Healing • 6 minutes to read
I’m wide awake. I’ve laid here for the last hour with crazy thoughts running through my head: I have been a faithful wife! Why doesn’t he want me the way he wants those other women? If he was so unhappy in our marriage, why didn’t he leave me? I know I don’t look as good as I did when we got married, but neither does he!
I might as well get up. As I go to the kitchen to make coffee, I notice that his cell phone is on the table. I snoop through his phone as I drink my coffee. Who is Sam? Maybe it’s really Samantha. No, the new guy at his work is named Sam. There’s nothing here. He’s probably just better at hiding who he’s talking with.
I should get back into my daily Bible reading. I look to where my Bible is on the shelf, covered with a thin layer of dust. Instead, I scroll on social media, criticizing the stupid things many of my “friends” post. I even criticize myself, comparing myself to all the “Pinterest perfect” moms. No one really looks like that, come on! I check out a few trendy diet plans and exercise programs, thinking, I should really lose some weight.
He’s finally awake. How can he sleep so well after everything he’s done? He’s in the shower. What excuse could I make to go into the bathroom to make sure he’s only showering and not masturbating? I should make sure his coffee is ready, so he doesn’t have to stop for coffee on the way to work. So many young girls work at the coffee stand. I don’t want him to be tempted.
Getting the kids off to school is so frustrating. They know our morning routine—get up, brush teeth, get dressed and ready for school, eat breakfast, grab lunch and snacks, and out the door—so why are they playing instead of getting ready for school? Why do I have to constantly get after them to stay on task every morning?
I put on my “happy face” when dropping the kids at school and small-talk with the other moms. Am I really happy? Nope.
While having coffee with a friend, I continually check the Friend Locator on my phone to make sure my husband is at work. He doesn’t know I have this app on my phone. My friend is talking, but I’m not really listening. My mind is racing: what if he left his phone on his desk, but is not really at work? What if he’s flirting with women in his office? He really needs another job. Maybe he could start his own business and work from home, so I would always know where he is?
I’m exhausted. I should clean the house and finish the laundry, but I’m too tired. I should have stopped at the grocery store on my way home, but I’ll get groceries before I pick up the kids from school. I think I’ll watch Netflix for a while and relax. I eat an entire bag of chips, scroll on social media, and continue to check my husband’s location while watching shows. I eventually fall asleep.
My relaxing morning has put me behind. As I work to clean the house, I’m continually distracted by the messages in my head. Before cleaning the shower, I spent extra time searching for evidence that my husband acted out this morning. I check my husband’s location intermittently while cleaning.
I’ve been so preoccupied that I didn’t make a list for groceries. As I shop, trying to remember what groceries I need, I’m distracted by the other women in the store. I compare myself to them. Are they prettier than me? Are they thinner than me? Is that the type of woman my husband prefers? As I wait in the checkout line, I find myself getting irritated by the images on the magazines. Looking at all the beautiful women, with perfect figures, elegant hairstyles, and flat tummies is overwhelming. As I wait, I pick up a few magazines and glance for a moment, returning them to the shelf backwards, saving other women from feelings of distress and worthlessness.
While driving, I check my husband’s location and he’s not at work. My battery dies before I can identify where he is at. I feel anxious and scramble to find my charger to plug in my phone. I tried to put my “happy face” back on to pick up the kids, but it doesn’t last long. They are noisy and rambunctious. I know they are only being kids, but I can barely control myself. They seem so innocently happy, oblivious to my pain.
I’ve tried to call my husband three times, but it’s going directly to voicemail. My son accidentally dropped a bowl on the floor creating a glassy mess. I lost it. I yelled at him to get out of the kitchen and go to his room. The other kids were making noise, so I yelled at them and sent them to their room too. I was so angry, but caught a glimpse of my son’s face as he left the kitchen. He was sad and scared.
While making dinner, I tried to call my husband a couple more times; at the same time, convincing myself that he is having an affair and that our marriage is over. When he finally called back, he sounded a bit panicked: “Is everything okay? You called so many times. Are you okay? Are the kids okay?” Trying not to sound so angry, I asked where he had been and why he didn’t answer his phone. He reminded me that he had a doctor appointment, which had been on the calendar since he made the appointment two months ago. Again, he asked why I called so many times. I paused and then quickly answered, “Oh, I wanted you to pick up something at the store for me, but I don’t need it now. I’m making your favorite meal for dinner. See you at 5:30!”
Dinner is quiet. I burned dinner—I was scrolling social media and tracking my husband’s location to make sure he didn’t stop anywhere on the way home. My husband is only being nice to me because he’s probably hiding something and my kids hate me.
I can hear my husband and kids playing while I clean up dinner. They all sound so happy! Why do they seem to be happier when I’m not around? If the kids knew the truth about their father, who he really is, they would hate him too. They would be angry and not trust him.
Putting the kids to bed is bittersweet: I’ll finally have some time to myself, but it leaves my husband and I alone without distraction. I feel guilty about yelling at the kids, but don’t take the opportunity to apologize. Why should I apologize? I only act this way because of what their dad did; none of this is my fault.
I’m so tired. I’m only pretending to watch this movie so that I can monitor what my husband is doing online. Maybe I should initiate sex. I’m so angry and hurt by him, but I don’t want him to end up looking at porn. If he comes to bed with me, I know he won’t act out tonight.
I can’t believe he can sleep. Sex felt so empty. I faked orgasm, but said that it was the best ever. I’m so frustrated—he still doesn’t care how I feel and completely takes me for granted. I feel so lonely. Why would God allow this to happen in my marriage? I used to be such a good wife and mother. I don’t know how long I can live like this, pretending that everything is okay.