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Feb. 12th D-Day: A year later
Feb. 12th D-Day: A year later “Write your own story Create your own legend Love your own way” From Ethical Slut You know, for a lifestyle that would be outward looking; that would be about including and expanding one’s ‘circle of friends’, one still has to do a lot of looking inward in the process… It’s been exactly one year since my personal D-Day happened. Has been much change? Where do I stand now? Where do we stand now, as a couple? What’s changed? What’s stayed the ? EVERYTHING. At least from my perspective. ’s been a lot of decision making and choices: at first was, do I stay or leave? Move in with a friend or go where my family is? What about my ? What about work? What about what I’d be leaving? Do I walk away from what I started? Throughout our marriage, most of our troubles have been about finances and, of course, sex. We are just getting the point of getting over bad financial decisions; paying off mortgages; being able forward planning ahead do things we’ve always wanted do (travel) and pursue our passions (music and art). Did I really want start over? I guess the real question I had ask myself in those first days was: are things bad enough overall leave? Or can we do what makes us happy within the framework we now have? Most people would probably have thrown the out with the bath water when learning of their partner’s infidelity. But if ’s one thing I’ve learned in life is that life is not about all/or nothing, either/ or, black/ or white, right/ or wrong [i.e., I’m right and you, you are certainly all wrong!] It’s more about both/ and. For me, it involved owning up the fact that takes two make a relationship work, and takes two make fail. Each person is culpable. Each person has a piece of the blame own up . Each person gets decide what they want out of . were other factors. Nurturing sort that I am, I knew involved more than just me: I had my consider. He’s a bit slow launch and would be devastating him if either of us moved out. We are a small but tight family; like a three-legged stool, ’s a balance . ’s also the hubs consider…I had started something, my own something [a business]; did I really want put on the hubs have finish or “clean up” my mess? That was my very shaky start into a choice and a lifestyle I never would’ve said ‘yes’ to in years prior. The easiest question to answer: am I better off now than I was a year ago? HELL YES I AM! My mind has become more flexible, though my body hasn’t, lol. My mental gymnastics have included going from “I hate the bitch” to the realization that lots of great men had muses were not necessarily their wives. I still hate the bitch, and I have some resentment that she is the artistic muse or inspiration in his life; but I would never wish her any ill will. In retrospect, I’ve always been a part of the women that inspired his songwriting! I realize that she hasn’t had all the information, a full disclosure from the hubs any more than I have. As a result, she jumped conclusions that either the hubs fed into or just never clarified his position enough; perhaps for fear he would lose a playmate, and for him, as with most our age, hard to find. Besides, he can be a kind of “let it ride” guy in those situations. I have learned to accept this lifestyle choice without jealousy. Now, that’s a HUGE thing for me. Having always labeled myself as a tempered, passionate Spanish Senorita, I’ve always been a competitive type of person, inwardly anyway. So a jealous streak can go hand in hand with that kind of internal comparison. Of late, I’ve been able accept his seeing her on a regular basis without snarkiness or sarcasm. It took a while to get , but part of was realizing what I had done him over the years. By rejecting sex, I had been rejecting him. What that must have done him! So, if this woman [or others] can make him smile, I can handle that…I can share. I told him a few months ago that as long as we’re intact, I’m good. The external parts of a marriage actually help the marriage stay intact. Seems backwards, I know, but I believe that to be true. For the men I’ve met, seems have made them happier and less combative or resentful at home. For us, has been more of a help our sex life this past year. And more sex with each other, brings more communication in other aspects of our life together. Don’t get me wrong, we still have our little secrets…someone on here once said that we should keep some secrets. I believe honesty is not always full disclosure. But its disclosure enough to make this work. Overall, I would say this year has been one of “unlearning” possession, and learning to love without conditions…well, mostly, anyway. That’s where I sit exactly one year later. I’ll let you know what Year Two brings. ~~~" Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift." --Mary Oliver~~~ |
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It's been awhile, I know. “Write your own story Create your own legend Love your own way” From Ethical Slut You know, for a lifestyle that would be outward looking; that would be about including and expanding one’s ‘circle of friends’, one still has to do a lot of looking inward in the process… It’s been exactly one year since my personal D-Day happened. Has there been much change? Where do I stand now? Where do we stand now, as a couple? What’s changed? What’s stayed the same? EVERYTHING. At least from my perspective. It’s been a lot of decision making and choices: at first it was, do I stay or leave? Move in with a friend or go where my family is? What about my son? What about work? What about what I’d be leaving? Do I walk away from what I started? Throughout our marriage, most of our troubles have been about finances and, of course, sex. We are just getting to the point of getting over bad financial decisions; paying off mortgages; being able to look forward to planning ahead to do things we’ve always wanted to do (travel) and to pursue our passions (music and art). Did I really want to start over? I guess the real question I had to ask myself in those first days was: are things bad enough overall to leave? Or can we do what makes us happy within the framework we now have? Most people would probably have thrown the baby out with the bath water when learning of their partner’s infidelity. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life is that life is not about all/or nothing, either/ or, black/ or white, right/ or wrong [i.e., I’m right and you, you are certainly all wrong!] It’s more about both/ and. For me, it involved owning up to the fact that it takes two to make a relationship work, and it takes two to make it fail. Each person is culpable. Each person has a piece of the blame to own up to. Each person gets to decide what they want out of it. There were other factors. Nurturing sort that I am, I knew it involved more than just me: I had my son to consider. He’s a bit slow to launch and It would be devastating to him if either of us moved out. We are a small but tight family; like a three-legged stool, there’s a balance there. There’s also the hubs to consider…I had started something, my own something [a business]; did I really want to put it on the hubs to have finish or “clean up” my mess? That was my very shaky start into a choice and a lifestyle I never would’ve said ‘yes’ to in years prior. The easiest question to answer: am I better off now than I was a year ago? HELL YES I AM! My mind has become more flexible, though my body hasn’t, lol. My mental gymnastics have included going from “I hate the bitch” to the realization that lots of great men had muses who were not necessarily their wives. I still hate the bitch, and I have some resentment that she is the artistic muse or inspiration in his life; but I would never wish her any ill will. In retrospect, I’ve always only been a part of the women that inspired his songwriting! I realize that she hasn’t had all the information, a full disclosure from the hubs any more than I have. As a result, she jumped to conclusions that either the hubs fed into or just never clarified his position enough; perhaps for fear he would lose a playmate, and for him, as with most our age, hard to find. Besides, he can be a kind of “let it ride” guy in those situations. I have learned to accept this lifestyle choice without jealousy. Now, that’s a HUGE thing for me. Having always labeled myself as a hot tempered, passionate Spanish Senorita, I’ve always been a competitive type of person, inwardly anyway. So a jealous streak can go hand in hand with that kind of internal comparison. Of late, I’ve been able to accept his seeing her on a regular basis without snarkiness or sarcasm. It took a while to get there, but part of it was realizing what I had done to him over the years. By rejecting sex, I had been rejecting him. What that must have done to him! So, if this woman [or others] can make him smile, I can handle that…I can share. I told him a few months ago that as long as we’re intact, I’m good. The external parts of a marriage actually help the marriage stay intact. Seems backwards, I know, but I believe that to be true. For the men I’ve met, it seems to have made them happier and less combative or resentful at home. For us, it has been more of a help to our sex life this past year. And more sex with each other, brings more communication in other aspects of our life together. Don’t get me wrong, we still have our little secrets…someone on here once said that we should keep some secrets. I believe honesty is not always full disclosure. But its disclosure enough to make this work. Overall, I would say this year has been one of “unlearning” possession, and learning to love without conditions…well, mostly, anyway. That’s where I sit exactly one year later. I’ll let you know what Year Two brings. ~~~" Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift." --Mary Oliver~~~
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So nice to hear from you again. Hope year two brings more progress, and ummm - "Happy Anniversary"? I Can Do This An Early Valentines Day Gift for You, on HNW Does Anybody Else Feel This Way [post 3312759] My Private Blog - Tell Me ALL Your Secrets
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It could have all gone the other way but I'm glad that you're actually better off in the circumstances. You'll be okay
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If you haven't read it: here's the story about my D-Day 2/12/2020 It began simply enough. After 30+ years of accumulation it was time to clean up. Boxes and bins that had been forgotten in our shed were beginning to see the light of day. We were making headway, so when he asked me to go through one more box while he napped that afternoon, I grabbed it and began the sorting between keep and discard. Most of it was art supplies given to me by others that I knew I would never use and tossed them out. They were in a box within a box and as I removed the now empty one to recycle, I didn’t recognize what was under it. Supplies, yes. But of a totally different kind! Dildoes and strap-ons, like dozens of them greeted me, their hard siicone shafts resembled a surrealist’s still life! As I looked, shock began its climb up my spine; it was then that I found a receipt for the Marriott not even a mile from us. I stood stunned for a moment, silently studying how I would approach my husband when he woke from his nap. Would I yell? Would I cry, and stammer “HHHHow could you?’ Instead, as he woke from his sleep I asked him if he was awake and then said, “Good. We need to talk.” I told him: a. what just happened b. what I had stumbled across, and c. what the FUCK?!! He was up and awake now. Eyes wide, he glared at me and with full force he said, “Look! You haven’t been available for years…years! You’ve shut me out. You have all your friends to hang out with and you’re satisfied with that. I just figured that’s what you wanted, but I wanted more, so I went looking for it.” As I heard his words, I didn’t yell. I listened. I remained quiet as the knife went into my heart. For some insane reason, as his words poured out, and I felt the silent stabs wounding me over and over, I simply nodded my head and said, “I understand”. (Shit!...34 years!!!) “And, did you find it?” (34 Fucking years!!!) “Yeah, I did”. “How many?” “How many what?” he snapped. [Seriously, like pulling teeth to get answers!] “How many women? How many times?” I asked quietly. I mean, did I really want to know?? More stabbing, more wounds. “5 or 6. I met 5 or 6. Hooked up with 3.” I swallowed hard, taking this all in. He’s FUCKED 3 women??? Oh! My! God! He went on to say that he thought at one time of leaving me, of getting a divorce, but then I got sick, and he thought he couldn’t divorce me, I’d have no insurance. Wow! He’d stay out of pity for me? FUUUCK! I was devastated! Crushed as I looked at the reality smacking me hard in the face: a divorce! Never did I ever think that would happen to us! I mean, I’d thought about the possibility before, during the hardest times, but never the probability of it! He said that maybe we’d just live our separate lives: I’d go live with my sister in Arizona or move back to Portland to stay at my best friend’s house and he’d, well, he’d go on fucking the world, I guess. Neither of those options sounded good to me…crawling back to family or friends with their pitying looks and protective shoulders to cry on? Trying to start over after all these years??! No…oh Hell no!! I decided right then and there that I was not going to be a victim in all this. I also didn’t want to hear anyone disparage him. In spite of these revelations, I realized I still loved him. My friends loved him; I didn’t want to have my friends and family pick sides. I knew I had a hand in this. I owned up to my culpability in the choices that were made. He was right, I had neglected him and his needs. I’m sure many, many folks have gone through or are going through their dry seasons of no sex. Ours was a drought that lasted longer than the one in California! For one reason or another, I had dried up to sex. Poof! Gone! Dust in the wind, baby. I didn’t want it, didn’t feel it, just couldn’t do it. I realized I had slowly become “The Ice Queen”. My southern regions were like the frozen tundra. At that point, I could’ve kicked myself, but I wouldn’t have felt it I was so numb. I could only work on breathing. In. Out In. Out. I left the house. I drove to the pier and just started walking. I was supposed to have dinner with a friend. One of those friends who enjoyed my husband. I used to watch their harmless flirting with one another and was amuse…WAIT?! Shit! How harmless was it?! My mind raced, imagining all kinds of scenarios, recalling words and phrases; how comfortable they were with each other, liking much of the same things that I would [sorry to say] only tolerate. OMG! What if??? Nah! Couldn’t be, I thought. I quickly put it out of my mind and tried to concentrate on how I would get through the dinner with her. I kept walking; the salt air did me good. Strange, but I didn’t cry like I’d imagined I would. My eyes teared a little. My heart ached, but no tears. Just numb. So incredibly, stupidly numb. She caught me once during dinner, staring out into the night sky. She asked me what was wrong. I quickly became present again, and joined in our conversation. Other than that moment of willing myself back into the conversation, I cannot recall one thing about that dinner, not one. I couldn’t bring myself to go into our bedroom, so I slept on the couch that night. I stared at the ceiling most of the night…thinking. And thinking. What next? What the fuck do I do next?? ~~~" Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift." --Mary Oliver~~~
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2/17/2021 12:23 pm |
It reminds me of my divorce in 2003! Please become an Apollo602021 blog follower!
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