The Scarlet Letter Pt.1

Emotionally Unstable

An affair never happens without the background and pre-work of what lead to it. Scarred and conforming to all the people around me, I searched for approval in the wrong ways. Where it landed me was on the worst emotional roller coaster that ended with life’s greatest blessing.

I will prepare you now that this is messy, and everyone has their own version of this story. I’m sure you have heard a few of them. Again you might ask yourself, “why now?” This is old news. No reason to talk about it. Well folks for the rest of my life there is a reason to talk about it, and I am going to dive into three of those reasons. One, it fucked me up emotionally for a long time. Two, I have two daughters that have to learn the story and I will be damned if they hear a version from someone other than me. Three, women desperately need a voice in this conversation! So let’s get into it.

I committed adultery. I cheated. I cheated more than once.

Oh shit, she didn’t just go there.

Yes, yes I did. Breathe. It’s gonna be okay people. This isn’t your story, so if I can have the courage to speak about it then just breathe and keep reading.

How does this happen to someone, you might be asking. Well, hell if I know. I grew up in a good Christian home, went to church, knew the 10 commandments, and thought cheating was the sleaziest act a person can commit. I believed in the commitment of marriage and knew those vowels were for-ev-er. Yet, here I am. I went from being the poster child for any youth group to now walking around with a neon sign over my head that says “adulteress” and am shamed for my actions. Cast the first stone people, I’m not doing this for you anyways. If I sound a little jaded it’s absolutely because I am. Oh, you don’t think I have that right?? Well excuse me I forgot that you are a perfect person who has never committed a sin. By the way, judging people is a sin…gotcha!

Okay, okay I will digress but know this is a very emotional blog and I don’t plan on keeping it bottled up. However, as I have previously stated, this is NOT a bashing session on the other parties involved. This is me owning my shit, filling in some gaps of how the hell I got to this point, and the mental war it raged in me.

Reason 1: It fucked me up for a long time.

Even though I have been to a decent amount of therapy I am not sure I could give you a simple answer to why I cheated. It’s not one of those things you wake up and decide to do. It was definitely not a goal of mine. What I was told was that it was a matter of time and I was waiting for the right person and the right opportunity. Yuck! Talk about having to endure that conversation with a therapist! I basically sound like a murderer plotting and planning for their victim. Luckily, I was informed, in the same session, that I did not understand the layers of emotions I had suppressed and I unfortunately went about seeking approval from people the wrong way. Clearly, Doc.

I think the most ironic part of me being a cheater, adulterer, mistress, whore or whatever the title, is that I was the one who was constantly cheated on in past relationships. I was second best or someone’s spring board to someone better. I remember in 5th grade a teacher copied a note from a boy I was “seeing” and posted it all over school. It was between him and a buddy and the letter so nicely said, “Circle who you are choosing to be your girlfriend since you don’t like Jesse anymore.” Then it listed three other girls’ names, and he circled a girl who I was close friends with. In the 7th grade, I was someone’s bet. In high school, I guess I was the tease that did not put out enough. Later, I would have said yes to a marriage proposal from a guy who cheated on me for months (luckily, no such proposal was made). As you can tell these things have stuck with me all these years, but before you recommend me meds please understand I can look back on these events with no feelings, only memories

Yes, I get it every girl has a version of this story, and maybe that is what’s incredibly sad. We socially accept it for guys. We don’t tell them this isn’t okay. We don’t lay into them about how they have crushed us. We hide our embarrassment, our hurt and act like we don’t care. It’s as if we have to be tough about our hearts being broken. I’m here to finally say, it was never okay. It hurt like hell and I didn’t know how to handle it. Now, I know there are good guys out there who were wronged by the female party (I am very guilty of breaking people’s hearts in cruel ways), so I acknowledge that this brokenness can occur on both sides and all the blame can’t lay with the gentlemen. Do I think these previous relationships lead to my cheating? Subconsciously probably. Directly, absolutely not.

I’m going to spare the details of how the affair got started because maybe some day it will become an actual book. What I will tell you is that I was not the victim. I wasn’t someone’s prey or the innocent bystander of someone who was just out to get lucky with a co-worker. I enabled, I encouraged and I persisted. I flirted with the line and then willingly made a huge leap over it.

Let me breathe for a moment…

It’s important for me to tell you that I wasn’t innocent. It’s definitely not the easy thing to say, but it is the truth. I was a willing participant in the actions and choices I made. I used to joke about how when you are the one that never lies, it is incredibly easy to get away with lying. This is where the turmoil begins. I got really good at lying. I actually had started the web of lies way before my affair occurred. This is what happens when you are a people pleaser. The reality is I am unable to please everyone, so instead of hurting them I hid the truth. I was afraid of disappointing anyone, but people for the love of all things good just suck it up and tell the truth. It saves so much time and unnecessary collateral damage. Somewhere, in the midst of all the lies, I lost my identity. I played whatever role people put me in. To most this would be called being a chameleon, but in reality I was a manipulator.

In my defense (yes, I get it Shirley, I have no right to justify my actions) the manipulation came later. It wasn’t the control aspect of manipulation that I played into. It was the ability to convince people I was still the precious, innocent me. This is how I got away with certain details of being a mistress (can we have a comic relief moment and laugh at that word. It sounds so proper and fancy when it stands for something incredibly ugly). I really actually sucked at this whole affair thing, and if people would have paid attention to the details of my behavior, this affair would have blown up much sooner than it did. Spoiler alert…I let the cat out of the bag about my cheating ways. I exploded my own world. Why? Because I was dying inside!!

Let me back track a tiny bit because I forgot the massive plot twist…I got pregnant. Apparently I didn’t read “Cheating for Dummies” because the number one thing you should never let happen, when sleeping with someone that isn’t your husband, is YOU DON’T GET PREGNANT! I can count how many times, on one hand, that we had intercourse before that time of the month did not happen. I remember the emotional day I took three tests in the women’s bathroom at my branch. The fear of his response when I called and told him. The loneliness and ugliness I felt as I cried while laying next to my napping 18 month old daughter. I was disgusted and disappointed in me. Announcing a pregnancy is supposed to be a joyous moment in life, and I hated myself for the life I had growing inside me.

So what do you do when you are pregnant with another man’s baby, still married and choose to keep the baby?

You seek guidance and comfort from a trustworthy source. I bet you thought I was going to say get a divorce, haha. Of course, that would have been the easy choice and either by now or soon you will learn I never went the easy route. The road less traveled is a path I have walked many times. It’s like the lyrics from Lauren Alaina’s song Road Less Traveled, “If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle. Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled.” I was terrified and lost but into battle I went.

******PROCEED WITH CAUTION******

Here is your warning that my truth is my truth. It can be hurtful to others to read my point of view.

I needed reassurance and comfort, but was not greeted with it. I barely got out the sonogram photos before I started crying. I will never forget the confusion on the person’s face that quickly turned to anger. Coming from a “good Christian family” what do you think I got thrown at me? The Bible. How could I have done such a thing? What was I thinking? Do you know how disappointing this is? While I remember way more than the average person this specific conversation gets a bit blurry after the initial comments. I do believe I did more consoling that night than receiving it. This is when I was deemed “unstable.” To be honest, I don’t think anyone said that out loud, but it’s how I felt. This is also the day I realized I could trust no one with my thoughts, words, or feelings. I locked them up, and began the manipulation. If I could make everyone (on all sides) believe that I was following what they wanted and acting how they wanted then I could keep the peace and not hurt anyone. I could survive this period of time.

They orchestrated a wonderful plan to “save me.” I started seeing a therapist. I was told to act like this baby was my husband’s and to forget about the man who “did this to me.” I was told to keep quiet. I was told not to see or talk to him. So I played the role they asked me too.

He had his own plans and requests. I was doing all my stuff first, and then he would follow. He said he loved me and I loved him too. However, there always seemed to be a reason why we couldn’t be together. Do you know the mind fuck it is when you are pregnant with a man’s baby, but still don’t seem to be good enough? Yet I played the role he wanted me to play too. I even convinced him at 6 months pregnant that my husband didn’t know I was pregnant.

I was in desperate need of rescuing, but no one was there to save me. No one was there to help. However, no one can save you from yourself.

Didn’t I have friends I could talk to? Of course I did, but when you are the juicy gossip with a scandalous secret I couldn’t trust them not to tell someone. If I was to keep up my Academy Award winning performance of lies then no one could be told (seriously, until the day shit hit the fan about 10 people knew the truth). There is also a pride thing that goes along with this. I really did portray that I had all my shit together, and with a promising career ahead of me I was petrified of what might possibly happen.

I fully believe God worked a miracle during my pregnancy. The duress I was under. The emotional turmoil I experienced. The stress of juggling this secret should have been enough to cause me to miscarry. Yet, she thrived. My simple advice if you are going through a struggle… He never promises that it will be easy. He doesn’t promise the load will be light. However, He DOES promise it will be worth it and He will be with you every step of the way.

On the day I went into labor I kept thinking he was going to walk in the door. That finally the pressure would be off of me and the truth about our baby would be free. Here I was still waiting to be “rescued”, while my husband held my hand as I pushed her into the world. I was a terrible person for what I was putting the both of them through, and now I added a new life to the mix.

I thought life was difficult. I thought my manipulation was bad. Little did I know, I was just approaching the top of the roller coaster and what happens at the massive drop off…you lose control.

Up next part 2….