I’m approaching the one year mark of D-Day. Unlike most BS I don’t actually remember the exact day. I know that it was within the first week of September 2014. I didn’t want to give a date that much power over me. A day that will always be seeded in my memory in a negative way. I suppose it was my first act of survival.
I’ve been reflecting alot on how far I’ve come this past year. I’ve read some much needed reminders that healing has no timeline. No set path. No standards to follow. Its not one size fits all. Its a unique journey for all of us. As unique as each of us. There are dangers in trying to compare how “healed” you are vs someone else.
I am proud of how far I’ve come since September 2014. I am stronger. More confident. Unwilling to be mistreated. I know my worth. I demand to be heard and respected. I also don’t take things personally anymore. I don’t dwell on negative things. I’ve learned to let go of ALOT. I handle triggers like a champ. I’ve learned to let go of my need to control everything. I’ve learned that sometimes good people do horrible, disgusting things. That hurt like fucking hell. But, just as my mistakes and the bad things I’ve done don’t define me – others aren’t defined by their mistakes and poor choices either (except in the case of people that repeatedly act like an asshole and make no attempt to change). It doesn’t make their choices acceptable or right. Its just that they are human too. I have the choice of how I live my life. I get to choose how I react to those around me. And I am so damn proud of the way I’ve reacted to my husband’s affair. Its a good feeling knowing that I’ve handled myself in a way that is true to myself. I haven’t degraded myself. I haven’t stooped to anyone’s level. I can hold my head high and know that I didn’t cause any damage. Even though I would have gotten many free passes for “acting out”, I didn’t. I have no judgement towards anyone that has behaved different. Like I said, we are all unique and all have our own path. This is what works for me. Early on I knew revenge wouldn’t make me feel better. Ruining him and her would feel good for a minute. But then what am I left with? A bitter hatred that will eventually destroy me and my children. I’ve had enough taken from me, I’m not giving more. I’m not offering up my happiness. My peace. My sense of self worth. My love for myself. Nobody gets those ever again. They are for me. So, holding to my standards of morals and ethics keeps me grounded. It keeps me – ME.
I’m still confused. I still have doubts. I still have triggers. I still wonder what lies I haven’t uncovered. I still get pissed. I still have pain. I still wonder at what point will I look at my husband and only see him and not what he’s done. I still cry when I need to. I still don’t know if my marriage will survive. The good news is that these fears and emotions don’t control me as they once did. I have laughter in every day now. I know my life isn’t over. I know there will be a happy ending. Not because I believe in fairy tales, but because I’ve learned that I create my own ending. I create my own destiny. I create the kind of life I want to have. I’ve taken ownership for my own life. My actions. My emotions. I can’t always control what I feel, but I can always control how I act and react.