Classification of Infidelity

Posted on by stilllearning2b
infidelity

betrayed

In a recent piece on The Huffington Post, Dr. Mark Banschick describes four outcomes after a cheater is caught or decides to come clean:1) the cheater can make amends and the marriage continues, 2)the cheater can make amends and the marriage ends, 3)the cheated upon can choose to end the marriage or 4)the cheater can blame the other spouse for their actions and then leave the marriage. It seems like common sense, but reading this was a lightbulb moment for me. Part of my pain was in the fact that my husband was a type four – he blamed me and left. Not only were there no amends, but he didn’t even acknowledge his actions. In a way, I was lucky. I had no choice but to accept the fact that he was a type four. After all, leaving the state, refusing contact and committing bigamy made it pretty unlikely that I would get an apology. I had no choice but to move on.

Others are not so lucky. They have a type four spouse but they are holding out for him or her to turn into a type one or two and accept responsibility for their actions. Their hope and their reality do not match and the disconnect adds another layer of pain and anger.

Dr. Banschick classified the end of an affair – the choices left once the betrayal is uncovered. Affairs are different even before the end, with other factors complicating the situation and the healing process. I think it can be helpful to classify your affair as a way of finding acceptance and understanding of your particular situation and the factors that it contains.

Simple Infidelity

Simple does mean easy. This is a straightforward case of infidelity with no complicating factors.

 

Compound Infidelity

Compound infidelity is where there are secondary or tertiary betrayals.

Known Affair Partner: If the partner is a friend or confident of yours, you will feel betrayed by your spouse and your friend. Both relationships were violated.

Multiple Partners: These are the serial cheaters. The betrayed has to face the knowledge that their partner has made the choice to cheat multiple times with many people. This may have gone on for years before it is discovered.

Children: If there are children in the marriage, there is a sense that the cheater betrayed the family, not just the spouse. If and when the kids learn of the betrayal, they may internalize it and blame themselves for their parent’s infidelity.

Financial Betrayal: This is where the cheater extends the lying to finances. Marital funds may have been used to fund the affair(s). It is another major breach of trust in the marriage.

 

Complex Infidelity

Complex infidelity is where there are complicating factors that can interfere with the betrayed’s ability to heal.

Abandonment: In many cases of spousal abandonment, the disappearing spouse has another partner at the ready. The betrayed has to face  the discovery of infidelity while alone and abandoned. Part of the pain in this case is the feeling of having your voice stolen as there is no spouse to talk to or even scream at.

Gaslighting: This is the type 4 cheater before he/she is caught. The unfaithful partner blames the spouse and make him or her feel crazy for noticing inconsistencies or signs of wrongdoing. This pattern slowly wears away at the confidence of the betrayed, causing them to question what is real and what is fabrication.

Illegitimate Child(ren): When the unfaithful partner has a child as a result of infidelity, it negates any chances of a clean break from the affair partner. In the case of n unfaithful wife, a man may discover that he has been raising another man’s child as his own. Regardless of the circumstances, there is now an innocent who is caught in the web of deceit.

Addiction: Addiction and infidelity are not uncommon partners. They both thrive on secrecy and lies. If there is addiction present, it makes it even more difficult to reestablish trust.

Compound-Complex Infidelity

This is the combination of two or more of the situations above.

 

Regardless of the nature of the infidelity, betrayal is one of the worst pains someone can experience. Unless you have felt its cutting edge, you cannot fathom the devastation of being stabbed by the one you embrace. It is possible to heal from betrayal and that healing has to start with acceptance. Recognize the complicating factors in your situation. Be aware of where you have control and where you do not. Distinguish between when you need to fight and when to let go.

Learning to trust after betrayal is not easy. Not only is there the struggle with trusting a new partner, but there is also the challenge of learning to trust your own instincts and perceptions, especially if you were unaware of the affair. The body and subconscious mind respond as though there is a threat even when the rational mind knows there is not. It takes patience and time and a willingness to face the discomfort. It’s not easy, but it is also not impossible.

 

Who Is He?

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Who is that masked man
Who is that masked man (Photo credit: Aoife city womanchile)

The search engines have been busy the past couple of days answering queries about the identity of my ex-husband. I get it. You’re curious. It’s human nature. You want to scan his face and peer into his eyes looking for clues into his actions. I know, because I have done just that. Perhaps you want to know his name or his image as a warning, the one to stay away from. Unfortunately, this would be a false security, as is he but one person and not the only one that capable of deceit.

I know his name. His face. His birthday. His social security number. His family. Yet I still do not know who he is. However, I can tell you who he was. He was my best friend. My lover. My confidant. He was the man who built a toy chest for our friend’s son’s birthday. He was the man whose scent instantly calmed me and whose arms held me like they were molded from my frame. He was a voracious reader and he devoured science fiction and fantasy novels. His favorite series was The Dark Tower, by Stephen King. He hated tomatoes and loved Sweetwater IPA. He preferred dark clothes and refused to wear V-necks. He wore his watch on his right wrist, the face to the inside of his arm. He was the man who patiently built me an office and then rebuilt it for me when I grew weary of the desk where I spent hours writing papers. He was a quick learner, but a poor student in school. He was a fan of Apple, Banana Republic, and Alice in Chains. He was never athletic due to bad knees, although he started to work out once the pounds encroached with age.  He was the man who stayed up all night for a week with our third puppy who came to us with kennel cough. He was so confident that I would win Teacher of the Year, that he ordered flowers before the votes were announced. He was the man I turned to for advice and comfort. He was my everything.

He was all of these things, yet he was also the man who left his wife of ten years with a text message. He was the man who hid debts and stole money from accounts. He was the man who wooed an innocent woman, told her nothing but lies, and married her although he was already wed. He was the man that locked the dogs in the basement and drove off, not knowing that they would survive.

I do not know who he is. I don’t think he knows either. He is a man that has been consumed by whatever demons reside within him.

I have chosen not to reveal his identity for several reasons. First, it feels vindictive to put him out there. I am not his judge and jury, nor do I want to be. He has faced repercussions for his actions and, if he continues to live dishonestly, he will continue to see consequences. I don’t need to aid that; I’m confident he’ll do fine on his own. I also worry about the safety of his wife. I know they were together at the time of our divorce, eight months after the text, but I do not know her current situation. I want to protect her. I also don’t know his current situation with his parents. They have suffered enough; I don’t need to add to that. Finally, his identity does not matter. His eyes, even the dead ones in his mugshot, hold no answers. His name does not reveal any hidden truths. They are as much of a facade as everything I thought I knew about him.

So, to answer your question – who is he? He is a man. A man that was once loved deeply and who perhaps loved back. He is a man that took the wrong path at some point and chose to hide rather than seek help. Maybe by not knowing his name, you will be better able to recognize elements of him in those around you. Who is he? A man that can teach us the importance of asking for help, the value of truth, and the power of acceptance.

And, for those of you asking Google how to get away with bigamy? Just say no.

More Information: Where Is He Now?

A related post: Why I Choose Not to Play Criminal Pursuit

The Long Con

Posted on by stilllearning2b

One of the aspects that had been the most difficult for me to deal with is the realization that I was fooled by my husband. Conned. I felt (and still feel) like a fool. In my latest for Huffington Post, I describe some of the lengths my ex went to as he crafted and covered his other life.

If my husband had been Pinocchio, his nose would have been a giant redwood. While we were married, I thought he was a real boy. Once he disappeared, I learned otherwise. Read more here.

Screenshot of Pinocchio from the trailer for t...

What “Gone Girl” Can Teach Us About Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Spoiler alert: It is impossible to discuss the book Gone Girl without revealing some of the plot. It is an enjoyable read and one that is best if you enter with an unsullied mind. Please read the book before you read my post. Thanks!

Our first glimpse into Nick and Amy’s marriage is that of an outside observer. Marriages are never what they seem to the external world. The gentle man at work may be the enforcer at home. The confident woman strutting through the mall may be insecure behind closed doors. The couple that doesn’t touch much at the movies may spent hours intertwined once they return home. Nick and Amy wanted to project the image of a healthy marriage. A lie that slipped in through the cracks of the closed doors of their relationship.

Amy entered into the marriage as a character. She cast herself in the role of the “cool girl,” losing herself before the vows were even spoken. The facade wears thin, as all masks do, and she begins to blame her husband for a role she chose for herself. When the book opens, she has disappeared. At first, we shift the blame for her supposed abduction to her husband. Then we realize she is the one to blame for her own actions.

Obviously, the actions in the book are more extreme than in a usual marriage, but they still have ties to common marital issues. Amy completely subjugated herself for the relationship. For the image of a perfect marriage. When she realized she was unhappy, she chose to shift the blame for her actions to her partner that was unaware of her deceptions. She ran away to run from the persona she created. This pattern of failing to take responsibility for one’s own happiness and then blaming the spouse for the lack of contentment is all too common. Just as the pattern did not work too well for Amy, it doesn’t work in the real world either. You can disappear, but the unhappiness will be on your tail.

Amy was not the only weak link in the union. Rather than face his growing feelings of isolation and shame related to his failed career, Nick chose to seek attention in the arms of another. He tried to solve one problem by creating another. He also ran from the marriage, but his trek didn’t take him on the road.

Nick and Amy lived in a world of facades, more concerned about the illusions than the realities. In the end, they decide to settle for the illusion. It is an ending that has received much complaint and push-back. Perhaps because we want to believe that they can conjure up real love from the smoke and mirrors.

If we want real love in our lives, it has to start with authenticity. Be true to yourself and reveal yourself to your partner. Take responsibility for your actions and your own happiness. Love comes with imperfections and acceptance. Don’t get so carried away with the face of the marriage that is presented to the world that you forget to nurture it behind closed doors.

Gone Girl makes a much better read than Fifty Shades of Grey, but I still think the latter makes for a better party theme.

And now that you’ve read Gone Girl, check out Lessons From the End of a Marriage🙂

The Day the Marriage Died

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Up until now, everything I have posted has been recently written, almost 3 years since the end of my marriage.  I recently went back and visited some of my earlier writings, drafted in the weeks and months after he left.  I’ve decided to share some of that, to expose the raw underbelly of divorce.  Please be aware that this writing has a different tone.  The emotions and language are harsh as they capture my reaction on the day the marriage died.

Choosing: painting by first husband, George Fr...

Wellness is not measured by the amount of broccoli you eat or the number of miles you can run.  It is not found in the number of punches on your yoga membership card or the double digits of your sit-up count.  Wellness is not indicated by the reading of the blood pressure cuff or the size indicated on the label of your jeans.

I used to think I was well; I had all of the above mastered.  My lean, muscled body spoke of the intense workouts it was subjected to along with the strict vegetarian diet that was used to fuel the exercise sessions.  I awoke before dawn to ensure that I could fit a workout into my hectic schedule as a middle school teacher.  I fit long runs in on open evenings or on the weekends.  I watched everything I ate, avoiding meat and keeping a careful eye on the amount of fat consumed.  My favorite way to spend the weekends was working in my extensive garden or going on long hikes in the nearby North Georgia mountains.

I used to think I was well.  But, I wasn’t.  All it took to strip away all of physical manifestations of health was a few short sentences.  A text, sent across the country on a sunny Saturday afternoon, arriving unexpectedly on my phone.

July 11, 2009  12:38 p.m.

I’m sorry to be such a coward leaving you this way.  I am leaving. Please reach out to someone let the dogs out as I am leaving the state.  The code for the garage is 5914.  I’m truly sorry but I can’t do this anymore.   Please give me some time to come to terms with my decision.  I will call you in a few days.  I am sorry that I have failed you.

Lesson One

When two become ones, you are able to see yourself clearly.

Fear gripped.  Legs collapsed.  Brain stuttered.  Lungs heaved. Gut clenched. Body trembled.  World shattered.  Visceral.  Violent.

My father’s arms engulfed me as I lay shaking on the floor, my body and brain rebelling from my new reality.

“What can I do for you?  Do you want me to call mom?” my dad offered, seeking for a way to comfort his only child.

“Yes, please,” I responded, forcing the words out through my locked lungs.

He reluctantly left me in a heap on the hallway floor in my aunt and uncle’s house as he moved to the dining room to make the call to my mother in Texas, whom he had divorced decades earlier.

My brain barely registered his soft, yet strained voice in conversation several feet away from me.  My hands gripped my phone with urgency, willing it to send another message.  Wanting this to be a mistake.  A joke.  Anything but real.  A little anger pushed through the initial shock, enough for me to summon the courage to flip open the phone, using muscle memory trained over years to scroll down twelve names to Mr. T, the nickname he used to put himself in the phone he bought for me years before.

“Hello.  You’ve reached T of MMS.  I cannot come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible.”

I took a deep breath and left a message, almost unintelligible through my tears, my shaking, and my heaving chest.

“T.  I don’t understand.  What is this?  A text message?  Sixteen years and a text message? Please don’t do this.  Not like this.  Call me.  Please.”

I closed the phone, severing the connection.

It sat there silent.  Taunting me.  I opened it again, this time to send a text message.

What about the dogs?  Are the dogs okay?  Call me.

It remained silent, the screen dark.

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