We are truly free when we let go of the idea that the past could or should have been different than it was. This is so hard.
The challenge comes from our desperate need to validate our feelings and experiences. We often feel like we invalidate ourselves when we let go of the idea that the past should have been different. We’ve been through hell, we’ve been through things most people don’t know about, and at first it’s so devastating to think about letting it go as if it never happened. Where is the justice in this?
I know; i was there To be honest, I still have moments where I take this thought and carry it for a while because it feels like the right thing to do. In order to honor myself and my experiences, I need to stay in touch with the injustice of the choices made by others—choices that have dramatically affected my life and caused immense pain.
After almost nineteen years of marriage, my husband, my high school sweetheart, told me he was gay and was never attracted to me.
I promise, I know the pain. I wrestled with myself for weeks, trying to think of all the things that could have happened, or maybe should have happened, to avoid the situation that caused me so much pain.
Things like I wished I had looked out for red flags when we were dating, listened to my therapists over the years when they tried to get me to address the issues between my husband and I, wished I had never met him, or that he would have been honest with me (which would have been best for both of us because I’m sure the lie hurt him too). I want to change so many things. Sometimes it seemed insurmountable.
For months it didn’t even occur to me to accept my reality. It was the most unreasonable thing I could have done. I wouldn’t wish the rejection I experienced during my marriage on anyone.
Was I surprised when my ex-husband said he was gay? This is difficult to answer. I knew something was wrong. I knew I felt crazy, invisible, and ugly. The number of nights I cried myself to bed because I was invisible to my husband was too many to count.
Now that I can finally live in the truth, how can I move forward? I have a twenty-year mountain of grief that I carry. Personally, I find this reality the worst: the decisions of others can cut us to the core. We can be hurt by others, and the only way to live a healthy, fulfilling life is to be connected to other people.
I can’t tell you how many nights this reality has kept me awake. I want to live alone on an island more than anything. For years I convinced myself that I was capable of being completely independent. I earn my own money and take care of my own needs. I want nothing to do with being close enough to people to lie, cheat, and hurt me again.
I wish this would work. I wish there was a way, but I’m here to tell you there isn’t.
You can go this way; believe me, i tried. It only brings more emptiness and pain.
The truth is, we are bound. We are mammals. You need others to survive. Those who thrive have deep, meaningful, loving relationships. They feel the pain of the greatest highs and the deepest lows when someone breaks a trust. This is the human experience.
Unfortunately, some of us have experienced deeper levels of pain, but I know for sure that we are all capable of healing.
I had to redefine what it means to let go. This never means that my ex-husband’s choices were okay. I never say the pain was worth it or not so bad. Living in a catfish relationship for twenty years will never be okay. There will always be days when I feel the pain and grieve the past. Fortunately, those days are getting farther and farther apart, but they still happen.
Letting go of the grief of my reality to accept what I cannot change. I can’t change your lies. I can’t change my choices to believe in them. I can’t change the fact that I abandoned myself and my needs for her and our children. I can’t change that.
I feel the deep, agonizing pain, and I mourn that pain until it stops torturing me. When I allow myself to feel and sit in those feelings for as long as necessary, I am validating myself. I am not looking forward to the day when he or anyone else confirms my experience.
No one will ever know the true depth of our pain. The days when we sat in our closet and cried or quietly cried ourselves to sleep. However, we can verify this ourselves. We can share our stories so others know they are not alone in their pain.
I know many of you reading this know my pain. Your story may be different, but your pain is not. If you feel stuck moving forward, please know that the greatest gift you can give yourself is to fully feel all of your feelings. “Go there” as they say.
You don’t have to do it alone. Allow a therapist, mentor, or trusted friend to sit with you as you feel the depth of all your feelings. On the other side is freedom. I promise. It’s not perfect; my sorrow is not gone forever, but I am free. I am free from his decisions and free to create a life I never knew I could dream for myself while I was still in his web.
The work is scary, difficult, and only for the brave and brave. There are so many people here to cheer you on and stand by you as you work. Be brave and start the journey of letting go. You deserve it.
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I recently heard someone say that compassion is the intersection of love and suffering. I feel like I carried the pain for so long and I know my ex did too. My ability to truly let go and be free came when I was able to see my ex’s suffering and lovingly let him go.
I met him with sympathy. It wasn’t easy. Compassion didn’t come quickly, and some days are still hard. We both grew up in a culture where being good and loyal is more important than being happy and seen.
Our tragic story is the result of valuing rules and goodness over love, happiness, and self-expression. I know we are not the first generation to suffer from this mindset, but I pray we are the last.
