The Day Your Cheater Lost Centrality
The Friday Challenge is: the day your cheater lost their centrality. Or what we call “meh” around here. When did they stop having the power to hurt you?
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The last two weeks preparing for the podcast “Tell Me How You’re Mighty“, Sarah and I have been sorting through Pain Olympics submissions, of who had the greatest FW. (The competition is stiff. In the end we couldn’t declare a winner. They all suck.)
We need a palate cleanser. Some good news. Some, well, mightiness.
So tell CN about when the spell started to break.
When did you first realize that you were dealing with a FW?
What was the precipitating event? Did it come on you suddenly or gradually? How did your cheater lose their centrality?
I realize if you’re still coparenting, the best you can hope for is gray rock and iron-clad boundaries. These people can still take your children hostage emotionally. True meh isn’t possible.
But at some point they lose their power to hurt you. The insults don’t land. The bids for attention fall flat. You realize the prize you were pick-me dancing for was a turd. And you take your leave from the turd.
So, CN, tell me what meh feels like.
And we always, always welcome your voice messages here.
TGIF!
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The day that would have been my 40th wedding anniversary. That would have been about 3 and a half years post divorce. It came and went, and about a week later I realized not only had I forgotten the anniversary, any thoughts about him hadn’t popped up in quite awhile. That felt good!
One thing I never forget? The anniversary of my divorce being finalized. Fixin’ to celebrate that in just a few days. Booyah!
That seems to be a theme. I recall the first time our anniversary passed and I forgot it was our anniversary. Just a “Huh…” and moved on. I’m pretty sure there were a couple years I actually forgot which day it was.
From what I’m told though, he lived around that date. With his new girlfriend/wife he repeated all the same dates we went on, on the same date as our anniversary each month. (Think like…say our anniversary was on the 15th. He’d be going on a date we went on on the 15th of whatever month it was.) I’m told he did this for like…4 years. Even choosing to get re-married on the same date (different month, same date.)
Anyway, he’s divorced again.
For the 41st anniversary in July it took me about six hours to remember what day it was. No emotion, not good ones or bad ones.
I added to my drinking schedule after 2022. I used to have a glass of Asti Spumante (tastes like soda -yum!) on New Year’s Eve and one on New Year’s Day and then throw away the rest of the bottle. That was it for the year until divorce was final on Jan 2. So now I raise the last of the bottle to myself on that day. End of the bottle and start of another FW free year (yum!).
So interesting that you brought that up… He has been dead for years, but our 40th anniversary will be very soon. I have widow friends who post a big to-do with every milestone and I wont be doing that.
Yes! I totally forgot about our 40th wedding anniversary, or what would have been. He contacted me, like he was moved by it or something. I ignored, no comments, no response. The day was irrelevant to me. I hear you. I don’t think I have noticed the day in subsequent years. No meaning. Yes to booyah!
There were so many moments….I do recall that once I began to see just who these betrayal objects were, what they looked like, how they lived, mug shots, STIs/STDs, etc, I was so grossed out. I met some, others were known to people I knew, some I just saw online, but ugh. Once I saw who they were and what they were about, it reinforced my decision to never have any physical contact with him of any kind. I could see what a loser he was, what an amazing treasure I am, and he became irrelevant. Having the total support of virtually everyone we ever knew or socialized with was an extra help. Friends, neighbors, my running community, religious community, all were supportive of me. They were disgusted and wanted nothing to do with him. All that helped render him laughable, meaningless, useless.
During separation #2, it was a gradual realization that it was over. He ran off to the beach, and I was at home with two upset college kids, a large house, and ultimately, multiple jobs. He was retired, no work. All of the imbalances began to weigh on me, particularly because he and his religious family made me 95% responsible for the mess. My husband seriously said, “This is yours to fix.”
I truly hit meh when I saw that the judge had signed off. I had been no contact during the divorce process. Yes, I needed that. Nothing he did or sent in an email fazed me after that. No more sleepless nights or anxiety over him.
Yes, he dragged out closeout, particularly after his attorney died. He went pro se and was horrid. Eventually, I heard from him less and less until blessed silence. From what I know, he settled into a long-term relationship, and that was that.
It was the day that our youngest daughter (then 18) left secondary education. That was the point at which Ex-Mrs LFTT ceased to be able to use her any rights that she had as a non-custodial parent to make life difficult for me by causing trouble at our daughter’s School.
To say that our youngest daughter’s last day at School was a liberation is an understatement.
LFTT
I hate how many FWs weaponize the fact that coparenting is a necessity. But you got your kids through highschool anyways, which is such an achievement from the sounds of it! Hopefully, the trouble Ex-Mrs caused didn’t affect your daughter’s school experience too much.
C-D-C,
It’s as a result of our youngest daughter’s experiences at School and the chaos that her mother caused that led her to refuse her mother permission to visit her while she was at University.
Sadly, our youngest daughter knows her mother’s tendency to ruin things for others.
LFTT
That’s really tragic, but I understand the necessity. I just hope you and your family finally have peace now. It doesn’t come easy, but it comes eventually.
C-D-C,
Thanks you.
LFTT
The first time I realized maybe it wasn’t me was when Lizard started a fight on my birthday. He was one of those FWs who tried to ruin every special event, and while the closest family member to me had made sure that I had the perfect birthday. Lizard had been pouting the entire time, and we had a large fight that night that left me hyperventilating in the fetal position in the hallway. He then told me he now saw I was actually struggling and he would take me seriously. When I pointed out I had spent most of our relationship telling him I was struggling and communicated that, he gave me some excuse about not really taking me seiously.
He wasn’t listening to me. He wouldn’t listen to me, not really, unless I was having a mental breakdown in front of him.
For the first time, I went, “The issue isn’t me. It’s him. And nothing will change,” and while I immediately felt guilty for even thinking that and pushed that feeling down, that was my first realization that maybe this wasn’t worth pick-me dancing for.
He also told me I needed to stop crying “because the neighbors might hear you and call the cops, and then you could throw up from crying so hard, and then they’ll think I punched you in the stomach and arrest me” which is… a really weird thing to say.
My journey to meh was a weird one, because I ended up working through morurning the relationship while still in it, due to my stubborn desire to make things work. I stayed until I basically couldn’t care anymore, until I had burnt myself out. But that was my first step in the journey.
In the year after I left him I gradually stopped caring. I had been working diligently on my peace of mind, otherwise I think it would have taken longer. There was certainly some immediate relief after he was gone, but I still had to train myself to stop looking to get justice, closure or whatever. I learned to just leave it alone and when you leave it alone it stops mattering.
It’s been a slow and determined march towards meh for me. I have not seen Cheaty for a year and a few months ago he decided that my occasional emails to him (informational/requests/questions) were unacceptable and worth my lawyer telling me that me might apply for and be granted a restraining order against me. Of course his demand didn’t prevent him from contacting me because he is the king of double standards as well as deception. Anyway, I saw him recently. He marched right up to hand me some paperwork. I felt nothing but calm and reassured that I am well on my way to my best life.
I’m not sure how restraining orders work. If he gets a restraining order and then he gets into your space, does that mean he is violating the order? Or maybe is it something he can use to bully you, e.g. your favorite singer is giving a concert that you have tickets for, and then he informs you that you can’t go to the show because he will be there? It might be a blessing for you or it might be another piece of crap to deal with.
I’m so sorry he threatened you with a restraining order! These FWs never miss an opportunity to pretend they are the victims!
Sadly for me, it would be when he died 27 years after we divorced. His main hobby was legal abuse, and I was far from his only target. He filed vexatious litigation for years. He’s been gone for 6 years and it has been peace and quiet since then.
I’m so sorry to hear that. Legal abuse is far too common. I think it’s important to have open legal routes to making things right, but it’s clear that it can be used as a tool of terror. I’m glad you finally have that peace, and I’m sorry it had to come with loss. You’re so strong for withstanding his bullsh!t for 27 years!
(Also, it looks like everyone has taken to self-censoring more agitated words as of late, so I’ll do the same. I assume it’s to make sure the blog or the comments don’t get flagged?)
I am not quite at Tuesday. As a matter of fact I am about to have my third anniversary from D-Day. Below I will share what I feel the important milestones have been.
A few days after she moved out, I decided to move the desk and shelves that she left behind to better accommodate “just me.” Partially disassembling the desk so I could move it by myself (corner desk), I was on the floor in what was until a few days ago at that point her personal space in the apartment. I realized before long that with all of the stains in the carpet, all of the food ground in…that she had never cleaned her personal area. For all of her grandstanding during D-Day about how awful I was and wasn’t…I was literally rolling around in this woman’s filth cleaning up yet another one of her messes. I had to laugh. I think it was the first time since D-Day that I had laughed. It showed me “THIS is the person you want to come back.” And that she was probably full of it on a lot of other things.
I’ve already beaten the “failed attempt at couples counseling after the fact” horse pretty good. That was when I realized that there was no possibility of friendship if she wanted to relitigate “the breakup” in her favor and not discuss terms on how to co-exist like we had planned. It’s also the day No Contact started. It’s the day that “trust and respect” formally entered the equation for me. I’d say that is when the healing process really began.
About 6 months from D-Day I got my first (and last) nasty email from her. Which I read and promptly filed away without responding. I knew the trap. I was not falling into it. It was all her being lazy and really had nothing to do with me.
A year to the day from that email I went on my first date since she left (which was complete happenstance-the individual had cancelled something and rescheduled to that date. I had to chuckle.) I felt like I was attractive and wanted again and had empirical proof that my worth was not keyed to being betrayed. I later cut that person off for lack of effort and disrespect. I did not Pick-Me Dance when it was evident that I had to compete for their attention. So “proved the existence of my returned dignity and self respect.”
Finally, about a year ago, I was wandering a mall in Tokyo looking for a late dinner and looking forward to Akihabara the next day when I realized that I had not thought of the idiot in a couple of days. I started crying. I felt the last of the things that had been locked up and sealed off on D-Day fall away. It was the first time, I think, I felt actually kind of happy like I was when things were good with my traitor…but I didn’t need her for that feeling. I needed ME!
Have a Traitor Free Friday!
I call mine Judas…. but there was no peices of silver…. that he betrayed me for. I m glad you are healing by seeing your traitor without the rose coloured glasses so early. Getting you life back on track 🙂
The day FW and OW lost their centrality, I was in New Zealand on a farm in the middle of nowhere. A friend texted me that they both finally got fired from their high-profile jobs. I always wondered how a board member at a US-listed company could have an affair with a subordinate, promote her to Strategic Director, and then marry her just to save face—all with zero consequences. How on earth was that even possible? Well, when I got the news they were both kicked to the curb, I danced on that farm until midnight. The karma bus finally arrived. It felt as though a dark cloud had lifted, and justice had finally prevailed.
The situation was like terrible physical pain or a jackhammer 24/7/365 outside my house. It dominated my attention and hijacked my brain without my permission. It subsides gradually over a long period of time. I would notice that I had not been thinking about it. I noticed I was able to pay attention to other things. I would notice I was not disturbed by things that had previously disturbed me. Etc.
For me, it’s like trying to watch grass grow. If I sit there and stare at it, I can’t see it growing. I will only notice at some point that it has grown.
The wounds of infidelity don’t have the visual impact of black eyes, bruises, stab wounds, or broken bones. Unlike those types of physical injuries, there is no clear treatment plan and the healing timeline is open-ended.
I often felt like I was barely clinging to a little tiny makeshift raft in the middle of the darkest most incredibly stormy sea, towering waves all around, about to drown at any minute.
It’s been 8.5 years since DDay and I hardly ever feel that way anymore, which is a huge relief.
After I found out about his cheating from checking his phone, he made a big deal about what a terrible person I was for “invading [his] privacy” and how he would never, ever in a million years invade my privacy like that.
During the divorce, he handed me a stack of legal paperwork, but he made a mistake. He accidentally included a print-out of a photograph. It was a photograph of a post I’d made on my private FB wall talking about the divorce to friends. Not a screenshot; a photograph of my monitor. Meaning he’d gotten onto my desktop in my apartment and used my computer to sift through my Facebook wall for things he could use in the divorce. Which was clearly worse than me taking a quick peek at his text messages.
I confronted him with the photograph. “What was that you said about never, EVER invading my privacy like I invaded yours?”
“I didn’t take that picture,” he said without missing a beat. “Someone else took that picture and sent it to me.”
“FW, this is NOT a screenshot. It’s a photo of my monitor taken by someone who was in my apartment using my desktop. You’re saying someone broke into my apartment to spy for you??”
He shrugged and said, “I’m just saying, someone else sent me that, I didn’t take it myself.” Of course he refused to divulge the identity of this mystery benefactor.
I spent the next several months in near hysteria that he had people breaking into my apartment on his behalf. Later, in one of our arguments, I pointed out that one of us had people breaking into the other’s apartment, so we are clearly not the same. He asked what the heck I was talking about, and I reminded him about the picture.
“Oh. I took that picture. No one else was in your apartment.”
I think that was when I finally realized that this man tells the dumbest f***ing lies and there is literally no reason to believe anything he says about anything, ever. He lies even when the lie is clearly worse than the truth. He lies even when it would make perfect sense to come clean. He had, in fact, lied like this many times before, and I had believed him thinking, “Well, it’s weird, but it must be true because who would tell such a dumb f***ing lie?”
The answer is, he would.
That bit you wrote about the lying is exactly how I would describe many WTF moments with my exH as we were divorcing and even way after. Pathological lying seems utterly exhausting and unnecessary to me, but apparently the default operating system of FW narcopath.
This is insane. You are incredibly brave to come out the other side of this thriving.
For me it wasn’t strictly lies about factual things as much as contradictory justifications that he would say with his whole chest, just not on the same day depending on what he thought served him in whatever conversation. E.g. he wanted a third child, but wasn’t attracted to me after 2 pregnancies. Or he thought I was going to divorce him anyway and I wouldn’t care, but he went to great lengths to hide it, including lying to my face for months after I figured out what was going on.
There’s no winning with that. I’m tapping out, goodbye.
Yes, the layers of lies were among the reasons that I gave myself for refusing to reconcile. When I finally emailed him that, I wisely didn’t elaborate, though. I held the “no reconcilation ever” for months without allowing discussion.
Then he wanted a divorce and even promised that it would be “quick and easy.” I actually laughed on the phone when he told me that. He was offended. He also told me about the attorney he had picked. Oh, boy, the high-priced local pitbull with shady ethics. The one I had 100% ruled out in my research. Then my STBX emailed me the next day, promising again. Nah. I didn’t believe him.
When I lawyered up not long after that, I picked someone an acquaintance called “grandpa with an iron rod.” A bit of a drive for an office appointment, but it was worth it. It was an ugly fight, but mine kept the upper hand. I was pleased with the terms when we settled and signed. My ex was not, but thankfully didn’t appeal what the “crooked attorneys” had worked out in the end.
Liars lie.
Monstrous. Yeesh.
I think the biggest centrality loss was on 12/6/2014. It was the day when I was 7 months pregnant and had a D-day. I didn’t even cry. I gathered all the evidence and sat there asking myself how long I had to put up with this. I told myself at the time that I married for life and this was something I had to address with him, but I was clear in my heart that I didn’t love him anymore. You just can’t love someone who cheats on you when you are pregnant. I wasn’t ready to divorce him and believed I needed to remain married for our child. I felt stuck with klootzak. But klootzak and his happiness were no longer the center of my world.
He was gone a lot so I used every opportunity to do fun things with my son and ignore klootzak’s existence. Looking back, my mind shifted. You know how some people claim their spouse thinks they are just a paycheck? That’s where my mind went. After I started working again, I needed him less and less. The D-day that made me consult an attorney didn’t come for years after that after I had read LACGAL and started doing things that lined up my ducks. But the centrality and love were long gone.
For me it happened slowly, there was no real aha moment. A long time ago I read here that the opposite to love is not hate but indifference. Ohhh I ached for the indifference, I faked indifference or so I thought until quite recently when one of my adult children let me know that FW and the varient were getting married (oh the irony 🤣🤣🤣) I felt nothing. That moment was incredibly liberating so maybe that was my aha moment.
Much love to CN especially the newbies…. It really does get better ❤️
It was a slow process but one major push along to road to meh was something relatively minor. EH had stolen a basketball net from my driveway for our son to use at his house. I didn’t want it and would have gladly let XH have it had he asked. But I came home one day and noticed it was gone. Later I was outside XH’s house waiting to pickup my kids and noticed the b-ball net was in shambles, clearly not used or cared for since its relocation. I didn’t care. XH came ahead of the kids to say something stupid-don’t remember even what it was-just unnecessarily uncooperative. He walked away and shrugged his shoulder and I don’t know what it was about that shrug but it cracked me wide open. Made me realize how petty he was and that I was not dealing with an honest broker who wanted to be a good co-parent as he told everyone. IDK why it took me so long to realize he was a lying liar who lies about everything, perhaps because he made such a big deal about how honest he was. I didn’t want to accept that he sucked, but he did and it was the beginning of acceptance.
“IDK why it took me so long to realize he was a lying liar who lies about everything, perhaps because he made such a big deal about how honest he was.”
I think you did answer your own question. My ex went out of his way to condemn people for dishonesty and lack of integrity. He went out of his way to accuse other people of what he’d done himself, including telling people he’d literally just met that our son stole $60,000. It was duper’s delight and bragging: in the divorce process, I saw ex had transferred the money to a personal account. And he constantly asked people from our hometown if they knew what a huge liar a former classmate was. In retrospect, I think he was talking about himself, and getting another thrill from getting away with lying, while pretending to be appalled.
Yesterday I saw that he is continuing to claim he won an international award during a specific year. I went to the official website with the list of winners and finalists, and no surprise, he didn’t win anything. I thought about forwarding it to friends, then decided he wasn’t worth the effort.
A few months ago he emailed one of our friends an incredibly distorted story about the beginning of our relationship, painting himself as the white knight who saved me–but he wasn’t the white knight he portrayed, and I was the opposite of what he claimed. The person with a career, apartment, degree and a hefty bank balance wasn’t him, it was me. He didn’t have any of those things. I thought about leaving it unchallenged, but ultimately decided I wanted to clarify and refute to “record” he was trying to create. More than five years apart, and he still tries to put me down. Now I can see it’s nothing new; he always tried to make me seem smaller so he could be the big shot. Funny that apparently he’s stuck, while I have moved on.
On a related note, it seems to me that a lot of men (not all!) try to make their wives or girlfriends seem smaller. Obviously a big flapping red flag.
1) Your FW stole the 60 kilodollars and then publicly blamed your son for that? Is that what I’m reading?!? I’d like to kick his arse for you and your son.
2) “an incredibly distorted story about the beginning of our relationship, painting himself as the white knight who saved me” After D-Day I was very surprised to learn that apparently, and without my knowledge, FW “picked me up out of the gutter” when we started dating, and that if he hadn’t come along I would still be there. !!! Yes, I was the poorest person I knew, but he was the second poorest. I had a full time job, in night school part time, and depended on NOBODY to save me from the gutter or anywhere else. This reminds me of the comment I posted a couple of days ago about how FW suffered from white knight syndrome with Mrs. Bendover. Is there a paraphilia about that? Maybe all of these pitiful APs are all about being saved.
1) Yes. We used to go to the bank regularly, and every time there was a new teller, he’d rock back on his heels, fold his arms across his chest, and say with a smirk, “We have to be really careful because our son stole $60,000 from my wife’s bank account.” He’d also say this to random people we met at parties. I told him several times that it seemed like he was bragging, and it was bizarre to keep telling people this. During separation, I asked a bank rep to teach me hod to do electronic banking and asked to practice with that account, because barely any money was left in it. Even less than I thought, because he had subsequently taken even more money. He even wrote a little memo for every withdrawal, stating that he transferred it to his personal account. Which, of course, he emptied before I could reach it.
2) Same story! He made it sound like I was sleeping in a bar, when I had sublet a huge apartment, well over 1200 square feet, from a friend who had left New York. Yes, there was a bar downstairs. So what? There was one in the “Friends” apartment building too. They were like many mixed use residential/business combined use buildings. He implied it was a moral and financial failing. I had a brand new car I’d bought with cash, no debt, and I had enough in savings to make the full down payment on a house we bought a year later. He had—a lot of student loans.
I think there is something to Tracy’s idea that we would never think to act like that so we project basic decency onto other people too. It takes a while to realize someone you care about is going through life with a totally different, and warped-set of filters. I think if I had had a resource like CN and realized it was a common thing, I would have been able to recognize what I was dealing with a lot sooner. It is hard to understand how these FWs operate but sure does seem to be a common book of plays.
I agree. I didn’t find CN until post-divorce, but even then, what a resource!
I reached meh very gradually – no “aha” moment really. But what I was doing before then was resisting the meh because I felt as if I were writing off 37 years of my life as if they never happened, and were unimportant. Those 35 years of marriage may have only had intermittent times of love, connection, and joy, but they were my years. That was my life. And now I had to look back and say “meh”? The last 10 years of my marriage had the same flavor: it was a bad marriage but it was the only one I had and I would never get another, so I resisted the divorce I had wanted 10 years before D-Day. And so I resisted the meh after the break-up. Another factor in delaying meh was that the abuse continued past the divorce decree. At that time I still worked for him and so could not go NC. Even after he fired me I felt compelled to read the emails he sent, because he still had me cowed with threats of lawsuits. (Plus he still owed me money.) Insults, threats, blame shifting, criticisms, demands, blah blah blah. I believe if it hadn’t been for his mini-stroke that bs would be continuing to this day. Nobody can heal from their injuries as the assault continues, so I’m very grateful for his mini-stroke, after which the abuse stopped cold. I’m at meh and it’s okay. It’s still my life, and it’s soooo much better than it was.
My divorce was finalized eight years ago. From time to time I still get mail for my ex at my house – medical product recalls, IRS audit notices, delinquent account notices. I just shake my head and return to sender, I used to wish a second helping of karma on him, for him to at least acknowledge that he fumbled a really good woman, but now I just shake my head at myself for ever entertaining that charity case.
Cheater and I were in a “wreckonciliation” phase. But he was a total mess with money. I found out he had not paid the mortgage for a year. The house was in foreclosure. It was also in need of major repairs. Every time we used the sink in the kitchen to wash dishes, gross water with food particles backed up into the bathtub in the bathroom. And other similar problems. He said we had no money to fix that. (I later discovered he was almost certainly involved in gambling addiction during this time.) We came home from church one evening, and he looked at our run-down house with an overgrown yard that he refused to mow and started talking about how he wanted to put in a swimming pool. And he wanted to put an addition on the house. I started crying and said, “How can you talk like that? We are in foreclosure! The house needs repairs! Our relationship is on the edge! What are you talking about?” He said, “I guess I just have more faith in God than you do.” That was the moment that I realized life with him was just going to be endless chaos and drama, infidelity and bankruptcy. I said, “I want a divorce.” That was the first time I said it and really meant it. Suddenly, I wanted to live somewhere far away where he couldn’t destroy all my happiness. Thankfully, today I have a nice farmhouse on the coast of Maine and my life is so peaceful and full of joy.
Typical delulu FW behavior.
It was very gradual. My thoughts still cycle through some of the memories, but only to sift and label them appropriately. At the time, I couldn’t process it all, and I didn’t want to accept the reality that he enjoyed hurting me. I felt a real change when I started studying to become a nurse. Finally, I’m “focusing on myself,” and it feels good.
Oh dear F&H… focusing on yourself… to look after others. Bless your ♥️
I wouldn’t have even known to look for the Meh road if not for LACGAL.
The moment my life path veered sharply towards the the Meh fork in the road, was when I realized during my individual therapy session, that FW narcopath was considering a fatal accident for me sometime during the decade long secret double life. No amount of RIC hopium can erase that nugget!
It was a slow realisation that I was dealing with a FW. Actually it wasn’t until I found this blog when I Google searched “my husband is having an affair and won’t move out”. I had never seen a blog before. That night (or more likely the wee sleepless hours of the morning) was when I learned what a FW was, and what mindf*ckery was. OK so that changes my story to it was a sudden realisation that it was a FW I was dealing with. Prior to that, between D Day and Discovering CL Day, was the gradual part of relentless confusion and nausea, pain and darkness.
Less than a year and a half since D Day, so not at Meh yet, but I did have an Aha! moment when I was realised I couldn’t just live in his absence, with the void of him and his things. That I needed to inject beauty into my life and into my home. And with that, I went to my local op shop and bought the beautiful floral furniture I’d seen in there the week prior. The kids have our old suite facing the TV. Mine is round the fireplace. Snug and pretty and my comfort.
I’m very sad to say that I’m not at meh yet. I kicked exFW out almost 5 years ago. Divorce was final 3 years ago. It’s impossible to get to meh when you’re dragged back into court, which he just did to me. But after consulting two lawyers who said I’d lose, I gave up fighting. I’m done. He won. I’m financially screwed and trying to pick up the pieces. He makes six figures while I am making minimum wage after being a SAHM while raising our kids. It is categorically unfair and I am a person who believes strongly in what is right. I’m trying to move on. I’m trying. But it’s really hard to see a good future after thirty years out of the work force. If I could get a good paying job I’d be able to get to meh pretty quickly. I see who he is, finally. He’s a monster. But I’m not a meh. I’m too hurt.
I was also a SAHM for longer than I wanted to be. It wasn’t until after the marriage ended that I realized FW thwarted every attempt I made to get back into the workforce. We moved when I was excelling at college courses. He said I’d be able to continue in the new location, but that wasn’t the case.
In 2018, he said if I didn’t make $60,000 a year, it wasn’t “worth the inconvenience” of me going back to work. At the time, I was a freelance graphic designer. When I learned of the affair, it was my lunch break. I was working in-house for my biggest repeat clients. That’s when he chose to send an email telling me about the affair.
FW didn’t want me to have a job or a career because it would have given me some independence, broken the isolation, and raised my self-esteem. My job was to be in the kitchen and at home taking care of him. Now that I’m divorced, I’ve gone back to college nd nothing is going to stop me now.
I don’t blame you for not being at meh. That’s so cruel, Molly. My only recommendation is to focus on daily self-care and responsibilities and not as much on the bigger picture, as hard as it is. Taking life in bite sized pieces can help.
Big hugs if you’d like them. You didn’t deserve such hurt.
Thank you so much. And yes, that is exactly what I’m doing day to day. I’m trying not to allow myself to worry about more than one thing at a time and doing little things to help make me happy and healthy.
What a despicable, horrible man. I’m so sorry Molly. He impoverished you and then uses that against you. I’m shocked your lawyers said you would lose. Full custody? Partial custody? 50/50? He should be paying a sh*t-ton of alimony and be forced to finance your new life. This is some family court BS in my opinion. Big ((hugs)) from me too.
Thank you so much. He took me back to court to reduce alimony. It went from something that actually helped me survive to a joke.
I just did the math…he cut my alimony by 93%. And a judge signed off on it!!!
MollyWobbles – I don’t have any advice for you but I just want to give you {{{hugs}}} Hang in there.
Thank you
The day my gratitude exceeded my extreme fear of his reprisal post locking out and a protection order and filing. By 3 years post divorce finalization in January of 2026- I one day said to myself in a prayer, that if he did try to take my life, I had had 3 beautiful peaceful years without his creepiness and mental instability. That no matter what else happened to me from then on, the peace, distance, daily joy and being solo– was incredibly worth the terror, cost and upheaval of leaving him. I was just so thrilled to be at meh and to live in safety. 30 year marriage over, could not be more grateful. Thats Meh in my world.
This is just a tiny, little moment. Still in the throes of getting a divorce because he is not providing financial info and documents. He texted me yesterday, “Do the kids see my emails?” Our “kids” are adults and have blocked him on everything. I texted back, “I don’t know.”
I realized later that that probably stung him hard. He wants to be the center of our attention. He wants to think we are thinking about him. He’s all about how hurt HE is, as if any of that is our fault.
My “I don’t know” said, well, that I don’t know and also that I don’t care, and no, I won’t be discussing him with my kids, and they don’t want to think about him either. We will not be his narcissistic supply.
I’m not at meh because I still have to coparent with this exemplary individual, who continues to find ways to insert herself in my life despite the fact that my child and I now live 14 hours away. (Her latest gambits: using her court approved visits to befriend the other parents at my son’s school, renting AirBnb’s close to where I live and work, and moving into the apartment she got me kicked out of.) There is no meh for me now. No justice no meh.
But I do remember the moment I stopped believing that she was relationship material.
She had always told me that I was “too angry” and “yell too much” and “never bring things up the right way.” So I was super careful not to sound angry when I confronted her about the affair. I was speaking barely above a whisper.
She started crying and said, “You’re SCARING me I’m so SCARED your voice is SO SCARYYYYY!”
That was the moment I knew that I had just wasted 7 years of my life with a complete sociopath. She never had a problem with my tone, she just didn’t want me to talk.
The day my cheater eX finally lost centrality in my life was my D-day, the day I left him.
I finally stopped making him the center of my life.
However I am far from “meh”.
Sometimes the road to meh isn’t linear.
In my case, I spent a few years off that road. I had to learn to trust that he sucks, to accept that he’s no prize, to toss his AP, whom he married, into the same shitty-character bin that he’s in, and, most of all, to understand that he, of all people, doesn’t get to be the arbiter of my worth.
In Michael Rosen’s children’s book: We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, he makes the point that sometimes we have to go through hard things. There are not short cuts. “Can’t go over it. Can’t go under it. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it!”
I went through it. Found meh on the other side (more or less).
My best to all the other chumps out there. And to the newbies, please know that it does get better.
Yes. It takes time. When I veer from meh, it’s because I’m over-tired. I remind myself to get some quality rest and take care of myself.
I no longer miss him, but sometimes still miss his income, which is utterly ridiculous because he was paying Smoopie’s rent and had been hiding money for decades. I am so much more financially secure as a divorcee than I ever was as his wife. Plus, unlike him, I’m good with money.
Recently, I’ve been dealing with yet more collateral damage, but my adult son and I were able to talk about FW in a way I felt proud of.
An inspirational chump, Gladys McGarey, was blindsided at age 70 by her husband with whom she founded the American Holistic Medicine Association. She said it took her 20 years to recover before living to 103 years old.
I suspect that senior chumps (and especially chumps without children or grandchildren) may need both divorce and the death of a FW to finally feel unburdened.
That doesn’t mean they can’t replace an abusive marriage with a full and productive life. It just means they’re unlikely to do it with a partner. And that’s mighty.
Well, if you have adult children that love the cheater…and wifetress- like I’ve experienced ..it does dig deep into the pores of the heart..in a journey that causes ongoing pain.
But.childless and grandchildless Seniors can replace a cheating partner with a faithful pet of any kind…the patient animal needs care day and night, while children and grandchildren can easily forget your house or apartment number. Let’s go for hope of older friends, facebook pets, social activities. Nope, you do not need a cheater to wheel around and stuff pill boxes for. I vote No to that!
Double thumbs up to this one
I have sincerely admired the redditor xternocleidomastoide for a long time.
He is a truly wise and experienced person, balanced and not rushing to extremes in his judgments. His advice is always very helpful, but unfortunately, many people wounded by infidelity on Reddit do not want to use such objective advice when they rush headlong into “reconciliation.”
Here is one of his recent comments.
“Divorce and reconciliation are both equally valid personal choices, and only the person directly affected can decide which path is right for them.
Ultimately, it comes down to what takes priority: preserving the marriage with the person who hurt you, or healing from the harm they caused.
But you can only choose one.
Not recognizing that is usually a major source of dissonance and frustration.?
I don’t think I’m there yet because I wake up every day and thank my lucky stars that he’s not there!
For me, it was gradual. I had a lot of hopium and kept things going far longer than I should have.
I think the defining event was when FW went radio silent for three days, not even communicating with our kid. He shut down all his social media, turned off his phone (or blocked me – not sure) and refused to answer my son’s facetime calls or messages. FW had been really sick so I was genuinely worried and drove over to his (our) house just to see if he was still alive. And OW was there with him. She started screaming at me that I had no right to be there, I was a liar, etc. In that moment I saw her for what she was – a stupid little girl. I told her to stay out of it as it had nothing to do with her, and that it was my house and there was nothing that said I couldn’t be there (FW had not made a legal request for use and possession of the home). OW continued screaming at me until I told her that if she continued verbally assaulting me in my own house I would call the cops. That shut her up. She got all apologetic and said she was just there to “help”. I looked her dead in the eye and said “your BRA is hanging out of your shirt. You’re not here to ‘help'”. She got super embarrassed and left. I tried to have a reasonable discussion with FW about how his ignoring our child’s calls and messages was causing our child distress (my son was starting to act out, was wondering if daddy was mad at him, if he’d done something wrong, etc.). FW (of course) was uncooperative and talked in circles for a while about how horrible I was and that it was all my fault, and eventually he said “we have nothing else to talk about”. Instead of trying to argue, I just said, “okay” and I left.
As soon as I got back to where I was staying, my phone started blowing up with FW calling over and over and over. I took great pleasure in hitting the red button, and just went to bed.
I, personally, would put up with a lot directed at me, but when FW started punishing our CHILD because he was angry with me, that was too much.
FW later texted and begged to talk with me. I did have a long phone call with him where he (surprisingly) let me talk uninterrupted. He then apologized for everything except the two things I’d told him were an issue for me (OW, and his violent temper). He was calling me by my pet name and telling me he missed me (I have a suspicion he was extremely p!ssed off at OW at the time and that’s why he reached out at all). As he was talking, I had what I can only describe as a vision – I saw a fork in the road: one path led back to my marriage, with FW doing everything I asked (ditching OW, going to therapy) and the other led to a life by myself without him. And I realized in that moment that for the first time the path of being alone looked so much more appealing; I didn’t want FW back, even if he “solved” all our problems. I wasn’t interested anymore. I didn’t give anything to FW over the phone (I think he expected me to jump at any chance of reconciliation) and he finally said he was tired and we could continue talking later. Later never happened.
After that, I started putting together my divorce petition.
FW died 5 years ago next month (by suic!de). After I got all the administrative BS done with finances and the funeral, etc., I have barely thought of him. I occasionally tell my child stories about his dad and things we used to do. And I can do so without anger or pain or sadness. It’s almost like I’m talking about someone else’s life, not mine. My poor kid suffered from anxiety and depression the whole time FW and I were separated due to dealing with FW’s moods and being shuffled between houses. Now he’s a happy, healthy teenager, doing great in school, calm and relaxed, and very sweet. No depression at all.
Like many others commented, I eventually forgot my anniversary. This year would have been our 18th. It’s just another day now. It’s not sad or nostalgic or painful.
I should note that during that confrontation with OW, both she and FW were still ADAMANTLY denying they were involved with one another, so OW’s disheveled clothing made that lie ridiculous to keep believing. “She’s just a friend” my a$$.
Reading the blog! The early Chumps who responded to CL posts talked about the narcissistic cycle of doing relationships. I googled that stuff and VOILA! I saw Jackass’s relationship life in the cycle. He isn’t special! He’s just an entitled love-bombing, devaluing, discarding F***Wit.
As a lot of people have said in the comments, Meh came gradually. After D Day, even though I physically left him that night and ended things and even went no contact and blocked his social media after sorting out the logistics of moving out, mentally it was a lot harder to recover. It was all I could think about as my brain was working around the clock to make sense of it. I wished I could just move on and not be bothered by it, but I was absolutely devastated by it.
Tiny victories, like not crying during my lunchbreak for the first time. Feeling neutral about it for the first time (even though I did return to being upset again later). Going on my first date after the breakup (even if I did feel sad afterwards). I wasn’t at true Meh then because I was still bothered but I was consciously choosing to move forward with my life and decentralise cheater ex.
I think true Meh came when his new victim contacted me a year later through social media, asking for the downlow of his behaviour. Apparently he’d been slandering me to the point where she got suspicious (!) and he was startingto show gis ugly side to her. I gave her the actual story with screenshots to back it up, and felt hurt all over again that he felt the need to spread lies about me when we’d ended things civilly and he’d moved to another part of the country and not spoken to each other since. I guess I hoped that the breakup would have given him some perspective and he’d fix himself – instead the way he was acting confirmed he was just a bad person. She thanked me and I thought what a win for the sisterhood, another woman saved. Then she proceeded to continue to date him. That’s when I realised she wasn’t a fellow victim but a volunteer. I knew I had reached true Meh when she reached out a second time another year later wanting to talk about his behaviour again and I just couldn’t care less. No curiosity, no wanting to save/help either of them. I blocked and ignored.
I felt embarrassed that it took me so long (two years) to fully get over someone who had cheated on me and that logically I didn’t want to be with but I now recognise what a painful thing it is to get cheated on and blindsided, then have to pick up your life and rebuild in especually difficult circumstances (COVID and job layoff happened a few months later), and I’m quite proud of myself that I put in the work and am now in a state of Meh.