Last week I drove to the beach house by myself. Blue Eyes and I were in a bit of a spat regarding a work issue. I had done my share, it was time for him to kick in. He promised me he would, then he didn’t. It infuriated me. It was a big deal. I left him sitting on the family room sofa frantically trying to finish what he had promised. He yelled at me “I can’t do everything myself.” I thought he was joking. I know he is busy, but I had merely asked him to sign the construction contract for our new space. Construction cannot begin until he signs the doc. He’s an attorney, I am not. I had spent weeks nailing down the construction budget with our designer/architect. I have skills, but signing a multi page, large six-figure construction budget contract needed an attorney’s eyes. Just one final run through by the boss. Our in-house General Counsel was supposed to handle it, but Blue Eyes let him off the hook, so the signing fell to him. That was fine by me, but we had missed the deadline. For no good reason. I was pissed that he hadn’t signed it, and I was pissed that he was pissed. I told him I didn’t want him with me. I jumped in the car with my heart pounding about a million beats per second. I was so angry. How dare he try and turn it all back around on me.
I then stopped the car in the park a couple blocks from our house. I sat there and caught my breath. I didn’t want to drive while I was so upset. I thought maybe Blue Eyes would call me. Ask me to come back. I figured he would quickly peruse the doc and then want to go with me. He didn’t call, or text, or anything. I ended up driving to the beach house by myself. Blue Eyes and I were supposed to have stopped for dinner on the way. I didn’t want to stop. I drove through a torrential downpour on a two-lane highway over the coastal mountain range in the dark with my music blaring. I arrived to our empty beach house and got ready for bed. Blue Eyes had been wildly texting and emailing both me and the construction contractor, which was so strange and frustrating as the contract was really ready to go. He made a huge mess of things. I slept fitfully.
The next morning I had scheduled a hair color appointment in a town about 45 minutes north of the beach house… Astoria, Oregon, actually. The land of Goonies, and Dexter the lumber jack, lol. I’m now blonder than I have ever been in my life. Which isn’t very blonde to a blonde person, but to me, I’M BLONDE. Anyway, my real hair is now gray/silver, so the lighter color better matches the grow out. WIN! Truth: I’m still very much getting used to it. Normally I really enjoy my salon appointments, but this time I spent half of it frantically texting Blue Eyes about the contract as I couldn’t actually put the phone up to my ear due to hair color everywhere and he just wasn’t listening to what I was saying, typing, texting, whatever. Ugh. We finally got things settled and signed by the time I needed to make the two hour drive back to Portland.
On my drive home, I passed a spot on the highway, on the side of the road, rocks, moss, ferns, a waterfall… I remembered that spot exactly. Flashback to five years ago, I was on this same highway with Blue Eyes. Winter 2014 It was an awful drive out to check out a ranch where we were to leave our dogs during some vacations we had scheduled previous to discovery. I was in a miserable state of trauma and everything was triggering, not yet a month out from that horrifying phone call. I remember being inside my head on this day, ruminating on every conjured detail of my husband’s acting out. I remember looking at that spot on the side of the road and out of the blue asking him if he had ever taken her dog for a walk. This was a big deal to me. It was those kinds of acts that burned the most… did she make a meal for him? Did they watch a movie together at her house? Did they walk her dog together? Sex was the ultimate act of betrayal, for sure, but I could put that into the perspective of his sick addictive mind. But the mundane husband & wife kinds of things, her acting like a partner instead of a free whore, him doing husbandly duties around her house, those made my heart ache.
I remember him telling me that he never took her dog on a walk, with or without her. He never did anything around her house. She was a prolific hoarder and her house made him uncomfortable. One time her dog got out of the house and he briefly helped her look for it, but then begged off. He told me she had asked him to go find something in her car once, but her car was filled with garbage, fast food wrappers, junk, and he quickly shut the door and left. He was not there to bond, or make house. He would not be caught dead with this woman in “real life.” I remember him telling me this and me not believing him. Back then, almost nothing he said was going to convince me that there wasn’t something there besides sex, after eight long years of an intermittent relationship with this woman, first at her house, then in hotels around the world. How could that be?
Now I know. It just is. He was willing to go to really grotesque lengths to feed his addiction and that woman was at the heart of the beast. What hit me about driving by that particular spot and having that flashback was that I wasn’t actually thinking about something he had done within his addiction or something he had done to betray me, but in fact, I was looking back to an actual memory, post discovery. The memory wasn’t a trigger. It didn’t bother me. It made me think. First, it must have thrown Blue Eyes for a loop… of all the things he did do, taking her dog on a walk would probably seem quite benign to him. But mainly, how far I’ve come that even on my worst days my chest doesn’t seize up anymore. Tears rarely spill from my eyes. I never go to that place where nothing can get through. I don’t sit in my closet. I don’t hide from the world and no spot on the highway, or song on the radio, or city in the world can take me back to that horribly traumatic space in my head. I’m over it. So even though I still struggle with my recovering sex addict husband, and sometimes I still feel a bit melancholy that my story is drastically altered, and I have to acknowledge the fact that I was betrayed…
I’m okay.
try not to cry on my rainbow 
It’s quite amazing, how, with hard freaking work, the time to do it, and willingness to “go there” and process it, we can and do heal. Trauma is a beast, but that doesn’t mean it’s a beast which will 100% kill us. We are reminded just how strong we are, and we use that strength to heal ourselves and to generously share our gifts with others, now through a different lens.
I know that there will always be work for me to do, I am still on my journey, and this is a long process, but frankly, I’m amazed at how some things just don’t trigger me anymore after 3 years out. Some things still do (like ribbed vacuum-type hoses, empty psychotic eyes, and more), but I can continue facing that work, and I know I’ll improve more.
It’s our power. You’ve got this. You’ve got YOURSELF.
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❤️
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I LOVE Goonies and Dexter. I really need to get to Oregon. All the photos I’ve seen are beautiful.
I was thinking the other day about how much his betrayal has hurt. It is a permanent scar. I also thought that I don’t want to live the rest of my life with it on my shoulders. It takes time and a hell of alot of work but I believe we can all work through it and come out the other side healed. Scarred, yes. But we can heal. I’m happy for you first where you are in your journey. Being able to sit with the betrayal and not completely fall apart is amazing.
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Yes, come to Oregon! I honestly never realized people loved The Goonies so much until I started this blog. People from around the world know about the Goonies, lol.
I guess with my husband, one of the things that has allowed me to stay is knowing that he did not do what he did to be cruel. He did it because he has wounds that allowed him to be that selfish and hurtful, but his intent was not to hurt me. If that makes sense. We are all imperfect beings. Now I just ask him to please think of me when he is making his decisions. Think BEFORE he does things… does he think it will hurt me in any way? Then please don’t do it. He tries really hard to remember how badly his selfish acts hurt me and our boys. Work in progress. xoxo
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My daughter is almost 9 and not a fan of Goonies. It breaks my heart. My sister and quote that movie all the time. Oregon is definitely on my bucket list. I’ve been to CA countless times. But never gone north. I want to explore Vancouver and BC as well.
I get it. My husband isn’t an addict but his actions came from a place of intense pain. Reminds me of the saying “hurt people hurt people”. He was broken. Partially because of our relationship. Partly because of his own issues and FOO problems. He was depressed. And spending all his time with his former business partner who is a serial cheater. Outside of his affair, I believe he is a good guy. He has shown me his capacity for goodness and love. The few people that know he cheated were completely shocked. Its confusing and complicated to love someone who broke you. To see the good in someone who did so many bad things.
BE seems to try his best for what it’s worth. He is a flawed human and screws up for sure. But he’s trying. I’m like you that as long as I see effort and growth I’m willing to stay.
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Goonies is a silly movie. Yes, sad as it is, hurt people do hurt people. I do understand. It’s just that when they are hurting me and my children in such a profound way, shock takes over for a while I think. What really matters is how you feel, about him, about keeping the family unit together, about your own happiness. Mostly I try to block out the other noise. Only you know what works for you, and each day brings new challenges, but also new strength and healing! 🤗
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I believe that you’re okay, and I know how strong you must be to have arrived at that point. (’cause going through this ish sure an’t easy…) It gives me some hope that I’ll get there one day too.
And, as a woman with half silver/ half brown natural hair (I can’t even go naturally silver yet because I’d have to dye the brown splotches silver… so I’d be paying to age myself), I heartily welcome you to the blonde-ish club. Like you, I’m not Lady Gaga blonde, but I’m covers-the-silver-better-than-anything-else blonde. Welcome to the club! ❤️
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So, as my hair is growing, I can clearly see that I still have some brown hairs as well. The blonde is possibly making it more visible, versus making the grays less visible, if that makes sense. I’ll have to discuss this with the stylist. She went really close to the roots with the lighter colors as she wanted to see what it looked like with grow out. I think I will suggest we go a little dark near the roots. Some of the ends are very blonde though, and I like that.
I can see how strong you are as well, and I guess some things will just depend on whether our husbands have it in them to not only remain sober, stay active in recovery, but also give up this idea that somehow we have something to do with their success or failure. Whether we stay or leave, they still need to deal with their addiction. Earlier on especially, I felt like Blue Eyes used our marriage as an excuse for not being able to manage recovery the way he would like. Omar & T also suggested a separation period so that we could each focus on ourselves. I was having none of it. I just felt from the beginning if he wasn’t able to work on himself and think about me at the same time, he never would be able to. xo
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You are totally okay girlie, you got this.
We both know when a person feels down, we think awful thoughts. Thoughts are just visitors. Acknowledge them and let them pass (yeah, totally easier said than done).
You as a blonde, totally Miami 😜♥️🌞
Can’t wait to see you!!!
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Airfare and hotel, booked!!! ✅
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Yaaaaaay get your fat pants ready!!!!
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ALL my pants are fat pants! 🤪
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It’s funny when you get to that point: it just is what it is…. i remember sitting in Tankerton, the seaside town where Rich used to meet her, having a beer with Rich on a sunny afternoon, 4 years after The War. It was a place of massive triggers for me, but by that time I had found myself, moved on to a new life and it just didn’t matter to me, in my new life that I had created, anymore. It happened, that can never be undone, and I realised that it would always be there in the background. That’s it, it will always be there, and then when you know that, it becomes a shadow that can’t bite you on the arse anymore!
You got this.
Moisy ❤️
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Absolutely! WE got this! 💜
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