Outside of always having stage fright as far back as I can remember, this is the stage in my life where I allowed the foothold for the devil to creep in. I got married and pregnant all about the same time in my life, and as that happened, my husband at the time, was not so excited for it. We made the choice to get pregnant together, but honestly, I didn’t believe it would really be possible, and he knew that as well. I had a high-risk pregnancy with my first daughter, 2 miscarriages, and a doctor tell me that being able to carry a child to full term, just wouldn’t be in the cards for me. Having my beautiful baby girl, now 2 years later, you can see just how wrong he was. I married a ladies man. Which was hard to believe, because he is the nerdy type, always gaming, but he did ride motorcycles.
With the news of me being pregnant, he didn’t know how to react. I can tell you, he didn’t take it too well. He started being gone from the house more and more. One day I needed to use his computer, he gave me the password for it, and he had his email open. There I saw someone who I thought was in the past, sent him an email. So of course, I looked at it. I read how she was saying, I know you love me, I can’t wait to meet your mother, I will be so honored, I don’t know how much more of this I can take, I know you married her but I still want to be with you. it was a very hard pill to swallow.
I was pregnant and not able to work at this time. This was the first time in my life I had ever felt stuck. I felt like I couldn’t leave because I had nothing until after she would be born. This was the first moment of fear. Maybe if I had left, then things could have changed, I do not know. I confronted him, and he denied it, until I showed him the emails. Then it was a different story. He got mad at me, because as his wife, I didn’t have the right to look at the email he was still signed into, and that was the first page to come up. I couldn’t eat for a few days, and I was sick. I tried to pretend I didn’t care, but I did. I couldn’t talk about it with any of my closest friends, because I didn’t want them to look at him differently. That was the second time fear got me. Lastly, I didn’t want to talk to anyone at church about him, because I didn’t want a chance for him to either leave, or be put on church discipline, he needed love and interaction, not scolded and told he was wrong. This was the third time fear had struck, just in one situation. He knew he was wrong, that is why he tried to hide it.
I did however, reach out to one brother at the church, but I toned it down when I talked to him. I just wanted him to spend time with him, he was probably the closest thing to a friend at church that my husband had at that time. Because I toned it down, he wasn’t able to get the full scale of just how bad things were. This is someone I know I can trust to keep a secret, but once again, I allowed the evil spirit of fear to get to me. Therefore, I started a blog. This was where I started praying. I mean really praying, and this was honestly where I learned to be 100% real with God. I had to be real with him, or he couldn’t help me. Things got better during the third trimester and remained that way, even when I first stated back to work. Shortly thereafter, I went on the same rollercoaster ride. I also didn’t think to pray the way I was praying, unless there was bad going on. For just over two years, it was up and down and up and down, until it was just down. The cheating only seemed to get worse, but maybe it was just more noticeable. He was gone more than ever from the house, saying he was one place, and I would be asked why didn’t we make it out to these events, or I missed you guys. I would just tell them things like, we didn’t have a sitter, and they would let me know that he missed it too. I got to a point where I hated him. I couldn’t retaliate though. I would do my best to make him breakfast, asked if he needed anything, try to smile when I knew he would lie to me.
To pretend as if I was perfect would be a lie. I also was depressed. Therefore, I wouldn’t do much around the house. I would try, but I was doing less, I was sick more. The only thing that didn’t change was how I was there for my daughters. They were probably the only thing keeping me from sinking into the black hole of the abyss. I would get fed up and tell him how I knew what was really going on, he wouldn’t speak to me for days, and tell me I am crazy. It just got bad. The only reason why I didn’t wild out, and flip constantly, was because I knew his reaction wouldn’t be worth it. Why get mad over things you cannot change right? Well I am a woman, so I still got mad, but because I had God as my rock, I was mostly able to keep my emotional breakdowns to myself.
I was in a bad place. The thing that stopped me from getting better sooner, was fear. I was scared of being divorced for a third time, I was scared that if I kicked him out, he wouldn’t come back. As crazy as it sounds, I still wanted him. As time went on, I realized, I wanted him for three reasons: I was in love with who he showed me he was, not who he actually was, I didn’t want a broken home for my youngest, and I didn’t want to be divorced. Once I realized who he really is, then I had to get over the fear of divorce. It was so bad the other times; I didn’t want to go through it again. In addition, my oldest, she loves him, and will tell anyone how much more she likes him more than she likes her own father. I just got done having a custody battle with her father for no reason, and it was rough on her. I knew I didn’t want to go through anything like that again.
The fear of kicking him out. That was a tough one to get over. It got to a point where I just couldn’t take it anymore. I went to him sleeping on the couch and told him I can’t take it anymore, and that he needs to leave. It was something he was more than happy to do. He had no problem being gone the next day. Emotionally it was killing me. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed, and things just got worse. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in prayer, I also believe things happen for a reason, and sometimes when you pray, the answer is no. God kept showing me the things I didn’t want to see. And that was my answer from him. At this point I still didn’t want divorce, but I started to become okay with it. What other choice did I have?
As I was praying, God kept bringing me to 1 Corinthians 7:10-15. That is where it talks about staying married, or not. I have learned that sometimes when it talks about the unbelieving in the word of God, it means those who live like it, whether they are saved or not. Without a doubt he was living like it. He wanted to go so I let him go. I had to work on it, but I started the mental process while he was still on the couch. I could no longer worry about what he was doing while he was gone, because it wasn’t my place. I was also mean to him when I didn’t need to be. That was how I pushed him away more. I started missing church from sleeping in, because even though I looked strong, I was still depressed. If it wasn’t from sleeping in, it was from migraines, or my back was so bad I couldn’t even bend half way over.
Yet, I remained silent in my screams for help. I tried to open up to some people at church, but without being fully honest with them, they didn’t know what to pray for, they didn’t know how to help, they didn’t know how to be there for me. It was no fault of their own. I am just very private when I have personal issues. I didn’t want people to look down on him, I didn’t want to chance him wanting to leave God. Not realizing, he already checked out. Fear still controlled me.
During our separation, 1 Peter 3, speaks of the conversations of the wife. One of the main things I get from this chapter is in the first verse, “…if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives;”. I can now say my conversation was not always soul winning during the split. There were often times, it was the total opposite, taking cheap jabs at him, making smart remarks. There was so much I didn’t fully understand, how someone can say one thing and do something totally different. At first, I didn’t even care, I just was being mean to protect my feelings. I was acting on emotions, and not on God’s word. I worked on it off and on, between being mindful and being carnal. Even when he moved back in the house, and he was still talking about divorce, I kept my emotions distant from him.
Another time I let fear to set in. I was afraid of getting hurt. I was scared that if I gave him any of me, he would stomp on it in the end. I was also over him. I had no wanting to give into him I was over him. Then again, maybe I had fear of going in the same hole I just climbed out of.