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The key to my heart: A tale of forgiveness


It is a New Year, a new beginning, a fresh start. How will you write this chapter of your life? You have 365 pages, and today is day 1. What have you done to move your story forward, to propel yourself toward happiness? Are you stuck? Do you feel lost? Or are you in a place of contentment? Do you feel you are settling for what you have, and if so, do you have the courage to reach out and grab that thing that eludes you? Is this your year? Is this the year it finally comes together? Are you ready for the wonderful things that are coming your way? I hope so 🙂

As 2012 drew to a close, and with the golden rays of 2013 on the horizon, I offered my husband a gift. Not only was it a gift I had never given him, it was a gift I have never given anyone. I forgave him. I’d made the choice to forgive him some time ago, but wanted to tell him in a way that was meaningful to me. At first I thought I wanted fanfare and streamers, fireworks and hoopla. But as it drew closer, I just wanted something quiet, something personal, something warm.

I sat down to write my husband a letter this week. I wanted the letter to represent the emotional journey that I have been on over these past 2 years and 9 months (and let’s not forget the extra 15 days tacked on there either, it has been a long road). I wanted to take him on the journey with me, or at least the Coles Notes version, transport him briefly through the experiences that I have had in healing, and the ways in which he has helped me to heal. I wanted to thank him for all that he has done, for being a good man and for always putting my need for support above his need for shelter, for listening, for answering, for sitting in the shit with me (and this blog documents that there has been a lot of shit). I wanted to share my appreciation for all that he has done in this journey, and to convey to him that he has been my hero. I sat down, and slowly started to write, and when I was done, I had the following letter, which I am publishing for you all to read, which was presented to him last night.

One thousand and twenty days ago, you held my heart in your hands and crushed it, slowly suffocating the life out of me. As I sat there across from you on the sofa, trying to comfort you because you were crying, you pushed me away, and told me that you needed to tell me something. You told me that I deserve to live my life with full knowledge and awareness, and that I hadn’t been doing that. You then proceeded to tell me that my deepest fears were true, and that you were in a relationship with another woman, and had been for some time. As my stomach hit the floor and the room started to spin, you told me that she was pregnant with your baby. The floor fell from beneath my feet, and I stood paralyzed on what was left of the small bit of earth that I was perched upon.

The man I thought I knew stood before me, but he was gone. His familiar gaze now gave way to empty eyes that stood emotionless in front of me. I allowed the words to penetrate, but I could not respond. I felt completely paralyzed. I just sat there and listened to you, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure whether I was real or not, whether I was in a dream, or whether I had just died. The truth is, a huge part of me died that day, and that part was the part I call “us”. “We” were no more. We were just “you” and “me”, because the safety and sanctuary that was “us” had just been violated and torn apart. It lay there, broken, hardly recognizable, and the only thing I wanted was to put it back together again. The only thing I wanted was for you to tell me that you were kidding, that it was some prank, to shake me awake. I wasn’t asleep, and you weren’t kidding, and this was to become my new reality.

When I awoke the next morning, for a fraction of a moment, I was certain I had dreamt it, and felt a lightness I can’t explain. It was like nirvana, but then I remembered that you were not with me in bed, and it had not been a dream, and that moment of serenity imploded. I woke up to the broken reality that would become my new “normal”. “My husband cheated on me with another woman, and she is having his baby”. The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but they would become my new mantra, repeated daily in my head for months and months and months, and years. I heard it in songs, I saw it on TV, reminders were everywhere. It was a new reality I had not invited, but which I was now forced to contend with. The phrase “life isn’t fair” suddenly had a personal meaning. I wasn’t sure what I had done in my life to deserve it. Was it karma paying me back for some horrible misdeed? Was I simply a cosmic collateral damage in the universe? Was I a bad wife? Had I gained to much weight? Was I no longer attractive? Had I “lost it”, and by “it”, I mean everything you used to find of value in me? Why was she chosen? Why was she better than me? Why did you pick her? Why had you done this to me? Why was I now having to pay the price for your bad decisions? Was I unlovable? Was I unworthy of being loved the way I needed to be?

As I spent my days dragging along the floor behind me a drawstring bag, carrying what was left of my self-esteem, I was inundated with hurtful emails from the woman who claimed to be so caring and understanding, so warm and personable. She took what remained of my self esteem, and held it tightly in a vice grip, dipping each piece of what remained into the acid that came through her words. Her words confirming my deepest fears: “I am ugly to him, I am fat to him, he laughs at me, he chose her, he is only staying for the kids, he never loved me…” She hand-plucked each one with deft precision. It’s as if she had lived inside my head, and knew exactly which buttons to push, and she pushed them with a satisfying and demonic enjoyment, her every move designed to wedge the knife deeper into the still bleeding wound. And when it would seem that she hadn’t done enough, she went in for the kill: She told me that due to words that I had spoken, due to action I had taken, that she had made the decision to keep the baby. She took the worst possible outcome (having the baby), and made it the result of something *I* had done, as if it was decided by me. No, instead it was to be my punishment for having fought for my marriage. I either lose my husband to her, or I keep my husband, whose love I don’t even trust anymore, he gains a daughter, and I gain a 22-year child support sentence. It was the ultimate lose-lose, and I felt like she held all the cards. I was broken, and death seemed more palatable.

Although I had my suspicions that something was wrong, I trusted you, and felt you would tell me if anything was really wrong. When you assured me everything was fine, I allowed your words to quench the fears I had, and the slate was wiped clean each time. The trust I had in you far overcame any fears, and I knew I could just trust, and I did just that.

I never snooped in your emails, and I never checked on your phone calls. I didn’t monitor your texts, and I didn’t have you followed. I had no reason to doubt what you were telling me. I didn’t have to investigate anything on my own, because you summoned the courage to tell me, and for that I am thankful. Although you do say that you were pressured to tell me, and had no intention of ever telling me, and were only doing so out of duress, I can tell you that I would have fared far worse had I learned it from her, so I thank you for telling me quietly, in the privacy of our own home, far away from her evil. Thank you for not letting me find out any other way. Thank you for being a man, and telling me to my face, despite the shame that such a moment brought to you. It is a shame that I can’t even imagine, and something that I would not have had the strength to do, had the situation been reversed. Thank you for being strong enough to do the right thing.

In the weeks that followed, you attended marital counseling with me. You attended regular weekly sessions, and faced head-on the shameful situation of having your mistakes placed on the table for open commentary and evaluation. You watched me cry and break down, witnessing firsthand the carnage that you created in the one you professed to love and protect. But you kept coming, and didn’t complain. You didn’t back down, you didn’t refuse, and you didn’t stop.

You took the time to look deep inside of yourself and your situation at the time, with the guidance of our counselor with a desire to learn what had led you there. Thank you for seeing the possibility of there having been a lack of something within you, something broken, something that needed mending. Although I do own my share of any marital breakdown that resulted in your inability to feel that you could come to me with your feelings, I also understand that your decision to have an affair was yours alone, and wasn’t something you did as a result of me, or our marriage. You had plenty of healthier alternatives to deal with your situation, but made a bad choice. I don’t think it makes you a bad person, and I don’t define you by it. Thank you for trying to find what it was within you that enabled this situation, no matter how painful, and for having the strength to examine it. Thank you for being strong enough.

You listened to me gripe and complain incessantly. You watched me hurt, and you listened to me ask the same questions over and over again. You answered them honestly, whenever there was an answer, and struggled to give me comfort, even in times when there wasn’t an answer to give. You placed all of your cards face up on the table, and gave me the truth at the speed at which I needed to hear it, not at the speed at which you were willing to face it. You followed my lead and proceeded at my pace, even when it was uncomfortable. Thank you.

You allowed me to start writing a blog to express my feelings, in the hopes that publically sharing it, that I might gain support from objective others, and also possibly help others in the process. You didn’t stop me from making public our struggle, and I agreed to protect our anonymity. Writing the blog has been a great triumph for me, is something that I enjoy, and which has brought me a great deal of support. It has also helped others. Thank you for giving it your support, and for being a faithful reader, and my first subscriber.

You never made it my fault. You didn’t blame me, or equate any of my inadequacies with your choice. You didn’t deprive me of support, and never denied me the opportunity to talk about it when I needed to. The door was always open, and you always made room for me, and you didn’t shut the door on me, or tell me I was raising “the affair” too often, was asking too many questions, or was being “unreasonable”. You tolerated my teasing and rubbing your nose in it, when I felt I needed some “payback”, and you took it without anger or disdain. Thank you for not retaliating and allowing me this momentary feeling of satisfaction. I sometimes needed it.

You allowed me to tell certain friends about the affair, and gain support from them, even though them knowing was embarrassing to you, and shone a light on your shame. You put my need for support above your need for secrecy, and I thank you.

You willingly attended the “Healing from Affairs” weekend with Anne and Brian, and never once questioned the purpose or need, nor the cost. You made the arrangements, attended, were a full and willing participant, and enjoyed a weekend that brought us closer together and for which I will be forever grateful.

You allowed me to attend the “Take your life back” seminar with Anne and Brian last month in November, taking charge of the kids to allow me to experience a weekend with other betrayed spouses, and the healing that comes from that. You didn’t stop me, you didn’t suggest against it, and you made it easy for me to attend without guilt. Thank you for that support, and for that gift. It, combined with the previous seminar, the learning and the introspection has helped to bring me to the place I am today in my healing, coupled with your support and care. Thank you.

Thank you for helping me to heal, and for acting as my healer in this journey, taking on the weight of my load when I didn’t think I could do it anymore, despite also having your own load to carry. Thank your for your patience, and for never asking me to “move on”, or “get over it already”. You accepted the repercussions of your actions as a burden you were willing to bear as a result of your actions, and you allowed me to do, say, or feel whatever was necessary, as a result, without making me feel stifled, or stupid, or judged. Thank you.

Throughout this journey, you have proven to be my hero. You have tackled situations that I don’t feel that I would have had the opportunity to tackle if I had been the one who had the affair. You have graciously stepped into the shameful places you needed to go. I know that I would not have had the ability to tolerate the constant nose-rubbing, the shame, the embarrassment and the constant exposure of my errors. You did, and for that, I recognize you as the pivotal reason for my healing, and the biggest force, outside of myself, that allowed me to heal in the way that I have.

I now have greater insight into how your affair came to be, and I no longer wish to hold it over your head, or to make you feel remorseful, or guilty. I know that you are remorseful, and I know that this has been your life’s biggest tragedy. It has been mine as well. Instead, I want to help heal you also, and move forward from this tragedy together.

When we first sat with our marital therapist, at our first marital therapy appointment, he told me that the end goal of affair recovery was to seek and grant forgiveness, and that forgiveness could only ever be considered once I felt as though you had stood in my shoes. I remember feeling such torment at the idea that I was to be expected to forgive you. “Forgiveness” was not the F-word that I had in mind, and wasn’t something I was prepared to consider. Last spring, at the end of the seminar with Anne and Brian, you were asked to write a letter, asking for forgiveness. I appreciated the letter, its heartfelt contents, and your genuine request for forgiveness, but I simply couldn’t grant it. I felt badly, like I was expected to. I wanted to, but simply couldn’t. I loved that weekend, and the feeling of togetherness that it helped to reinforce, and I did not want to forgive you simply because you had asked me to, or to comply with the programming of a seminar.

In the weeks that followed, I didn’t want to forgive you simply because I was running on a “post-seminar high” or trapped within the memories of that weekend. Instead, I hoped that the moment that I offered you forgiveness would be more genuine, and coming more from inside of me, not because you were asking, and not because you were programmed to request it. It needed to be real, and it needed to be heartfelt and pure, and it needed to come from me.

I was never ready to forgive you because of what I thought “forgiveness” meant. I always thought that forgiveness was the act of ‘excusing’ someone for what they had done. I thought that it meant ‘condoning’ someone’s actions, and finding something ‘acceptable’ in those actions. I thought that it meant ‘pardoning’ them from their responsibility, and telling them that what they had done was “alright”. I could never come to a place where I believed any of that to be true, and I felt that to ask me to forgive was to deny me my right to be angry, to feel betrayed and to claim that someone had wronged me. I thought that forgiving meant that I could no longer claim to have been betrayed, or own that, and that it took the value of what I was feeling away. I owned those feelings and I didn’t want to lose them. They were the expression of my broken heart, and they weren’t ‘wrong”, they weren’t ‘pardonable’, and they certainly weren’t ‘acceptable’. In speaking with other betrayed spouses, and those who have been hurt in other ways, I learned to define my own meaning of forgiveness, and this one felt better. It was to be the definition that I would then strive towards.

Forgiveness, as I now see it, is the act of letting go of the “better than” attitude that I was able to hold over your head because you had had the affair, and I had not. It was the decision to not see myself as a “better spouse” and to let go of the comparison. Being a spouse isn’t a contest to be won, and we aren’t on opposing teams. Forgiveness is the conscious choice to no longer hold your actions over your head, and to no longer engage in behavior that accentuates your shame, or which holds your actions under a microscope with the intention of helping me to feel better at your expense. Forgiveness is the choice to let go of the victim mentality, and to no longer be defined by it. Forgiveness is making the choice to see that you were a man who made a series of bad decisions, but not to see you as a “bad man”.

1020 days ago you broke my heart when you disclosed that you’d been having an affair. 2 years and 9 months, and 14 days ago, my life changed completely, and my reality was irreparably altered. These 145 weeks, these 24,480 hours, these 1,468,000 minutes, these 88,128,000 seconds have been the most painful, but also the most transformative of my life.

I do not condone what you did. I do not accept what you did. I do not pardon what you did. We both know that if you should find yourself on this path in the future, that the outcome will look very different from this. But, I trust with every fiber in my being that we won’t find ourselves in this place again. I trust that you will talk with me about issues which render us vulnerable, and that we will work towards fortifying our relationship and making the necessary steps towards keeping our union safe from any outside threats. I trust that we will actively work at strengthening our marriage, and no longer fall to the path of least resistance, the easy-way, the “comfortable way”, and I agree to work outside of my comfort zone and work at the ways that I can be a better spouse to you, going forward.

And so this New Years, 1020 days after you broke my heart, I find it mended. It will always hold the scars, but you have helped me heal in a way I didn’t think would be possible 1020 days ago. I thank you for being my hero in this, and I would like to offer you my forgiveness.

To honour this step, I wanted to offer you something as a symbol of forgiveness, so that you could carry something with you as a reminder of our story, and where we are. I tried for weeks to determine what that would be, but then realized that it was too personal a choice, and you needed to be the one to make it. I will let you decide what you would like that to be, if anything at all. For me, I purchased a Pandora charm for my bracelet: a heart shaped lock with a small golden key. This is highly personal for me, and symbolic of where we stand because 1020 days after our tragedy began, you once again hold the key to my heart. I love you.

Welcome to my new beginning.

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Fuck you…Oh, can I get a reference?


For those who have been following and know the story, bless you for having read so much, and remaining on the crazy-train. For those who are new, or who haven’t combed through the archives of this blog to see the hell that the psycho mistress has tried to put our family through, I will give you a little synopsis so that this post makes sense.

My husband had an affair with a woman he worked with. She was his only employee, and at the time, he was grateful for the help. They started seeing one another before she came to work for him, and when he asked her to just be friends and stop the relationship, she claimed to be OK with it, and came to work for him under the understanding that they would remain only friends. That didn’t last long, and before you know it, she was asking him to stay late after work, making threats if he didn’t spend time with her or show her the affection she wanted. On the nights he would leave directly from work, she would text all night long threatening to tell me, to ruin him, to scream rape and cost him his career. As she gradually wanted more of a relationship than she was getting (she was getting screwed on office furniture and I guess she wanted a real date with a meal), she started to threaten more and more, and insinuate that perhaps he should tell me, so that he can stop living a lie. Obviously, she’d hoped to horn in on our lives, and hoped that upon learning of his transgressions, that I would kick him out, freeing him up for her. Well, I didn’t. She became infuriated, started emailing everyone we knew about the affair, including my husband’s work colleagues and my parents. She started threatening to tell others whose influence were higher on the chain, hoping that it would cost him his reputation. She was fired for this misconduct and for using work-related contacts which were privacy restricted for non-work-use, she was fired, and offered a significant amount of pay in exchange for notice, along with a reference letter to just get her out of his hair. Oh, in case you didn’t know, she was also 7 weeks pregnant and threatening to keep the baby unless he left me and our three children. He didn’t leave. She had the baby. We pay her child support every month, and my husband has no desire to see or know the child.

In the aftermath of the disclosure, in an effort to cause us greater harm, she launched a lawsuit accusing my husband of having fired her for being pregnant. Now, we all know that wasn’t why she was fired, but she figured she could claim that, and possibly win some money. She simultaneously launched a human rights tribunal action, citing discrimination for having been terminated for being pregnant. Although the two claims are similar, one is clearly a human rights/discrimination angle, and the other is an employment standards case for wrongful termination. In her Human Rights complaint, she goes into grossly fabricated detail about how she was sexually assaulted by my husband, raped, used and abused, and then threatened with job loss if she didn’t perform certain sexual acts. Her stories read like a bad made-for-TV miniseries. The way he ‘threw her to the ground’, ‘commanded her to perform oral sex at his desk’, ‘finished with her, and then threw her to the floor and told her she was a slut and then spit on her’….yeah, ok, cause THAT really happened. NOT. Anyone who knows my husband would find her script completely out of character, but it was coloured in the most maligning way possible, to cost him his career and make him suffer.

Fast forward two years. The lawsuit has been settled (we paid her even more money to just go away and drop it already), and this week, an email crossed my husband’s desk that she is looking for a job, and hopes for a reference letter. Are you fucking kidding me? She wants a letter of reference? What is he supposed to say, she sued me for fabricated scenarios, cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees, threatened my family, stalked my wife, called the police on my wife with false claims that my wife was hunting her down, but other than that she is a dedicated and hard worker and you’d be pleased to have the likes of her in YOUR office??? Really?

Her email reads (names have been removed for privacy):

In court in January 2012 you agreed we would discuss my job reference from (husband) at a later date. That date is here… I have been offered a position…Should my potential employer call for a job reference from(my husband) I have explained that my reason for leaving (husband’s company) in march2010 was due to a very physically difficult pregnancy (ummm no, it was because your sorry ass was fired due to your behaviour and threatening your employer and his family), I was placed onbedrest for most of my pregnancy & understandably unable to work (but not so bedridden that you couldn’t harass, stalk, fabricate false lawsuits…). Oncemy maternity leave was completed in September 2011, I chose to focus onmy studies full time and focus on completing my degree (Read: I chose to remain unemployed because my child support cheque gives me more money per month than I was ever making in my job, so why work?). This is thereason I did not return to working at (husband’s workplace) upon completion of my mat leave. Although he would have gladly taken me back (Are you for real??!?!?) as he has stated in thousands of emails, text messages and videos (no videos….but he had told her that she was a good employee from time to time and how grateful he was to have her in his employ), I am an excellent employee. I certainly hope (my husband’s) job reference for me will reflect those thousands of sentiments, that I excel in my role, and he give me an excellent reference and recommendation to any employer. Should he need documentation to jog his memory of his positive statements regarding my excellent skills I would be happy to forward the thousands of emails, text messages and videos for his review. There is of course additional extraneous information in these videos which I’m sure he wishes to keep confidential (there are no videos, but I find it funny that she would fabricate the existence of a video in which my husband simultaneously engages in sexual behavior with her while simultaneously vocalizing that she is a stellar employee at the same time…nice video if it actually exiated) between him and myself (and anyone who viewed them prior to Jan 2012), however I would be happy to provide him with these if he wishes. The other people who provide job references for me are people whom (my husband) interacts with regularly (you can only get a job reference from an employer you freaking idiot, and no one that you had in common can write you a reference letter…and the people you knew in common due to your role are the I.T person, the telephone technician, and perhaps the guy who delivered the mail???!? were THEY giving you reference letters about how great of an employee they think you MAY have been (they wouldn’t know), or were you fucking them too and that is the reference they can provide?!?), as I’m sure he is aware (my husband) and I have many, many mutual associates (no they don’t). All of these people will provide an excellent reference for me (you weren’t employed by any of them you dumb fuck)utilizing the aforementioned reasons for leaving employment with(husband). They have all expressed a desire for (husband) to also provide the same excellent reference and reason for leaving (they have all expressed a desire for him to write you a reference letter? Really? These fictitious people care THAT much about you?). Employment for me will ultimately benefit his daughter (name withheld), whose best interests are paramount. Please let me remind you that prior to January 2012 all information about (our) relationship with me, and our daughter was not confidential, hence the knowledge of the above parties of the situation (because she sent everyone she knows details about it in an effort to slander my husband).
Please tell me she isn’t this stupid….oh wait, yes she is. Here, let me sue you, cost you thousands of dollars, nickel and dime you for child support when I am making triple what most single mothers get in support, and oh, by the way, can you give me a really nice reference letter? This, people, is the moron we are dealing with. Someone oughta take her out back and shoot her. The average intelligence of the planet would rise ever so slightly.

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Piece by piece


I am drained.  I have been living this nightmare for 441 days. Just when I think I am returning into a state of ‘normal’, I am reminded that I will never again know what ‘nornal’ is.  My normal has shifted to a new state of ‘typical’ and it leaves me feeling depressed and hopeless.

I didn’t do anything.  I didn’t make any choices here.  I am not the one who almost threw away their marriage.  And yet, I am paying the ultimate price for the actions of two stupid, immature, selfish people, ONE of which should have known better.  MUCH better.  We’d talked about infidelity.  We were on the same page about how wrong it is.  He was raised by a serial cheater (father) and we’ve had countless conversations about how infantile his father’s continued abuse of his mother’s trust was.  Was he saying these things for MY benefit, but didn’t really embrace the same values that I did?  Did our vows mean NOTHING?

These are the things I ponder as I look back on the last 18 months.  Yes, that is right, next week will be 18 months.  It has been the slowest 18 months of my life.

Today I had the opportunity in therapy to share a small piece of my feelings about the child support his mistress is set to receive and how much it hurts me.  I don’t think he fully grasps the extent to which this KILLS me inside.  This woman cheated with my husband KNOWING that he is married.  She came to my home and chatted with me twice, once staying almost an hour.  She seemed genuinely likeable and friendly….and the whole time she stood and smiled at me, she knew she was harbouring a secret:  she was sleeping with my husband, and I was the only one in the dark.  What a fool she must have thought me to be.  How laughable.  Did she walk down my driveway with her fingers in the shape of an “L” on her forehead (denoting that I am a LOSER).  Did she laugh at my expense?  Was I the butt of jokes between her and her friends (they knew she was sleeping with a married man).  Was I considered pathetic?  This same woman, upon discovering that I knew of the affair didn’t cower, didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, and certainly didn’t apologize for having crossed a MAJOR line.  No, instead she laughed at me, mocked me, degraded me, caused me to question the security of my relationship by telling me that my husband thinks I am fat and used to laugh at me and about me (he claims that was a total fabrication), she sent mean-spirited emails, emailed my family, spilled this embarrassing secret to friends and family and has now made it her mission to drain us of every penny she can.  This is her sport, and she is going in as a warrior into battle.  Willing to do anything, say anything, be anything to get what she wants.  The problem?  She is facing the wrong opponent.  She needs someone equally prepared to go to war, and what she has is my husband. My husband is a nice guy, doesn’t want to rock the boat, maybe-if-I-give-it-enough-time-things-will-improve kinda guy.   His being a ‘nice-guy’ is what got him into this mess.   He goes along with things, and is easily manipulated.  He is being taken for a ride every day.  The only problem is, he doesn’t even realize he is in the car, and has himself fully believing that hs is in the drivers seat, in control.  He has no control here.  She does.  She pays no legal fees and can do whatever pleases her, at our expense because fighting her costs us money.  No, my husband doesn’t put on armor and charge full-throttle into the situation, pin her sorry ass up against the wall and demand that this behaviour, the harassment, the slander, the false allegations that cause us to seek legal support at $450 per hour EACH AND EVERY TIME stop.  Instead he blindly follows the recommendations of our family lawyers (we’ve had two now), who try and keep him calm, reassure him that they are doing what is expected while opening their palms to collect our money the NEXT time she acts out.  I firmly believe they want her to continue because it means more work and billing for them.

Yes she is facing the wrong adversary because you can bet her sorry little ass would be pinned to the wall so fast, she’d likely have seen it whip past her face on the way up.  Put me in the ring with this skank-assed piece of shit, and we’d see how fast her behaviour would stop.  I will NOT STAND for this in my life for another minute.  I’ve had enough.  I am tired.  I want out.  I need to be done.  I can’t handle another day.  I want it to stop.  Now.  It is not the way I want to live.  I did not invite this whore into our lives.  I didn’t bargain for a life where I would do the final bedtime check on my children at night, see them soundly sleeping in their beds, and silently tell them that I am sorry…sorry for not being able to be the mom I want to be, for not providing the family atmosphere I want to provide, the untainted family life I want them to know.   I don’t want to be that mom who has to escape to the closet for a good cry, or who snaps at them out of frustration because my very last nerve is spent dealing with this lunatic and I have nothing left for them.  They deserve better.  I deserve better.  I want to be better, but I don’t know how to get there.

All I know is that I can’t handle another 22 years of doling out a cheque to a woman who is grinning ear to ear at the windfall she’s collecting, earning more in child support monthly than she ever did at her job.  Smiling because she knows she is having an impact, and smiling because she feels she has won.  At the end of this child support term, we will have given her almost $1.000,000…..yes that is ONE MILLION DOLLARS.  That is money that MY children should have access to, that should be going to enrich OUR LIVES, NOT HERS.  I can’t live this reality for 22 more years…and then the possibility that this child may want a relationship with my husband beyond that.  This could be a lifetime burden that I carry.   I would rather have a disease because then I could pray that it would take me quickly and painlessly instead of like this – piece by piece.

Loopy with a side of crazy – I want my life back


For those who have been following the saga, we know that my husband’s mistress is, by all accounts loopy with a side dish of crazy. For those just joining the story who wish to get a more firm grasp on this personality, I will recap:

  • The morning after I learned of the affair, she realized that I hadn’t kicked him out (as she’d hoped), and went nuts.  Knowing that he didn’t want another child, she decided to have the child simply out of spite, claiming to have ‘fallen in love’ with the idea of being a mommy (read: loving the idea of someone loving her unconditionally for once in her life).  She started emailing me and telling me that my husband has to think of her in order to “get off”, and how the two of them used to make fun of my exercise routine, calling me fat, and my exercise group the ‘fat farm’ (I should mention that I am well within my normal weight ranges for my height after having three children, train with a personal trainer and a running trainer twice a week).
  • She said she would terminate the pregnancy if my husband left me.
  • We sought legal protection in order to stop her from contacting us by email, phone or otherwise, and we have made absolutely NO contact with her as we try and rebuild
  • She called my husband’s colleagues and told them of the affair via text message
  • She called the wife of a colleague/friend to tell them she had given birth to his child
  • She emailed my parents and my brother to tell them about the affair under the auspices of trying to gather support for me
  • She threatened to call all of my husband’s colleagues to tell them of the affair under the auspices of trying to gather support for herself (she doesn’t know his colleagues)
  • She stalked us to learn our new home address after we had moved for a fresh start and we found her parked outside our home.
  • She called to laugh at me over the phone and tell me that I am nothing, and that my husband doesn’t love me
  • She sent me emails detailing how they would get together and make love for 12 hours straight and that he was the best sex she’d ever had
  • She setup an account on twitter to document the final days of her pregnancy, naming my husband as the father and outing the affair
  • She stalked my twitter account in order to determine who I am connected with and then sent some of my connections (colleagues) details about the affair and that my husband had fathered her child
  • She posted a comment on my business blog under the auspices of trying to get support for me from my clientele
  • She emailed my husband and I ultrasound images of the baby so that we could “celebrate” with her
  • She emailed my husband a month before the baby was born to tell him that she was in early labour and ‘scared’ and that he is listed on the chart as ‘dangerous’ and that she is registered under protective status (makes a lot of sense to tell someone you claim is harassing you and who you are scared of what your exact location is)
  • She commenced a legal action against him claiming wrongful dismissal which has cost us thousands of dollars
  • She commenced a Human Rights Code Complaint stating that she was sexually harassed and forced into sex, but in her demands asks for her job back and $100K in damages (if you were truly scared of a man and considered him a sex attacker, would you ask to be reinstated in that job?)
  • Last month she sent an email to her lawyer (working for her for free, by the way, while we have spent upwards of $50K in legal expenses), that we continue to stalk her online (never contacted her and have done NO such thing – her name is never mentioned in this blog or her identity revealed for the reasons that we don’t wish to engage her).
So perhaps that gives you a little taste of what we are dealing with.
So, as you saw in my previous post, she is now going to be receiving TRIPLE the amount of child support, and it sickens me to know that she is doing her happy dance at home, earning more in child support payments than she did in her job.
But, to make matters worse, today she sent an email to her lawyer claiming that she would like the harassment from my husband and I to stop.  She claims my husband’s colleagues have been emailing her pornographic information and sending inappropriate emails and phone calls to her home.  She pleads for the behaviour to stop, and claims that she just wants to move forward ‘amicably’.  Let it be known that NONE of my husband’s colleagues are aware of the affair and NONE of them know her personal information, let alone her phone number. It is a complete fabrication.What pisses me off more than anything is the fact that she can make these assenine claims, taking up the time of our respective lawyers’ time, and then we have to pay our lawyer to reply to something that is completely false.  She is draining us of every penny we own, and embarks on things like this as if they were sport.  Her lawyer costs her NOTHING as it is a friend to her father.  Nice.  She is playing games to get us unnerved knowing that it will start a series of communications, and perhaps keep her ‘fresh’ in my husband’s mind, and mine.

I told my husband that she should be forced to PRESENT these emails that she claims to have received, and voice recordings of all voicemails.  When she can’t produce them, she should be told that she is either:
  1. Lying and fabricating bullshit for fun
  2. Truly believing that these events are happening, in which case she is mentally unfit to parent this child and we are seeking support
Something tells me that given those two options, she would admit to having lied before threatening to have her custody revoked due to her being unfit.  In doing so, she would essentially be admitting to having lied, fracturing her own credibility with her counsel.
I am literally at the end of my rope.  I can’t believe this crazy person has been admitted into our lives.  I just want my life back.
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