The Long Back Story

     For most of the marriage I believed I was taking care of him,  he never communicated any needs that were not being met. I talked, shared, vented, and praised. He was quiet, rarely opening up about anything.
      I met Matt when I was 17, I had a baby from a boyfriend in high school, at this point. I was an interesting mix of maturity, naivete, and raw sexuality. A friend introduced us and I thought he was adorable, but too quiet. I am realizing now, how important it is to listen to that little inner voice. We began to date and just a few months later he asked me to marry him. He was slightly intoxicated, so I checked with him again the next day. A few months after that we were married, all together 6 months after meeting, as teenagers, we made a serious commitment. At some point I will write a whole post on why no one stopped a 17 and 19 year old from making a legal commitment to each other, but not now.      I had always wanted to be a wife and mother.   I cooked and cleaned, birthed and breastfed; I was satisfied. I had two more children, bringing our family to 5. He worked in the US Airforce and loved his job. Our time together was spent playing with our kids. Looking back I wish we had spent time developing our relationship in the early years. As the children grew, we began snowboarding together, later, we took up biking. I loved our shared interests and felt as though we were finally building a connection. At the end of our marriage, I found out he felt he never had anything of his own and no free time. However, again he never communicated these feelings to me.
     We hit a few incredibly rough patches. I was diagnosed at 19 with a degenerative bone disease. I went through several surgeries over the next 5 years, one of which included complications and a 2 week hospitalization. When he left the military, he fell into a depression and was unemployed for a short time. He got a new job 5 months later, but never seemed to enjoy it as much as when he worked on planes. We bought a home and unfortunately went into foreclosure a little over a year later. We went through some very difficult times raising our daughter, the oldest of three children, which left us bitter and divided. All these stresses pushed us beyond anything we had ever experienced. We had no skills to weather the storms; I yelled and he never communicated. However, we always seemed to find a peace and playfulness again.
     During our 6th year, he cheated. He never had sex with the woman he claims, but he had an emotional connection and an ongoing email relationship where I love you's were exchanged frequently. One day I was on his computer and came across some emails. When I approached him about the relationship, he lied. I told him I had proof, he still lied. I began crying and threw copies of all their correspondence down in front of him. Believe it or not he still lied. I should have realized then and there, that we had a huge problem, but I was young and in what I though, t was love. He held onto his lies a bit longer, I yelled and screamed and the truth finally came out. That was the first time I used my voice in a way that even scared me. I realized that if I yelled enough I got the truth, this stayed with me through our whole marriage.
     We had a several good years, and I believed we had a strong marriage. Looking back I see a few cracks, but still feel sideswiped by his confession of unhappiness. I am the type of person who shares my feelings easily and freely. I expected that he would do the same. This was wrong. During these years, I continued to focus on being a "good" housewife and mother. I prided myself on delicious meals, a clean house, family activities, and attention  to his needs. during our separation, he would say things that floored me because I had always tried my hardest to lift him up with words and actions. Yet, it didn't matter if I had lovingly  told him 1,000 things that he was good at, all he could remember was the one time I yelled about something he didn't do. I always apologized for yelling, but never showed the self control I should have. I became riddled with guilt about yelling, but couldn't find the motivation to stop. I yelled because it got results, I know, it was horrible to continue, yet it is the truth.
     Then in 2011, he lost his job. He was laid off, we never saw it coming. It rocked him to the core. He cried and raged. Things got better for a few months, we were collecting enough from unemployment to survive. He threw himself into family life. We skateboarded as a family, rode bikes, joined the Y, juggled and hula hooped, and played games. Things were amazing. Then we opened our marriage to date a friend of mine. Again, a later post can focus on that interesting tale. He began smoking pot during this whole ordeal, and one puff a day turned into one bowl, which turned into more.  After six months on unemployment, I began confronting him, yelling about looking for work. He ignored my worries and resisted communications. This went on for about 7 months, until I finally gave him an ultimatum. Our unemployment was about to run out, we had cashed out our 401k; the money was dwindling fast. In Feb 2013 I said " find a job or I leave." I gave him 4 weeks, he did nothing. He barely even looked for work. I left, this lasted a few days and then I went back.
     In the most stupid move ever, we played with some close friends of ours. Matt and her enjoyed each other a lot. They were together multiple times with my permission, and with everything I was going through I was unable to cope. I felt alone and jealousy took hold fast. I shared these feelings with him, but not her. One night, we three began to play, except I was mainly on the sidelines. Within the hour I was overcome with jealousy and worry. Her husband was not home and had not been told of our play time. I whispered in my partners ear, asking him to please stop, he did not. I then asked the two of them to stop, they did not. I finally left the room, letting them know in a frustrated tone that I wanted them to stop. They did momentarily and by the time I reached the livingrooom all I could hear, echoing from the hall, was her moaning. I raced back to the room to find them back at it. I burst into tears and in that moment the most intense anger towards him set in. The disrespect I felt in that moment has stuck with me. I admit that when I speak to him sometimes, it comes through loud and clear.
     After that whole ordeal, I asked that we close our marriage. He agreed, but not for long. Before too long, I eventually gave my permission to play with another friend, knowing it would make him happy. My self worth had plummeted and I allowed myself to do something I didn't feel comfortable doing, which of course led to more resentment. I cried constantly, yet continued to tell him with words that it was ok. I wanted him to know that it wasn't ok by paying attention to my tears and anger. I was dumb. One day the threesome turned into a twosome, when he asked to be with her without me. With tears streaming down my face, I said yes and off he went. I lay in our bed crying uncontrollably until he returned an hour later. Standing in front of me in his blue bath robe, with a huge smile on his face, he told me he enjoyed himself.
     Somewhere inside me I knew my marriage was over. I began reading things on self worth and healing. I started journaling and dancing. I began to pull away. I was focusing on me, for the first time in years. I attended parties, I bought myself clothing that I felt beautiful in, I delved into chakra and energy studies, and enrolled in school. All the while allowing my anger and disappointment with him to grow. I was short with him and showed very little warmth. We lived together, but I had moved on and it felt like he was doing the same.
     In August, I went away for a week to enjoy a festival. He made the decision to stay behind. When I returned I found that he had spent every night in a friend of mines bed and slept with her twice. He was not forthcoming with this info. It took yelling and threatening to go ask her,which I had to do. When the truth came out I fell apart. The next month was spent slinging verbal sacks of shit at each other. I quickly switched back and forth between sobbing and screaming. He flipped flopped daily between wanting to work it out and being done.
     We both played a role in the breakdown of our marriage. Our last two years were more painful for both of us than I want to admit. Forgiving myself and him, has been an uphill climb.