biggest lie but certainly one of the most humiliating. To think that I sat there in that office telling him what a wonderful man he was, how he could do anything, how he needed to believe in himself… all the while he’s laughing his ass off at pathetic ol’ me and his stupid therapist.

Even before that I got the story of how he was sending his mom money to help with groceries because his niece and her boyfriend came down for dinner every night. They were so broke and so young with a baby already here and one on the way. What could he do? So don’t be alarmed if you see those wire transfers. That’s just me being a dutiful son. And by the way, that $500 wire I sent was so that they could fix the van so they could trade it in for their new ride. If it didn’t run they couldn’t trade it in so again, what could I do?

I did pause a moment about that one. It must have been in early July when he told me this because I had just been to his parents’ house and ridden in the new van. She never mentioned him sending them money to fix the old van in order to trade it in. Not completely out of the realm of possibility, I suppose, but I did find it curious. I wonder what would have happened if I had mentioned that to her in a phone call. Hey, why didn’t you tell me CF had sent you $500?

On the heels of coaching my lying, cheating husband so that he could meet up with his whore cousin, he had to dig the knife just a little bit deeper. His “business trip” lasted an extra day, and then because he was so close to his mom’s house he was going to go see her that weekend. It would be a shame if he was that close and didn’t visit. Was that okay?

Naturally I was understanding. “It’s your mom! Of course it’s okay.” But looking back on it he was no closer to his mom’s house there than he was when he was in Virginia. And while he may have seen his mom, especially at the impromptu family reunion, he spent the weekend at the whore’s house, fucking her.

There was the $172 charge at Walmart in Whore Town before he was supposed to be visiting with his mom. I asked him if he was already there and he insisted he was not. He was still in Tennessee. When asked why there was a charge in Whore Town he conveniently explained it away by telling me he had given his card to his mom so she could buy a new tire. For the new van. And she had made that purchase in not-Whore Town so he didn’t know why it was showing Whore Town. I later found out he had bought the whore a lawn mower. $172 tire, my ass!

After his self-affirming trip which proved he could drive and be out in public he passed along a few other tasty tidbits- he was going to go to Blockhead’s one weekend. It was only fair because the last time Blockhead had driven all the way to Virginia so next time it was his turn. And the two of them were going to go to their West Point class reunion. No wives, of course. Just them. Lies. “Visiting Blockhead” was code for spending the weekend fucking the whore, and I have no doubt he took Harley with him to his reunion.

There was the funeral for the cousin he hadn’t laid eyes on in years but it was extremely important that he go. And no, he would not bring either of the kids, despite Rock Star wanting to go so she could see her granny. A funeral is no place for kids! Apparently, it is the place to debut your whore and let everyone know you’re cheating on your wife.

Oh, how could I forget all the lies about the damn funeral itself? I think the coaching for the drive to meet up with his mistress and the whole funeral fiasco are tied for first place when it comes to whopper lies.

First, the funeral was supposed to occur on Friday so he was going to drive down on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday, and then drive back after it was over. On Friday I’m texting him, asking him if he’s on his way home. Story twist! In an amazing coincidence the funeral was moved to Saturday! Can you believe it? Yeah, I shouldn’t have either. He was good, though. He swore up and down that he was told it was on Friday.

Naturally, since it’s occurring on Saturday it only makes sense now to spend the rest of the weekend there, visiting with dear old Mom. How can you argue with that? What kind of a monster would be mad because a loving son is spending time with his beloved mommy? Then when called around 3 pm on Sunday, and asked if he was on his way home or about to start out, he tells me he’s going to wait until 8 because he wants to “challenge himself” and see if he can make the drive in the dark. What can I say, dear readers? I was an idiot. I kept telling myself there was no way he would possibly cheat on me again. We had reconciled! We had moved 2000 miles across the country for him! We had bought a new house, new furniture! We had put our kids into new schools! He had just bought me a new car! We had just put in a $57,000 pool! Who in their right mind plots to leave during all of this? Obvious answer now: A lying, cheating cousinfucker, that’s who.

It gets better. Around 11 pm he calls or texts (I forget which now) that he had put the keys to his mom’s van in his briefcase and only noticed it once he had been on the road for about three hours. He’s going to have to turn around and give those to her so he’ll come home tomorrow. Strangely, he didn’t make it a priority to get up early in the morning and head straight home. This was a simple six hour trip home. Had he left around 7 or 8 he would have been home around 1 or 2. He didn’t make it home until after 5 which means he didn’t leave until 11. In hindsight I suppose I should be surprised he didn’t wheel on in around 10 or 11 that night. God knows I was swallowing his lies like candy so I’m sure he could have figured something out to explain why he didn’t get in his damn car until 6 pm or so.

Do you want to hear something really sad and pathetic? On his way home, as he was on the exit ramp to our town, he rear ended a tractor trailer. He assured me he was fine (I found out after the fact) and I recall my overwhelming thought being, “Oh no! This is going to derail his progress. He’s not going to want to drive anymore.”

Yes, there I was, so worried that the poor baby was going to be traumatized after his accident. I had been feeling hopeful with all this recent “progress” and thought that maybe we would finally be able to go places- visit some wineries, check out Gettysburg, go to DC… Now we were probably starting all over at square one. Rats! I shouldn’t have worried though. He was able to make that trip every single weekend for the next six months.

As it turns out those were the last of the lies he could tell me and I would believe. A few hours after he got back home I received the message from The Saint, letting me know he had been spending his weekends with Harley.

Oh, he continued to lie: He was going to spend the weekend with Blockhead. “Oops, did I not tell you that? I thought I did,” he said when he snuck out while I was running errands.

“Send me naked pictures!” he tells me, probably with her right there by his side.

When I accidentally made his debit card inactive he was throwing a fit until I offered to drive to Blockhead’s house and give him the new card. “Oh it’s okay, baby. I’ve got my American Express and some cash. Don’t worry about.”

I should have insisted. At that point I knew where he was. I’d had his ass followed.

He lies even today. He’ll never stop. When it comes to him I follow that old adage: If his lips are moving, he’s lying.

Hall of Fame

My daughter was a gymnast from the time she was three until we left Virginia when she was 16. Most of that time she was in the JO (Junior Olympics) program. The last two years she competed on her high school team and she spent one year competing as an Excel gymnast.

High school gymnastics is not as demanding as the JO program in many, many ways. The chief difference would be the time commitment. In her last few years in Utah she was at the gym 20-25 hours a week. She practiced every day after school for 4 hours; her last year out there she practiced five hours three days a week and four hours the other two. Summers she was at the gym 5 hours a day, five days a week. Although competition season is only approximately four months, you practice year round. In high school gymnastics you’re practicing 2-2 1/2 hours a day, five days a week. And only during season.

There are also certain requirements you have to meet in order to move up levels. There are basically 10 levels and then the elite program. She was a Level 8 when we moved. She was doing fun stuff like giants on the bars, flicks on the beam, twisting fulls on floor, and a Yurchanko on vault.

High school gymnastics has its own difficulties. For starters, they compete on a dead mat instead of a spring floor. You know how when you watch the Olympics those gymnasts look like they’re getting eight feet off the ground? It’s because they probably are! Those spring floors are nice! You get a lot of height out of them and they help when you’re trying to gain height for a trick and flying through the air. I’m not saying it’s easy to throw a full on a spring floor, but it’s infinitely more difficult when you’re trying to do that trick on a dead mat.

A lot of high school teams have old, outdated equipment, too. Gymnastics equipment is very expensive and they just don’t have the support that other sports do. The bars at my daughter’s old high school were purchased in the 80s. The equipment is usually stored away and then brought out for practice and meets, too. This can lead to things not being put together quite as well as it should be. I don’t think I will ever forget Rock Star’s first conference meet where the beam collapsed in the middle of a girl’s routine. Thank goodness she wasn’t doing anything dangerous when it went down!

The biggest difference, and probably the most difficult part of high school gymnastics, is the fact that everyone competes against everyone. In JO, or team, gymnastics you reach a certain level and you compete at that level for the season. Every person in that level is required to have the same skills. There are some choices, of course, but everyone basically has the same set of skills, and as you gain more skills, you move up. Even within those levels you compete in an age group, so if you’re a 14 year old Level 8, you’re going to compete against other 14 year old Level 8s.

Not so in high school. Like I said, everyone competes against everyone. So, the girl that is trying gymnastics for the very first time is competing against girls who have competed for four years in high school and against club and Excel girls as well.

In some of the bigger cities in the state their gymnastics team is comprised mostly of girls who are practicing year round with their individual gyms. The girl that is having trouble doing a cartwheel or a hip circle is competing against a Level 10 who can possibly throw a double full on a dead mat and giants on bars.

Plus, they begin the scoring at what basically amounts to a Level 9 list of requirements, so a lot of girls aren’t even starting at a 10.0 start value.

And, just to add to the difficulty, unlike other sports where you compete in single A, doubleA, triple A,  4A, or 5A, gymnastics had no such differences, at least on the individual level.

Rock Star’s school hadn’t had a girl go to States in years. They didn’t have a competitive gym in the area (until about a year before we moved) and the majority of the girls were gymnasts during the school year only. I don’t think many of them even made it beyond the conference meet to Regionals.

Rock Star made it to Regionals the first year on three events, and barely missed out on going to States that same year. You had to place in the top 8 and she placed 9th, only .025 behind the 8th place person. Her second year there she qualified for Regionals in every single event and went on to compete at States on the balance beam. I believe she placed 17th out of the entire state, competing against Level 9s and 10s and Diamond Level Excel girls.

All of that explanation to get to this: Her former high school had a Hall of Fame. During Homecoming the new inductees would be introduced. To qualify you had to be outstanding in your sport. One of the last people to be inducted was the last female to have gone to States in gymnastics.

The day she qualified for States I remember looking at her and telling her, “You know you just made it into your high school’s Hall of Fame, right?”

I debated even writing about this because it’s been two years now since we left and it seems like such a petty thing in the grand scheme of things. There are worse things that could happen. Ultimately, she graduated from another school and is leaving for college in less than a month. This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t even be on my radar. It’s in the past.

Yet it still stings. It is still a disappointment. She worked hard and she achieved something that not many people there did, and that probably not many will achieve again anytime soon.

Her father stole that from her. He fucked around on me with his cousin, ended up losing his job, and forced us to move. Even if she had never gone back to States she would have still made it in. His selfish behavior took that away from my baby and it still pisses me off.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have even mattered in her later years. Maybe when the time finally came and she was invited back to Homecoming and to be inducted she would have said, “No thanks, I can’t get away from my job.” Maybe at that point in time she would have thought it was ridiculous. I don’t really know. What I do know is she never got that chance. HE STOLE THAT!

More Advice From Mort

Oh, Mort; you’ve gotta love him. The mobster googled him and apparently for a mere $775/hour you can see him in person for counseling. If you want the intensive in-home counseling though you’ll have to shell out $8500/day plus travel expenses.

I told the mobster I was going into business for myself. For a bargain price of $5000/day I will follow you around and slap you upside the head whenever you start to feel pity for your cheater. I will research the hell out of Chump Lady blogs and give you snarky, sane advice. I will tell you that you deserve better and try to compel you to look at the reasons you’re willing to settle for so little. I’ll regal you with stories of how life can be so much better without a cheater. I’ll tell you that you can do this, that you are mighty, that you can overcome all obstacles. I’ll hopefully get you to realize there are no such things as personality transplants, and that the person you’re leaving is not a good person if they could do these things to you. If you wish to do this over the phone? $225/hour. Same price for in person counseling sessions. I figure I have as much experience and training as good ol’ Mort so why not?

Alas, the problem is no one wants to hear my message. They all want to believe that it can be fixed and that there is a magic formula to save every marriage. No one wants to hear that their partner is an entitled nitwit. They don’t want to be told that they are doing all the work while the spouse who should be doing the work is sitting back watching you dance.

They want to be told that deep down the cheating spouse is a good person. They’re suffering from toxic shame. They’re in a fog or suffering a midlife crisis. That “hurt people hurt people”. They have FOO issues. They don’t trust. They’re afraid of being vulnerable. They need your 100% guarantee that if they agree to give up the side piece you’ll promise not to leave (and to never bring up the affair again either).

That’s where Mort comes in. Listen to him and he guarantees that your marriage will be restored and you’ll be more in love than ever, or your money back.

I’ll give you his tips for free, but not without a bit of added snark.

1. Don’t spy! Spying is bad; cheating not so much. According to Mort, spying is another form of betrayal. <gasp> Yes, spying is just like fucking another person behind your spouse’s back. They are exactly the same. It is, as he likes to call it, a violation of trust. You know what violates your trust, Mort?  Being moved 2000 miles across the damn country so your husband can get closer to his whore cousin! Having your husband try to get you to send naked pictures while he’s with his whore cousin. Showing other people naked pictures he’s taken of you while you were asleep. Telling you that he’s sending his mom money every week when the reality is he’s sending Harley the Whore money. Letting you get online and pay his whore’s cell phone bill. Those are violations of trust. Checking phones, hacking into emails, following a spouse, or plotting to put a voice activated recorder in cars pales in comparison. Not to mention those actions are all taken due to the mindfuck the betrayed spouse is living through. He urges you “not to go there” because you’ll just add to the distrust in the marriage and make matters worse. Yes, trying to get honest answers is the root of all evil. Few marriages can withstand that. Remember folks, it’s not the cheating that is the problem. It is uncovering the cheating that is the problem. Maintain your decency and integrity, chump! Okay, he didn’t call you a chump; I did. But it’s the same damn thing. Eat that shit sundae and smile while you’re doing it! You’re the better person!
2. Hang in there! Put your life on hold! The vast majority of affairs end within a year, he tells us.  You’ve got nothing better to do than to wait out the affair partner. The affair will die. And surely there will never be another one. Don’t make an impulsive decision. Don’t impose consequences. Don’t think about yourself and what you deserve. Hang in there until the affair runs its natural course. Because again, you’ve got nothing better to do than to wait for your unfaithful spouse to wake up and come back to you. Your needs don’t matter. You don’t matter. Only the cheater matters. He goes on to advise that after the affair dies maybe you and your spouse might see your marriage and your future differently. Yep, I’m sure the cheater is thinking, “Holy shit! I can’t believe I almost had to do all this shit on my own!  Who would have done my dishes? Who would have done my laundry? Who would have cooked for me? Who would have contributed to the bank account? Who would have taken care of the kids? I don’t want to be alone. I need somebody to be here to take care of me and make my life easy. Plus… sex.
3. Kill ‘em with kindness. I like the way you’re thinking I just don’t like your technique. I was thinking more along the lines of a crowbar… Mort realizes the cheater doesn’t deserve it but offers up this gem: If you want to spoil his (or her) affair and turn your marriage around, don’t treat your spouse the way he treats you; treat your spouse the way you want him to treat you. He believes that the cheating spouse wants the betrayed spouse to leave them alone so they feel “emotionally free” to philander, but when you extend kindness it tugs on their conscience and ruins their justification for betraying you. No, Mort, no it doesn’t. That is not how this works. Cheaters cheat because they can. They feel entitled to cheat and they have crappy character. They look at kindness as a weakness. You tell your cheating spouse that nothing they do will ever make you stop loving them and they’ll kick you even harder. They are never thinking about you; they think about themselves. They love nothing more than being central. They fuck around and you dance as fast as you can to try to entice them back. It is one huge platter of cake to them.
4. Seduce ‘em. Oh brother. He does say that no one should do anything sexually they don’t want to. I want to make that clear before I tear him a new one. He goes on to offer this useful nugget: …it’s helpful to rev up the sexual part of your relationship. Your friend may have told you, “Don’t let him have his cake and eat it too.” Yeah, you’ll feel vindicated withholding sex. But what will that accomplish? Perhaps they will preserve their dignity? Then again, who cares about your dignity when you’re fighting for your man (or woman)? It’s punitive; it’s not healing. Um, excuse me, but not having sex with someone who clearly has no respect for you and who has more than likely been gas lighting and lying to you for God only knows how long is not punitive. It’s common sense. Obviously if the cheated on spouse wishes to have sex, feel free, but how dare you try to shame someone into fucking their lying, cheating spouse? Show her (or him) what she (or he) will be missing if he takes his business elsewhere. Ah, the ol’ pick me dance performed on your back. Or your knees. Or cowgirl style. Hey, my mother isn’t the only one with a dirty mouth.

What do I know? My husband cheated and I didn’t follow Mort’s brilliant advice and now I’m divorced. Would I still be married if I had followed it? Pretended everything was fine? Seduced him on a regular basis? Never checked his phone?  I doubt it. What he wanted was total annihilation of the past. Don’t ever bring it up. Don’t ever let it affect you. Be grateful that I, cheating, lying CF, gave you a second chance. Be grateful that I chose you, Sam, over the cunt face cum dumpster.

I feel that I did do a lot of what Mort suggests. I listened with an open mind. I made changes and gave him what he said he wanted. All the changes were on my end, though; none on his. After October of 2013, a mere two months after finding out he had sniffed her out again and had been carrying on with her all summer long, I didn’t bring it up again until we were ready to move and he tried to keep me off the deed to our new house in Virginia. But that wasn’t enough for him. I wasn’t allowed to have any feelings about his affair with her. I was supposed to grant immediate forgiveness to everyone in his family, despite the fact that none of them asked for it, and none of them cut ties with her. And God forbid I have a bad day!

That brings me to my final point. Perhaps the real question isn’t whether or not I would still be married if I had followed Mort’s advice. The real question is whether or not I’m better off now without him. The answer to that is a resounding YES!

Warning: Unapologetic happy photos ahead.

How could I not be madly in love with someone who writes love letters on the sidewalk?

My new favorite, I think.

 

Yes, maybe I could have kept my lying, cheating husband if I had followed Mort’s advice; but then I would have missed out on all of this.

The Devil You Know

I came across an article written by someone who purports to rebuild remarriages after affairs. For a tidy sum he can help you keep that delightful lying, cheating love of your life.

I have long said that I’m not here to give advice. If you’ve read much of my blog then you know that I had more than one DDay which means I forgave my lying cheater at least once. Technically speaking I suppose Harley was the gift that resurfaced three times. The first time was when he supposedly spontaneously confessed he had been “texting” other women.

True story? Her husband discovered what they were up to and messaged me on FB. Cousinfucker deleted the message and then blocked him. Why he owned up to texting her is beyond me.

Oh, and he never elaborated on exactly what it was he was texting and then refused to disclose a week or so later. I was so stupid and thought he was so honorable that he might have felt guilty simply because he was talking to other women and spilling secrets about our marriage.

So that was DDay #1. Happy Mother’s Day!

DDay #2 was August 14, 2013, three months later. I got yet another message from her husband.

Yeah, about that blocking thing… when he came back from Jezebel’s wedding Harley the Whore blocked me. I had her profile picture up all over the house when he got home and my lying cheater promptly told his twu luv all about it. Once I realized I was blocked I did some digging and found her husband on my list of blocked contacts, which was really strange because at that point I don’t think I had blocked anyone ever in my life!

DDay #3 was two years later, almost to the day. August 10th, 2015. A day which will live in infamy and is only surpassed by June 10th, 2016 as one of the crappiest days of my life.

I dredge all this up again to point out that I, too, forgave my husband at one point. I don’t condemn those who choose to make a go of it. I don’t look down on them. I’m here telling my story and sharing my thoughts so that hopefully others won’t suffer through the same shit I did.

With that said, what the hell, Mort? You’re selling snake oil!

Some of his wonderful advice? #1- Don’t ask about the affair or go to marriage counseling. #2- Tell them divorce is not an option. #3- Have sex with your partner if you want to. I’m not sure if #4 is from him or some other person promising success for 3 easy installment payments of $299, but I’ve also heard that if your partner is still in the affair then be extra sweet and understanding. Don’t make them feel any “toxic shame”.

O.M.G. This is a cheater’s wet dream! I get to fuck around and you can’t ask me about it!

Of course they don’t want to talk about it! They don’t like consequences. They’d rather engage in all that hysterical bonding. Now that’s where the fun is at!

Let’s concentrate on the sex and forget the talking. When you talk you make me feel something akin to guilt and I don’t like that. I’m so splendiferous that I wouldn’t actually feel guilt but when you use words and say things like, “You really hurt me,” and “I don’t trust you anymore,” or “What were you thinking fucking that low class whore?” then it almost makes me feel bad and it certainly doesn’t get me hot and bothered. Let’s stick to sex and forget all the talking stuff.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but let’s face it divorce is always an option when one person wants out. You can’t prevent it no matter how much you personally may be against it.

Honestly? It’s just another form of pick me dancing. No matter what you do I won’t divorce you. Keep fucking the whore. Tell me everything is my fault. Give me a list of things that I need to work on. 

I think my favorite thing about Mort, though, is his philosophy on forgiving the cheating spouse. https://marriagemax.com/cheater/  What if your spouse has done the work and is truly repentant? Don’t you owe it to him or her to forgive and forget and reap the benefits of all your hard work? Don’t you realize that your chances of dumping the cheater only to end up with someone else who just cheats on you is sky high so you may as well keep the cheater you know? I think Mort says it so much better.

Most victims of infidelity (and other emotional hardships) believe that they’ll be safer in a relationship with someone who never cheated on them or hurt them. I completely understand this FEELING. However, the OPPOSITE might be true.

In the case of the woman above, it appears that her husband really changed. And I’ve seen many people transform themselves after getting the “I want a divorce” wake up call. Unless her husband is a pathological liar or a sociopath, he’s LESS LIKELY to make the same mistake again compared to someone whose track record is clean. In other words, once a spouse learns their lesson, they’re LESS vulnerable to make the same mistake than someone who’s never erred in that way before.

According to a 1998 survey by researchers at the University of Chicago, about 25 percent of married men and 17 percent of married women in the United States ADMIT to having been unfaithful. The noted author Shirley Glass’ research suggests it is probably closer to 25 percent of women and 40 to 50 percent of men! That means that starting from scratch gives the above woman a 50% chance of finding another husband who will be faithful.

Now let me ask you: at this point in this woman’s husband’s life, given all he’s been through and learned, what are the chances that he’ll screw up again? If this woman gave him another chance, what’s the likelihood that he’d make the same mistake that almost caused him to lose his family years before? In my opinion, it’s dramatically less than 50%. In fact, I think it’s slim to none.

Let me clarify that I’m talking in this case about a man who truly transformed himself and succeeded to prove that he’s changed. I’m NOT talking about someone who continually makes empty promises.

If this woman were to leave her husband, I think Las Vegas would give her LOWER odds that this sort of thing would never happen to her again.

Here lies an unfortunate irony. People wait years and years for their spouse to wake up and change their ways. Then when they finally do it, they’re told it’s too late.

I understand why someone would feel, after being cheated on, for example, that “it’s too late.” But the fact of the matter is that they’re about to walk away from a person who is FINALLY prepared to be a wonderful loving spouse.

In my experience, it’s these people, people who have made serious mistakes, people who have had the harshest wake up calls, who become the BEST spouses and are capable, more than anyone else, of forging the MOST fulfilling relationships.

Do you see the irony here?

The mistakes that ruin relationships are those that transform the sinners into people capable of the most outstanding relationships. The unfortunate thing for the victim is that they don’t know how to heal from the hurt that would enable them to reap the benefit of their ordeal.

So the roles become reversed. The person who was ruining the relationship stands ready to transform it; while the person who wanted to work on the relationship all along becomes the cog in the wheel that inhibits true love.

In other words, the woman above has a choice. If she lets her husband go, he’ll most likely fall in love with another woman and treat her like a queen. He’ll be the husband to his new wife that the woman above always wanted him to be to her. I’ve seen it happen too often. Some lucky woman owes a poor victim a lot of gratitude. But this woman has another option. She could forgive her husband and become that lucky woman!

Here’s Sam’s philosophy: Yes, if you don’t fix your picker and figure out why you settled for so little in your relationship there is a good chance you could wind up with the exact same kind of person- a person who is willing to lie and cheat and take you for granted. But if you do fix your picker you have a really good chance of finding someone who won’t cheat on you, someone who will value you. Or put another way, you already know your current partner is a cheater. Those odds are 100%. It’s done. This mythological new person? Hasn’t done a damn thing to you!

But I’ll bite. Let’s take Mort’s theory bit by bit.

Most victims of infidelity (and other emotional hardships) believe that they’ll be safer in a relationship with someone who never cheated on them or hurt them. I completely understand this FEELING. However, the OPPOSITE might be true.

Yes, it might be true. Then it again it might not be. As I said above; however, you know with 100% certainty that your current partner has the ability to cheat on you because they have already, wait for it.. cheated on you!

In the case of the woman above, it appears that her husband really changed. And I’ve seen many people transform themselves after getting the “I want a divorce” wake up call. Unless her husband is a pathological liar or a sociopath, he’s LESS LIKELY to make the same mistake again compared to someone whose track record is clean. In other words, once a spouse learns their lesson, they’re LESS vulnerable to make the same mistake than someone who’s never erred in that way before.

Well, Mort, the devil is in the details, isn’t it? The problem here is that a lot of very remorseless cheaters say they’ve changed.

What they really mean is they don’t want to go through the hassle of a divorce. You are useful to them. They’ll do a better job of keeping the affair hidden.

My own husband swore up and down that he had learned his lesson. Harley was the biggest mistake of his life. He should have bought a motorcycle instead of engaging with her. He talked to her the way he wanted to talk to me. He would never make that mistake again. I was the reason he was alive and why he fought in a war.

Two years later I was going through the exact same hell and with the exact same whore. The man learned nothing. He wanted everything to be perfect and go back to normal and at the first hint that that wasn’t the case he reached out to Harley the Whore.

According to a 1998 survey by researchers at the University of Chicago, about 25 percent of married men and 17 percent of married women in the United States ADMIT to having been unfaithful. The noted author Shirley Glass’ research suggests it is probably closer to 25 percent of women and 40 to 50 percent of men! That means that starting from scratch gives the above woman a 50% chance of finding another husband who will be faithful.

Even if I agreed with your 40-50% statistic for men cheating, I still have a 50% chance that the new guy won’t cheat and I’m still left with the fact that I’m 100% sure that my current partner is a cheater.

Now let me ask you: at this point in this woman’s husband’s life, given all he’s been through and learned, what are the chances that he’ll screw up again? If this woman gave him another chance, what’s the likelihood that he’d make the same mistake that almost caused him to lose his family years before? In my opinion, it’s dramatically less than 50%. In fact, I think it’s slim to none.

I think you are way too optimistic. You are also assuming that every person who does not wish to divorce is invested in the marriage. That is simply not the case. Many times they are simply invested in not suffering consequences. Divorce has many consequences- losing custody time of your kids, splitting retirement funds, moving out of houses, no longer having someone to do your laundry/cook your food/clean your house/take care of your kids, no longer having access to your partner’s paycheck, losing friends and relatives…

Let me clarify that I’m talking in this case about a man who truly transformed himself and succeeded to prove that he’s changed. I’m NOT talking about someone who continually makes empty promises.

That’s the kicker, isn’t it, Mort? How do we really know which one we ended up with? Is the person truly remorseful? Have they truly transformed themselves? Or are they avoiding consequences?

If this woman were to leave her husband, I think Las Vegas would give her LOWER odds that this sort of thing would never happen to her again.

I don’t appreciate your scare tactics. I also don’t believe you should continue a marriage based upon the fact that, “Well, the next person will probably cheat, too, so why bother to find someone who won’t cheat and who will value me?

Maybe this person will find someone who is 100x better than the person left behind. That is another possibility.

Here lies an unfortunate irony. People wait years and years for their spouse to wake up and change their ways. Then when they finally do it, they’re told it’s too late.

I understand why someone would feel, after being cheated on, for example, that “it’s too late.” But the fact of the matter is that they’re about to walk away from a person who is FINALLY prepared to be a wonderful loving spouse.

In my experience, it’s these people, people who have made serious mistakes, people who have had the harshest wake up calls, who become the BEST spouses and are capable, more than anyone else, of forging the MOST fulfilling relationships.

Do you see the irony here?

Ah, the ol’ personality transplant! This person is now going to be everything you’ve ever wanted them to be! Nicely co-mingled with a giant helping of shaming people into forgiving the person who has devastated them.

Here’s the problem with your thinking, Mort. If my spouse has been an ass for 15-20 years and I’ve been begging him to change his ways and to please, please, please, keep his penis in his pants and then I finally wise up and realize his behavior is never going to change so I tell him I’m leaving him, it is NOT my fault that the marriage does not survive when he is finally facing  uncomfortable consequences and promises to change to avoid said uncomfortable consequences. You are putting the responsibility of the relationship succeeding or failing onto the person who has been abused and gaslighted for years. No, the relationship didn’t fail because I finally wised up and accepted my husband was an ass who was never going to change. It failed because my husband was an ass who was never going to change.

The mistakes that ruin relationships are those that transform the sinners into people capable of the most outstanding relationships. The unfortunate thing for the victim is that they don’t know how to heal from the hurt that would enable them to reap the benefit of their ordeal.

So the roles become reversed. The person who was ruining the relationship stands ready to transform it; while the person who wanted to work on the relationship all along becomes the cog in the wheel that inhibits true love.

Again, nice job blaming the victim. This relationship could work if only you would forget what I did! Yes, I may have mistreated you and taken you for granted (not to mention lied to you and cheated on you) for 20 years, but the real reason our marriage ultimately failed was because you refused to forgive me the 21st year.

In other words, the woman above has a choice. If she lets her husband go, he’ll most likely fall in love with another woman and treat her like a queen. He’ll be the husband to his new wife that the woman above always wanted him to be to her. I’ve seen it happen too often. Some lucky woman owes a poor victim a lot of gratitude. But this woman has another option. She could forgive her husband and become that lucky woman!

It so rarely works that way. That’s the fear that keeps people stuck. He/she will be better for the next person!

No, chances are very good that he or she will not be better for the next person. Oh, it may look that way from what is posted on Facebook or Instagram. He or she may even be able to keep that mask on for a few years. It will eventually slip. The shiny will eventually wear off the new relationship and they’ll be looking for something new and exciting once again.

Mort likes to tout his high success rate of couples remaining together. That’s nice, but there’s a difference between staying together because a divorce or splitting up is too inconvenient and your partner is of use to you, versus actually recommitting to your relationship.

An Open Letter to Cousinfucker, Part 2

Welcome to Part 2 of the never-ending letter to CF in response to his vomit worthy text.

Sam, let’s try to figure out a way to make this less stressful for all involved. I am saddened that you felt compelled to toss out all of my memories and my clothing.  There are so few of them in this house.  In spite of all that has happened we have a history and that cannot be erased no matter how badly you want it to go away.  So you have a choice.  You can be bitter and hateful toward me, or respect the fact that I am setting you free of the burden of being my wife.  I know you will take a hit financially but you will be well provided for, we both know that.  My attorney has you covered for the rest of your life.

So stop all of this foolishness.  Let our children know I love them and let’s act like adults and come to a healthy relationship apart from all of this.  I respect you as a mother and you have followed me around the country and I am grateful to you for that.  Let’s build a future relationship that we can both be happy for each other and our children and show them that happiness and being whole are vital to a person’s future.  I read everything you wrote on your fake Facebook page.  I know you have been very unhappy.  It’s evident in what you wrote and your depression has heightened in the past two years.  I know you will be whole without me, we aren’t good together.  So all that said I want you and I to work on this.  To be grown up about it for the sake of our children.

You want to talk about my Facebook page?  Let’s talk about it!  I used that page as my own personal blog.  There were no friends on it and I used a fake name.  You didn’t want to talk about what you had done.  It “stressed” you.  You couldn’t handle it.  So I went off and I dealt with it on my own.

You say you read everything but you obviously didn’t or you simply ignored anything positive.  Maybe 10% of what was on there was about us and not even all of that was negative. You ignored the bone analogy where I talked about how a broken bone is actually stronger once it has healed and how I could get behind that.  You missed the long post where I talked about how your affair would be nothing more than a bump in the road on our 50th wedding anniversary.

There were casual updates.  Many times I said we were doing great and things were fantastic. There was the song that I said reminded me of us now.  There was the picture of the hearts you drew on my van. All good things. Hell, I even read one where I said:  This is where I go to vent so I feel bad only talking about the negative.  Things are actually great.

The vast majority of it was keeping an eye on your paramour, which it turns out I was right for doing because first chance you got you started up with her again!

The other large part of it was processing the feelings of betrayal I felt when no one in your family would cut ties with her despite her being the other woman since she was family and all.

You think that entitles you to have another affair with the same woman?  Unbelievable!

Hey, here’s an idea.  Instead of turning to people who you were always whining to me about maybe you should have talked to me!  Maybe you could have read that and thought to yourself, “Hey, maybe I should step it up and let my wife know how sorry I am, how much I love her, and then give her all the time she needs to completely heal from the betrayal I threw at her.”  Or even taken some of the things I said and actually done them, like defending me, or not throwing me under the bus!

But no!  Your solution was to go crying to anyone who would listen, “Oh, Sam is soooooo mean!  I had an affair with my cousin and she hasn’t forgotten about it!”  And everyone around you said, “Oh, poor Cousinfucker!  She’s horrible!  You should leave her!  Your happiness is the only thing that’s important.  Don’t worry about her, the woman who has stood by your side for the last 20 years.  Don’t worry about your kids.  As long as you’re happy they’ll be ok.  Just focus on your own happiness because you are the only person who matters!” Then again you’re so busy playing the victim that the idea you may have contributed to this is completely foreign.

I was asked to forgive your affair, uproot my life and my kids’ lives, move 2000 miles across the country, move closer to your mistress, and start all over in a town I knew we were only going to because of your affair with her all in the span of a year. Instead of telling you something you didn’t want to hear because it caused so much “anxiety” for you I handled it on my own.  And for that I’m vilified and you use it to justify having yet another affair with her.  You demanded that I forgive and forget because you didn’t want to face what you had done; you didn’t want to be reminded of it.  You didn’t want to have to do anything that was difficult. It’s unfortunate that you couldn’t handle the fact that I would *occasionally* be triggered by something.  It’s too bad you couldn’t accept the fact that having everyone in your family fawning over your mistress was distressful for me.  Turns out I was right for being distressed seeing as how it was your mother who encouraged her to call you again.

And you know what the funniest part of all this is?  I was completely over it finally!  Probably around April or May.  I didn’t want to be reminded of it or her.  Isn’t that funny?  Just as I feel completely healed from your first betrayal you start messing around with her again.  Although, according to her, I was never your first choice and you only stayed because you “couldn’t liquidate your assets quickly enough.”

I’m curious.  Was that a lie you told her or is that the lie she tells everyone to justify hopping into bed with you after you dumped her?  We both know it only takes about 24 hours to “liquidate” any assets you might have had.  And you might want to let the little whore know it doesn’t matter how “quickly you liquidate your assets” you still have to hand over 50%.  But I get it; the other story sounds better.

Stay tuned! There’s more to come!

 

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

August 2015

Texted him good morning around 11 and then that he would need to pick up Rock Star from cheerleading tomorrow.  He finally texted back around 3:30 so I asked him if he was on the road.  No, not yet.  I texted him around 5 to ask if he was on the road again or if he was just going to stay another day.  Haven’t heard back from him.

Then, since I’ve been keeping track of all our expenses I checked the account.  Another $228 to Wal-Mart.  In Whore Town.  Surely he can’t be that stupid, can he?  He said before he didn’t know why it would say Whore Town because she had bought stuff in a different city.

I hate this!  He won’t be home until at least 11. Probably later.  And I don’t give a shit how tired he is tomorrow.

Next fucking time he goes to his home state I’m trailing his ass down there.  I don’t care how I have to do it.  I’m sick of this.  I’m sick of being a basket case.  I’m sick of wondering why the hell his phone is tied to his side.  I’m sick of wondering if he’s going to leave me or if he no longer loves me.  He better not have brought me here only to turn around and leave me.

And it gets better.  Jezebel posted pictures of her and Zack, captioned a surprise visit from my brother.  Haven’t seen him in almost 2 years.  Not only does Harley like the pictures, but her sister says, “I seen him at the family reunion.  It had been years!  It was great to see him.  So glad you all got to get together.”  WHAT?  What fucking family reunion?  I’m hoping it was autocorrect and she meant she say it has been years.  It damn well better be.  I mean, I know his cousin died.  That’s not in dispute.  But I guess the funeral really could have taken place on Friday at 1 and then he could have gone to this family reunion.

 

The Day Before D-Day

August 2015

No better today.  I ended up texting him around 8 last night.  Got no reply so I called.  He was napping.  He’s not planning on leaving until around 2 or 3 this afternoon.  I got to see pictures of him and Jezebel on FB.  Always good to know he’s hanging around her.  My mom is pissed since I told her he’s no longer seeing his psychologist and he went to His home state again.  I’m not very happy about it either.  I can’t stand confrontation but I’m not sure how else things will move forward.  How does he not see it’s wrong to stay holed up in the bedroom while he’s home, ignoring me and the kids, but he can drive to his home state for a funeral of a cousin he has barely spoken to in 20+ years?  He’s planning on driving to see Blockhead soon and then he’s going to his fucking reunion in October.

I’m tired of being portrayed as the bad guy.  I’m not the one who cheated.  I’m not the one who lied all summer long.  I’m not the one who hasn’t been around for years at a time.  I’m not the one encouraging people to leave their spouse.  So why the hell am I the one feeling like I have to fix everything?

I’m picking Rock Star up at noon and then I think I’m taking a pill to help calm my nerves.  I keep telling myself to breathe and to slow down.  He loves me.  He fears every day that I’m going to leave him.  He’s not having an affair.  You don’t have all the facts and you’re going off half cocked.  I’m just ready to die and the only thing that keeps me going is my kids.  I can’t do that to them.

 

Two Days Before D-Day

August 2015

It’s now 5:41 and I have yet to hear from my dear husband today.  I decided to wait it out and see if he would text me first.  I guess not.  I guess it completely slips his fucking mind that him being in his home state, a mere one hour away from HER might cause ME just a wee bit of anxiety.  Along with his staunch refusal to take either of the kids.  I think I’m going to take a pill tonight.  I just can’t function.  I’m on autopilot and thinking about crashing my car again.  Am I being totally ridiculous with wanting some contact?  I was looking at old texts from him, sent just a year ago and they are so damn different than what I get now.  Maybe it’s all the newness wearing off.  Maybe he was just missing me seeing as how we were apart.  But I miss it.  I miss what he turned into for that short amount of time.  And I’m getting pissed because he has done squat to keep in touch.  I keep telling myself that he wouldn’t cash in pretty much all of his stock on this swimming pool only to turn around and leave me.  I keep telling myself that I don’t know that Blockhead is telling him to divorce me.  I just don’t freaking know anything anymore.  He’s making me crazy and at least one of us needs to stay sane for these kids!

Present Day Sam Says:  He was probably too busy setting up his joint checking account with Harley to get back to me. Oh, and an hour away from her? No, she was there at the funeral with him. It’s date night, y’all! Complete with his mommy as chaperone and introducing her to everyone in his family!

Writing this right now makes me realize that everyone in his damn family knew that our marriage was over and that I was being replaced before I ever had a clue. Talk about humiliating.