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Fear, Distance, and Suspicion

There are hurts that come from injury, and then there are hurts that come from the quiet in between words. After the fall, something shifted — not just in my body, but between us. He was there. Physically present. Moving through days beside me. But emotionally… he felt further and further away, like someone slowly fading into fog. At first, I told myself it was stress. Life. Timing. Anything but distance. I tried to stay calm. Logical. Reasonable. But pain has a way of making everything louder. Every silence. Every missed check-in. Every moment where I needed warmth and got coolness instead. I started reaching for reassurance, not because I wanted control — but because I wanted us . I needed to feel secure. Held. Chosen. Loved without conditions or limits or scoreboard. Instead, I felt like I was knocking on a door I used to have a key to. And when the answers didn’t come… my mind went searching for them. Not because I wanted to catch him doing anything. Go...
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I Am Not Okay With It

I am not okay with it.

I don't accept it. I'm not even sure I tolerate it. I am becoming used to it — but I am not okay with it.

It? More like them. Talking about other women. Sending me reels of women with big boobs. Watching porn so he can stay hard with me — but not sharing the screen. Talking and flirting with other women. Meeting them in secret for dinner, for lunch... maybe more. I have no proof of that last part. But I notice.

So why do I stay? Why do I "tolerate" it?

Aside from leaving him, what choice do I have? And leaving isn't something I'm willing to do — not yet, maybe not ever. He is the love of my life, even while he's playing with fire. I don't accept his behavior, but I accept that this mess is part of him right now. I believe he's committed to me. I also believe he has problems he's refusing to face, and that his behavior is outside my control.

So I'm drawing on something: the patience, love, and compassion my ex-husband didn't have for me when I was struggling with myself. I want to give my husband what wasn't given to me.

Why? The Golden Rule. Empathy. Compassion.

But also — because I've been there.

About sixteen years ago, I had my own midlife crisis. I had an online affair. I could point to a hundred reasons why — I was lonely, my life was a mess, my health was a mess, I didn't know how to make myself happy so I found ways to fill the emptiness. And some of those reasons are real. But the truth is, I was a mess, and I made choices I shouldn't have made.

My husband permitted some of it. That didn't make it right.

Hindsight is 20/20. So is compassion, when you've finally done enough work to see clearly.




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