Infidelity

Unlike the woman who wrote this book, my fling with infidelity didn't lead me to enlightenment, although it lead me to my new life. Neither did I become despondent, although it did hurt someone I cared about, and forced me to question everything about myself. At the time, I thought of one thing and only thing, to have the kind of sexual experience I wanted that was lacking in my marriage.

I will not lie, I felt alive, sexy even during it, even when if the consequences of my actions prayed on the back of my mind. But in the end it was a fantasy, not only mine but his. A fantasy that we can keep this secret forever, that I can live a lie. The other truth I must admit, I don't regret it, well not most of it. I do regret with whom I had the affair, how I hurt myself and my husband.

Does that make me an evil person? A slut? What if I told you that I was atoning for my sins but putting myself in a self-imposed exile? I am...but it doesn't matter. I've been admonished by friends who have had their own brush with infidelity.

Yet, I'm expected to tell you to not do it. I won't. It was never my place to make judgments in the affairs of the hearts. There are never good reasons to do it, but as someone who went into this with her eyes open, logic never enters into the equation.

I know that I am not the only one who did this. But if this post is any indication, infidelity leaves more questions than it answers.

Coming out as a heterosexual

I was having a conversation last night with a friend. Invariably, the topic came up about my sexuality, how I wanted to integrate my sexuality into my life and turn it into a positive force rather than let it become the focus as it has been for the last two years. We began joking about celebrating it, letting it be known that I'm this person. And so we started to plot my awakening...as a heterosexual.

As the conversation progressed, we talked about having a party, having penises party favors, just make affirmations among my friends and family. Then I realized, yes...I do have to affirm it, make a public display of this. I have to come out as a heterosexual. A big one.

For the past two years, my sexuality could not be denied any longer, and I indulged it despite the risks. But now that I'm "atoning" for the wrongs I did because of this exploration, I still must face this sexual journey I had taken, despite the consequences blowing up in my face. I can't leave stop now...stopping now means not dealing with this, not growing.

So...I'm having to go forward...having to redefine my sexuality. But how do I do it so that I can show everyone it is a positive experience for me? During the conversation he kept referring it as a "problem". To be fair, he was trying to describe it as others would see it. Its not a problem, but I'm a woman who freely admits that I love sex, I want it, and I want cock. Unfortunately, I'm suppose to cower in shame for these statements.

Tonight I was reading one of my favorite bloggers...his post lead me here. Granted this is about the lack of language of how a woman "fucks" a man. But even at that primal level, we can't even concede that a woman wants to fuck without resorting to euphemisms. Personally, I love to use the words such as "engulf" and "take"....even "fuck". Even the description of the act of taking a man's engorged penis inside my eager vagina becomes a ground zero discussion of sex and feminism. What hopes do I have of showing my own sexuality in a positive light with the people I love without contempt or pity?

Obviously, this will be a huge undertaking. Yet, despite the hurdles, I know that I must do this. This journey was not started to end at this point.

Ghost

and i guess that's how you started
like a pinprick to my heart
but at this point you rush right through me
and i start to drown
-Ghost by Indigo Girls

No matter how busy you think you are or how hurt or sad you are to deal with your emotions, once in awhile, I catch myself confronting glimpses of my old life.

None more so when I was traveling up to Santa Rosa, picking up and buying a chair I find on Craigslist one Saturday morning. It was the first time I drove up that way, on Hwy 101, on my own, in my new car. The flood of memories didn't really hit me until I hit Novato, as I remembered the rolling hills of the North Bay. I remembered all the trips I took with my husband on the driver seat, going to points up north, where the Redwoods meet the Ocean. I saw cows grazing on the side of the freeway, catching myself saying "moocows" as if he was there with me. Although there was a twinge of sadness, of not being able to share a familiar moment, I felt happy. I had forgotten how beautiful the drive was up here, how somewhat calming to see hills, valleys and fields.

I sometimes feel his presence around me, even if we are no longer physical with one another. It haunts me when I'm particularly feeling vulnerable and alone. And yet, I sort of like it. Not because I long for his touch, because I haven't lost that connection somehow.

Even if we were no longer talking and hated the site of each other, I don't think I could stop the ghost of him, of us, from assaulting me from time to time. And yes, perhaps I will not be in the space to accept it. But I wouldn't want those visitations to stop. If only to remind me of some nice memories.

Fear and Doubt

I had a moment of sad clarity as I saw my husband again last Friday. It was our bi-weekly financial talk and as we tried to relate to each other as individuals he asked me if I had decided if I wanted to get a divorce or just a separation. As soon as I verbally confirmed that, yes indeed, I wanted a divorce a wave of emotions washed over me.

I started to doubt everything I had done up to the point of the discovery of my digression. All of the sudden, I just wanted to erase the progress I had made. To return to my old life, to return to being a wife to my husband. I wanted to erase all of the hurt I had done to him and to myself.

Then another odd emotion gripped me just as those doubts began to fade: Jealousy. I had never been jealous of my husband's attention. For the most part, he never gave me any reason to do so. But that evening, I began to feel jealousy of all the women he will meet, of all the time he will spend with them.

Now I know, that jealousy is a symptom of insecurities of oneself. Curiously, my own fears and doubts gnawed on my own insecurities. Insecurities of failure, of making the wrong decisions, of taking on more than I can handle.

I want to say that it has abetted, but the truth is...is that I'm afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid that maybe I really can't make it on my own. And that I threw away my last chances of happiness in a mistaken pursuit of independence.

I have to trust the unknown.

My husband keeps reiterating that he might meet someone who wouldn't approve of his friendship of his ex-wife. And although I think he deserves more than that, I have to accept that he may never accept me as his friend. Of all the things I'm fearful of...it is that possibility.

I have to embrace "failure" and face my fears if I am to learn from my mistakes. The proposition scares me more than being alone.

Home

I am now settled in my new home now. It is fully furnished, albeit a few empty boxes scattered among my new and old furniture. I think its to my liking now.

My routine is now fully established. I get up in the morning. Take a shower. Walk to the bus stop and get on the BART to get to work. In the evenings, I walk or take the bus home. Cook dinner. Get ready for bed, and prepare my lunch for the next day. Even my cat is now used to her new surroundings. She prowls every precious square inch of my little apartment as if she is the queen of her territory.

I am debating whether I should get cable, but the lack of quality programming on both the local and national channels prevent me from making that decision.

As I find myself in a state of domesticity, I find that my mind wonders to that territory of fear and doubt. (I will explain myself in full detail in my next post.) But there is always something for me to do so my mind doesn't stray for very long. As a single woman, I am having to rely solely on my own devices and what would take minutes for a couple often takes an hour alone.

Yes, home is where you place it and this is where I will be for awhile.

Hopes Dashed

I now understand why people choose sides, why when a divorce happens the fallout is never contained within the parties involved.

Everyone now knows how destructive my presence has been to my husband and someone reached out to me to tell me to not contact me for a week. As far as I'm concerned, I will limiting my contact with him from now on.

My prospects of him ever being a friend has been dashed. It is to be expected I suppose. However, I never expected that I had to learn to let go myself. It was wrong of me to expect this separation to be amicable. Apparently I expect too much from people.

I will leave my home of five years without much ceremony nor help. It is to be expected. Its like this was written in a soap opera, animosity, miscommunication and bitterness reigns.

As for myself, I'm tired of being judged, of having to explain myself, of wondering how people hate me, of listening to his sadness while his anger comes in tides to chastise me. I'm tired that I'm doing everything but its still not enough. Mainly I'm tired, because I'm doing all the work.

I know in time this will not hurt so much nor feel lonely. One of these days, I will feel like that I'm a good person again, like I can contribute to someone's life in a positive matter. But now, no.

Things people say

I don't have a lot of friends who have decided to reach out to me during this trial. However, the significant players in this situation still talk to me and I did get a random hello from a friend.

However, none of them really understand what I'm trying to do much less accept the things I tell them. And its equally frustrating when they are coming to me with their own agenda/motives. The things that people tell me have been both insightful and bewildering at times. Although I try not to take things to heart, its really hard to discern what people mean.

Okay...here are some blatant strange things that I've heard and my rebuttal:

"hmm...I've never been friends with an ex. I don't know if its possible"

This is an easy one. I too have never been friends with an ex. But that's not to say that I shouldn't try at least once. My husband has been part of a good chunk of my life, 14 years to be exact. There isn't a day when I don't miss him. It would be difficult to throw away a person with that much history. I still very much want for him to be in my life. I will not accept the excuse of not being able to be on friendly terms with my husband once we are separated because its never happened to other men in my life. It wasn't that bad of a marriage and for the majority of that time I was a good wife to him. And I would be proud to call him my friend if that is what he wants.

"I never realized you were high-maintenance"

Okay, for context wise, this came from my ex-lover who decided to show up on IM one day. Our break-up boiled down to 1) he yelling at me 2) me telling him to fuck off and leaving me the hell alone, 3)he texting me on my cell phone, 4) me trying to get a hold of him days following that, 5) me emailing him to tell him that we should just break up if he's going to be emotionally unavailable for me.

Yes I will admit I'm a bit high-maintenance. Fuck....IM GOING THROUGH A DIVORCE. How can I not be? Emotions are running high...I am at the apex of loneliness. To expect me to be calm and collected is asking too much. I wanted a friend and thought he was one. But as anyone will tell you, you know who your friends are when you go through this.

Which begs this response from me-when people say that you are high-maintenance what they actually mean is "I really don't want to deal with you when you are in a middle of an emotional roller coaster."

I really question your lifestyle choices.

Aw...this came from the husband, when he started questioning me about my personal life. I presume that once we both agreed to separate, I could start my life as a single person. Okay...maybe the timing is off to start dating, but that statement really got to me. Namely that he thinks I'm a slut and that he has the right to judge me. It is this statement, more than anything else, that prompted me to make the decision to seek a divorce.

Because he thinks I'm flawed and that I'm not taking my life seriously. I know that this is not the time to discuss with him why I am doing this. However, he's putting me in this box without realizing that there is more to this story. If he cannot see the whole me past his blinders there is nothing I can do for him.