If you read my previous post last month, you know my marriage has a deep, unremovable splinter. It is surrounded by scar tissue, with a few years of fresh skin, burying it deeper with time. But it still exists, and the memory of the initial pain stays in the back of my mind and resurfaces with every thought of doubt and feeling unappreciated. It was heavy on my mind last month, hence I wrote about it. I also shared my story with someone in my life who is now having a hard time in her marriage. No relationship is perfect, and we can’t judge what we see on the surface or what is presented to us. I was happy to write and get that post out of my head. It was almost like letting go of some of the pain and resentment that I was holding onto.
It was a hectic holiday season-
shopping, baking, teacher gifts, family gifts, get-togethers- and I took on most of it alone. Christmas was busy, and then it was over. New Year’s Eve was disappointing for several reasons, and then school was back in session.
Last Saturday was an adventure day in my house. My husband and youngest son were away camping, and my two oldest sons were off doing their own thing. I took my daughter back to my hometown for an afternoon with my sister and her family. We woke at 6 AM, went to Panera for coffee and hot cocoa, and were on the road. While my sister and I enjoyed some quality time together, my daughter stayed with her cousins at my parent’s house. It was a rare opportunity for us to spend time without any small children around. I was able to vent and relax. By 9 pm, we returned home and got ready for a sleepover in my bedroom.
My husband and I do not have a television in our bedroom. Occasionally, we’ll take the iPad in and put Hulu on while we fall asleep. This iPad typically stays in my husband’s office. However, it was on his nightstand last Saturday because we had been watching “Lost” at night before bed.
Thinking I could watch something while waiting for my daughter to fall asleep, I reached for his iPad. I turned it on and opened the Facebook app, even though I had deactivated my account a few weeks ago due to wasting time and being unproductive. I don’t even know why I opened the app, but I clicked on the top search bar, and that’s when I saw all his past searches. All the profiles of women he had recently searched for appeared on the screen.
That punch in the gut feeling
I did not consider opening up his Facebook as “snooping,” a problem we have faced numerous times. I went to the search bar, and these profiles showed up—those little images on the left-hand side of half-naked women in provocative poses. My first reaction was to shut the iPad off. That punch-in-the-gut feeling was back. The adrenaline kicked in, and my heart felt like it was exploding.
So, I turned the iPad back on, returned to the search bar, and clicked on the first profile. Disbelief. Next, I clicked on the second profile and scrolled, nauseated. I clicked on the third profile, heartbroken. Who were they, and how was he searching for them? How did he know to search for these women? Their titles were “digital creators,” and all the profiles were public.
It was like someone had cut me open and pulled that splinter right up to the surface but just left it there—an open wound. I couldn’t sleep Saturday night or eat Sunday morning.
The next day,
Phil and my son came home mid-morning from their camping trip. I did not say anything, but I was cold and distant. The iPad lay in the middle of our made bed. I hoped he would say something or realize I had opened it. At some point, he moved the iPad back to the nightstand, never mentioning it.
Monday morning came, and we got all the kids off to school. I went to my corner of the house while he went to his. I was trying to figure out how to bring up the topic we needed to discuss, but it was difficult. We hardly had honest conversations. I spent the whole day feeling sick, experiencing physical pain in my stomach. I had also developed a headache and could not eat anything.
Tuesday morning came and started just as Monday had. I tried to get some work done but found it difficult to concentrate. Eventually, I grabbed the iPad and opened the search bar. I noticed some new names since the last time I checked on Sunday, so I clicked on the link for Facebook activity, where I discovered exactly how much he was watching.
Suck it up and confront.
I learned a long time ago that when you are in the mindset of looking for something you disapprove of, the chances of finding something are very high. Phil was searching for these women on Facebook EVERY DAY. I went as far back as December, and I had to stop. I saw New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. These jumped out because we had guests on New Year’s Eve, but he still had time to check out profiles on Facebook.
It was around 12:30 on Tuesday when I decided to say something. My stomach was upside down, and I could not sit in fight-or-flight mode anymore. I took the iPad, sat, and waited for him to emerge from his office. I sat and vibrated my knees for almost 2 1/2 hours.
As I approached him in the kitchen, he turned towards me. “Can I ask you a question?” I could hear the shakiness in my voice as I asked. However, his facial expression made it clear that he was nervous about what I was about to say.
He responded hesitantly. I picked up the iPad, opened his search bar, clicked on the first profile, and asked, “Who is this girl?”
He responded, “I don’t know.”
Then, I clicked on the second profile and asked the same question.
Again, he responded, “I don’t know.”
I opened about six profiles and ended on one with a reel playing of a younger woman with no clothes on, getting off, face down on her bed.
He said he didn’t know or had seen any of them. It was a play on words. I knew that he didn’t know any of them.
Moving on and healing, again.
Tuesday was a very difficult afternoon. Although there was no yelling or screaming, there were heavy words and questions. Phil kicked in his usual defense mode. I heard the question I was waiting for, “what were you doing on my Facebook?”
It’s amazing how quickly one ounce of doubt can become much more. On Wednesday, I had the logins to our financial institutions and diligently reviewed bank statements and credit card charges. I was looking for nothing and anything. Online purchases, movie purchases- and in the end, I knew it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The betrayal had already happened. It didn’t matter how deep the betrayal ran.
On a positive note, we have talked more this past week than in the last seven years. I asked difficult questions that should have been asked years ago. It’s important to have tough conversations and to be vulnerable and prepared for answers that may not be pleasant. My husband has a serious problem, but I need to be strong enough not to take it on as my own burden.
Last night, I was sitting at my daughter’s gymnastics practice. The waiting room overlooking the gyms was packed, as it always is. I counted 23 moms, 17 dads, and three couples. All of them watched their children complete backbends, cartwheels, and flips. I looked at the women and realized we all looked alike. We don’t have specific similar physical features, but we are all tired moms doing our best with what we have. There was not one mom there with overdone makeup. Most were make-up-free. There was not one mom there who was dressed fancy. Most were in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. The everyday Mom does not look like the subject of a pornography clip. But we are beautiful. We shine. We love. And whether or not we are appreciated at home, I hope we are all strong enough to know how important and beautiful we are.
I may be broken this week, but that splinter will be buried again.
“Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.” –Albert Camus
Until next time, XOXOX
