The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, blossoms are popping, it’s spring in Portland. I’m doing some cleaning of the closets and other such spring kinda stuff. Life is not perfect, but it’s good.

Eleven years ago today, I was three months into healing from the most shocking revelation, that my husband was a sex addict. Blue Eyes and I were at the tale end of a Panama Canal cruise I had purchased him pre dday for his 50th birthday, It was one hell of an emotional ride. None of our therapists wanted us to take that trip. I can certainly see why and if I had said we’re not going, and forfeited the thousands of dollars I’d spent, Blue Eyes would have gone right along, with whatever I said. He would not have attempted to convince me we could make it work, that he would do whatever it took to share this special time with me. Like most things in our life together, he just went along. Although he had mastered managing his secret life (until it exploded), and mostly his career, his life with me post discovery, was in a shambles. I realize very clearly now, that the partner I wanted and thought I needed all along, didn’t exist.

And although I have weathered the storm, come out the other side so to speak, we still live in this place in our relationship where I do the lion’s share of managing our couple-ship. It is NOT because I want to. It’s because Blue Eyes’ childhood was so dominantly manipulated by his mother, literally everything he and the rest of his family did was controlled by his narcissistic mother, it was imbedded in him, and he seems to not see it. To this day he doesn’t see it. Last weekend was a perfect example. If I don’t take control, or schedule things for us together, he goes off and does things without me. Like a child who has been let off the hook from chores to go play with his friends.

It seems quite incredulous to me that a 61 year old man cannot see the childhood wounds that still haunt him. That he creates a life for himself that works for him, but he does not see the brokenness that hinders deep relationships. Intimacy is lost.

In reading and speaking with betrayed spouses, I see this lack of intimacy winding its way through relationships. These are not necessarily bad people. They are broken people. So many times on this blog, I have written about and others have commented on whether Blue Eyes has it in him to be who I need. Well the answer to that question is yes, and no. I believe now that he does NOT have the ability to be that deep intimate partner I thought I wanted or needed. However, I have realized over time, that I don’t need him to and I am slowly letting go of the idea that he will ever be this person I had fabricated in my mind. I am not a fairy princess and this is not fantasyland.

I am not sad, just resolved. Blue Eyes and I have a great friendship. We have been together for 40+ years. We get along. He has his stuff, and I have mine. Although menopause has taken its toll, we do have sex, but sex is not intimacy from where I stand. Sex is nice, like a day at the beach, or a picnic in the park. Real intimacy comes from wanting to share your inner most feelings with your partner. Some of us are a lot better at it than others.

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through,

how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over.

But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person

who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”

-Haruki Murakami

All these years later, I am definitely not the same person I was. We adapt and change to everything that happens to us. When something as devastating as partner betrayal happens, we owe it to ourselves to recognize that we need to meet our own needs. Life is short, living with strength and purpose is a gift we must give ourselves. ❤️