I'm Done

Did the title make you think I was Done with Richard?
Done with my marriage of 34 years?
I certainly see how you might think that.

To those of you still struggling in affair recovery....that's not why I'm writing today.
To the reconciliation hating nay-sayers, that isn't what this post is about at all.

To the friends I've made along my Road to Happy....this post is my virtual pat on the back.  I survived and thrived after DDay and now that part of my past is Done.

It's almost here.  The 6 year anti-versary.

Just a few years ago, I would have spent the past month agonizing over exactly what my former wayward husband was doing on any given day in the fall of 2010.
Yeah....there were lots of dates I could have stewed about these past couple of months, but I'm Done.

I'm so Done.
No...I'm not "Over it".
No...I haven't forgotten any of it.  Even if I had forgotten the details due to my less than stellar memory, I'm blessed with this blog for referrals to assist with any unnecessary memory jogging.
That wasn't sarcasm.
This blog has been and will continue to be a blessing in my life.  It was a huge part of my healing process and much to my surprise, has helped others that know the deep trauma of infidelity.
And, No....there has been no new found forgiveness in our household.
I maintain that acceptance is sufficient to facilitate a strong marriage reconciliation....at least for me.

By Done, I only mean Done with revisiting the pain.  I didn't even have a momentary twinge of heartache this year.  I don't remember have much last year either.  Guess I could check my blog archives to be sure, but I'm Done, so I won't.

6 freaking years to be Done.  That's a truly scary time-line for those fresh into the mess after DDay, but it does not need to be.
It flew by.  Every anti-versary brought me closer to being Done with all of it.

I hope you don't feel like I'm being flip about this.
I didn't just decide to be Done.
I just realized and chose to verbalize that I am Done.
I hope you don't think I'm sharing today just to wake up the blog.
I had time on my hands this morning.  I had some new emails from readers.
I looked at the calendar and considered the date.
I realized it matters not.  It could be any day.
I don't feel the melancholy tug any more.
I thought some of you might wanna know that.
I'm done and it feels great.
Hope & Hugs, my Friends.

Ya Need a Light?

It's been over 4 months since I felt my life contained anything worthy of your time....or mine, for that matter!  Seriously.  It's basic boring bliss around here and I do not mind that a bit, but it sure ain't worth wasting perfectly good idle hours pontificating about my mundane day to day Road to Happy.

So, why am I choosing to type today?
It ain't All About Me!

Probably shocking to those of you that have read my story and believe me to be the ultimate, most narcissistic, control freak of all time.  Sorry but you may have to dial back your strong opinion of me, at least for this one post.
 
Many days I still hear from readers recently swept into the cyclone that is DDay.
Somehow they reach into cyberspace and grab a handful of Crazy Town and hang on for dear life.
I fear they may find way too much dark here.
I worry that there isn't enough light to guide them.
A reader once referred to me and other betrayed wife bloggers as "Lighthouses".
Way back when I was still writing, still healing, she told me that we helped her find her way through the dark days of her infidelity storm.

I don't feel much like a lighthouse, but I could be a flashlight.

This petitte post is my way of checking the batteries on my flashlight.
I was saved by other betrayed wives that walked their Road to Happy before me.
Pulled from the dark belly of the beast of betrayal by the angels of The Healing Heart.
Now that's a lighthouse!!  The light that shines there is resplendent and brilliant!

My flashlight may be meager in comparison, but the beam is steadfast.
Please use it as needed.

You are NOT Alone.

You can comment here.
You can email me:
shawnthewife@aol.com
or visit the place of my salvation,  The Healing Heart
I still read and comment there frequently.

I'm done telling my story, but I will never be done walking my Road to Happy.
If you wanna walk with me, if you need a friend on your healing journey,
please count me in.  We can share the flashlight.

Shocker on our 5th Anti-versary

I started to write this little news flash as a comment in my previous post, but thought better of it. In my opinion, this surprising occurrence warrants it's own piece of cyberspace and I'll probably get long winded as usual!

Last month (that's September...for those of you reading at various times of the year) was the 5th Anti-versary of the time my husband temporarily lost his mind and began boffing a 24 year old girl, she who shall not be named. (At least not on this blog.  Her name sure pops up in the comments and in my email from time to time)  Lots and lots of days in that month used to trigger my ass in a big way.  I know so many details of what they did together, where they did it and on what day at which time.
Too MANY details.
That calls for a little reminder to those of you fresh into the mess of betrayal:
Ask for details if you must, but please remember this....Once you know it, you can't unknow it and the details become brainworms that can eat away at your soul.  Infidelity can cause PTSD.  PTSD can cause obsessive thinking.  Brainworms are wicked ammunition.

Back to the shocker of the moment!
This year, there wasn't a single day in month of September that drew me backward.
Oh, how I would torment myself, rehashing every day of that horrid month just a few short years ago! Hell, a year ago!
Imagine my surprise when I finally realized the month had passed with no sadness, no remorse, no heartache or melancholy of any kind.
Not a single dark memory of my husband's betrayal infected my life.

WooHoo!

That was just a surprise, a very pleasant surprise to be sure, but not a shocker.  I expected I'd get to a point where I was far enough down my Road to Happy that I couldn't see Crazy Town in my rear view mirror.  What I didn't know is that when you get to a place of real healing, you may not know you made it!  The month was almost completely over without the realization that I had truly taken a leap forward in my recovery until the shocker, happened in my damn kitchen.

Richard says this as we are cleaning up dinner dishes the other night,
"Thanks for keeping me."

In my moving on down the Road to Happy mind that remark came out of left field.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, totally giving him my confused as hell tone.

"I know what month it is."  He said quietly.  "I just wanted you to know, I know. And I'm still sorry and thank you for keeping me, keeping us."

My jaw dropped.  A bird could have flown in and nested.  I had to turn back to the sink, away from my thoughtful hubby, because I needed a minute to process what I just heard.
I didn't remember it was the 5 Year Anti-versary month, but Richard did!  I mean, I knew it was 5 years, but the month didn't matter.  The specific days had not occured to me but now here it was, being brought to the forefront of my conscious mind by my loving spouse.
Shocked.  Knock me over with a feather shocked.

In my last post I wrote that I thought Richard never wanted the affair to be spoken of again.
Shows you how much I freaking know so consider that if you read the rest of this blog!
My advice my not be worth the paper it's written on!

My ex-cheater husband shocked me into the reality that I've moved past the pain.
I couldn't tell you when it happened, but here it is.
If it wasn't for him, I might have missed the entire event.
I'm sure glad he shocked me.  Realizing I actually enjoyed September is pretty damn great.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Time to keep my word.  Seems like I've been remiss in following through on a post that I promised to write.  Good thing I have all of you out there to remind me about it!
You wanna know where we are now, almost exactly 5 years post DDay?
How are Richard and I getting along?
Is our marriage stronger?  Have we "moved on"?  Did I "get over it"?
Those answers are not at all simple and require I examine my life up close and down deep.
Not really my favorite pastime but today I will make the effort and do my best to share the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, of my reconciled marriage.

Which do you want to read about first?  The Good, the Bad or the Ugly?
Let's get the Ugly out of the way.  It will be the roughest for me to concede.

I need to preface this with...ALL humans, married, betrayed, single or otherwise, have some Ugly, some Bad and hopefully some Good.  ALL.

The Ugly of my marriage:
It seems so damn normal and I guess I just can't abide by that!
Everyday, just like all the years before DDay, an uncomplicated routine, a choreographed life that smoothly spins on point.  I should be grateful for the simplicity, but I harbor trepidation.
5 years have passed and from time to time I find myself uneasy, unable to accept that my marriage is Good.  It could be great if I had more confidence (which I used to enjoy in spades), that a bit boring and conventional is a Good thing.  No news should be Good news, Dammit!
That's the Ugly....Me and my hesitant, unreasonable lack of acceptance for finding bliss in the mundane.  My inner shrink says I never learned to be truly vulnerable and because of that, I could miss out on some of the best emotions life has to offer.

Now for the Bad:
The Bad is nothing more than slipping back into Bad habits.  We both should be speaking up when something isn't copacetic.  We aren't...well, at least I'm not.  Maybe he's happier than a squirrel with big nuts and has nothing to say, but if I'm not sure, it's time for me to ask.

I don't own the Bad in the way I do the Ugly.  For me, the Bad is about communication and how  it hasn't remained as frequent and open as it was when we were deeper into healing.   I think I spoke in an earlier post about expectations.  This is one place where they are not what I'd hoped.
In this regard, we both own the Bad.

Maybe it's the Ugly, worrisome inner workings of my battered brain that bring on my share of the Bad.  I still briefly flinch at any semblance of pre-DDay behavior.  Plain old, insignificant, behavior that would never have phased me in the least pre-DDay can give me pause and that's Bad.
Common place, hum-drum crap like....When he amps up his work-outs, I envision him getting in shape for a new young trollop.  Does that mean I think he should become a fat, out of shape old man??  Or...If he stays up later than I do, I ponder who he might be texting.  Should he come to bed when I get tired, instead of catching up on ESPN?  Hell to the No!
Ugh!  I annoy myself with the Bad!
As for Richard's share of the Bad, I know he wants the affair to go away, never to be spoken of again.    He doesn't say that, but I can still hear it.  I've mentioned he is Mr. Anti-Confrontation and he'll go way around a problem if it can be avoided.  I can't be sure if he is withholding needs or wants which is what drove us into Crazy Town 5 years ago!
We gotta get back to sharing.  That would be Good.

I'm glad I decided to end with the Good:
Don't want any of you to think I'm saying the Road to Happy is a Dead End.
The Good out weighs the Bad & the Ugly put together times 100!
We are grateful. We have deep, daily appreciation for even the smallest things.
Richard is tuned into me.  He pays attention.  He might not vocalize what he sees or feels, but I know he cares.  I'm ever so much more tuned into him.  Paying attention to your spouse is a very Good thing.   Even through the routine of our day, we notice and aknowledge our connection.
Not only do we love each other, we like each other.  We plan our futures together.  I love talking about what we'll do when we retire. I don't want to grow old with anyone else!

I could type a thousand things that are Good, but I'll save us all some precious time and sum it up.
My family is whole.  My kids are great.  I love my husband and I am loved in return.  It's a love so strong it survived Crazy Town.
I will always place my focus on the Good and I'm really gonna work to eliminate the Bad.  I may need a new therapist for my Ugly!
Bottom line, my friends...5 years post DDay, I'm really Good.
Thanks for asking.

Lessons Learned in the Trenches of Adultery

I need help from those of you that have followed my escape from Crazy Town.  You made it out, too.  You all have Walked the Road to Happy.  Many times it was my readers that pulled and pushed me along the Road.  I'm asking you to help those that may still be reading.  I'm not enough.
Here's what I hope to hear from each of you....
After you rode the tsunami of betrayal, after you struggled to survive the rough, raging breaker all the way to safety on the shore of reconciliation, did you feel like you learned anything from the traumatic experience?
At the very least, we learned we are stronger than we ever imagined.

 I feel like I learned a royal shit-ton.  I spent years on this blog writing about the tumult of my life A Year After the Affair.  The writing opened doors of my psyche I needed to explore to find a way to walk ahead on my Road to Happy.
Now, nearly 5 years after DDay, my marriage is good.  I wouldn't say great.  We've started to fall back into a few less than desirable patterns.  I still have walls that need to be torn down or at least pushed back, and I know Richard wants more than I am able to give...at least for now.  But this post isn't about that.  I'll write more about that later.  I didn't mean to venture off and don't mean to leave you hanging.  Sorry.
Suffice it to say...we're good, just not great right at this juncture on the Road.

Back to the purpose of this post:
I wrote, people read (still shocks the crap out of me!), they commented and I absorbed the sage advice offered and was often enlightened.  I really want to spread some of that love around.
Even though my blog has been dormant, I still receive email almost daily asking me for advice.

Why do they read my story and then ask ME for advice?? I chalk it up to desperation.  We all felt it after DDay.
When the life you thought you knew so well turns out to be based on an inconceivable lie, the downward spiral begins.  We grab at anything to gain a momentary toe-hold.
Reaching into cyber space for help from the likes of me....A former resident of Crazy Town...is not gonna slow your fall for long, but if I can moderate the momentum and maybe alter the direction of the descent, I'm gonna reach back every time.

For any of you still reading, today I'm reaching back with a couple of knowledge nuggets that feel valuable to me.  Let's call them Lessons Learned in the Trenches of Adultery.
Forgive me if I sound like Captain Obvious from the battle of Infidelity.

1.  My marriage will always be a work in progress.  I know that the Road to Happy is a journey...not a destination.  So damn cliche', but accurate nevertheless.
2.  I am responsible for my own happiness.  No one can give it to me and if someone tries to take it, I'll find a way to get it back.
3.  Trust is an illusion. Boundaries are tangible and necessary.
4. Normal is not definable.  Everyone has their own normal.
5.  Yesterday only matters if we learn from it.  I'm all about today, tomorrow and gratitude.

I guess that's it.  That's really all I've got since I'm kind of talking general, constructive attitude adjustments.  I could bather on about specifics...like Let the Bitch-Whore Go, but I'm loathe to bore you further unless specific questions are asked.

Help a girl out, will ya?  What did you learn, my friends?  What can you share that might just speak to another broken hearted spouse sliding into the abyss after DDay?  My contributions will never equal the wisdom of my readers.  Please, if you can, take a minute to post an encouraging word or a practical warning.  When you start thinking about it, you might be surprised at all the lessons you've learned.  The lessons never cease to amaze me.

Pity Pang

Hello, friends and lurking Trolls!  I've missed you!  I hope today finds you well and walking the Road to Happy with solid, stable ground beneath your boots.

My blog has been in a cryogenic sleep, of sorts.  My intent was to warm it up to wake it up should something feel worthwhile to share.  That happened about 10 minutes ago.  It might not be anything new or all that interesting to you, but it struck a chord in an area of my core that hasn't been active in many moons.
I'm hoping the awakening may serve the greater good.

This morning, while enjoying a nice cup of black tea and a luxurious breakfast of bacon and eggs, I lazily scanned my Facebook page and saw this:

A little background:  A friend of mine, let's call her Rita, phoned me last week and announced her marriage to a very immature husband, we'll refer to him as Shit-for-Brains (Maybe SFB to be expedient) was over and she needed my husband's help.  (to refresh your memory...Richard is a family law attorney.)  Rita, in the pain and the confusion of her 3rd DDay with SFB found this ECard humorous enough to share with the world on her Facebook Page.  Her comment posted with the Card was, "This made me laugh!"  Followed by numerous 'laughing with tears dropping' emoticons.

Don't wanna skip past the fact that this is the 3rd DDay for her.  THIRD DDay.  That's right.  Strike freakin' three.  Me thinks those tears falling from the smiling emoticon aren't really from laughing. Rita is blessed with a beautiful 3 year old son and is expecting her daughter to arrive in 2 months.  Now, instead of enjoying the last few weeks of her pregnancy with her loving spouse, she is planning a divorce.  There are no more chances for SFB.  This time the other woman, so thoughtfully referred to here as the Bitch-Whore or BW, is pregnant with SFB's third kid.

What motivated me to post was the PANG.  I read the ECard snippet and there was a nearly audible PANG in my heart.  I don't think about She Who Shall Not Be Named anymore, even though there are a couple of trolls who like to comment now and then and share updates of her sorry life with me.  (weird, right?)
But the PANG returned She Who Shall Not Be Named momentarily to the forefront of my mind.

I didn't feel pain or regret or even anger.  Here's the kicker....
I FELT PITY!  A Pang of Pity! A PITY Pang!!

The Pang compelled me to write.  I want to type a stern warning to all Bitch Whores (I know that name doesn't make my feelings of pity seem very sincere, but I assure you, I do feel the Pity Pang) about the errors of their sinful ways.  I wanted to wave a white flag and offer a a bit of wisdom that most women are privy too, but must be allusive to the majority of BWs that, as the EComic so eloquently proclaims, Just Don't Get It.
Here we go.....Head's up BWs or any readers out there considering becoming a BW in the future:
REAL love is never based on lies!  NEVER!  You can try to convince yourself that your man just needs time.   Or...the evil wife is using his kids against him.   Or...you are soul mates.  If you can only have half of him, that's all you need.  He gives you the best of himself.
WAKE UP!
PLEASE, BWs of the world!!  Do not buy into that steaming pile of excrement!  You deserve better.
Anyone deserves better...even delusional BWs.
I pity the BWs that rationalize away the lies.
I despise the Liars.

I get that some BWs are lied to and kept in the dark about the wife and the other life.  But, those BWs deserve our pity as well, because how dumb do you have to be to not wonder why you are never able to visit your boyfriend's house?  Or, what is the density of your cranium if your TRUE love never wants to sleep over to wake up with you?  That's a serious lack of IQ points.  Pathetic.

I knew I'd post when I thought I had something that might be useful, informative or at the very least eye opening to me.  I never imagined it would be a Pity Pang for BWs.

For the betrayed spouses reading....Maybe this post can be of help to some of you, too.  No one expects you to feel pity for the BW.  Oh, HELL NO!  I had a solid 2 years of intense hatred and visceral animosity going for She Who Shall Not Be named.  After that, it was a couple more years of basic apathy.
But just look where I am now!  My Pity Pang is just one more sign that I've moved way ahead on my Road to Happy.  It seems I've walked much further than I realized.  It feels right to share that with you.

My heart aches for Rita.  She is just beginning to walk the Road.  I'm gonna walk with her and try to show her the way.

You Can Call me Elsa

Anyone totally over the whole Frozen phenomenon?  Anybody have a princess wanna-be kiddo that must listen to the infernal melody made famous by the extraordinary Idina Menzel?  Any of you HATE hearing the aggravating, trigger making, insipid recommendation ..."Let it Go"?

I was never a fan of those three words and I could do without hearing that song ever again BUT....
You know what?  I'm thinking it might do me a world of good to Let it Go.

(WARNING...this post may cause you to feel nauseous due to plentiful Polly Anna Platitudes...all delivered with the best intentions)

 I'm embracing my inner Elsa.  I'm starting to think life might be too short to hold on to anything that doesn't bring me joy or peace of mind or love or satisfaction in some positive way.  Rhetoric like that used to make me wanna hurl as my eyes rolled back so far in my head I could see my own brain, but I'm trying to Let that negative attitude Go.

I'm fairly certain all betrayed spouses are forever changed in many ways after DDay.  For me, that reality is undeniable.  Before DDay, I was a force to be reckoned with and most people will tell you I could hold a grip on a grudge for longer than I care to admit, but I wasn't really into the revenge enterprise nor did I dwell on payback.
For the first year after DDay, I was harder, colder and more willing to put up a fight to the end than I have ever been in my entire life.  I built walls around me, named those walls Crazy Town and proceeded to make sure my new dwelling earned it's named in a memorable way.  When I lived there, I wouldn't Let Anything Go!  Not a freaking thing!  If something ruffled my feathers or chapped my bootie, I held to it as tight as a hungry python wraps up a long awaited meal.  It took me days or weeks to digest my anger over minutia that I made into mountains.
Looking back, it pains me how much time I lost being pissed off.

Guess I'll have to Let that regret Go.

What brought me to this well of divine acceptance?
The trivial dispute with aforementioned SI Crazed Web Master.  I was ready to sue the bi-yotch.  Give many hours of my life away that I'd never get back just to have the last word.  I felt I had to stand up for myself.  Convince her she was wrong about me.  I couldn't let her think she was right.
Well, that was just wrong.  You all told me as much.
The only choice is to Let it Go.

Letting Go is scary for many reasons.  Remember playing on the monkey bars as a kid? Tough to Let Go and drop down, right?   Or, when we teach our kids to ride bikes, we push them along and at some point, we gotta Let Go and hope (trust) they won't fall and break a limb!
For betrayed spouses, it's so different.  Emotional Letting Go is the most frightening of all.
When we try to Let Go of our pain, our anger or our sorrow it feels like we're allowing our self-centered, self-indulgent, cheating partners off the proverbial hook.  If we Let Go of the brain worms, the hatred of the OW or our soul protecting mistrust we are opening up our battered hearts to potential annihilation.
I was never good at Letting Go, even before DDay.  After DDay I took that undesirable, isolating personality flaw and amplified it 100 fold.  This little confrontational episode, with a great deal of help from you, may have saved me from myself.
I took a step back and like Elsa says, "It's funny how some distance, makes everything seem small and the fears that once controlled me, can't get to me at all."

I would never suggest that anyone struggling after DDay, "Let it Go."  To each her own time frame.
But for me.....I'm really gonna try to Let More Go.  I don't wanna harbor negativity anymore.  It leeches into all parts of my life.  It causes collateral damage.
If I let the actions of others influence my attitude, then I have nobody to blame but myself.
I can't see myself Letting Everything Go.  I mean, I have quite a bit of cynical DNA hardwired in, but I will remember to TRY and Let it Go whenever I can.
As far as Holding on to DDay anger...Sing it with me...
"I'm never going back...The Past is in the Past.  Let it Go!"

What to Do? The Bitch be Crazy!

What to do?  What to do?
I really don't wanna make a mountain out of ant hill, but I'm pissed because I was publicly dissed!  I guess I should tell you right up front that this has nothing to do with Richard.  He's pissed about this burr in my bootie, as well.  Although, he cusses about it much  less.  Who is the target of my infamous wrath today?
THE WEBMASTER of Surviving Infidelity.  

In my last post I told you that someone had started a thread on SI about my blog.  It raised the number of page views here on my sordid story substantially.  After I commented on that thread, it was locked by the board moderators.  I didn't really know why at the time.

Got an email from a moderator because I had asked for help figuring out why my post showed up on the thread as Robin***??  Don't know Robin and I apologize for accidentally hijacking her username.
The moderator was most helpful.  She worked to correct the cyber snafu, suggested I re-register.  She then explained to me that promoting my blog was not allowed on their site.
No sweat.  It's not like I'm looking to raise the advertising revenue on my homepage.

I posted a few more times after I re-registered as Shawnthewife. That's what I thought my username was three years ago when I checked out the site the first time, a year after DDay, when I finally figured out I might find help healing online.  It was right about when I started this blog.

Turns out, back then I registered as Betrayed Blogger.
Quite catchy and memorable, right??
Not so much.  I had no clue.
I can't remember what I had for breakfast by lunch on most days.  Who in the hell remembers usernames from three years ago??
Anyway...I posted a few more times.  Thought maybe I'd give SI another shot.  I hadn't liked it back then.  Too big.  Too impersonal.  Too crowded!  The Healing Heart was a much better fit.  Not always a lot of action, but when you need the select few that have been on that board for years, they will never let you down.  You get to know the pain laden souls that pass through pretty well.  We become like family after just a few exchanges.  I'd sing the praises of that fabulous forum further, but I digress.

In a few subsequent posts on SI that day, I did mention my blog, not in every post, maybe half.  I never gave the name and I certainly never posted a link.  Here's where the trouble started...

The person that originally started the thread about my blog, started another thread asking why the first had been locked??  She posted:
Does anyone know why my post about a blog was locked and want that even means? I think I have become the rebel of SI. Me, a Midwestern housewife.

And after a few other responses I wrote this:
After several emails with SI administrators, I think I know. 
It was a couple of things. First, I had that weird log in issue. When I commented in your thread about my blog, it showed up as Robin somebody. That little SNAFU had to be checked out by the web master. 
Plus...I was chastised not to promote my blog on this forum, which I never intended to do. I mean, I haven't for 3 years. Why start now? I think when you posted a link to my blog they took that down pronto. 
So...it was locked due to concern of possible blog promotion and technical web site buggery. 
Anyway...I think that's what happened. Either way, I'm really glad you posted because that post brought me back here. Lots of amazing, constructive, compassionate conversations happen here. 
I still have much to learn about life after an A.

And then we hear from The Webmaster, AKA - Mangledheart.  She didn't care for my comment one little bit:
 First, I've read the exchange you had with the Administrator and you were not "chastised" in the least. The Administrator simply stated that this site was not to be used to promote your blog. Which by posting about your blog again you are clearly doing.

Second, I researched the records last night and your shawnthewife profile was originally rejected because you already had another profile at the time. You then apparently had someone register on your behalf a few days later using the name Robin*** which was approved. That is the profile you activated which is why it was attached to your post the other night on the thread C***e is referring to.

OK...I used flowery verbiage.  Maybe chastised was the wrong word so I apologized to her, via a very nice and professional email, you can read it below, saying just that.  I also asked why she accused me of misrepresenting myself and having someone register on my behalf?

I mean...WTF??  Who would do that and why??  SI isn't Homeland Security, for craps sake!  In the email, I told her I wanted a public apology because she just slandered me.  I hadn't done a thing wrong expect maybe express myself in too colorful a manner and reach out to some new recovering betrayed spouses.  I sure as hell never "had anyone register on my behalf".

She obviously thought me deceitful enough to block me for 24 hours from SI.   So, I wrote the moderator that had helped me reregister and asked why I was blocked?  Could they please clarify the rules about "promoting my blog" and I included the link I used to access the forum that had the weird Robin username.  They had asked me for it so of course I sent it.  I wanted to help figure out the problem.
Hell, I was the one that brought the weird username to their attention to begin with!! Why would I do that if I was trying to sneak around or promote my blog secretly or I just have no life and like to make shit up!!  UGH!  So stupid!!
The moderator must have sent my questions to the Crazed Web Master and it was ON!
When I received her first email, I had to step back, regroup and count to 50.   I instantly came down with Tourette's Syndrome!  Luckily, only my dogs where home to witness it.   I wanted to type something like - Bitch, you Crazy!- and hit send.
She had broken down every line of my email, twisting the words to suit her attitude!  That email was quite extensive, so I won't copy it here, but she made her point quite clear.  She thinks I am a big, fat fucking liar looking to lure poor betrayed spouses.  She used nicer words, like blatantly false statements, but her opinion of me was woefully apparent...big, fat fucking liar.

Instead of sending the Crazy Bitch remark email,  I took a deep breath and paused to regain composure.  More flies with honey and all that.  I replied with this:

MH;  Sorry to bother you as I realize you are probably a volunteer, but I hope we can discuss this misunderstanding further.  You publicly accused me of misrepresenting myself on the thread to all the members.  This is slanderous diatribe.  I never re-registered under a false name NOR did I have anyone do that for me.  I merely forgot I had registered previously under betrayed blogger.  That was years ago.  If you believed there was major policy violations taking place you could have locked the thread or removed it completely.  Instead, you chose to “chastise” me on a public thread on your forum, blatantly questioning my honest intent.

I truly do not want this to go any further.  I am willing to let it go, but I deserve a public apology for your false statement regarding my integrity.

Oh..and about the word “chastised”…..  I guess I’ll have to ask for your forgiveness for my flowery vocabulary as I never meant it to sound derogatory.  If you google the definition you’ll see…yes it can mean "criticized severely" but it can also mean "to restrain or refine”. 

Please remember, I came to the admin volunteers first asking for help re: the Robin username.  Why on earth would I do that if I was being subversive?

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Thank you for your time,

Shawn, the wife

After receiving the following reply, I began to understand that this volunteer must have some kind of Napoleonic persona and lots of time on her hands.  She sent me this:

Above is the Google listed definition of chastise.  This is an obvious attempt by you to misrepresent what you intended with that post.   Anybody reading that post would have interpreted it as derogatory.  Chastise was archaically defined as restrain or refine.  Even the example you stated “criticized severely” is the second entry of the definition on Dictionary.com.  The first entry is “to discipline, especially by corporal punishment.”

By using that term you misrepresented your conversation with the Administrator.  You also lied regarding remembering the BetrayedBlogger profile.   Our server logs show the last activity on that profile was 2/11/2014 which was the same day you registered and were rejected as shawnthewife.

I stand by my statements.   It doesn’t matter whether you registered the profile Robin*** or someone else did it on your behalf.  You clearly activated the profile Robin*** which means you possessed the activation notice containing the activation link.  The server logs make that very clear.  This is not “buggery” as you also falsely stated.  

We deal with violations on our forums as we see fit.  I chose to address you publically with the support of staff because you lied about your conversation with the Administrator.   You also once again chose to talk about your blog and suggested our software was bugged and that caused you to post as robin***.  I will not allow your false accusations to stand unopposed on the website we have voluntarily operated for 12 years.

You can see where this is going, right??  No where fast...that's where.
This Power Crazed volunteer Web Master was right about one thing.  I did try to sign onto SI back in February, 2014.  I had forgotten that.  (Shocker.)  But, with my memory rebooted, I recalled that I had asked for help signing in back then because I couldn't remember my password or username.   In response to that request, the moderator sent me a link....The weird Robin one that I used this time.  I never used it then.  I guess my momentary interest in visiting SI passed rather quickly.  But I had saved the link so I used it this time around.  Are you able to understand any of this cluster fuck??
Truth...I have no clue what happened.  On the thread, I called it "buggery".  The Crazed Web Master didn't like that either.  My creative vocabulary was flagrantly misused according to her book of posting rules.
Damn!  She would hate my blog!!  LOL!

If you have read this far...thanks.  I'm am sure most will have lost interest way before now.
Here was my last email to the Crazed Web Master:
Your vehemence is astounding!  I have no idea why you insist my intentions were to besmirch your volunteers!  Or, why you refuse to believe that I never intended to activate a profile that wasn't mine.  I only used the link that was emailed to me.  

I really don't want to make your job difficult, but I can't allow you to slander me publicly.  I did not lie, not once.  

Perhaps it is best if you and I do not continue our discussion.  If you have a superior at SI, I would like to address them before I seek legal recourse.  Please forward our correspondence to the person that I should be addressing.

I am truly sorry you have chosen to assume the worst in the situation.  This is a mountain made out of a pathetic mole hill.

I will expect to hear from someone in authority by next week or I will contact an attorney.

Once again, I thank you for your time.  I only regret it was not more productive.

Shawn, the wife

Haven't heard a peep from her.
Richard thinks I should call an attorney.  Actually, he already did.  I just have to follow up.  Richard says it's not so much slander as liable because it was a false accusation in written form.
I think I have bigger fish to fry.  I mean laundry seems like a bigger fish than this bullshit but I am more than a tad pissed.  If I never post on SI again...do I care?  The posts about me and the blog are probably buried deep by now.  That place has some massive turn over.
If I turn the other cheek am I condoning the Crazed Web Master's misrepresentation of me?
What to do??  What to do??
What would you do??

Missed You!

In over 3 years, I have never been away from this blog for such an extended length of time.  I was checking for new comments every few days, but rarely responding and never staying on the pages for more than a few minutes.  I took a break for numerous reasons.

First:  Hello, Holidays!  The velocity of life most surely amps up during December leaving little spare time for contemplating matters as lofty as infidelity.

Second:  I have no interest in typing just to take up cyber-space.  Most of my posts over the years had purpose.  I needed to fix me.  I was compelled to tell my story to help me heal.  Hopefully it has served to guide a few other betrayed spouses to find their own Road to Happy, as well.
Until today, I had nothing worth sharing. (this one might not be either!)  I have been skipping on down my Road to Happy (LOL!  Now, that's an image!) with few speed bumps.  I may have crossed onto a trail known as "Ordinary".  My life feels almost conventional and typical, but not unexceptional.
:::Anyone that ventures into Crazy Town (me me me!) and finds their way back out deserves the label of exceptional. Our lives are exceptional in that we have survived severe trauma.  As those of you reading, beat back the beast of betrayal, remember to recognize small achievements as you walk on and give yourself props.  Negativity abounds during recovery.  Open your eyes to the positive:::

Third:  The page views of this story have jumped from around 300 - 500 a day....to 2000!  I briefly considered Kim Jong Un might have interest in adultery!  But, nope.  South Korea hasn't been reading.   It's almost all from the good ole' USA.  I've learned a couple of things about navigating around the world wide web and I spent some time searching for the new traffic sources.  Here's where I ended up....Surviving Infidelity.
A member of that gigantic online support forum had found my blog and shared it with the group in a post that was later locked.  Not sure why, but no matter.  The message was delivered.  It seems that lots of betrayed spouses, hoping to reconcile, think my story is...what's the word???
Compelling?  Informative? Entertaining?
I think it's more like Cringe Worthy!!!  Whatever the reason, I welcome them to the family and hope they share their stories.  As I always say, walking the Road to Happy is so much smoother when you walk with others that have crossed the complicated paths previously.

And Lastly:  I miss you, People!  I wasn't pandering when I called the readers here "family".  Many times you have been my lifeline.  I thought writing it all down would help me heal, but that would never have been sufficient.  You, my friends, were a crucial part of my recovery.  You held my hand and dragged my ass out of Crazy Town.  I'm forever grateful.
I couldn't stay away any longer.  Still, I don't want to bore you.  I hope I never forget that I am writing for all of us now.  If you could, please take a minute and comment about what you want to talk about.  Let's make this a community blog.  I've never claimed to be a sage or expertly knowledgeable about recovering from an affair.  You all have the same thing I do...experience.   That's worth sharing.

It's been too long.  I promise to try and step out of my typical life.  I'm gonna get back on the Road to Happy with you more frequently.
Happy 2015, my Dear Readers!!  Hope & Hugs!

Making Your Day Better....Yea, Right!!

Someone sent  me an email this morning.  Subject: Making Your Day Better.
It was full of Hallmark card worthy snippets, accompanied by an applicable, placid photo intended to motivate the reader to search their hearts for Serenity Now and to turn any sad-sack Eeyore into a positive Pooh Bear during a read that could be completed on the crapper in a snapper!

Nothing like Instant Inspiration before breakfast to bring out the sarcasm in me.

Why I didn't hit delete as soon as I spotted the sappy subject line escapes me at the moment.  I guess I was still a little drowsy so I scrolled down the page, as I pursed my lips and squinshed up my face in  a flagrant indignant expression sure to make any Mom warn, "Keep it up and your face is gonna stick that way!"  I was way into judgmental mode.

I know you have heard me preach like Polly Anna.  I know I lecture on attitude and owning your happiness.  I rarely miss a chance to encourage a betrayed spouse, stuck in a DDay quagmire, to focus on what is good in their lives.  Hell...I just wrote about that in my last post, Lost & Found.
So why am I being such a Negative Nelly about potentially beneficial, uplifting messages?

Because one of them struck a sour chord in me.  I might have to take a hard look at myself today and for the next few weeks.  This is the flowery blurb that made me think...and I hate that!

Well, Crap!  These 8 simple words seemed to be screaming, "Shawn!  I know your brain still goes there every damn day!  What's up with that, Sister?"

Let the meeting begin...HI,  I'm Shawn and I'm a betrayed spouse. I'm over 4 years post DDay and I'm more than positive that I made the right choice to stay and repair my marriage.  Reconciliation was the path for me.  No doubt.  BUT...me thinks I missed a section of the healing highway.  I ignored the overpass called "forgiveness".   If forgiveness was to be found on the high road...that would explain a lot.

Sure, I rationalized that sorry is just a word and forgiveness isn't tangible.  Actions are the only way to know beyond a reasonable doubt if your wayward partner is truly penitent.  Time is my friend and as it passes, my heart will be repaired.
Readers ask me all the time.....How much fucking time are we talking about???
How I wish I knew!

Why can't I say I forgive Richard?  Why have I fought the absolution option for so long?  The quote above tells me my unmerciful heart is the reason my cynical brain replays fragments of Richard's time with She Who Shall Not be Named over 4 freaking years ago!
Does the heart really wield that much power over the brain?  I always thought it was the other way around.  I lived (past tense??) by the credo that mind over matter and genuine confidence can save the soul.  I didn't need no stinkin' forgiveness!

Today I'm admitting I still think about IT at least for a few minutes everyday.  Something pops into my head about IT with no warning and seemingly no trigger to provoke the memory much more frequently than I am willing to accept.  Maybe it isn't about WILL.  Maybe it's about absolution.
I'm asking you AND myself....Does the answer to releasing my mind from occasional Brain Worm bondage require me to open my heart?  Please ponder this question with me.
To lighten my heart, do I have to forgive?

Lost & Found

There is a word, other than Crazy, that most accurately describes my personal psyche for a Year After the Affair....LOST.
Infidelity = LOSS on a massive scale.

When we are unwillingly dumped into the ranks of the betrayed, we lose a lifetime of learning to trust in a micro-minute.  We lose the basic feeling of comfort in our home and hearth.  We lose faith in the person we should be able to have complete faith in at all times.  We lose the ability to imagine any happiness in our future.  We lose our normal life and all the security that came with it.

We also may lose ourselves.  The most important thing I lost was me.  My husband's selfish choices robbed me of my self-esteem and the inner strength I had grown to depend on when times got tough.

I told you I didn't feel like I had much to contribute to a continued discussion on recovery after an affair.  I told you a story.  You don't have to be an author to tell a story.  It's all there for you.  Just start typing and the facts of the events fill in the blank page.  I'm not a writer.  I'm no one's idea of a reliable therapist.  I'm not even a strong example of affair recovery.  If I'm going to continue to write and any of you find my musings worthy of perusing,  I think a decent place to start is to address LOSS because so many of you write to me about it.

Maybe we can share our feelings of LOSS and then offer ideas to how we became FOUND.

Let me start:  If I knew then what I know now, even though I loss all trust in my husband, I would have worked much harder to maintain trust in myself.  Today, I often preach that we can't control the actions of others.  We can only control how we react to them.

If you read any of my story you know I LOST all control over my reactions to anything related to Richard, She who Shall not be Named and the affair.  I understand why that happened, but I believe that it won't happen again.  (please note: I didn't say will never happen again.  Never doesn't live here anymore.)  The big difference is I refuse to allow the behavior of anyone else to dictate my life.  I make decisions for myself and for the benefit of those I love.  I can do that without touring Crazy Town because I have FOUND my inner strength again.  I might be tougher than ever.
I know trust is very hard to come by for many of you right now, but please try to trust me on this....you can learn to trust yourself again.  As your pain recedes, you will find your inner Princess of Power.  Trust her.  She has your best interest at heart.

Please comment.  Share what you LOST after DDay,
but then try to focus on what you FOUND.

4 Years After the Affair

Today isn't 4 Years after the affair.  The title implies that but it's not exactly accurate.  I mean, Richard and she who shall not be named started their affair weeks before I pulled my head out of my Polly Anna ass, saw the vigorously waving red flags and confronted my wayward husband.
 
Today is PRECISELY 4 YEARS SINCE DDAY.  October 12th, 2010, my world disintegrated.  My husband told me he had "deep feelings" for another woman....girl...whatever.  He might have said "strong feelings."  Again...whatever.
The point is I can't remember! Or...maybe I choose not to remember.  If I didn't decide to write down my emotional/mental state on the blog today, anti-versary #4 would have passed me by like any other Sunday, except for this subtly surprising feeling of contentment and optimism.

On my first anti-versary, I could have told you EXACTLY how DDay went down in our kitchen and on our patio and on the phone after I made him leave.  I rehashed every tear, each moment of despair and every single detail of the time he spent with her.  I wallowed in the agony, reread each email they shared and shut down like a coffin lid closing on my marriage.

By my 2nd anti-versary, I was still pretty clear about each syllable we uttered to each other that first fateful day.  I was very tender and Richard could feel it.  Out of pure necessity, his senses had become acutely in sync with my emotional state.
We had tried to anticipate how the day might unfold, tried to be prepared for Royal Bitch or Debbie Downer while hoping intensely I could just summon Shawn to show up for duty.  Richard continued to do what he had done since the original DDAY...he followed my lead and we managed to survive the dismal day unscathed and without turmoil but there was little joy in our hearts.

I can't tell you exactly what happened on our 3rd anti-versary.  I could scroll back through the blog and see if I wrote about it.  I'm guessing it didn't suck that hard because nothing stands out.  I'm gonna call that a win for my forward momentum on the Road to Happy and let it go at that.

NOW...about today...anti-versary Numero Quatro!!  A couple of hours ago I realized that I have had a Cheshire Cat kind of smirk on my face all day.  (maybe because I had a lovely round of morning sex)
While shoving a ton of denim in the washer.... (My family creates an exorbitant amount of laundry in 3 shorts days!  It's freaky.)  Grinning.
As I was picking out Gala apples at Stater Brother's grocery store.... (fall is the best time of the year for a juicy apple.) Grinning.
Typing these words right now..... (hopefully to entertain or inspire)
That's right...Totally Grinning.  

I want to shout it from the roof:  I recovered from marital mayhem!
Today is like no other, to be sure, but not because I am dwelling on the worst day of my life.  Quite the contrary!  I am patting myself on the back for never giving up.  So many times I could've.  I'm certain many people out there reading think I should've.  But 4 years after the affair I know, with true perfect clarity that only comes with a great deal of passing time, I made the right choice for me.

I wasn't going to acknowledge today, but I have shared a whole hell of a lot of bad.  It seems like some counter balance is needed.  If you're reading, I want you to feel a little more hopeful today.  Reconciliation might be the hardest thing you'll ever do, but I'm here to assure you...it ain't impossible.  If I can do it...you can, too.
Richard and I survived Crazy Town and lived to tell you the tale 4 years after the affair.
How awesome it feels to be celebrating my successes today rather than wallowing in past failures.

Anti-versary #4 can kiss my ever-so-gratified and satisfied ass!!  LOL!

One more thing...most of you that emailed me after my last post wanted me to write about what Richard did to help me on the Road to Happy.  You want to know what worked for me.
I'll try to do that real soon, but for now maybe you could just try what's working for me today...Focus on what is good in your life.  Relish it.  Embrace it.
Leave the ugliness in a mental lock box for a while.  Hide the freaking key!
Make a conscience effort to choose to be happy and eventually you might find yourself happy through no effort at all.

Where to go from Here?

I've been taking a little time to consider where this blog should go from here.  When I started writing on December 1st, 2011, I had less than no idea of where this path on my Road to Happy might take me.  Back then, I didn't even know about the elusive Road to Happy.   I couldn't see anything joyful.  I was much too wrapped up in my misery.
At that low point, the Road to Happy was an unknown entity.  Since DDay in October of 2010,  I had established residence in Crazy Town.  To find a Road to Happy that led out of that dismal, convoluted habitat I required the combined skills of Vasco de Gama and Sigmund Freud....OR other betrayed spouses that had traveled the Road before me.  They were my Map.   This blog was the path that led me to that map.

That first day, when I turned to the screen of my iMac longing for an electronic epiphany, I don't remember what I was looking for.  I know I started the blog before I began to surf the web searching for other possible remedies for my plight.  I spent hours that first day online.
Where in the hell did I get the idea to write a blog?  Beats me.  I had never read a blog, any blog, not even one about cooking or child rearing or the latest fashion trends.  Before that day, I had never visited a single web site that offered advice about Surviving Infidelity. (which was the first online forum I found.  It was so big it over-whelmed me.  One size does not fit all.  Soon I found the Healing Heart. It was a much better fit.  I felt so safe there.)
Googling 'how to heal after you discover your spouse is a cheating bastard' just never occurred to me.  Guess I'm kind of old school, but more than that....I think I wasn't ready to start walking my Road until I was ready to let "She who will no longer be named" go.
(That's right.  No more "J" name around here.  I might refer to her in a derogatory way from time to time, but I will not be typing her name on the pages of this blog again)

When you're ready to find your Road and take strong strides forward, you'll know.   It's a surge in your attitude, good or bad.  It could be a renewed sense of determination....or in my case, elevated desperation.  That's when you'll reach out for help.  It might be in the form of finding a new therapist.  Maybe a lengthy trip to the local Barnes and Noble self help section.  For me, it was extended time in cyber space and an urgency to empty the venom out of my soul.

Now that my story of "A Year After the Affair" is done, we have an opportunity to morph this blog into whatever we desire.  Here's the way I see it...
I'll do my best to post when I have a fresh thought I deem beneficial to other betrayed spouses in need of a little GPS. (Girl Powered Support!)
BUT....this blog would be better, greater, helpfuler, (that should be a real word!) if All of You shared your experiences here as well.  We should work together to transform this blog from it's beastly beginnings to a safe sanctuary for others that have yet to find their map, or even the desire to start looking for their Road to Happy.
Please send any topics, questions or experiences you want to share to my email:  Shawnthewife@aol.com
All views and members of the adultery triangle welcome with one stipulation only...
No haters allowed!
That's it.  Simple enough.

Thank you for being my Map, my guides and my motivation.
This blog was the first path on my Road to Happy.  I really hope it can be a least a stepping stone on the Road for other betrayed spouses, too.
Hope & Hugs, my Friends.

The End of Jaymie...For Real!

~~~Thanks so much for your patience as I worked to finish the story of my day in court.  This last post got a little protracted and took way too much time to write, but I promised I would finish this weekend and I did!  Go me!!~~~

After 'D' propitiously placed Nikki and I as far away from Jaymie and the Back Up Boys as possible in the rather cramped quarters of the court room, he retreated.  To where, I had no idea.  I couldn't very well turn around to see where he had ventured off to because to do so, meant showing a full face frontal to Jaymie and the Back Up Boys.  (do I stay with the new combined male moniker or apply the old handles of Daddy James and Geek Boy Kevin?  Back Up Boys seems to be so much more concise and expedient.  Wish I had thought of it sooner.  But...it is the last time I intend to write their respective names in this blog except maybe in the comments section....Perhaps they deserve to be declared individually....Mmmmmm.....pondering....wasting screen space and your time....Sorry about that....I'm gonna go with specific personalization since this is their last hurrah!  I'm certain they would appreciate the extra effort of the additional key strokes.)
Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  Where in the hell was 'D' going?  Nikki whispered, almost in panic mode, "Where's he going?  Why is he leaving us here?  Don't you feel vulnerable without him?"

NOPE.  I didn't.  I can't really explain it.  Nerves should have had me fidgeting and uptight.  You'd think I'd have been straining to keep my morning tea down.  At the very least, I should have needed to pee again in a major way.
My calm and unruffled demeanor surprised and pleased me.  I almost felt like the Old Me.  Strong.  Confident.  Self-reliant.  Maybe even a little Spunky!  I don't mean I was gonna jump up and get all sassy and bossy with the judge and bailiff in close proximity, I'm merely saying I felt OK about whatever was gonna happen.
What were the possible outcomes here?
1.  Jaymie gets her way and decides to fight it out with me. We share stories of despicable debauchery  with anyone within ear shot and in the end I am slapped with a restraining order listed with all law enforcement agencies in the country for three years.  OR...
2.  Jaymie backs her skinny ass down and we stick with the Non-Clets order, also valid for three years, the judge approves it, we sign it and Richard and Jaymie get to retain some small measure of dignity by not discussing their shameful behavior in open court.

Either way....I'm golden, People!  Jaymie will be out of my life.  Sure, I preferred the second scenario because always getting the extra pat-down when you fly could get old, but other than that, I just wasn't overly concerned.  Jaymie and I both wanted the same thing. (No, I don't mean Richard.)  She wanted me WAY gone and I finally wanted no more of her either.
This would be my Independence Day no matter the outcome.

Nikki and I sat quietly and listened to the first few cases.  MAN!  There are some authentically fucked up people on the planet! (I know. For a while, I was one of them.) Scary shit.  I'm not kidding.  To this day, I wonder if this one woman that was seeking a permanent order against a stalker old boyfriend is living safe and sound.  Made me shudder!  I sent some nasty emails and visited a church.  That guy was following the poor woman everywhere and trashing her property.
Put anything in perspective, Jaymie??  Maybe we could make this go away, huh?

Again...NOPE.  'D' comes back and quietly spoke to me saying he had been talking with Jaymie in the hall and she wanted to move forward with the Clets order.  He could not convince her otherwise. Our case would be heard next.
OK.  So be it.  Our case was called and we moved to the desks in front of the judge.  Now our seats faced one another.  I made sure Jaymie saw me look her right in the eyes.  Not a threatening gaze, just a glance that said what the angels of the Healing Heart had shared, "Hold your head up.  Be strong.  You did nothing wrong."  After that first eye contact, she never looked at me again.

Then, I sat down next to 'D', crossed my arms on the desk with my wedding ring hand on top pointed toward Jaymie like a laser beam.  That just felt right.
Jaymie was all on her lonesome at her desk, she never sat, looking very timid, very distressed and kind of wretched.  She had a folder presumable chalked full of copies of email I had sent.
Awesome.  Let's read every one out loud.

There was no swearing in.  Nothing formal at all.  Just the judge asking Jaymie simple questions.  Maybe he was purposely dumbing it down for the frightened pixie.  He told her he knew that there had been a Non-Clets agreement signed yesterday but she had chosen to disallow that document to be approved today.  He was bewildered by that decision. He asked, "Why is that, Ms. Sim****?"

Jaymie, in a barely audible tone answered with something that sounded like, "She has a lawyer and I don't."  (Waaaaaaaaa!  Want some cheese with that whine??)
The judge was ever so patient. "Why are you here, Ms. Sim****?"

To me that meant...Let's get the party started, shall we?

"A year ago I had affair with her husband.  She has been harassing me since she found out."

Harassing is such a subjective term, but there are legal standards.  The judge sensed our case was not going to reach the level of LEGAL harassment and right away, he started to steer toward the path of least resistance.  He asked 'D' if he hoped the Non-Clets order could still be implemented.  'D' assured him, "Absolutely, your Honor.  We believe we all want the same thing here."

Back to the whiner, "Ms. Sim****, are you alone here today?"
"No. My Dad and boyfriend came, too."
"Why don't we have your father join you at the plaintiff's table?"
Daddy James maneuvered through the maze of chairs up to the front of the court to sit next to his darling baby whore bag. (Some of you hate when I resort to name calling, but I plead for your understanding here.  This is my FINAL post about Jaymie!  Allow me a little leeway.)

The judge welcomed Daddy James to his courtroom and then the cajoling began.  I'm paraphrasing here...the judge started with:
Ms. Sim****, I have read the Non-Clets order and it appears to be very thorough.  Maybe we could begin by reviewing it and see where you feel it may not be what you are looking for.
Then he asked Daddy James to take a moment and discuss the options available to his daughter with her and perhaps offer advice on how to proceed.

That may not have been exactly what His Honor said, but what he meant was clear enough.
Jaymie has every right to plead her case, but she could walk out of here with no order at all if she pushed her luck.  The bird in the hand, the Non-Clets order, was looking pretty good.  She may want to reconsider.

After a few awkward moments of the hushed conference between Daddy James and Jaymie, the judge asked them if they had any questions.
"May we speak to Mr. 'D' outside for a moment?"
The Judge with the patience of Job, nodded to 'D' and 'D' couldn't get to the door quick enough.
After they left, I moved back to sit with Nikki, wondering aloud, but discreetly, about how poor, poor Richard might be holding up out there.  I can't fully express to you what a mental train wreck he was.  I took some measure of satisfaction in that.

A recess was taken in our case and the Judge heard another while Jaymie met with 'D' and Daddy in the hall.  Later, 'D' would share that Jaymie was easily convinced by Daddy James to move on and let it go.  Ironic that is exactly what so many (stupid) people say to betrayed spouses, right?
'D' only had to assure her that if any of the specifics of the Non-Clets order were violated by me within the three year period, the order would automatically revert to a full Clets restraining order, then he left the two of them to confabulate.

'D' returned to his seat next to me.  All we could do now was wait.  Soon, Daddy James returned alone to his perch next to Geek Boy in the back.  Maybe Jaymie had to potty.  Less than 5 minutes after Daddy James, Jaymie came back, almost rushing through the doors.  Weird.
'D' stepped toward the back to ask if they were ready.  They said yes.  After the current case being heard was completed, he informed the bailiff that we were ready to proceed.

Back to the desks in our previous positions, the judge asks, "Ms. Sim****?  What have you decided?"
"I want to add something to the Non-Clets order and then I'll sign it."
"What is it you want to add?"

Get ready....You are gonna LOVE this!!

"She has to keep her husband away from me, too!"  
I almost laughed out loud right there!
I know I sucked in a quick breath and held it for a while with my lips pinched together.  The idea was just so absurd!  'D' didn't need to ask me if I would approve such an addition to the order.  He felt he could answer for me.
"We would be fine with the addition, Your Honor.  I will write it in now."

The very smart judge knew the not-so-smart plaintiff was moving toward the outcome he had desired from the get-go.  Even though this was a totally non-enforceable requirement in the order, he nodded his approval.  The bailiff handed the agreement to 'D'.  He made the changes.  I initialed them. (while doing my best not to snicker!) The agreement was given back to Jaymie, then the bailiff again, who gave it to the judge, who passed it to the clerk.

It was a done deal.  Up until this point, I hadn't said a word.  No one had even said my name except the bailiff when he called our case.  But, now the judge turned to me.

"Mrs. Fe****, do you fully understand that if you violate this Non-Clets order you will find yourself right back in here?"
I answered him succinctly and loudly enough for all to hear, "Your Honor, I never want to see or hear from Ms. Sim**** ever again.  Thank you for your time."

Alrighty then!!  We're outta there!  Jaymie, Daddy James and Geek Boy Kevin left first.  'D' said he needed to stay and finalize the order with the clerk.  He would meet us in the hall with Richard.

I was jubilant! Back in the hall, Richard was sitting close to the doors.  I guess he saw our smiles because he went from frightened puppy face to the look of a man that had just been pardoned from death row.
I couldn't wait to tell him about the new clause Jaymie added to the order.  I had to keep HIM away from HER!  Hilarious, right?

He dropped his head.  He said he knew why she added that.
When Jaymie and her Daddy were in the hall, Richard had been in the men's room.  Richard had completed his piss just as Daddy James left Jaymie alone in the hall.  Richard saw what he thought was a boy with his head down in a book sitting by the doors of the courtroom.  He walked toward him (her!) to take the seat he had been in pre-pee-pee trip.  He (she!) looked up at him and he smiled.
Then, a second too late...he realized his mistake!  Damn his poor vision!  Damn, Jaymie's boyish new hair cut!  Panic setting in!!  He starts to retreat just as Jaymie leaps to her feet and makes for the safety of the court to announce the addition to the order.
I wish I could've been a fly on the wall for that accidental encounter!
The perfect ending.  Nearly poetic.

The only way this day was gonna get any better was if I took my friend, Nikki, to a fine lunch, with wine and then did a little shopping at Nordstrom.  So, that's exactly what I did.

Bye, Bye, Bitch Whore.  THE END.

The End of Jaymie, Part 2

First an apology, not for my extended time away, but for underestimating my sorely lacking aptitude for brevity in story telling.  
In my last post, when I started writing about my day in court with Jaymie, the END of my time in Crazy Town that was wrongly ruled by my bitterness and contempt for the embodiment of my husband's mid-life crisis solution, I think I predicted two posts only. That's not gonna work out.  This second installment has run a little longer than I anticipated.  
So, sue me and back to court I'll go.

Nikki and I powdered our noses and chattered quietly about Jaymie's lack of hair and about how she has very diverse taste in her sexual partners.  It was sort of confusing.
Geek Boy Kevin was younger than Jaymie by a year and if stereotypes hold true, probably even less mature than his total years on the planet.  Even at the fake age Richard told Jaymie, 54, that put him at 30 years her senior.
Geek Boy writes comic books.  Richard is an attorney.
Geek Boy was just about as tall as his new mate, about 5'10 and couldn't weigh more than 140 pounds soaking wet.  (if Jaymie and Geek Boy breed, they will have some seriously scrawny kiddos.  I see many years of school yard bullying in their futures.)  Richard had been working out hard to impress his baby whore.  He had quite a set of guns and his pecs were solid.  He stands 6' 2" and usually weighed in around 190.  He was looking his best for "a man of his age" as the saying goes.  He sported a bit of a sagging bootie and love handles formed by many years of sitting at his desk in his office/love nest.  Even with those normal age related body shape maladies, he would have nothing to fear from Geek Boy, should the bean pole get feisty with desire to defend Jaymie's honor.
There are many more contrasts and anomalies between Jaymie's two most recent fuck buddies, but I grow bored with this deviation from the end of my story.  Besides, I'm sure you get the idea of the point I was beginning to make.  IMHO, Jaymie latched on to the next guy in line that showed an interest in her.  I consider it scripture to say, women that have affairs with married men have minimal self-esteem at best and resolute self-loathing at worst.

When Nikki and I emerged, all freshened up and ready to rumble, Richard and 'D' were waiting.  They motioned us to the elevator.  When we all entered and the doors closed, 'D' said he had stopped and introduced himself to Jaymie, Daddy James and Geek Boy.  I glanced at Richard, wondering where the hell he took his shivering self while that little conversation had taken place.  Never asked, because I felt fairly certain if he could have been in a completely different time zone than Jaymie and her Back-Up Boys, he would've given his left testicle to do so.

'D' informed me Jaymie had girded her loins and declared her intention to seek the full on CLETS restraining order, disregarding all agreements that had been made previously.
I gotta say...that threw me.  I had beaten down my fighting persona, sucked up my compulsion for retribution and ultimately craved a fresh start far away from Crazy Town.
This is when 'D' showed me he was undoubtedly good at his job of client control.
"Shawn, I know you wanted a chance to speak and tell your side of the story.  I understand why that would be important to you, but if you'll just trust me, I think I can get the NON-CLETS back on track.  If I can't, I'll get a continuance and we will come back prepared to defend against the order."

My brain only registered the words "COME BACK".  No way.  Not a chance. That was not gonna work for me.  It had to be done today.  Now.  At once.  On a normal, average, boring day, I have the patience of a gnat with ADHD.   This sure as hell wasn't a normal day.  There would be no coming back.
"No way, 'D'  We are not coming back.  This ends today.  I do trust you.  You can do what you need to do first.  But if that little cunt (yea..I said cunt in a courthouse and I despise that word.  Sorry.) won't let it go, I want to fight.  I want to make it as awful for her as the law will allow.  Are we agreed?"

After a very brief glimpse at my increasingly uncomfortable husband, 'D' told me we were on the same page, and proceeded to lead us to the assigned courtroom at the end of the lengthy hallway.
As we approached the court of contention, we all spotted Jaymie and the Back-Up Boys (starting to like that nick-name!) ahead, entering court through the double doors.
'D' paused.  "Rich, I want you to stay out here in the hall.  It won't help having you in there.  It would probably make matters worse.  I can defend against what Shawn has done to Jaymie, but not what you did.  Why risk pissing her off even more?"
At first, I protested, but 'D' gently reminded me, I had given him first shot at finishing this and as such, should yield to what he considered important for the best possible outcome.  I took a very deep, cleansing breath and relented.

A chivalrous 'D', pushed open the door and held it for Nikki and myself to pass through.  Instantly we saw my nemesis seated with her guards in the back row, faces forward, away from us.  As soon as 'D' saw where they were seated, he ushered us to the row furthest away in the surprisingly tight space of the rectangle room.
We were not the only restraining order cases to be heard that morning.  Not even close.  We were fourth on the docket and there would be more after my case was finished....and it damn well would be finished today, hopefully before lunch...one way or the other.

The End of Jaymie, Part 1

You know what?  I could waste another entire post telling you all about how I spent the rest of the night after I was pummeled with the news of my impending trip to El Cajon Court, a command performance for the judge that refused to sign off on the Non-Clets agreement.
I could admit how much wine I drank while seeking a means for my survival when having to be in the same zip code, let alone the same damn stuffy courtroom with Jaymie, from the angels of the Healing Heart.
I could wax quite eloquent (that might be a bit of a reach!) about my excessively dutiful husband and how he was struggling to come to grips with the SNAFU that was our Plan A.
I could type a page full of words, forming sentences, some interesting to read, others just placed there to elaborate so I can hear myself talk.  Stretching out the inevitable.  Trying to entertain with my tale of trauma.
Hell...you must know I can squander cyberspace if you've followed me for long!

But, I owe you all better than that.  I deserve better than that.  Let's just cut to chase.  We're within two last posts of the End of Jaymie in my life.  Can I get an AMEN?!

Sleep came at a premium that night, but there was no way I was gonna resort to medication to knock me out.  I wanted to be at my most alert when I walked into court the next morning.  Armed with astute advice from my time spent on the Healing Heart, my attitude was not what I had anticipated.  I can't say I was anxious to get on with it, but I sure was not over whelmed with trepidation. 

In the morning as I rose and enjoyed my tea, the day seemed non-threatening.  I continued to be very pleasantly surprised by my demeanor.  I showered and dressed, carefully selecting the perfect articles of clothing from my embarrassingly over stuffed closet.
You know I made sure I looked GOOD.  Black slacks tucked into tall black, very well polished riding boots.  Black and white silk blouse with a long knit black vest.  Just the right amount of jewelry and make up to be a veritable style icon, while showing the proper respect to the venue.  Pulled my hair back in a Sarah Palin-esque twist.  With my black glasses, I could have passed for her younger, taller sister.   I was going for a stellar combo of hot and business smart and I think I nailed it.
As my dear friend and business partner, Nikki, says...I was smellin' the fart!  LOL!
Crude, but hilarious.  Cracks me up every time as I am a huge fan of potty humor!  In case you don't get it, it means I felt like a world class bad ass.  No one was gonna bring me down.
BTW...Nikki met me at court.  She would never let me face the bitch whore alone.

Richard and I had to take two cars because he had to go to work after our morning meeting with the judge.  I don't think he had any clue what to expect.  I didn't either, but I just knew I'd be fine regardless.
I don't want to belabor the point of how pivotal the guidance from my online friends was for me, but I certainly can't neglect it either.  They gave me courage when I needed it most.  The instruction given to me online the previous night was this:
Hold my head up.  Be Strong.  I did nothing wrong!
Simple and absolutely exactly what I needed to hear.

Many of you and most of Jaymie's clan would disagree with the 'I did nothing wrong' part of the inspirational mantra.  Some might say I did a whole lotta shit wrong.  Maybe so, but in the end, I had tried to do the right thing.  I signed the Non-Clets agreement.  I didn't cling to the dream of public humiliation for Jaymie.  I "Moved On".

If you ever find yourself being summoned into court, I hope you can feel the same.
Unimpeachable and Righteous.  I sure wasn't innocent, but I felt guiltless.
I'm not gonna try to convince you I wasn't apprehensive about how this morning would go down.  As usual, I'm trying to convey precisely what I remember about the experience.  There were a couple of stray butterflies in my gut as I drove south to court, but not enough to cause intestinal distress.
Looking back, it is curious how relatively calm I felt.  Of course, that was on the drive.  I hadn't seen Jaymie's skeletal face yet.

'D' didn't want Richard to come to court.  Can you believe that shit??  I insisted on a united front.  Of course, Richard wanted whatever made me happy.  The plan was to meet 'D' and Nikki in the court cafe.  Richard said they had the best little breakfast bargain ever.  2 eggs, 2 pieces of bacon, toast and coffee for $3.99.  With the aforementioned butterflies taking up residence in my tummy, I would have to pass on the awesome deal.
We found a comfy booth and while Richard squirmed nervously, 'D' began to prep us for what he deemed was routine in these circumstances, the judge just asks each of us to state for the record that we agree with the order and then he signs it.
'D' told us where we should sit in court depended on where Jaymie and her crew planted their butts.  Her support system would probably be Geek Boy and Daddy James. We should sit in front of them so as not to cause undo dismay by staring at the backs of their pin heads.  'D' thought she may have a bigger entourage, but I was confident she didn't want an audience to witness the details of her shameful lack of social graces and possible residual comeuppance.

The clock showed less than 20 minutes to launch.  There had to be a pee stop and fresh lipstick application before we proceeded upstairs.  Nikki and I left the boys, telling them we would meet them at the elevator.  As of yet, there had been no bitch whore sighting.  That was about to change.

Nikki and I walked out of the cafe, stepped around the corner of the hallway to the right and almost strolled directly into Jaymie.  I'm not adding this little moment for dramatic effect, People.  It was a total shocker but I am happy to report that I was beyond cool.  I smiled in her direction ('D' would not have approved!) without making actual eye contact and turned back to Nikki, casually laughing as if she had just shared another comical bit of potty humor with me.  In my peripheral vision, I noted Geek Boy and Daddy James gawking, as if in abject horror, at the sight of me.
I leaned closer to Nikki and whispered, "There she is.  That's her.  Don't look now, but that's Jaymie."
Gotta give Nikki credit.  I would have given myself whiplash spinning my head around like that poor little girl in the Exorcist, to get a peek at the slut that had been the torment of my best friend for a year.  Nope.  Not Nikki.  She didn't even flinch.  She just kept walking but as we turned left into the ladies room, she cast a quick glance backward.

The thing about Jaymie that Nikki noticed immediately was her hair...or lack of it!  Nikki, wide eyed, blurted out, "What the hell is with that awful hair?"
I was astounded by Jaymie's new look, as well.  She had allowed someone to whack off her less than luxurious locks into a pixie!  It was such a bad alteration, I wondered if perhaps she had diced and cleaved it off on her own without the benefit of a reflective surface.  I know that in school she used to cut herself.  Maybe this was another form of self mutilation.  She looked like a scrawny school boy.  I confess, as small and superficial as it seems, this pleased me.

This is as good a place as any to pause.  The next post will be the End of Jaymie.  It will start with the news that Jaymie decided to change her mind.  I guess after getting another look at me, she decided she wanted a legal order with teeth.  No more Non-Clets.  She wanted it all on the record and listed with law enforcement.  Guess there would be a battle after all.
The End of Jaymie was gonna be an event to remember.