I am a diminutive 5’3″ tall woman. I take two steps to every one of whomever I walk with. At my ideal weight, I am approximately 120-130 lbs. I am a small woman. When I saw the texted picture of the Ho in her lingerie on Will’s phone on d-day last year, no one was more surprised than he when I hauled off and punched him, full-fisted, with a hard right to his left cheek bone. He had a lovely bruise and I got a split knuckle for my trouble. I have tried really hard to summon up some remorse for that moment of unbridled rage. . .
Nope. Not sorry. Guess I’m just not that far in my recovery. 😏
Anyway, that is not the point of this post. I am writing because I have been impressed lately by the absolute strength and fortitude of betrayed spouses. I have recently met a few incredibly remarkable women who have traveled this crappy road, hiked this jagged mountain, and crossed this tempest-tossed sea, and have arrived at the other side, not only more resilient but more beautiful, more serene and stronger than any other women I know. I WANT THAT!!!! I want to keep my toughness (yes, I am proud of my badassiness!) but I never want to lose my softness, my compassion and my peaceful center. I want to be feisty enough to sock a cheater when he deserves it, but still kind enough to fetch an ice pack to soothe the pain.
I have found that, at times, balancing the two sides of me is difficult. I still get angry…for all the deception, for the sheer betrayal, for the disgust I still feel at Will’s behavior. At those times, it is so hard for me to tap into my softer, forgiving side. The side that wants to move forward, start new, see a new Will. Maybe this is why I cannot feel sorry for slugging him last year. Honestly, given the chance, I would do it again. He deserved it. But, I wonder if I will ever get to that place where I can feel the anger and “sit with it” (as my therapist say) and then let it go so that I can replace it with my gentler side. Right now, when I am able to let it go, it is simply replaced with sadness and loss. I just hate that. It is not who I want to be, or how I want to be.
Here is what I hope. I hope that my fierceness, my feistiness will somehow morph into fighting this underlying anger. I want to be badass enough to be THAT woman…the one that is so fierce and so tough and SO badass, that nothing, NOTHING,can shake her serenity and peace. I think that is strength and beauty personified. Maybe it is simply a matter of time and recovery. I hope I am not incapable of becoming the woman I want to be 😳. Is it possible to work TOO hard to obtain a goal? So hard that it escapes one’s grasp? Ugh…I so easily get discouraged. This is not the serenity I so desperately need. Maybe this is just the part of recovery where growth actually looks a lot like confusion.
So, I keep trying, I keep fighting…for me, my marriage, for us. I keep praying and having hope and faith. I keep learning and working. I keep crying…and laughing. And healing. I am fierce. I am strong. I am still caring. I am becoming.