When a Good Man Cheats
How do you respond?
There is no betrayal more damaging than infidelity. That’s my take, anyway. And according to the many women who concur having the same experience. But yet, 45% of couples will stay together after sexual and/or emotional infidelity.
After my then-husband’s disclosure, I took several months before filing for divorce. It was an excruciating process. After all, I spent most of my adult life with this man. We were just shy of our 33-year anniversary. I decided I would recommit, to be part of that 45% that stay married, but only if he was equally willing.
The separation leading up to the divorce provided the clarification I needed. He would give mild lip service to trying, but his actions showed he had already moved on. Moving on. It was time for me to do the same. I filed for divorce.
I continue to process the infidelity and the divorce. I have had enough time and distance to get down to the nitty gritty of inner healing work. If you’ve followed me in the past few years, you already know I received a breast cancer diagnosis 5 weeks after the divorce, which curtailed focusing on the emotional healing I so desperately needed.
The book, Spiritual Divorce by Debbie Ford, served as a compass through this painful wilderness. The subtitle — Divorce as a Catalyst for an Extraordinary Life offered me a tiny sliver of light.
Could I really have an extraordinary life after watching my entire identity and marriage go through an industrial paper shredder? Could I really turn ruin into renewal? A spiritual wake-up call? Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me?
Divorce was absolutely against my core values. How the hell can I embrace the idea, much less LIVE it and take action?
The first matter at hand was addressing the “til death do us part” commitment. That programming kept me spinning in circles until I realized that sometimes it is the MARRIAGE that dies. This reframe helped me to soothe the sense of betrayal from breaking my vows. (A bit ironic, yes?)
The book and the divorce retreat I attended helped me to envision how I wanted to handle the whirlwind of emotions. I didn’t want to be a bitter bitch or behave in a manner that would negatively affect our adult children.
This meant I would still honor the man that I once knew. I would recognize that he is still a good man. A good man who made some damaging decisions.
I couldn’t jump to that right away, however. I knew he was going through some deep shit, but I could no longer act as a loving, supportive wife. I was in crisis mode, and I needed to focus solely on myself. I was also seeing my unhealthy patterns in the relationship. I denied my needs in the name of giving him space and unconditional love.
At the divorce retreat, I received practical advice, starting with how to refer to a former spouse. Her recommendation to use the descriptor “was-band” or “former spouse” resonated with me. I’m not fond of the “ex” title. Dirty deeds aside, I don’t like referring to anyone as an “ex.” I know, I know. Semantics. But it supports my quest to act honorably toward him, myself and our kids.
Waaaaat? Honor? Are you kidding me? Look what he did to you!
Yep. I can hear the arguments. I’ve screeched them a time or two hundred myself.
My wasband was and is a good man. He is a good dad to our three kids. He sacrificed a lot in order to support our family.
He’s a good man who did some incredibly shitty things.
I don’t understand why he did what he did, and I probably never will. There’s plenty written on the topic, but trying to understand what triggered him to stray is no longer any of my business. I tried to grasp understanding but I will never get it. Springing divorce papers on me would have been a mercy. (Note to anyone in an unhappy marriage: an affair might be a temporary happy tonic for your misery but ffs, get a divorce before you establish another relationship.)
How can I differentiate between his actions and his true self with innate worth? Enter Ted Lasso. If you’ve not watched Ted Lasso on Apple TV, I urge you to check it out. The series is based on an optimistic American football coach who is hired to coach a struggling English soccer team.
The show beautifully blends humor and wisdom. Some of the moments are so profound, so touching, I keep tissues handy even when I know what’s going to happen. There are themes on friendships, resilience, divorce and a biggie for me…forgiveness.
The series starts with the club owner, Rebecca, hiring Ted with the sole purpose of trashing the team as an act of revenge for her narcissistic ex, Rupert. (It feels right to refer to him as the ex in this case. He is a truly awful character.)
But as she watches Ted’s positive and heart-warming interactions with everyone, her heart softens. And it doesn’t hurt that he has ended the team’s losing streak.
She knows she needs to come clean and heads down to his office. Ted is surprised to see her; she never enters the locker room.
What’s up? Ted asks.
Rebecca blurts out her confession. I wanted you to fail, she says. I wanted to hurt the only thing Rupert ever loved, and I was going to use you to do so.
Her British stiff-upper-lip give way to tears of remorse. There is a pause. How would he respond? In anger? Would he resign? Nope and nope.
She was not prepared for his response:
“I forgive you,” replies Ted.
“Why would you do that?” she asks.
Ted continues, “Divorce is hard. It doesn’t matter if you’re the one leaving or you’re the one who got left. It makes folks do crazy things.”
Oh shit, this still hits me in the feels just typing it
Ted knows what he’s talking about as his wife filed for divorce. A divorce Ted never wanted. His whole move to England was to give her space, hoping to save their marriage.
I could relate. Not excusing the was-band’s behavior, but it helped me understand that whatever midlife shit he was dealing with, he did crazy things.
I can still honor his humanity, his true self, vs crazy things he acted out.
But the writers weren’t finished with the forgiveness lessons just yet. We watch Nate, the team’s kit man and later the assistant coach, who betrays Ted in a pretty spectacular way. (Trying not to give spoilers!)
My bad angel part applauded the comeuppance that was to befall Nate. Serves him right, the little asshole.
The writers give us glimpses into Nate’s background and the wounds that fueled his toxic behaviors. And here we find another Ted-ism. It’s a quote from Walt Whitman: Be curious, not judgmental.
Instead of heaping judgement upon him, Ted understands there’s more to Nate than his egregious behavior. Ted believes the best in Nate. And as a result, Nate eventually heals and is welcomed back into the fold of the club.
Give this powerful scene a look see. And have some tissues handy.
What my was-band did is inexcusable. But there is no turning the clock back. No turning sawdust back into a 2x4.
But how do I withhold judgement versus getting curious?
I can build a case against him at every opportunity and reinforce my victim story. This course of action would only perpetuate the pain and prevent healing. How can I approach this with curiosity?
I can begin asking questions instead of passing judgement.
What happened to my former spouse that drove his destructive behavior? What pain was he trying to suppress? And a more vulnerable question on my part: How did I contribute to the demise of our happily ever after?
Again, I don’t think I will ever understand, nor will I blame my faults as the reason for his affair. If I’m to grow through this, the finger pointing must cease. Forgiveness must flow. And as the poet, John Roedel puts it, forgive like a comet is about to hit.
I feel the urgency of those words. Our time on this earth is too short and precious to allow for bitterness or dark ruminations.
Regardless of what he did, it does not negate the years of happiness we had, even if I have questioned the veracity of this. (It’s a common thing for a betrayed spouse to wonder if the relationship was a lie from the beginning.) He is worthy of love and compassion, as we all are. And even more so when we injure others, intentionally or out of ignorance.
I’m seeing the invitation to deeper love and kindness through all this.
I forgive him.
And I wish for him peace and happiness.
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