What do you do with all the stuff that doesn't make sense? You just shake your head and mumble the occasional "What the fuck...?!?!"

Honestly... At the beginning we all ask why and how. Most of us soon learn that if there is an answer at all they aren't good answers and if you wait for good answers you might be waiting forever. Just know this... you didn't deserve it and you didn't cause it.

Many people get caught up in knowing the who, what, where, when and why of this awful situation. I say quit looking and quit asking when you know ENOUGH. Save yourself the time, trouble and heartache and get out when you know ENOUGH rather than knowing everything.

It will NEVER make sense JK. All you need to know is you deeerve better.

Dear jk,

I don't know how to make sense of the years of stolen life either.  The only way for me to make sense of his cruel deception, aka psychological abuse, was to spend countless hours researching narcissistic personality disorder traits and types.  But I can't find much that helps with what I now know is the true story of my life; for 33 years I was being duped and I am now humiliated to my core and feeling lost and disconnected from others.  I have read a lot about trauma and how it changes the brain. I even went to trauma therapy for awhile, but 5 years after discovery and now divorced I am still a shell of a person.  The best thing I have read that explains my current state was written by Omar Minwalla, PhD "Thirteen Dimensions of Sex Addiction-Induced Trauma (SAIT) among Partners and Spouses Impacted by Sex Addiction".  But, I don't know if there really are therapies that will help something this severe.  I know I somehow had the strength to get out and away. Just don't know what to do now.   Maybe someone else will respond with something helpful.  Thank you for posting.

John - This is a bit off topic for JK's post perhaps, but I want to take the time here to thank you for a post you made not too long ago about what finally got you "turned around" if you will.  You said that you started asking yourself, "What do I want?"  I have been thinking and thinking about that ever since your post - not constantly or anything, but it keeps coming up, and I really think it is helping me move forward.  It is painful to think about what I want and when I do I start to cry and seem to go back to a place I thought I had left, but I really do think this is a case where the hurt helps.

Actually, this might even help JK, in that I do think there comes a time like you have said here, when you realize all of the wondering, researching, and reading in hopes that you will get some answers to that stuff that makes no sense, is never going to happen, because yes, in the final analysis, most of our former spouses are personality disordered, not fixable, and will never give one iota really about what we went through with all of this.  Like Rob and Steve noted above, I too was simply discarded when the time came that I was no longer "useful", without a second thought, and without any remorse.

JK, just start thinking about what you want.  It is painful, but it is the path forward, and I thank John very much for putting that out there awhile ago.  (Also, the chumplady stuff from John is spot on!)

Thanks, John.  I always appreciate your posts.  They give me hope.

From posts I have read here for some time, it seems that those who have remarried, or seriously re-partnered up are faring far better than those who have not.  I am not sure of the reason(s), and I am curious as to how many who have remarried or otherwise found someone serious, were actually told by their former spouse that they are gay, as opposed to those who never got any sort of "confession", will never come out, etc.  I also wonder about the chicken and egg aspect, i.e. did those who remarried just finally get to a point in their journey that they were open to new relationships, could put the past behind them, so were "able" to move on with someone else, or could it be the other way around.  Did those who moved on and remarried actually first meet someone who was very interested in them and also so understanding that it helped them move on to a new and full relationship.

I think profound differences exist between those who were told my their spouse that they are gay, as opposed to those who never have nor will admit anything.

Again, I just think that those like you, Patti, Kel, Sam, etc. all seem to be doing significantly better than those who have remained alone and "sill stewing" or whatever.  It would be nice if all of us here could dissect it down to basics; just what is different and unique about those who have been able to eventually move forward to new and solid relationships.

 

I was married in total for 16 years.  For the last 10 years of that marriage, I was progressively unhappy - to the point of telling my ex that if he didn't make changes, this whole house of cards was going to collapse.  He would act as if he were going to do something (namely initiate more sex, and receive more advances), but they were short-lived, empty promises.  In the last two years, I was telling him that he was in imminent danger of losing me - that I could not go on living this way.  There were other large relationship issues as well, but I may have been able to continue dealing with those (although I'm so glad now that I didn't) IF I'd had the love, affection, attention and passion that I needed.  Without that, I had nothing left to stand on - nothing for which to fight anymore (except for my kids).

From the first six month of my marriage onward, I was actively raising three young children.  I was busy - I didn't look glamorous on any given day, although I was still willing to spruce up nicely for dates, and to "bring it" in the bedroom - wearing lingerie, keeping shaved, etc.  I lost 25 lbs. and started feeling confident about wearing more form-fitting clothing.  People in the office noticed and complimented me a lot on that accomplishment.  About a year after that, I got a tummy tuck and breast reduction, and my outfits looked all that much better.  By now I was being approached by men in my office building and out in public - good-looking men, even much younger men. I was turning away all their advances and still my husband didn't act like I was attractive to him.  At that point, I looked better than the day we'd met.  I started wearing thongs and sexy shoes, and he was still blind to me.  My brother-in-law noticed though, and told me that if my husband didn't notice me, the man was clearly gay (which we'd suspected for some time).  I began to believe that my dashed self confidence was never about my shortcomings at all, but about some mysterious thing that was never going to be addressed.

Then one day I saw an old acquaintance on Facebook and friend requested him.  He was someone I was practically obsessed with the summer between my junior and senior years of H.S. - my first real kiss.  He seemed like he liked me (we worked together so we saw each other every day), but then nothing happened.  I learned after chatting with him on FB exactly why - because he'd met my brother (who is one year younger than me, and was a middle linebacker on the varsity team & body builder) at a party, and once he realized that he and I were related, decided that his life was in imminent danger if he made moves on me - lol.  We got to chatting and sent each other a few face pics, and then it was texting all day, flirting.  We met once, and we kissed.  Now,.... I KNEW that my sex life had not only a lack of frequency, but that also what it did have was severely lacking in the passion department.  But I'd grown somewhat used to the problem, and had spent a decade trying to convince myself that it didn't matter.  Once that kiss with the other man happened - BOOM - suddenly I realized that A) I wasn't missing some of the passion, but a solid 90%, B) that I absolutely didn't want to go on trying to convince myself that it didn't matter to me, and C) I still had it.

Now, the other man thing went real fast.  Connected, kissed and then parted ways all within a matter of a few weeks.  I considered finding someone else to have fun with on the side - so that my spouse and kids wouldn't need to suffer me breaking up the family.  But I wanted it all - the real relationship with a loving partner that cherished me and wanted me.  I was never going to get it by keeping someone on the side.  My aspirations for what I longed for were too big to be contained within those parameters.  By now I realized that things were never going to change in my marriage, and that it was time to make a decision rather than just pushing the decision off.  I could stay or leave, but I wasn't going to just keep pushing the decision away.  Once I realized that deciding to stay and accept my marriage as-is was literally choosing unhappiness, I couldn't stay.  I passed my ex one day in the hall, and when he asked how I was, I told him that I just couldn't do this anymore.  He begged and pleaded and tried counseling for months, but it was more clear than ever to me that he wasn't even capable of changing.

I told my ex in January that I wanted a divorce.  By August, after lots of counseling, he finally threw in the towel.  By September my sister and brother-in-law told me that my husband had told them a year earlier in a drunken stupor that he is gay.  Why they didn't tell me earlier still baffles me.  I went home and confronted my ex with this information.  He told me that they must have misunderstood - that he told them that I had asked him if he was gay.  I said, "Dude, the jig is up - I KNOW.  I've known for a while now, but you wouldn't confirm it for me, so I didn't know where that left me.  It's okay.  It is what it is.  Personally, I'm just glad to know it's not that I'm ugly or unlovable."  And he broke down crying about how he'd wasted the last 16 years of my life.  I assured him that no, he hadn't; we had beautiful children that came from the unique pairing of the two of us.  And that I don't consider my life wasted - I would be okay, and so would he.  We were both now free to pursue happiness where it had a chance.

It still took another full year for him to leave.  It was rough - mostly because when you live together but you're not longer working on the relationship, you don't have a reason to compromise anymore.  We began living separate lives within the house - while dating others.  It wasn't fun, and I don't recommend it to anyone else.  But it's what happened.  During my time dating, I went through the gamut with what I wanted - from just sex to some sexual experimentation to feeling more confident and getting to know what men in their 40's want (vs. their 20's - when I'd last dated).  My needs began to change to wanting more of a real, long-term relationship.  And I got to understand through all this dating more of what I was actually looking for, and how men work (how they think and act).  It was HUGE, and the Donald says.  Lol.

My ex finally left on the last day of July.  I met my current dh on the last day of November.  We fell in love quickly, and I never saw a single red flag.  I saw every.single.evidence of a man who was dead serious about me, and would go out of his way to show me.  A grown-up, responsible, good man who'd been dealt some hard blows in his life, too.  I knew within about 3 weeks that I was going to marry him.  (I didn't tell HIM that, but I knew.  Lol).  We were both 41 at that point in time, and we were both fully-formed, mature people who knew ourselves well and could sense the authenticity that we were receiving from the other.  A few days shy of a year after we first me, my now dh asked me to marry him.  That was in late November.  By the end of the following July, we were married.  That was 3 years ago now this past July.  I swear to you all that we fall more in love every single day.

I'm not sure how I'd feel right now if I hadn't found this man and fallen in love.  Probably frustrated at not having found him yet.  But even before I met him, I was NOT re-hashing in my head and heart why I didn't know he was gay, or how he could have done this to me.  It happened.  I often use the analogy that we got hit by the gay asteroid - something that comes unexpectedly out of nowhere and blows up our home and sets everything ablaze.  But for me, it was more like that movie "27 Hours", where a canyoneer gets his arm caught between two boulders in an isolated slot canyon.  He knows nothing's going to change - that his arm is smashed all to hell between the boulders, and that help is not coming.  It's down to die there, or do the hard thing - cut off his own arm with a small knife to get out alive.  That's what I did.  And a solid year later, I learned that the gay asteroid was what struck the boulder and caused it to fall in the first place.  I was just glad to be free.  I didn't care about the arm anymore.  The funny thing is that eventually, most of the arm grew back unexpectedly anyway.  Who knew???

I think I found love because of my positive attitude, not the other way around.  I can tell you that I was told often during my dating phase that I was "the full package", as men are fond of saying.  That I looked good, had a great sense of humor, intelligence, had a job, was honest and forthcoming, could cook and clean, and seemed "normal".  Lol.  Seems what a 40 year-old man wants is just that - someone interesting to spend his time with whom he finds attractive and mature.  It didn't hurt that having a big ass was now in fashion.  Lol!  I also remember being told by a few men that I wasn't going to be on the market for long - that I was simply too fun and captivating to last.  I remember one man saying, "You won't be alone, Kelly.  Even if we're not for each other (and we knew we weren't but were having fun), you will never, ever be alone.  You are like sunshine - we all want you to shine on us."  It needs to be said that from my perspective, I was a middle-aged, overweight, loud, abrasive, penniless woman with a bum knee and three kids - one of whom was (and remains) severely emotionally unstable.  NOT something men would like up for, in my opinion.  So it's not that I felt like I was a prize or anything - that's not what I radiated.  But I DID believe he was still out there.  That some day, I'd find the man God made just.for.me (and vice versa).  I never gave up that hope - not since I was 15 - even throughout all my years with my ex.  I always believed that I'd find him.  And I did.  I found him on Craigslist, of all places.  It's not some romantic story where he swooped in on a white stallion and saved me.  It's the one where I believed in turning over every rock until I found a glimmer, and then digging until I unearthed a humungous diamond that no one recognized as such before.

And she lived happily ever after. 

Kel