Back to School
My nerves were about to get the best of me. Walking into my first college class in over 13 years was beyond daunting! In a sea of 18-22 year olds, this 29 year old was feeling very out of place. Even though I had eagerly registered for my Into Journalism class, it took everything I had to walk into the class room. My nerves were at “first day of Jr. High” level.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach, and opened the class door. The scene that greeted me was my worst nightmare come true. I was greeted by the face of *Ellen Smith! In sheer panic I nearly ran out the door. How could that be? She was my 11th grade AP English teacher. And she did NOT like me.
Okay, so it really wasn’t Ms. Smith. But my wonderful professor, Rosemary Roberts, resembled her. It had been over 15 years since I joyfully finished my last class in junior English. And honestly, I don’t remember thinking that much about the class once it was over. But every emotion that I experienced years before came flooding back at warp speed. Papers were returned covered in red ink. Biting remarks and belittling were the norm in that class. I honestly don’t know why this particular teacher disliked me so much. And whether or not I deserved the treatment I received isn’t the point.
Both women have a gift for understanding the English language. Both women are teachers. And both women have similar features. But they had one huge difference – the way they went about their jobs. One inspired and encouraged while the other criticized and intimidated. One was pleasant, the other was crotchety. One I feared, the other I respected.
It’s no surprise that I performed much better for the teacher who inspired me. So that leads me to examine myself. How do I deal with those around me? My husband, my children, my friends and family; do I inspire or intimidate? Am I pleasant or grouchy? In all honesty I am both.
I think everyone has the ability to be both. It’s easy to casually spew criticism, blanketing those around us with seeds of self-doubt. But is it realistic to expect that anyone can always be …well, nice? It’s hard to live between the two extremes, balancing honesty with encouragement. No matter how hard, I will continue to try. More encouragement, less criticism. More inspiration, less demand. More smiling, less scowling. After all, I would hate for someone to run shrieking in terror because they saw someone who looked like me.
*Name changed to protect the grumpy.
Part 5 On The Other Side
The moment was surreal. Conversation flowed freely and laughter filled the air as Steve and I shared an order of nachos. A last minute date to a movie preview was followed by an impromptu late-night stop at Fuzzy’s Taco. As we recounted the movie we laughed so loud that other people began to stare. We were thoroughly enjoying each other’s company! In that moment, I couldn’t imagine being happier. For a moment I thought I was going to cry.
So what’s the big deal? Don’t all married couples enjoy times like this? I can’t answer for everyone, but I know that I didn’t. Stilted date nights and unmet expectations were the norm. Like being stranded on an island unnoticed by yet another passing ship, the lack of intimacy in my marriage left me disappointed and dejected. I craved a relationship where scenes like the one above occurred.
How did my marriage get from where it was to where it is? With a lot of hard work and determination! And, a lot of God!
As Steve and I began to deal with his addiction there were times I was completely overwhelmed. We both were. The issues were much deeper than just an addiction. We were actually dealing with an intimacy disorder. I wondered if we would make it. And honestly, there were times when I doubted the effort was worth it. Part of me wanted to give up because in addressing his problem I had to look in the mirror. The reflection was more wicked step-mother and less Snow White. I had to hear and own how my actions were contributing to the problem. I had to swallow my pride for the sake of my marriage. In reality, I didn’t have to – I chose to. And I am so thankful I did.
I like my husband and I respect him. We enjoy being together and don’t need other people as a buffer. I don’t worry about how to appear sad if the police were to come to my door and tell me Steve was gone. We have awesome conversations, we have a fantastic sex life, and we inspire each other to be better. We can argue and it not threaten to ruin our relationship. And most importantly, we can just be. We can sit in silence without feeling the pain of a void. We don’t have to worry about keeping up walls to protect ourselves. We have dreams and goals and without wishing time away, look forward to an empty nest.
When I think back to where we were compared to where we are, I feel like we need some kind of medal. There are moments when I want to stop and shout to everyone around, “Do you see how amazing this is?! Do you see how far my husband has come?” But really, it wasn’t just him. It was both of us. We are reaping the fruits of labor from seeds that were sown in our tears. We made it. Do you hear me? We – made – it!
How? Because we didn’t give up! If I could give one piece of advice to a version of myself 10 years younger, that would be it. “Holly, don’t give up!” I can only credit God’s abundant grace with giving me hope and helping me persevere when I could only see the end. More days that not, I thought it was over. The last time we went to counseling, my motivation was to justify divorce. Today that sentence brings tears to my eyes. If I had given up, I would have missed the absolute best years of my life. Yes, it was hard, but worth every minute. Every tear, every fit, every day that I thought I physically couldn’t bear the pain anymore was worth it.
No, things aren’t perfect. But I know that there will be many more impromptu dates, moments of laughter and cherished memories. No matter what life throws, I have faith in us. We will get through it. Together.
Part 4 Forgiving
Who came up with the saying “forgive and forget?” I mean really, did they ever try it out? I feel like channeling my best Dr. Phil voice and asking how that worked for them.
The mind is an amazingly complex thing. I can remember with vivid clarity some silly injustice from kindergarten, but have no clue where my keys are on a daily basis. Given my ability to remember such unimportant things, is it really possible to forgive and forget?
And what if the faithfulness and honesty of a partner is involved? I think the answer is no… and yes.
When we hear the term forgive and forget I suspect we think it means to literally forgive and never think about, remember, obsess over or plot revenge about said incident ever again. Ever! Or at least that was the understanding I used to have. Why on earth did I ever put that much pressure on myself? It is literally impossible to not remember; especially when it involves hurts inflicted by our spouse. Telling yourself not to remember is like trying not to stick your tongue in the hole where a tooth used to be. The harder you try not to, the more you do it.
I have often heard the insecurity in a woman’s voice as she says, “If I’ve truly forgiven, why can’t I forget?” They doubt they have actually forgiven because they aren’t able to forget. I remember that feeling of guilt! I remember feeling that if I was a better Christian I wouldn’t keep thinking about something that I thought I had forgiven. That feeling is exactly what caused me to rethink the way I saw forgiveness altogether.
Life experience has taught me that forgiveness is a choice. It’s something I choose even when I don’t feel like it. And it’s a choice that has to be made over and over. It is a process – not an event. It’s much like the decision to lose weight. When someone decides to lose weight, they aren’t successful by making a one-time decision. It takes lots of decisions everyday to be successful; eat this – don’t eat that – go to the gym. And like forgiving, decisions regarding lasting weight loss are made over and over, day after day.
Over time, as I have continually chosen to forgive all the hurts that came from Steve’s addiction, I have been set free. I have been freed from the guilt of remembering. I have been freed from resentment and bitterness. And oddly enough, I have even been freed from seeing the hurts in a purely negative light. The more time that passes, and the stronger our relationship becomes, I find myself seeing those very hurts as a blessing in disguise. Remembering allows me to see how far we have come.
If you have chosen to forgive, whether the offense was big or little, don’t doubt the sincerity of it. Yes, you will remember from time to time. When you do, give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel in that moment; name it and move on. Then make the choice to forgive all over again and forget, at least until you remember it again.
Part 3 When
Some questions can be taken at face value. When my kids ask me what’s for dinner there typically isn’t anything behind the question other than a hungry stomach. Other questions aren’t as simple. They stem from something deeper – there’s a question behind the question. What’s being spoken is only the tip of the iceberg. What’s beneath the surface is the real issue.
The day I sat eating with Morgan, I wondered what was behind her question. “Is 
he thinking of someone else while kissing me?” were the words coming out of her mouth. “Does he desire only me?” was what was in her heart. On the surface, she knows he desires her, but does he desire every other woman he sees too? This fear lurks behind the veil of her question.
When we enter into a committed relationship there are some basic expectations that come with the territory — one of the most primal being that we will be the sole object of our partner’s desire. It is innate. We long to be desired. And we don’t expect to share that position with anyone else. I, like Morgan, never expected to be one of many women who floated through my husband’s mind. In reality, over the course of Steve’s active addiction, I was one of thousands. I wanted to be the only one.
Walking the road of recovery with Steve, I have learned that wanting to be the only one is fine. Actually being the only one is unrealistic. Before you have a heart attack, let me explain. Yes, in marriage it is fair to expect faithfulness – emotionally, physically and mentally. However, expecting that Steve will never have some image flip through his head is unfair. So the real issue becomes the intent.
In an active addiction, there is a complete lack of emotional intimacy between partners. An addict will attempt to fill this void by pursing false intimacy with someone else — real and/or fantasy. The intent is to use images or people for one’s own pleasure. It is selfish in nature and it is wrong. But if I’m honest, I have to admit that while I have never struggled with a sexual addiction, sometimes there are uninvited thoughts and images that appear in my own head. How can I hold my partner to a standard that I, myself, can’t keep?
So, maybe measuring the health of your relationship with the ruler of ‘being the sole object of his desire’ isn’t the most accurate way of finding relational security. It would be more accurate to use the gauge of intimacy. As real emotional intimacy develops between two people, the need for false intimacy will decrease. A working definition of intimacy is the willingness to be known for who I really am and the willingness to know someone for who they truly are. And true emotional intimacy can only take place in a safe environment.
I have found that when I am concerned with who else might be in my husband’s thoughts, the best thing I can do is provide a safe environment for him. This doesn’t mean I condone his entertaining thoughts of others, simply that I can inspire his focus to return to me much better than I can require it.
So if you value your relationship and want to heal it, it is better to focus on what you can do to cheer him on and turn his heart (and thoughts) back toward you, rather than berate him with a bunch of questions that can’t really be answered in a futile attempt to calm your own insecurities. Because in reality, there will never be a way to know who is in your spouses head as they are kissing you. But build emotional intimacy and it won’t matter. You’ll know his heart and body belong to you, even if another unwelcome woman invades his private thoughts on occasion.
Part 2 Knowing
Some people think I’m nosy. I like to call it being curious. If I’m honest, I’d have to admit to both. I like to know! Whether it’s how something works, why a culture has the beliefs it does, or why someone would move from Malibu, CA to Allen, TX, I want to know! And, I love to ask questions. There are times when my inquisitive nature comes in handy. I make friends easily and I can talk to most anyone. But as Steve disclosed his history of sex addiction to me, curiosity threatened to ruin us.
I wanted to know everything. I needed to know everything. Yes, everything! While his addiction had not physically involved another person, mentally it involved many and I wanted to know the details about every single one. Who are these women that had occupied my husband’s thoughts? Do I go to church with them? Are they prettier and skinner than me? Are they my friends? These kinds of questions took up all the space in my head leaving room for nothing else.
When any addiction is being addressed in marriage, disclosure is vital. Sharing every gory detail is not! In simple terms, disclosure is stating facts, sharing secrets, coming clean and telling the basic history of the addiction. Because addictions are often seeded in secrecy and dishonesty, it is important to get everything out in the open and work from there. Honest disclosure is how you start rebuilding trust. At first, I confused disclosure with knowing every detail. Initially, Steve’s reluctance to share the details with me hurt. I saw it as a way for him to continue being dishonest. We had to sort out how to deal with this difference of opinion before we could start repairing our relationship.
I had to decide which was more important, knowing everything or just knowing enough. Knowing enough meant I knew the important things; that Steve had been honest with me and was committed to becoming authentic in our relationship. Knowing enough didn’t threaten to do more damage to our marriage but knowing everything might have. There is a place for telling every detail, but it’s not with your spouse. The best place for that kind of sharing is with an accountability partner, with someone who is healthy and safe. If Steve had given in and shared the sordid details with me it might have hindered the healing of our relationship.
For the first time in my life I realized that maybe I don’t need to know everything. Coming to that realization wasn’t an easy one, especially for someone as obsessed with knowing as I used to be. So when someone asks me if they need to know everything, my answer is no. Nine years later, I am thankful that Steve didn’t give in and share the details with me. Now I don’t have to battle images that were never meant to be in my mind. Being out of the loop allows both of us the freedom to have a clear mind when we interact. Now we are free to live in the present, and free from the ghosts of the past.
Hope
In the last few weeks I have written a series for Shannon Ethridges blog. In the next few days I will be posting them here. Enjoy!
“When will I stop wondering if he is kissing me and thinking of someone else?” As
we speak over Thai food, Morgan’s questions unleash a flood of memories. Pain, distrust and betrayal, I feel their sting as a near decade of recovery evaporates in an instant. Nine years ago I struggled with the same question when finding out that my husband is a sex addict. I wondered if our fragile marriage would survive. How could I ever trust him again?
“When I get home, we need to talk. You might want to make an appointment with Jane.” As Steve spoke these words, my heart sank. The delicate threads that hold the broken pieces together unravel with every passing second. This was serious! Was this the other shoe dropping? I expected the worst without being able to name what that might be.
We sat down, hearts in our throats, and I steeled myself for what I knew to be coming. “I need to be honest and confess that I have had an addiction for most of my life. It was there in my earliest memories.” I tasted bile. What was I hearing? I needed someone to tell my heart to be quiet, to turn down the thudding in my ears. I felt like I was suffocating, drowning in the confusing mix of emotions threatening to swallow me; hurt, anger, fear, confusion, and relief. Yes, relief. The fact that our marriage had survived up to this point was astonishing considering the demons we had already faced. And while we had come a long way, I still carried a nagging feeling that a piece of the puzzle was missing. Somehow, in the middle of the numbing confusion, I knew this was it! Looking back, I think that knowing was the driftwood allowing me to survive the waves of negative emotion. Don’t misunderstand. It wasn’t easy. Picking up the pieces again took a lot of work, grace and understanding.
Thankfully, we made it through the aftermath with our marriage not only intact, but immeasurably richer. While we aren’t perfect, I honestly think we have one of the healthiest marriages around. And after so many years of secrecy, we choose to be very open about our story. For us, it is therapeutic. This openness, along with Steve’s frequent speaking engagements, gives me many opportunities to hear questions just like Morgan’s. While the questions I hear are varied, there are three which surface repeatedly. Is he thinking of someone else while kissing me? Have I really forgiven though I can’t forget? And, do I need to know everything?
I wish the answers could be tied into neat little bows, tidy and crisp. In reality, they can’t. In the coming weeks I will share my feelings, tempered by 9 years of renewed trust that Steve and I have built. Recognizing every situation is different, my intent in sharing is to give you hope. Because it all starts with the smallest bit of hope, doesn’t it?
Technically Speaking
Today I joined the iPhone world. I upgraded from a 2-year-old Propel to an iPhone4. The differences between my old phone, which I lovingly referred to as a dumb-phone, and my new smart-phone are too numerous to list. But, if I were to make a comparison, it might be the same as the difference between my first Atari game system and the Wii my children have. Technology is amazing and changing every second.
In my world, I am often reminded of the down side of technology. Sex-ting, identity theft, internet addictions, & isolation are some of the problems our wired culture faces. And then there’s porn. We have come to a place where almost anyone who wishes to can view porn anywhere. At times, I have even wondered who was looking at something they shouldn’t be while in church. Because I deal with these issues via Steve’s work, my norm is technology is negative. If I think about it long enough, it’s enough to make me want to go completely ‘unplugged’. But, then there’s my shiny new iPhone and my giddiness over it causes me to remember that there are two sides to everything.
So, here’s my short list of some of the good things technology provides:
- Communicating when talking isn’t an option
And I’m not talking about texting in a movie or meeting because you can’t answer your phone. While there are some who see these as assets to their lives, I want to go deeper than that. There are times when things in our life overwhelm us. Unexpected death, serious accidents, & family/personal crises can make it difficult to carry on a conversation. Emotion is too high and words won’t come out. But a quick text message can carry empathy, compassion and prayers without being intrusive. Whether we are the one in crisis or the one wishing to reach out, a text or an IM can do wonders for our moral. There have been many times I have been on the receiving end. A text message as simple as “I love you” or “I’m praying” have done wonders for my spirit!
- Staying connected in your marriage (This is probably my favorite!)
With jobs, children, and life in general, it can be extremely difficult to keep a strong connection with your spouse. Before email and texting became so prevalent, there were weeks when it seemed Steve and I barely strung 3 sentences together. Our lives seemed like a cycle of cooking, baths, homework, etc. As email became more common, it got better, but honestly text messaging has been the best! It took Steve a while to catch on, as there was a learning curve with texting, but once he got it – he got it! Texting allows us to flirt shamelessly with each other no matter who is around. From silly inside jokes and compliments, to making plans for alone time – it can all be done without anyone else’s knowledge. If you haven’t used texting, email or IM for flirting with your spouse, I highly recommend you start!
- Maintaining long distance relationships
In my married life I have lived in 6 states. In each place there are people who became part of my inner circle; the ones who knew me inside and out. While I actually like to move and go new places, it was still a source of sorrow and loss. There were always people I wanted to take with me when we left. When I made my facebook account a little over 2 years ago, I never imagined how many people I would reconnect with! We share pictures, ideas and everyday-little-things that make life exciting. From my 87-year-old neighbor in North Carolina to new friends I recently made from Australia and Canada, I maintain relationships with each of them thanks to technology.
What about you? What are some of the benefits of technology in your life?
Falling Into Doubt
“You can do it! I know you can! Look, it’s only this far,” I reassure, 
holding my arms out to give him a reference to the horizontal distance. He shakes his head no. Despite his overwhelming desire, he can’t make his feet move. Over and over he backs up the length of the picnic table and runs only to stop cold at the end. In his heart he is jumping. In his head he doubts.
To me, it’s so easy to see that he can do it. He has easily cleared that distance many times on the ground. But up there it’s different. Up there are things to fall off, onto and through. He has all the right ingredients; beautiful blue sky, a gentle breeze blowing off the Adirondack Mountain Lake, an encouraging mom, a picnic table and a gigantic flat-topped rock. However, the tiniest speck of doubt outweighs them all.
This incident came to mind last night during a conversation with a friend. The conversation bounced here and there, but eventually turned to me and my writing, or more accurately, my lack there of. While we don’t chat often, said friend always encourages me & asks if I’ve been writing. Last night I was in a particularly open mood and confessed that I still struggle with doubt. The realization takes me down a notch and reminds me of something from my childhood; something I haven’t thought of in years.
No matter how far I’ve come, at times I am still a 10 year old girl. The one who wants everyone to listen her recording of Christmas songs, but is told no one wants to hear them. And that realization isn’t pleasant. Haven’t I gotten over it? Haven’t I paid time and money to be healthy, to be happy with whom I am? The woman I am today knows in her mind that the comments weren’t meant to do the harm they did. The mother in me knows that a large, family holiday gathering isn’t the best platform for a tape recorded recital. In my head, I understand. In my heart I am still 10, and it still hurts. I have let ancient negative thoughts paralyze me.
So I wonder. Why is it so easy to see self-doubt in other people while turning a blind eye to it in myself? When will I get over it? And then I think back to a day last summer when I watched my son finally take a deep-breathed leap, throwing his hands up in triumph. And I begin to get it. No matter how old we are or how far we have come, believing in ourselves is still a daily choice. A perfect setting and good intentions can never take the place of actually doing. When I am tempted to give in and let doubt win, I will remember the conquering smile on Griffin’s face and tell my heart to jump.
Hiatus
Hiatus – a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series, action, etc. Or in this case a blog. When I hear the word hiatus it conjures visions of a peaceful absence, something planned, something done with purposeful intention. However, in the scheme of my crazy life a hiatus is never that neat and tidy. It’s a byproduct of chaos not deliberate choice.
The end of school is always a hectic time so I took a week off. A week turns into two and two into a month and before you know it the entire summer has gone by without one new post. For most of June I felt guilty. By August I didn’t care. The good news is I had a wonderful summer; a summer that equipped me with lots of new ideas and more laughter than is probably legal. (but would be taxed if a politician ever figured out how.)
The highlight of my summer was a 3240 mile road trip with my two youngest children, 14 and 12. Yes, we drove from Dallas, TX to Riverhead, NY (WAY out on Long Island). Why Riverhead? My parents live there and my second oldest son was working as a camp counselor there all summer. Honestly, I wanted to fly. But, now that I have completely recovered from fanny fatigue, I am ever so thankful we drove.
Where else can you experience the delirium that makes chewing gum accidents funny, or laugh for 6 miles because your son, who rarely sings, burst out in an exuberant rendition of some Jason Derulo song? When else would you sleep with a chair against the door because you check into the seediest hotel in Little Rock and are too tired to find another one?
The trip in itself was a hiatus too. For 32 days we were away from our usual surroundings. We experienced more in that short time that we might normally experience in a year. Catching up with friends in TN, 20th high school reunion, visiting family in VA, driving through 11 states, New York City, a Broadway show – Yes, we got on each others nerves, but overall I think all three of us had a better time than we expected.
So, I’m back and I look forward to blogging more regularly. If I hadn’t taken a break you might never get to hear about The Naked Grandma, loud talkers, a butt-scratching fast food employee, Wicked, being visually assaulted by boobs and who knows what else.
Admittedly, I tend to be one who feels guilty for not keeping up. Rarely does anyone put pressure on me. Then why am I an expert at pressuring myself to keep some perceived deadline. Who knows? My hiatus has taught me that it is good to step back, to take a break. Whether that’s from a blog, your everyday routine or from self imposed obligations, there is untold value in stepping away, in doing things different. So what? I didn’t write a thing all summer, but the laughter and memories I found are worth much more.
A New Norm
Four. That’s the number of phone calls I made yesterday while grocery shopping. (NOTE: I said shopping, not checking out. I am not that rude.) I admit, this isn’t an ideal way to do either one, but my schedule calls for multitasking on a whole new level.
During one of these phone calls, the person on the other end of the line divulged they were living in a constant state of flux and they would be glad when things were normal. I laughed out loud as I shared I had come to accept the state of flux as my new norm.
I remember a time when life seemed a bit more manageable. Even with 4 young children at home, things were simple. Our sphere of activity was limited to roughly a 10 mile radius. There was home, church, the library, the occasional trip to Chik-fil-a & not much else.
Yes, there were 10 loads of laundry to do each week, trips to the grocery store, Dr.’s appointments and so on. But, I was in control of what that schedule looked like. Everything revolved around our home. And as hectic as things could be, there was always the salvation of nap time! I possessed a misguided notion that things would always be this way.
I knew my children would become more active as they got older and our sphere would grow. But the path my life has taken was drastically unexpected. Here’s the short story: Steve and I decided to leave the predictable life behind, quit his steady employment, go to graduate school and start a non-profit. In the process we have moved 3 times.
I thought I had an adventurous spirit – I relish going new places. But truthfully, I only love new experiences when I choose them. It’s completely different when they are thrust upon me. Then I tend to get whiny and indulge in a pity-party. I’d like to say that I have embraced each of the changes that have come my way with open-minded acceptance. I’d also like to say that I run 3 miles a day and can do 50 push ups. All three would be a lie.
So, what’s the point? I’m not sure. But I do know I have learned a few things along the way.
- When you pray the prayer of Jabez, asking for your territory to be expanded, expect it to happen and don’t be shocked when it does.
- You can waste your time grieving for your old life, circumstances, house etc., or you can live in the present and move on. Yes, it’s alright to miss things, but when I find myself in 2010 wondering why things aren’t like they were in 2004, I need to move on.
- Every single circumstance we go through, no matter how painful, will be useful to us in the future. I like to say that God never wastes a hurt. In the words of Beth Moore, “On the other side of your greatest pain lies your greatest ministry.” Don’t waste it!
- Life goes on. Sounds simple, but I am ashamed to admit that I have missed a lot while participating in a good old pity-party. Look up and enjoy the view. See where you can be effective today.
So, I’m a slow learner, but I have come to accept that the craziness that I call my life is in some way normal. I traded the predictable for the unexpected and, all in all, I don’t regret it one bit. The blessings, opportunities, expanded faith and experiences that have come with it are invaluable.
