My Husband's Affair Became the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me (31 page)

A poem dedicated to every teenager who has hurt so deeply that they have contemplated suicide.

A Stranger

I was sitting in the park one day
Trying to find an easy way,
To ease the pain I felt inside
That’s when I thought of suicide.
I knew I couldn’t live another day
If I had to live my life this way,
Then suddenly a man appeared
He said, “Do you mind if I sit here?”
I nodded yes, my head hung low
Wondering, should I stay or go?
The stranger turned to me and stared
He said, “I know you ‘re really scared.”
What kind of man must you be
That can see the pain inside of me?
He said, “I know this look you have today,
I once looked the very same way.”
He said, “Your train’s come off the track,
Let me help you put it back.
Reach way down inside yourself
Find the strength to get some help.”
And when he turned and walked away,
I knew he saved my life that day!

THERESA KLAVER, A PERSONAL FRIEND
FIRST TIME PUBLISHED

CHAPTER 19
Let
the fights
Begin 

SEPTEMBER, 2 0 00

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference.

REINHOLD NIEBUHR

With all the terrible events that transpired in our lives that summer, life went on. We made it through the months, numb, living in fear, not really working on our relationship. Brian and I took time to go on some dates, and we had some good times as a family. We needed opportunities to escape from all the seriousness and pain. We needed to experience that life could still be fun together. But there were still problems we had to resolve.

Finally September came and the thirteen-week marriage growth

group began. I went into the group with a positive attitude and high hopes that this would be the answer for our marriage. After all, it was the only outside help Brian was willing to seek.

The first session already presented challenges. It was about the wedding vows. One of the first activities involved looking deeply into your partner’s eyes, while a love song was played on the leading couple’s stereo.

While all the other couples looked so happy, I was thinking
Brian’s not committed to me. We’re not really married anymore, because he nullified our wedding vows.
I wanted to cry. Although we were studying the vows, re-saying the words to each other was not part of the agenda. I wish it had been. I needed this reaffirmation from Brian. Since it was a group, the study dealt with common issues, not specific needs. Brian refused to reaffirm the vows to me, since, as he explained, he didn’t mean it when he nullified them.

The wedding vows just aren’t the type of thing you can go around saying and retracting and reinstating at your leisure. I was still very stuck on this issue. Throughout the summer, I had done everything I could to win back Brian’s affections, but now, the pain of what Brian had done was starting to sink in. I began to question whether or not I still wanted to be married to him after all.

We came home from our first group meeting with homework. Our assignment was about our wedding vows, and so we fought.

Instead of answering the questions, Brian wrote in giant letters across the page
I STILL MEAN THE WEDDING VOWS.
He yelled the words at me while he wrote them out. Somehow this did not meet the need I had for reassurance. I cried and hoped the next week would be better.

In mid-September, Brian finally had a much needed holiday from his work. Because our kids were in school, we couldn’t get away. Instead, we hoped to spend time golfing, relaxing and pursuing other recreational activities together.

However, we were now fighting all the time, because we were

beginning to deal with the issues in our relationship. Brian told me that all throughout our marriage he had listened to me talk about my feelings, but that I hadn’t listened to him.

So now it was my turn to listen, apparently. I was to listen without becoming defensive or trying to explain myself. Rather, when Brian spoke, he wanted me to understand him, to see things from his perspective and to comprehend his feelings. He felt that if I really cared, I would ask him “why” questions to understand him further, rather than answer right away with my side of the story. This I was not doing very well. My emotional pain was very intense, my heart was broken, and now I was to hear about all the things I did wrong in this marriage! Why really, according to him, the affair was my fault!

“The reason why I had an affair and you never have,” he said, “is because I have been a very good husband. Therefore you didn’t need to have an affair, but because you haven’t been a very good wife, I had an affair.” Those unfair words pierced my already broken heart. I was speechless, out of breath. I felt as if I had been stabbed again.

What fault in a person could justify their partner’s unfaithfulness?
I wondered.
Unfaithfulness is never the fault of the faithful partner. How can I be responsible for something, if I didn’t get to participate in the choice of whether or not to do it? All spouses have faults, but those faults do not force the other spouse to have an affair. There are healthy and constructive ways to deal with unhappiness in a marriage. Bad things happen to all of us. How we react to the negative circumstances in our lives is our choice.

So Brian was determined to tell me all about my faults. He said again that I never listened to him. He said I had been a controlling wife. He said I didn’t admire and respect him.

When I tried to tell him that I did admire and respect him, he said that I wasn’t listening again. He told me that Helen listened to him. And again, he told me I was too serious and no fun.

In an effort to be a fun mate, I planned an outing to a football game with Brian. I was determined to be fun like Helen.

I dressed sexily for our outing: tight-fitting black pants and a snug top made from a beautiful leopard skin print. Brian took me to a very nice Italian restaurant in Vancouver before the game, and I tried to be funny (like Helen apparently was). Only there was a big problem with this: I am not usually naturally funny. I tried desperately to be someone that I’m not-never a recipe for success. My attempts at humor and “fun-ness” fell flat. Apparently I was downright irritating.

“You’re not fun like Helen was,” Brian informed me.

“What made Helen so funny?” I asked reeling from the sting of his words. “What did you two laugh about when you were together?”

He thought for a moment and then told me they laughed about how funny it would be if certain people found out they were together.

I envisioned Brian and Helen meeting secretly in a restaurant, laughing and joking around, having so much fun saying,
Wouldn’t that be hilarious if your wife found out?

This vision was depressing. We went from dinner to the football game, but I failed to have a good time, thinking about Brian and Helen laughing at me. (I was not one of the “certain people” they laughed about, but when Brian told me this, I made this false assumption.)

The next day I phoned Brian’s friend, Darrell Barnes, for advice. He was stunned by Brian’s words.

“Anne, that’s ridiculous,” he said. “That was cruel. Listen, Anne, you don’t have to become a stand-up comedian in order for Brian to love you. Just be yourself.”

What a relief to hear those words. Finally, I began to see that I was not the only one making mistakes.

As Brian and I continued on, both of us were, in our own way, putting one hundred percent effort into our relationship. One of the big things Brian was doing to heal our marriage was taking me out for dinner and coffee often, where he openly discussed the affair

and our marriage, and answered all of my questions. He knew I needed to talk about things, and he facilitated these essential discussions even though it was very painful for him to face the pain and his failure. It would have been much easier for him to tell me I should just “get over it” like other unfaithful spouses often do, but then we would never have healed.

But in spite of the effort on both our parts, we faced many hurdles.

Brian’s court date came and went, with a resulting fine and a suspension of his license for a year. This left Danielle and I taking turns getting up at 6:00 AM to drive a full hour to Brian’s work and an hour back, only to turn around and repeat the process in the afternoon. We also found ourselves doing all of the errands for the family. We took the younger kids to their activities, got the milk from the store and rented the videos.

“Drive in this lane,” Brian would direct. “Park in that spot, pass that car.”

I tried to be patient with my “backseat” driver, but finally he sent me over the edge.

“You know, for years I have been driving and I have been perfectly capable of getting from point A to point B safely,” I said. “Also, when you’re not in the car, I never have any difficulty choosing a parking place.”

All this driving was frustrating for me, and I could see that it was nearly killing him to be chauffeured around by his wife. But in some ways, we benefited from all the driving together: we each had a captive audience and were forced to work through some of our issues. Many times I found myself in tears. Still, we had to drive together again the next day.

In between all the fighting, Brian was treating me like a queen. Our lives were a paradox. He took me out on dates and to nice restaurants several times a week. Fortunately his business was prospering and finances were not a challenge for us.

He romanced me, opened the door for me and treated me with respect. On several occasions he took me out to a shopping mall. We went together into some of the ladies fashion stores, where he and I would pick out a large assortment of clothing for me. Then one by one I would try them on while he patiently waited.

“That looks great,” he would often say. “You look amazing. You look beautiful. We’re going to buy that one for sure. I’m lucky to have a wife like you.”

Trying on all these beautiful clothes and being complimented again and again by Brian lifted me tremendously. He insisted that we buy most of the clothes I tried on, and he chose many items for me which I would have been too timid to try myself.

Over the course of several months, I acquired an entire new wardrobe. Being pampered like this was like applying healing medicine to a life threatening disease.

Buying me gifts was Brian’s way of telling me he loved me. He wanted to make it up to me for what he had done. He wanted to comfort and encourage me, and make me feel special again. He also took me on special outings, to live theatre performances, the famous Abbotsford Airshow and on a family whitewater rafting adventure as well as including me in his recreation. We started weightlifting at the gym together.

Danielle: Mom and Dad had made a decision to work things out and stay together. This is what I thought I wanted. But now life at home was a nightmare for me. I no longer respected my dad and definitely had not forgiven him. After walking out and abandoning us, he now had the nerve to try and tell me what to do (hard enough to take when I loved and respected him).

My parents fought and fought. It was difficult to be home for any amount of time and not burst into tears. I never let them see me cry though. When I was crying and I felt like I needed to talk, I would scream at them instead. I was not going to let them know how much they had hurt me.

I was losing my mind. My Dad had hurt me so bad, I was never going to trust him again. I was never going to forgive him. He didn’t even seem sorry. I think he would have liked it if I disappeared forever. Why, you ask? Because Mom seemed so dumb, so needy and she was so forgiving, wanting everything to work out. I was not about to forget about my Dad deciding he didn’t love us anymore and deciding he wanted to leave. I wanted him to suffer.

Mom and Dad would fight and fight, yet then go out for fancy dinners and buy new clothes. They even bought a fancy new van. I was happy for my mom, but no one asked me how I felt. No one bought me anything. I spent so much time helping Mom, for what? Nothing. I probably wouldn’t have told them the truth about how hurt I was if they did ask, but it would have made me feel like they cared.

My boyfriend Jason was the only person I talked to about what happened. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone else. Even though he was an amazing listener, he didn’t know what to do. He bought my mom flowers to cheer her up when my dad left. I thought it was so sweet, but she didn’t really notice. I felt like I had no one besides Jason to care about me. My parents definitely did not care one little bit. Otherwise, they would have talked to me. Jason told me that I should talk to someone, but who? There was no one, so I would cry and cry.