Four Affairs Later, I’m Still Asking If I’m Enough (Spoiler: The Problem Isn’t Me)

My husband asked for a divorce the day after Christmas. My favorite fucking holiday.

Can I tell you something that’s pissing me off today?

I get so frustrated when people say part of your healing journey is through writing. When I start to write stuff down, I overthink, want it to be perfect. The healing-through-writing advice is everywhere, isn’t it? “Just journal your feelings!” “Write your truth!” But nobody tells you that when you’re drowning, putting pen to paper can feel like drowning louder.

Wait, I do have a damn voice, so why not start a damn blog?!

I feel like my healing journey is going backwards. A day after Christmas divorce announcement with a 4-year-old in the house? That’s not just heartbreak – that’s emotional warfare. Guess what? I’m still living in the same house. I moved clear across the country into a small ass house, only to be told a few months later that he wants a divorce. WTF?

I’m trying to hold it together for three kids at completely different stages? All while my brain is doing that awful thing where it replays every conversation, every moment, looking for clues I missed. Trying to heal in the same house is like trying to recover from a surgery where the wound keeps opening up.

Let’s not forget about the ugly crying, or the crying so hard and no sound is coming out. The only thing that is popping out is all the veins on your head and neck. You cry so hard that you wake up with eyes so puffy you can barely see their color. I’ve cried so much, I could put out a damn house fire. If I’m being real honest with myself, the crying isn’t over.

The hardest part of still being in the same house is feeling like a stranger to a man I’ve been married to for 19 years. The air feeling so thick you could choke on it. Having that gut feeling that there is another woman, which would be his 4th affair that I know of. Having to put on a brave and happy face for my children. Knowing that one of my boys can hear me crying through the walls. Having to set up a therapy appointment because my son chews on his nails and fingers to the point of pain. Having to figure out what my next move is going to be alone.

Let’s rewind. Yes it would be his 4th affair. I was so numb after the first two, I honestly didn’t know how to handle it. I was juggling toddlers, a career and depression. Here is what I think now, after all this time. The question isn’t can a marriage recover after infidelity, it’s, can you live with the fact it happened?

Four affairs. FOUR. And I’m the one who spent years wondering if I was enough?

That man has shown me who he is four times over, and it has absolutely nothing to do with my worth. Nothing. I could be a supermodel with a PhD and he’d still cheat because that’s who HE is. That’s his brokenness, not mine.

But right now I’m drowning in that thick air, watching my boy hurt himself because he can feel the tension, trying to hold everyone together while I’m falling apart.

I don’t have all the answers yet. Hell, I’m still figuring out how to get through today without falling apart in front of my kids. But I know this: I’m done asking if I’m enough. I’m done wondering what I did wrong. I’m done pretending this is fixable.

The real question isn’t whether our marriage can survive his fourth affair. It’s whether I can survive staying in it.

And for the first time in 19 years, I’m choosing me.

If you’re reading this at 2 AM, crying in your bathroom while your kids sleep, wondering if you’re crazy for staying or leaving – you’re not alone. We’re going to figure this out together, one messy day at a time.

What’s your truth that needs to be said?