If it’s early days for you on the pitch black, lonely road back from infidelity you’re likely slogging through a soupy fog and can’t see two inches in front of your face. You may be feeling weak, for choosing to stay, or to leave, though there is only fierce strength and courage in either decision. I’m not aware of an easy button available for either choice. But this perspective might shine a light just far enough ahead and just bright enough to make it all the way home by. Continue reading “When Trust Is Shattered In A Marriage, The Way Back To It May Surprise You”
I’m one of the lucky ones because I’m gifted. I am a dancer and a writer and I am incredibly gifted with both abilities. On the off chance you’re still reading and not gagging on my arrogance I hope you’re reading me correctly. I am not saying I am gifted AT dancing or writing but WITH them. This is a huge distinction and overlooking it is where we go wrong when trying to root out our passions.
During a couples counseling session with my husband a while back our counselor looked asked, “Jodie, what do you do for yourself that brings you joy?” I stared back at her blankly and started to feel hot and itchy. I could not answer the question. My husband and I were at a rock bottom place in our marriage. We were just beginning to attempt to recover from his newly revealed infidelity and at that point my days were filled with despair, anger, anxiety, grief, a sense of loss, uncertainty, insomnia, the inability to catch my breath (quite literally), shame, regret and I’ll just stop here because I could list every negative and undesirable emotion under the sun and be acutely accurate in my description of what those early days of recovery were like. So when she asked me what I did to summon joy, I had nothing, nada, zip, zilch, zero to come back to her with.
I sat in my counselor’s office for the first time a few years ago. I was there because I was struggling with motherhood, bottoming out really. My husband and I have two teenagers and I often harken back to the days when they were little and all our collective problems seemed little too. For the life of me, as I look back all I can recall are the snuggles not the struggles. So hindsight is either a dirty mo-fo trickster or a benevolent and loving friend. As our kids got bigger, so did our issues and I was on her couch because my depth perception wasn’t working. Continue reading “You Say Tomato, I Say Crisis”