Got Guilt?

I was reading a blog.  I read many blogs if I’m honest.  One theme I’ve noticed is people who feel guilty about the fact that their husbands have cheated. Or people who have not disclosed anything about the affair to people IRL.

Hey, it’s your life and I try very hard not to tell people what to do; however, I feel very bad for those people who have no support in real life.  I don’t know how you manage to get through this without leaning on somebody.  I didn’t tell anywhere close to the same amount of people the first time I caught Cousinfucker cheating.  I did tell three people- two of them lived approximately 1500 miles away.  Then again, I was trying to reconcile.

The thing with reconciliation that makes it so difficult is that you want to protect your spouse but you also need your own support.  Being the good little wife that I was I didn’t want to make things more difficult for Cousinfucker.  Oh, the shame!  The horror if people found out he was a lying cheater!  So, with very few exceptions I kept it to myself and tried to work through it on my own.

Here is a different way of looking at it though.  If a cheater wants to reconcile, part of showing remorse, IMO, is putting on your big boy/girl panties and being accountable to the people closest to you.  Yes, I fucked around on this person you love.  Face the awkwardness!  Cheaters cannot have it both ways- it’s not a big deal, get over it…. but I get to maintain my secrecy about the affair (which is a Minor Thing Really).  That is from Chump Lady.  I think it’s brilliant.  Either cheating is no big deal, or it is.

This is another tidbit that I chewed on (and this one is all mine):  He never cared or appreciated the fact that I walked a tightrope for him.  I think he figured he was owed confidentiality.  Oh, he cried right after I left to go to my stepdad’s funeral and told me he deserved to have everyone know what he had done, but I don’t think he meant it.  He was feeling sorry for himself and playing the victim like he always does.  I don’t necessarily think it would have led to a different outcome if I had been more upfront with everyone.  Perhaps I would have learned sooner that he was full of shit and wanted a reconciliation based simply on his one apology.  Maybe I would have figured out he wasn’t capable of doing anything difficult before I uprooted my kids.

Meanwhile, I’m walking the tightrope, trying to protect him so that no one thinks he’s a “bad” person and he’s busy badmouthing me to everyone he possibly can.

“She’s going to leave me!”

“She hates me!”

“She only stays for the money!”

“She’s left me up here to cry all day; she never checks on me.”

“I mean nothing to her.”

“We haven’t had sex in ten years.”

Yes, I’m trying to figure out how to explain that he thinks I’m going to leave him without going into detail about his previous affair and he’s telling people I hate him.  I’m trying to find someone to stay with him at the hospital should Jezebel come to visit because I don’t want her alone with him so that she can continue to urge him to leave me, and I can’t explain exactly “why” I don’t want her alone with him.  Or if I do say she urged him to leave me then again I can’t explain exactly “why” she would do such a thing.  But he had no problems telling Blockhead I stayed with him solely for the money and I left him upstairs to cry all by himself without ever checking on him.  I think my favorite part of that story was when I confronted him and told him he had thrown me under the bus and he countered with, “No!  You took it out of context.  I was actually trying to protect you!”  With protection like that I don’t think I need enemies!

Fast forward to D-Day #2.  Do you think I kept it to myself this time?  Oh hell no!  I told everyone.  I told my mom who told my brother and my sister-in-law.  I told my former neighbors.  I told my bffs. I told several of my cousins (remember, I don’t sleep with mine).  Hell, I told the lady down at the vet’s office when she complimented my purse!  I even got on Facebook several months later and sent private messages to pretty much everyone I considered a friend, and not just a FB friend.  Several of my kids’ teachers know (from back in our former state).  People I volunteered alongside in PTA know.  Other gym moms know.  I didn’t shut up.  And you know why?  Because I’m not ashamed.  If anyone should be ashamed or feel guilty it is him.  I didn’t fuck my cousin.  I didn’t move my spouse and kids 2000 miles across the country and blow up their lives to hook up with a white trash skank. I’m not a cheater.  Him cheating does not reflect poorly on me at all.  He owns his behavior.

I’ve bought into the whole, “Oh, if only I hadn’t had that Facebook page!” rhetoric.  Seriously, I’ve beaten myself up over it.  If only I hadn’t created the page.  If only I had stuck with the nondescript name or made it private or friends only.  If only I had slapped a happy smile on my face and pretended like everything was perfect.  You know what?  It doesn’t matter!  If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else.  Even if I take it all the way down to the end and say, “Sam, if you hadn’t had that FB page then he wouldn’t have had a downward spiral.  If he hadn’t had a downward spiral then he wouldn’t have been crying on his mom’s shoulder, his sister’s shoulder, his best friend’s shoulder.  If he hadn’t been crying on their shoulders then they never would have encouraged him to leave you and Tammy Faye never would have encouraged Harley to call him.  You could have gone on happily ever after!” I still don’t buy into the blame game.  If all it took for him to cheat was his mom encouraging that whore to call him then what have I lost?  If all it took was Jezebel urging him to leave me then what did I lose?  He’s a coward, a drama queen, a whining baby- all with bad character and poor morals.  If the only way we could remain happily married was for there to be absolutely no problems ever, and for me to always be in a good mood while cheering him on, then again, what have I lost?  I needed him and he bailed on me.

I hope that if you are reading this and you are one of those that *does* feel ashamed because of a cheating spouse that you’ll be able to slough that off like dead skin on your feet.  It’s not about you.  It’s about the cheater.  Those of us who have been cheated on, betrayed, duped, and taken advantage of have nothing to be ashamed of.  You didn’t do it.  You don’t need to own it.  It’s *their* bad, not yours!

As for me, I think there might be a few people I haven’t already told.  I need to get on that.  Later!

Hello! Is There Anybody Out There?

Hello!  How are you?  If you’ve found this blog then you’re probably not well.  Possibly are even dealing with a cheater of your own.  I’m sorry.  Pull up a chair and sit down.  Let me tell you my tale of woe.  Then you can tell me yours.  I’ve decided to write a blog.  Divorce and infidelity are such ugly topics and yet, they are currently permeating my life.  I try to use humor to diffuse the horror of what my darling husband is doing to all of us so I’ll try to keep it funny.  He’s done a lot of stupid stuff so many times this blog will write itself.  I’ll warn anyone reading right now that I like to say “Fuck!”  and “WHORE!” a lot so if profanity or name calling the other woman offends you stop reading right now.  It’s only going to get worse  Before I begin though you need to realize a harsh reality:  Blogs like these are typically used to be therapeutic.  Once “recovery” has been achieved then the writer usually doesn’t write as much.  Unless you have a wicked niche like Chump Lady (I’m a HUGE fan) they tend to fan out quickly, or at least within a year or two.  I always find that kind of sad, though, because I tend to become attached to my favorite bloggers.  They’re like friends and I care about how the story ends, and what they’re doing now that they’ve entered the next phase.  So, I will try to keep up with this even if I ever do get my life in order.  It might take a while because I’m not that far into this journey.

I don’t know what all I’ll talk about; infidelity gets boring after a while.  Bummer.  Maybe I’ll post some favorite recipes.  Who knows?  Shake it up a bit:  Oh, there’s her piece about how she found out her husband was screwing his cousin and all the money he- saaaaayyyyyy… is that a recipe for orange chicken?  Perhaps I’ll use this space to be philosophical.  I’ll post wonderful quotes that make you think.  Or laugh.  Maybe I’ll share my day to day dealings with my kids and my friends. My kids say some really funny stuff.  If I ever take another vacation I can blog about that!  Or review movies.  I really don’t know.  This could end up being anything.  Mainly, it’s going to be about my lying, cheating husband.  At least for right now.

“What is her story?” you may be asking yourself.  It’s pretty simple. The short version is:  Girl meets boy, girl marries boy, boy cheats on girl, girl files divorce papers.  The longer version is:  Girl meets boy, girl marries boy, girl follows boy all over the country for 20+ years and gives birth to his children, boy hooks up with cousin on Facebook, decides he’s in love with her and wants to marry her, boy and cousin spend a few months texting, sexting and sending naked pictures, girl finds out, loses her shit and demands he end it with the whore, boy ends it with whore cousin and declares his love for girl, proclaiming that whore cousin was the worst mistake of his life and he should have bought a motorcycle, girl is a fucking idiot who trusts boy and agrees to move across the damn country for boy’s job (putting her *much* closer to the whore cousin), uproots her kids, buys a new house, new furniture, new car, puts a pool in the backyard, boy decides to start up with his whore cousin again and fucks her almost one year to the day that their furniture was being delivered to their new house, girl finds out once again and marches her ass to a lawyer to divorce his lying cheating ass.

Yep, my husband is screwing his cousin.  Yep, I’m so stupid I didn’t run like the wind the first time they “hooked up”.  Yep, I’m so incredibly dumb I actually moved across the country, knowing that my husband and his mistress had talked about him moving us all closer so they could be together.  Maybe that’s vanity.  I thought I was so great that my husband wouldn’t choose to go back to her after all the rebuilding we had done.  No, I’m going to go with stupidity.  A word of advice to any of you reconciling whose husbands want to move:  DON’T DO IT!  It’s a bad idea.

For now I need to keep as much anonymity as possible so I won’t be throwing out any names.  I think the fact that my husband is screwing his cousin is enough of a giveaway.  I hope there aren’t too many people in that situation!

I prefer to use Cousinfucker as the nom de plume for my STBX, but that takes a lot of time to type.  I will probably switch between using his full name, “Cousinfucker”,  and CF, the shortened version of Cousinfucker (think of it as a nickname, if you will), or just plain ol’ STBX.  His whore/cousin will, of course, just be whore.  No capital letters or anything.  Sometimes I might use tramp or slut, maybe even skank, but generally I will use whore.  It fits her.  The definition of a whore is someone who fucks for money and she is definitely fucking for money.  Over $9000 spent on her and her kids so far (and that’s just the money I can verify).  I used to frequent a board where a certain poster kept getting banned.  One of her new incarnations was Secret Agent Mom aka SAM, so I think that’s what I’m going to go with for now.  I need to be stealth mom, and stealth blogger so Sam I am.

Welcome aboard.  I’ll try to keep it interesting.