Triggered

I was really caught off guard yesterday. A staff member came into my office visibly upset. He confessed to me that he had an affair ... with the wife of a board member. He was telling me because of the potential repercussions to our organization. (Light bulb moment: this explained the sudden resignation of said board member the afternoon before.)

I haven't been able to get the encounter out of my mind. Part of the trouble is that this man was doing something Mister has never done. He was confessing before I discovered a problem on my own! Still, I was amazed that I could be calm in that moment and not shame this employee in any way. (Calm except for that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.) I felt sorry for him as he shared his story, worried about the rumor mill and tears slid down his cheeks. My heart went out to his wife and I was somewhat relieved to hear that they have marriage counselling set up already. Good for them. I tell him that I hope they can work through it and that I am sure it will be hard and to let me know if he needs some flexibility in his work schedule as they move forward. He says I shouldn't feel sorry for him because he is the #^€&*#!@ that did this.

Wow. That came out of nowhere. Clearly this was completely out of my control. But there I was having to figure out damage control. And I worry that just seeing this person at work may be triggering for a while. The devastation on his face...

My lingering question is: does it ever go away? Do the trigger points fade in time? For now, it makes every other possible trigger easily set off. For example, no way was TV an option just because of the commercials. And I felt compelled to call and warn Mister last night that it was going to be a rough night because my feelings were raw... which he sighed about and felt was completely unfair since HE didn't do anything wrong. Ugh. It has been my experience that this super heightened sensitivity does get better ... but does it ever go away?

Then I arrive home. I find out the "home" cell phone is missing. I immediately feel like Son#3 has it. He lost his own phone the day before and has not yet gotten it replaced. My gut instinct is that he is back into the porn calls... but can I trust my gut? Ever fiber of my being is on high alert. The all too familiar self doubt returns.

Then the morning comes. Positive proof of Son#3's choices surface without any sleuthing or policing. I am hurt. I am disappointed.  I am sad. I wonder why I still doubt myself so easily. I am angry that I hit yet another trip wire.

And then I return to my boundary. I will remember the positive things about my son. I remind myself that he is acting out in addiction but is still responsible for his choices. He brought it into my home and he needs to take it back out.

The cycle of addiction continues but I can choose to feel my hurt and disappointment and sadness then let it go. I can give myself and my son the gift of forgiveness. I can choose to move forward for me in spite of the devastation in Son#3's life. These are his choices. I can repent for not trusting my discernment or turning quickly to the Lord for clarity and peace. And I can turn to Him now. He alone can help me return to a place of peace and healing, as He always has. I trust that He has the power to work a miracle here when the time is right.

The Line Was Drawn and so....

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There it was. I had made this wonderfully important boundary that I was so excited about. I had drawn the line in the sand that would keep love in my heart for my son while also keeping me safe. But as with most lines, once it is drawn then comes the real test.

My heart ached after discovering that Son#3 has been acting out... posting ads on Craigslist with our home address to "hookup." Talk about feeling unsafe! I have worked to keep my boundary and focus on the good but this is a new level of unsafe. Sadly, he is going to have to find somewhere else to live. This just is not okay. His part of the boundary today is calling his voc rehab support person to work on a plan for moving out. My part of the boundary continues to be to focus on positive things about Son#3 and I am pleased that I have been able to do that. I cannot describe how helpful that is to me in finding peace in this moment of trial.

I decided to study Appendix 3: Tough Love and Facing Abuse from the Healing Through Christ workbook. Wow. I hadn't read it before and it left me in a puddle as I felt the Spirit witness of its truth and helping me to feel even more peace about having COURAGEOUS LOVE for Son#3. 

In 1929 Elder Orson F. Whitney of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said: “You parents of the wilful and the wayward! Don’t give them up. Don’t cast them off. They are not utterly lost. The Shepherd will find his sheep. They were his before they were yours—long before he entrusted them to your care; and you cannot begin to love them as he loves them. They have but strayed in ignorance from the Path of Right, and God is merciful to ignorance. Only the fulness of knowledge brings the fulness of accountability. Our Heavenly Father is far more merciful, infinitely more charitable, than even the best of his servants, and the Everlasting Gospel is mightier in power to save than our narrow finite minds can comprehend” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1929, 110).

He is angry and spitting his displeasure at me every time we talk. But I have amazingly been able to remain calm and retreat to another room to reflect on his strengths and consider how those strengths will help him when he is ready to seek recovery. Whew. Still it is emotionally draining and little thoughts creep into my head about why I haven't chosen to be courageous with Mister in the same way... but then I feel a peaceful feeling about doing what I can right now and leaving the rest to the Lord for now.

As I pondered on what I was learning from this appendix material, I was reminded of an experience I'd had several years ago. I am grateful for a lesson I learned about myself then while serving at girls camp. I learned that I have the gift of faith.

"But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal.
For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit;
To another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit;
To another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues; to another the interpretation of tongues:
But all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will." (1 Corinthians 12:7-11)

Brother K indicated he needed to talk to me for a minute as I was swiftly navigating the halls at church. I was guiding Ariana back to class, and then needed to ring the bell and check on Nursery. When those tasks were complete, Brother K and I ducked into the kitchen for that talk.

The location of our visit was somewhat amusing, considering the purpose of his visit was to extend a call for Camp Cook at Girl's Camp. He shared the basic responsibilities, and said that another High Councilman was actually over Girl's Camp, but since Brother K is in my ward, he was extending the call in that brother's behalf. Because he was not handling most of the callings for camp, he did not know who I would be serving with but was sure the stake Young Women president would be in attendance.

The entire Stake Young Women's Presidency had changed during the last year, and the sisters are all from wards rather distant from my own. I don't even see these women during Stake Conference, because the stake is split with the northern units having a session at our chapel and the southern units meeting at the Stake Center. These sisters are from the southern portion of our stake. I did not know who they were.

Then, he told me the dates of the camp. Brother K said he had already talked to my husband and that he knew this was the same week Mister and some of our sons would be going to the Boundary Waters for High Adventure, but to please try to work it out and get back to him in the next week. I wanted to accept. Then, off I went to tend to my Primary duties.

Girl's Camp was rolling around in my mind for the remainder of the day. I had gone last year and had such a great experience. But, who would care for our three youngest gentlemen? Would it even be fair to them to be gone while their father and older brothers were already away? What would I do with the two dogs? What would preparations be like after sending off the scouts the day before? Could I reasonably do this?

Camp was a major topic over the next few days. Mister was very supportive and said he would do what he could to help. But, really, there was only so much he could do since he would be gone. It would be a burden to ask my parents to watch the gentlemen. They had done so last year, but my mom had taken a job since then. She or Dad would have to take vacation in order to watch the children. Asking Mister's parents also seemed out of the question. Mister was already borrowing their Suburban for the scout trip that same week. It was a lot to ask of his non-member parents to be supportive of two church activities, especially when one did not specifically benefit their child or grandchild. There were so many issues and angles to consider. Mister and I practically discussed it forward, backward, upside down, and inside out. I had prayed about the matter but had not yet found the solution.

Son#3 had overhead some of our discussion. This became apparent while we were visiting Mister's parents that 

week. Son#3 piped up as inspiration struck him. He and his two younger brothers could stay with Grandpa and Grandma during camp. He was certain this was the solution! 

Mister's parents were confused, as were the rest of the gentlemen. Mister briefly explained that I had been asked to go to Girl's Camp again this year, but that it was the same week as the Boundary Waters trip. I felt so uncomfortable at this sudden exposure of my dilemma, that I nearly missed it when my father-in-law said he thought they could do that. My mother-in-law thought it was odd that I, the mother of five sons and no daughters, would be asked to go to the girl's camp again. She knew last year was a last minute kind of deal, because the original cook needed assistance after having knee surgery the week before camp. But, she had run Cub Scout day camp for years and knew these types of things were a lot of work, as well as a lot of fun. Then she confirmed that it wouldn't be any problem at all to tend our youngest three.

Next, they asked me who else would be going to camp. Over the years, they have gotten to know a number of people from our church and they were curious if any of those people would be at camp. However, I didn't know any of the other leaders. They both chuckled at this confession. It hadn't struck me as odd until that moment.

Later, my in-laws would also agree to supervise our gentlemen in caring for our two dogs while I was away. My in-laws live right next door, so it would be easy enough to check on the pets. I was awed by their willing support.

On the last night of Girl's Camp we had testimony meetings in our individual camp sites. It was a powerful meeting with the stake camp leaders. I had gotten to know and love these sisters over the course of three days. A part of my testimony was about the missionary opportunity this call had provided for my family. I recounted these pre-camp events and said that it was one more time my in-laws had an opportunity to see the workings of the church, and to let them be a part of that in some way.

When I concluded my testimony, the stake camp director commented about how amazed she was at this example of faith. I didn't really think of it as faith before then. I was a bit nervous about going to camp and even sharing a tent with women I did not know, but it was enough for me that the call had been extended. The Lord would be with me; I didn't need more.

This reminded me of a calling that had been extended to Mister and me. At the time, he had reservations and wanted to think it through before providing an answer. I, on the other hand, was rearing to go and excited about the call. We had some discussion at that time because he didn't understand why I am always so willing to accept callings, even if I was unsure of my abilities or other various circumstances. I didn't understand why that was hard to understand.

This memory, in turn, reminded me of a friend's comments after she gave a talk in sacrament meeting about spiritual gifts. In her research, she read a talk given by Elder Dallin H. Oaks. His first sentence was, "Faith is a spiritual gift" (Dallin H. Oaks, "Spiritual Gifts," Ensign, Sept. 1986, 68).

When it comes to church callings, I believe I have the gift of faith. I know that when a call is extended, it comes for a reason and that the Lord will fill in the gaps for me when I give it my all. This is a gift of faith.

Elder Oaks also said, "We should seek after spiritual gifts. They can lead us to God. They can shield us from the power of the adversary. They can compensate for our inadequacies and repair our imperfections."

These words bring tears to my eyes as I recall another portion of my testimony at Girl's Camp. I felt a healing balm was applied to me during that short window of service. There have been many years that I felt I would never serve in Young Women because of some choices I made when I was a young woman myself. Last year, I did not receive a formal call, but was asked to help out as a personal favor to my friend who was the Stake Young Women's Presidency member in charge of camp. This year, I was selected and called just like everyone else.

This year, I felt a final repairing of an imperfection I had felt within myself, one that I had myself created. It had prevented me from attending my own sixth year of Girl's Camp 16 years before. But this year I accomplished all of the requirements I could not complete back then. This is a tender mercy that I have been given, and it began with the spiritual gift of faith when this calling was extended.

On the last day of camp, we had an award ceremony. As each girl came forward to receive her award, she also was able to select a value magnet from the Stake Young Women's Presidency. They get to collect one value magnet each time they meet with their Stake Young Women leaders. I was surprised when I was called forward to receive the Golden Spoon award. The Stake Young Women's Presidency then invited me to select a value magnet. I chose faith.

Appendix 3 has a lot of references to faith and it is soothing to my soul to be reminded that I have the gift of faith... that I have stepped forward in faith before and been successful and that gives me strength to know I can do it now. I also loved being reminded of the above experience because it helps me to fondly recall this moment of inspiration from Son#3 and I know that there is a great deal of good within him, even though I am frustrated by the choices he makes in addiction now. The Lord has prepared me for this moment. I am awed at the way these pieces of my life fit together so well. I am amazed at His loving training that came in anticipation of this day that I had no idea was coming. (That makes sense in my heart even though I don't think I am expressing it very well.) God is great! 

♥ I can only imagine what He might be preparing me for now. ♥

Gratitude Boundary

I am super excited about a new boundary I have chosen with my son. So, I feel unsafe when he brings pornography into our home in any way. I have felt like the boundary needs to include something that I do because it is my boundary, not a punishment for Son#3.  Here is whst I decided.

If/when Son#3 brings pornography into our home, he is responsible for taking it back out. That means that if it happened with his phone, his phone has to be outside of our home for at least 24 hours. He can lock it in his car or put it out in the garage, but it can't be in our home. If it's a magazine or DVD, he has to get it to the trash or the burn pit. My part of the boundary is that I am going to let go of being in control of disposing of this filth that I didn't invite into my home. I will let go of my fear and frustration and (this is the best part) I will focus on the amazing and wonderful person that Son#3 was, is and can yet become. I will take time to remember the strengths and talents he holds. I will celebrate the goodness of Son#3 and push out the negative feelings I have about my son because of his addiction. I will make time to remember who he really is and write down positive affirmations about him. I will be glad to share that with Son#3 if and when he wants to hear/see it.

I can't even begin to describe how excited I am about my side of this boundary because I want to have peace and grow my love for Son#3 in spite of his addiction. My boundary means the addiction doesn't win because I will not allow it to overshadow my dear son. This is my gratitude boundary!

Remembering Who I Am

Today, I know this is true about me. I know it is true about all of the tender wives. But sometimes we forget.

I ♥ my Sponsor!

It took a little time for me to find her, but I am so grateful for my wonderful sponsor. There have been moments where the Lord has led the two of us to the exact same thing and as we share them, I know that I am blessed to be working with her and that she is listening to the promptings of the Spirit as she helps me. That is an amazing kind of person to have on your team! As far as I am concerned, she is a ministering angel in the flesh.

I ♥ my sponsor!

Today I was working on one of the assignments she had given me and my heart is so full. She asked me to read "The Infinite Power of Hope" by Presidnet Uchtdorf from last October's General Conference.

This was a fantastic talk! I felt prompted to have the print version in front of me to annotate while I listened to the video of President Uchtdorf speaking. I've marked it up a lot because there were so many wonderful parts of this talk. One of my favorites was:

No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations.

Because of the prompting to listen while I made my notes, I found that there was a sentence that President Uchtdorf spoke that was not in the printed version.

I recall that several years ago there was a change in procedures that requires the speakers in General Conference provide a written copy of their talks in advance. This means that the missing sentence was a pure addition from a prompting of the Spirit and that makes it all the more sweet to my soul.

President Uchtdorf said:

If only we could glimpse for a moment what the Lord has in store for us, not only in the next life but in this one as well, our hope would be unshakable and despair could never overcome us.

​I am holding on to this thought. It helps to put things into perspective. Plus, I am now even more excited to hear what is shared during this October's General Conference. I was already looking forward to this weekend after the fabulous talks shared during the General Relief Society meeting last Saturday. I was especially grateful for Sister Reeve's talk, which spoke directly to my heart and I hope that it also provided hope for all the other tender wives out there ... especially those who have not yet found the support they need.

I am grateful for the rich resources available to us:
Healing Through Christ workbook 
Hope and Healing forum
Support group
Blogs
Addo

Heavenly Father provides all that we need and I am glad that he guided me to find these resources so that my heart can heal and I can work my own recovery. I am just beginning to really understand the importance of letting my addicted loved ones find their own recovery when they are ready and willing to work for it.

I am grateful to be learning how to interact with them in a way that demonstrates love and forgiveness even while trust does not yet exist. That means I do not harm them and it helps to heal me.

There was a time that I really wanted revenge and to make them suffer for the hurt in my heart. But, it wasn't doing me any good. If they need to be punished, it isn't up to me. And haven't we all suffered enough anyway? It's not what I want for me. It's not what I want for them. I choose to be true to who I am ... and that means becoming more like the Savior and developing unshakable hope.

If only we could glimpse for a moment what the Lord has in store for us, not only in the next life but in this one as well, our hope would be unshakable and despair could never overcome us.

He Answers

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I have an amazing visiting teacher. She has been a fantastic example of how to love others and I have worked to find that part of myself again over the last few months ... to shut out the negativity and harshness that is part of my life and to be more gentle and loving with every person who I come into contact with. It has been a wonderful experiment as I have expressed love more often and in more ways than I had in a very long time. I missed this part of who I am more than I even realized! And it has helped the real me to come out from hiding.

I have learned to be a very private person over the years, in large part due to the shame I have felt about Mister's addiction. The person he is under the influence of his addiction scares me sometimes. Part of the reason that I have stayed is because I fear him and what he will do if I try to leave. That is the truth. But I am done hiding and know that it is time for me to brave.

"Wherefore, the Lord commandeth you, when ye shall see these things come among you that ye shall awake to a sense of your awful situation" (Ether 8:24)

This week I had a lunch date with my visiting teacher and as I prayed for the Lord's guidance, I knew that I needed to share more with her about what is going on in my life. She has known that I have been looking for another job and that was the opening of the door that let me share a little bit more with her. She asked how the job search was going and I told her that a job opportunity had been posted that seemed perfect for me, but was in a city that is three hours away. I told her that I had really considered it for some time and finally told myself, "Hey, Self! Don't you trust the Lord? Don't you believe that He will provide? What if this is His answer for you?" And so I applied for the job and am waiting to hear.

She asked if I would get an apartment and come home on the weekends or if the whole family would move and Mister would find another job. I took a deep breath and told her that if I took that job, it would be an answer to my prayers and part of that answer would be that Mister would not go with me.

The tears welled up in my eyes. She looked at me and did not ask a thing. She only said that maybe it would be a relief and just bring healing to my soul to be that far away. She told me that I am still young and have so much life left to live... that I deserve to be happy and that my children deserve to have a happy mom.

She. was. fantastic.

In the quiet of the following morning, I heard the Lord speaking to me in the scriptures and it echoed what my sweet visiting teacher had said:

"For the Lord hath called thee as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, and a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God. For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.
"O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest, and not comforted, behold, I will lay thy stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations with sapphires. And I will make thy windows of agates, and thy gates of carbuncles, and all thy borders of pleasant stones. And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children. In righteousness shalt thou be established: thou shalt be far from oppression; for thou shalt not fear: and from terror; for it shall not come near thee."

(Isaiah 54:6-8, 11-14)

Then in sacrament meeting on Sunday, the words of a hymn made me think of all of this again:

We'll find the place which God for us prepared,
Far away in the West,
Where none shall come to hurt or make afraid;
There the Saints will be blessed.

(Come, Come Ye Saints - Hymn #30)

The entire song seemed to be for me as I contemplated it. So if this isn't the job that the Lord is leading me to, I still know that He is leading me somewhere. Somewhere safe. Somewhere I won't have to be afraid.Somewhere that I can teach my children and they can have peace. I cannot describe what comfort and joy that thought brings to my soul.

JOY in the Morning

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When I woke up this morning, Son#1 was not sleeping on the couch as he had planned. I was a little disappointed but was not giving up on the thought of him coming to church with us. He told us that he had committed to the Bishop that he would attend church and so I assumed that something had changed in his plan last night that kept him from coming to our house. (He was working late and doesn't have a car of his own so maybe his ride was a roommate that just wanted to go home.)

I asked Son#2 if he would be willing to go over to his brother's house and offer him a ride to church. (I knew that Mister would be less than thrilled to even stop so I avoided making it a battle.) Son#2 agreed and headed out.

Sacrament meeting started and our two eldest gentlemen were not there. I wondered if Son#1 changed his mind and doubted myself for asking Son#2 to pick him up. What if neither of them showed up? Maybe I should have gone ahead and pushed the issue with Mister, speaking the truth of the importance of reaching out to Son#1 and encouraging him to choose the right. Sigh.

We were singing the sacrament hymn when my sweet sons walked into the chapel. My heart soared!

"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth" (3 John 1:4).

It was an amazing feeling to be sitting beside all of my gentlemen in sacrament meeting for the first time in months. I love them so much! As I gazed down the line at them, I distinctly felt the impression that their chairs would not be empty in heaven. The happiest of tears came to my eyes as I remembered a part of my patriarchal blessing promising that at the resurrection I would have with me my posterity for whom I had worked diligently. I don't know how that will happen exactly. But I do know that I cannot stop believing in them or in the master plan that I do not have the privilege or ability to see at this time.

Today's tender mercy ... a moment of sheer JOY! ♥

Powerless ... CHECK!

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Son#3 made some very poor choices today. In fact, yesterday I kept feeling like something was off with him and just couldn't quite put my finger on it. But, when he walked in the front door after work and ran straight up to his room, I knew he had been acting out again.

I lost my focus and snapped myself to CrAZyTowN in an instant. I made him turn out his pockets and there was a receipt showing he emptied all the cash out of his bank account. Up the stairs I flew to see what he had hidden in his room. There were the magazines beneath the mattress. There was the phone beside his bed. The history on the phone indicated that he'd been calling the sex lines yet again. There was also a local number at the end of the history that he'd been corresponding with one hour before he walked in the door. The money, the local unknown number, the time span when he should have been at work ... I knew what he had done. I searched his room a bit before I caught myself.

I don't want to be this crazy person. I can dig up all the evidence that I want but it doesn't change anything.

I left his room with the magazines in hand. I wasn't leaving them behind for future use or for discovery by his brothers. They have no place in my home. I sat down Son#3 and told him I found the magazines and the phone log. I told him I knew there was more. He admitted that he had hired another prostitute.

Mister hit the roof. He is angry. He cannot deal with this. Mister wants Son#3 out of the house. I look at him and find myself in disbelief that he has felt so deserving of so many chances, literally years and even decades of wallowing in his own addiction, but has zero tolerance for our son. I send Mister out of the room. He is in his own corner of crazytown and I can't cope with both of them at once.

I asked Son#3 if he thought he had a problem. He said that he did ... and I want to believe him, but I think he was just trying to end the conversation. Sigh.

I don't know what to do. I'm not sure what the appropriate boundaries are but I hate it when my home no longer feels like a safe place. And I hate it that I can't protect him from himself. I so want to fix this for him. But I cannot.

"Step One: Come to understand and accept that we are powerless over the addiction of a loved one and recognize that our lives have become unmanageable." (Healing Through Christ Workbook)

Got it. I have no power over the addiction and my own choices in response are making my own life unmanageable. In this moment, I am giving myself permission to just breathe and let the feelings wash over me. I feel sad, even heartbroken. I feel angry. I feel frustrated. And I feel powerless.

Yet, I have hope. I know that while I do not have any power in this situation, the Lord does. He has the power to help and to heal. I have to release this to Him. I put my faith in Him and trust that somehow we will get through this ... one step at a time.

Who Has He Become?

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I don't believe I have mentioned it before, but Son#1 is a wayward soul. He was an amazingly strong youth who left the path in high school when he chose to find momentary happiness in things of the world. He no longer lives with us. He is an adult. It is hard to watch his life choices sometimes, but I still love him. I know that right now he is a sleeping giant, spiritually speaking, and there isn't much I can do about that but to keep on loving him, having faith in him, praying for him and trusting in the Lord who knows how to help him best.

Sadly, Son#1's example made it much easier for Son#2 to find excuses for making spiritual things a low priority. Son#3 has pretty much always struggled with his testimony ... and was the most likely to echo out loud to me some of the hateful things Mister would say when he was justifying his own behavior. Then Son#3 seemed to follow right after his father in this cesspool of addiction. It has been heartbreaking to know these are their choices when I know the gospel is the only way to find true, lasting joy. I have often felt helpless in this regard.

2 Nephi 1:17-19, "My heart hath been weighed down with sorrow from time to time, for I have feared, lest for the hardness of your hearts the Lord your God should come out in the fulness of his wrath upon you, that ye be cut off and destroyed forever;
Or that a cursing should come upon you for the space of many generations; and ye are visited by sword, and by famine, and are hated, and are led according to the will and captivity of the devil
O my sons, that these things might not come upon you, but that ye might be a choice and a favored people of the Lord. But behold, his will be done; for his ways are righteousness forever."

So, recently when Mister was in the hospital he asked for the Bishop to come visit him. Mister was face to face with the reality of his mortality at that moment and Bishop spoke to him without sugar coating a thing. (I was not there, but Bishop confirmed that was true.) Mister said that Bishop told him that it is Mister's fault that Son#1 has fallen away and that Son#2 and Son#3 are struggling with their testimonies because Mister has spent far too long leaning on my testimony and expecting me to provide all of the spiritual nourishment that our family needed. Bishop told Mister it wasn't fair and that he would be held accountable for his choices. He also told Mister that there was time to change, but it is up to Mister to decide if he wants to change and wants to help rescue our sons from the darkness he led them to. Mister was quite upset about the conversation, which was cut short when Mister's parents stopped in for a visit. I thought maybe that moment was going to be a wake up call.

A couple of weeks ago, Son#1 mentioned that the missionaries were coming to his house regularly and teaching him. Those visits also included a member of the Elders Quorum presidency. I was excited to hear that he was taking this step and felt a little glimmer of light, but Mister thought it was a joke. Yesterday, Son#1 called to see if he could borrow a large pan for some big dinner he wanted to make for all of his roommates. While he was over getting the pan, he mentioned that this week when the missionaries came, the Bishop came with them. Son#1 said that the Bishop told him that he came because Son#1 is so important. Son#1 said that because of that visit, he is planning to come crash on our couch tonight after work so that he can go to church with us in the morning. I was thrilled!

Mister's reaction? "What a crock! Can you believe the Bishop fed him a line like that? He's just trying to feed Son#1's ego to get him to come to church. Important? Ha!"

I felt deflated. What kind of parent has that kind of reaction? Where is the Mister I pledged my heart to and created these children with? It has been nearly 8 months since Mister was excommunicated and I see no indication that he prays or reads scriptures or is making any sort of effort to be prepared to come back to the church. In fact, most of our family religious observances occur in another room while he watches TV in the living room. I fear the man I once knew has disappeared forever...

Wake Up Call: He Has Choices Too

Mister hasn't been very happy with me lately. As his health improves and he continues to recover from his surgeries, he has wanted more from me than I have been willing to give. Frankly, it was a nice break to have the sexual tension and pressure relieved for a while. So, the second night that he tried to get something going in the bedroom and I hesitated, he shocked me with this little gem:

"You know, if you don't start showing some interest in me, then I'm leaving."

Wow. All of the time that I have spent agonizing over the decision to go or to stay ... no where in all of the weighing of options had I even once considered that Mister would leave me. I was shocked at the thought of it. But, we all have choices. 

And that's okay.

Boys Are Smelly

Do you suppose it's wrong that I keep my Healing Through Christ manual in a three-ring binder that says "boys are smelly" on the cover?

Sometimes you just need to laugh. This one is mine today.

Mister is home from the hospital. While he was away, I discovered even more porn calls on son#3's phone (saved voicemails ... and can I just say, "Gross!") Today Mister decides that the best course of action is to tell Son#3 that this is it. Three strikes and you're out. Start looking for an apartment. You're done. It was Mister's attempt at a wake up call. I was incredibly put off by it all. Like, how many chances has Mister gotten? 

Really? 

Boys are smelly.

Except when they're not.

Our cutie patootie 20 year old Son#2 went out on his first date ever a couple of days ago... with a girl... and he turned all red and embarrassed just talking about it. I love that. Those are the moments I live for. That's when I can look at Mister in awe of the complete failure of a decision he has just made in trying to scare our son into giving up his addiction and tell myself, "This is not my life."

My life is about the first dates and innocence and loving who our gentlemen have become, are becoming and will yet become. That's why they get fourth chances. And fifth chances and more. It's about the becoming. I can't expect any of them to change over night (except when they grow up in the second when I blink).

I don't expect big leaps of change from Son#3 in just a few months when Mister hasn't made those changes in decades of our married life. They just need to understand who they really are and that He is on their side. I'm not giving up on them yet... even if they are smelly.

Boundaries and the Great Beyond

My support group has been discussing step two in the Healing Through Christ workbook and tonight we were reviewing and sharing about boundaries. It all feels like new territory to me. I have a history of not being very good at this boundary business.

I remember a number of years ago after Mister's first major D-day, our bishop told me that I needed to tell Mister my expectations and make him live up to them. I knew what I wanted and needed so I shared those with Mister but I had no clue how to enforce a boundary so my list of expectations quickly became a list of wishes that I would cross off when it was apparent that wish wasn't coming true. In other words, I gave up pretty quickly when Mister's push back came.

But, life is always changing and this lady is better prepared today than I was nearly nine years ago. I'm ready to blaze new boundaries on those once unknown frontiers!

The timing of this discussion on boundaries couldn't  have been better. I received a phone call from our ward's executive secretary while I was at work today. He asked if I would come and meet with the bishop at 6:30 tonight and I agreed. Our bishop is pretty new to his calling and so a majority of our conversation was talking about my gentlemen and catching him up to speed with how each of them are doing and how he might be able to support and encourage them. (By the way, I am most grateful for a couple of tender mercies in this meeting. One: Bishop never asked me to discuss how Mister is doing. Two: I could share my concerns about my gentlemen without tears.)

In our meeting, Bishop also extended a new calling to me. He said I would be sustained and set apart on Sunday. The thing is, this calling will mean that I am no longer available to sit beside Mister during Sunday School. This is a big deal to him.

About 7 years ago, he agreed to attend Sunday School as long as I would sit with him and I agreed since I had already been attending the meeting and had every intention of continuing to do so. For several months I did just that, but then I was called to serve in the Primary presidency and my calling became his excuse to not attend Sunday School anymore. You see, I had broken my promise.

Tonight I made a boundary. I am giving up control of the outcome (not that it was ever really mine anyway), and handing it over to the Lord. I will go and serve in this capacity that the Lord, through his servant the Bishop, has asked me to do. I will not concern myself with whether or not Mister will attend Sunday School. If he chooses not to attend, I will not accept responsibility for that choice. It is his choice and his alone.

“Many of you have loved ones who are wandering off the path to eternal life. You wonder what more you can do to bring them back. You can depend on the Lord to draw closer to them as you serve Him in faith" (Henry B. Eyring, “Come Unto Me,” Ensign, May 2013).

"…they are in mine hands, and I will do with them as seemeth me good; for in me there is all power.”(D&C 100:1)

I recognize that this may be a little scary as Mister responds to my boundary. But, I will be true to myself and what I know to be right. And I will be brave enough to continue setting boundaries under the Lord's direction.

The fabulous women in my support group have made boundaries and not only survived, but expressed the joy they have experienced as a result. I will lean on them a little for added courage. Much love to them all for sharing their strength and powerful examples with me! ♥

Doing the Two-Step

Mister has been in and out of the hospital the last few days ... a scheduled surgery to remove a decaying gallbladder followed by an emergency repair surgery. It has been emotionally draining and painful when I least expected it.

First, there was the whole registration process. Verifying information and scanning insurance cards.... it shouldn't have been a big deal. Except all of a sudden it was.

"We have your religious preference as Mormon. Is that correct?"

Mister said, "No."

I was in momentary shock when the second hit came.

"Do have a particular church affiliation?"

Mister again said, "No."

I didn't say a word. They were his answers to give. It wasn't so much his answers that hurt. It was everything they stood for. My heart stung.

Immediately after his excommunication, Mister made an effort to read his scriptures and to at least pay attention during the meetings on Sunday. But, lately I had noticed a change. I never saw him reading his scriptures and Sunday meetings were a good time to doze in and out between the speakers and teachers that seemed to bore him. But it was supposed to be a snap for him to just be re-baptized after his one year was up, right? Was he even planning to try to regain his covenants anymore?

Deep breath. Remember, he is entitled to his agency.

“Do not attempt to override agency. 

The Lord himself would not do that. 

Forced obedience yields no blessings” 

(Elder Richard G. Scott, “To Help a Loved One in Need,” Ensign, May 1988).

I tried to feel the hurt and let it go. Obviously I was not as successful as I would have hoped because here it is three days later and I am still feeling the sting.

I was also triggered by the nurses who cared for Mister. I felt jealous when he commented about feeling comforted as one nurse rubbed his head and another massaged his legs just before the anesthetic was administered. I was annoyed that he thought it was amusing to have the nurses lift up his gown and have free access/view to his bare body. I was irritated by Mister's comments about getting a nurse to give him a sponge bath since I didn't get back up to the hospital quickly enough this morning. I was embarrassed when he told me to go home again because I wasn't doing anything to help him and he had lots of other ladies to look after him and tend to his every need.

I left and on my drive home I began to feel anger and resentment toward these women. I've taken at least two steps backward.

My thoughts about these women are ridiculous. They didn't deserve them. They had done nothing wrong. But, isn't that a useful wedge? If I begin to look at other women as the enemies, who is that really hurting? 

I remembered Step Two in the Healing Through Christ manual.

“There is no physical pain, no anguish of

soul, no suffering of spirit, no infirmity or weakness

that you or I ever experience during our mortal journey

that the Savior did not experience first. You and I

in a moment of weakness may cry out, ‘No one understands.

No one knows.’ No human being, perhaps,

knows. But the Son of God perfectly knows and understands,

for He felt and bore our burdens before we

ever did. And because He paid the ultimate price and

bore that burden, He has perfect empathy and can

extend to us His arm of mercy in so many phases of

our life. He can reach out, touch and succor—literally

run to us—and strengthen us to be more than we

could ever be and help us to do that which we could

never do through relying only upon our own power”

(David A. Bednar, BYU Devotional, “In the Strength of the Lord,” Oct. 23, 2001)

I begin to place a prayer in my heart, calling out to the Savior. He knows the pain I am feeling. He can help me.

I remember that in Step Two we learn gratitude is a powerful tool to assist us in our healing. Can I use that tool to pull the victim's venom out of my heart today? 

Time to dance the Two-Step: Why am I grateful for the nurses and other female staff at the hospital?

• I am grateful for their knowledge to help Mister through this physical healing process.
• I am grateful that they can take care of him while I get some sleep at night.
• I am grateful they can push him to take care of himself (like doing his deep breathing to prevent pneumonia) and that he listens to them.
• I am grateful that they show kindness and compassion for the patient in spite of the gruffness expressed to them through the physical pain.
• I am grateful they provide comfort and hospitality for our family when we visit.
• I am grateful they take time to share updates with us about Mister's current status even when there are other patients to tend.
• I am grateful when they remind me to take care of myself (go take a break, get something to eat, etc.)
• I am grateful for their service.
• I am grateful they are my sisters in the grand scheme of things.

I feel better focusing on the good in these women. They are not my enemies. They are beautiful and they have blessed me and my family with their wisdom, talents and charity.

I am grateful I have these steps to help me on the road of recovery and continue toward my goal of finding joy in my life.

Tears of Tenderness

Credit

Hopeless Romantic

I miss the mushy moments. Sadly, these days Mister can't sweep me off my feet anymore because my feet are firmly planted in the rich soil of recovery. That also means I recognize the big piles of manure. Sigh. I miss the love story.

Victory Will Wait: 1st Annual WOPA Pioneer Day

Check out this fabulous post for this special day!

Victory Will Wait: 1st Annual WOPA Pioneer Day: A few months ago, I had the idea to celebrate Pioneer Day, July 24th, as a holiday for Wives of Porn Addicts (WOPAs). Below is a descri...

Finding Peace

Credit

Feeling very grateful for finding a support group meeting at last. Tears rolled down my face for most of the meeting but it was a good, cleansing cry. ♥

A Swing... and a MISS!

Today is my day. I had finally found a way that I could go to a support group that seemed like it might be the right place for me. It was a phone group, but that was okay. Most important, it wasn't the group that Mister wanted me to go to. It wasn't the spouse support group connected to his SAA group. I don't like SAA. It just doesn't feel right to me for a variety of reasons that I won't go into at this moment.

I was mentally gearing up for this meeting tonight. As the hour approached, I felt nervous about the unknown and anxious that it might not be exactly what I hoped it would be. But, I was brave and dialed the number just like I had planned. And then I waited... and waited... and waited. It was 10 minutes past the time the meeting was supposed to start and nothing had happened yet. I felt so disappointed!

It is an ingrained part of my being to never be late. If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, forget about it. Humph.

I double checked my email for the correct meeting time. I had to do a conversion because I live in a different time zone. Then I checked the time conversion I'd done in my head with an actual converter online. Oops. I was two hours early!

Back to square one... I can do this. I will attend my first support meeting. It will be okay.

Legal vs Moral

My morning started with Mister waking me up to inform me that Son#3's cell phone was beeping this morning (because he is on restriction and lost the privilege of having his phone with him). Mister checked it out only to discover a barrage of text messages and voicemails from the wee hours of the morning. Son#3 was back on the sex lines and trying to set up a meeting with another prostitute. 

Of course this is also not helpful for Mister's sobriety. He will leave for work and that drive will take him directly through the spaces and places where Mister has typically been one of the "Joe's" in that portion of the world that I would prefer to forget it even exists. I choose not to stress over it (and find myself practicing my relaxation breathing just typing about it). Instead, I go through my morning routine, including saying my prayers and trying to relinquish control to the Lord.

Next up in my morning is getting to prod Son#3 awake and get him motivated for the morning since he has an appointment with his psychologist. Now, it is very difficult in my area to find a qualified therapist that specializes in porn/sex addiction recovery. This is his second visit with this particular therapist and the first time Mister was the one that accompanied Son#3 for the visit.

The psychologist asks to visit with me first and asks what has been happening with Son#3. I detail the events in the last 24 hours and then I am surprised by the reaction I receive. I get a lecture about Son#3 being 18 years old and that he has done nothing illegal. (Point of information: If I am not mistaken, soliciting a prostitute is, in fact, illegal.) My personal moral preferences may not align with his choices, but that doesn't make them actually wrong. He has a right to sexual feelings and expression of those feelings within the bounds of the law. Furthermore, I am told that I am not qualified to make the determination that Son#3 has a porn addiction.

So, based on all of this.... 

YOU'RE FIRED!

This doesn't really help things with Son#3 who is now convinced that I am nothing but a religious freak and an abusive parent for trying to squelch his sexuality. Can this day get worse? (Please don't answer that.)

"The societies in which many of us live have for more than a generation failed to foster moral discipline. They have taught that truth is relative and that everyone decides for himself or herself what is right. Concepts such as sin and wrong have been condemned as 'value judgments.' As the Lord describes it, 'Every man walketh in his own way, and after the image of his own god' (D&C 1:16).

"As a consequence, self-discipline has eroded and societies are left to try to maintain order and civility by compulsion. The lack of internal control by individuals breeds external control by governments" (Moral Discipline, D. Todd Christofferson Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, October 2009).

“Policemen and laws can never replace customs, traditions and moral values as a means for regulating human behavior. At best, the police and criminal justice system are the last desperate line of defense for a civilized society. Our increased reliance on laws to regulate behavior is a measure of how uncivilized we’ve become” (Walter Williams, “Laws Are a Poor Substitute for Common Decency, Moral Values,” Deseret News, Apr. 29, 2009, A15).

“There is a great risk in justifying what we do individually and professionally on the basis of what is ‘legal’ rather than what is ‘right.’ In so doing, we put our very souls at risk. The philosophy that what is legal is also right will rob us of what is highest and best in our nature. What conduct is actually legal is, in many instances, way below the standards of a civilized society and light years below the teachings of the Christ. If you accept what is legal as your standard of personal or professional conduct, you will deny yourself of that which is truly noble in your personal dignity and worth” (President James E. Faust, “Be Healers,” Clark Memorandum, spring 2003, 3).

Agency Abused

My sons have grown up listening to me often repeat, "You choose the behavior but you don't choose the consequences."

I get that we all have our agency and that it is a precious gift. But, I hate, Hate, HATE it when agency is abused.

This was exhibited just tonight. Son#3 was allowed to look for some car parts on eBay a few nights ago. He found some things and made some purchases. He is 18 years old and should be able to make some choices for himself. Two packages arrived in the mail today. Something just seemed "off" and so he was told to open the packages in front of me. 

Package 1: Spark plug. Awesome. 

Package 2: "Oh it's just a catalog." That doesn't fly. He has to open the package. He carefully opens the large white envelope, pulls out a piece of cardboard and peeks inside. "Yup. It's a catalog." I have a strong suspicion I already know what is inside. Sadly, I am right. He has abused his agency and exchanged his freedom for a Penthouse magazine that will never be removed from its cellophane wrapper.

His excuse, "What? I have an addiction. It's not my fault."

Recovery? Nope. Not even close. I can't make him want it... no matter how much I want to control his decisions, I am not in control. And I don't like it.

Like Father, Like Son

Not only does Mister have a sex addiction with a particular inclination for prostitutes, but I also discovered that Son#3 has a porn addiction.

D-Day April 2013:

I am at work sitting at my desk when I suddenly feel absolute panic about Son#3. Something is wrong. I can feel it and there is no mistaking it. I immediately call the school to check on him. They assure me that he is at his work study site and that all is well. I cannot shake the feeling. I try calling his cell phone but he doesn't answer. I have no idea what is going on.

Son#2 calls me in a matter of minutes and asks why Son#3 is at home. (Son#2 is graduated and home on break between his double shifts at work.) In this instant there is a flash of knowledge that comes to my mind and I know what has happened ... which makes absolutely no sense because there is no way that I can actually know anything about what just transpired. I am sick to my stomach. I ask Son#2 what happened. He says he came home from work and saw Son#3 rush up the stairs and then heard his bedroom door slam shut.  So much for him being safely at his work site.

Son#3 is an 18 year old senior in high school. However, he also lives with Aspergers and has really never been part of his peer group. He has never dated. He had a long term crush on a girl in our ward for about 7 years, starting in Primary when they were 8. But he has never had a "normal" dating type of relationship. 

A few weeks prior, I discovered that Son#3 had posted an ad on Craigslist seeking "models" to photograph. It was completely inappropriate and I thought that this was a curiosity kind of thing. We talked about why it was wrong and the parameters of appropriate intimate relationships. We talk about why pornography is destructive and how his ad was really an attempt to create pornography. I had no idea this was the tip of the iceberg.

He tried to tell me that he simply got out of his work site early that day. I knew it wasn't true. Then I found my first bit of evidence. One of my checkbooks is in my bedroom with a check written out to some person that I don't even know for $400. It is clearly not my handwriting, but Son#3's handwriting. I confront him. He denies it. I am flabbergasted. I check my bank account to see if the check has been cashed and it has. Son#3 continues to deny it. I tell him that I will be calling the police to file a report because someone has forged my signature and stolen money from my bank account. Still, he denies it.

When the officer is just minutes from my front door, Son#3 says that since I don't believe him, he will just pay the money back to me. He says I'm blaming him for something he didn't do, but whatever. He will give me the money if that's so important to me. I am shocked.

When the police officer arrives, I explain what happened including the fact that I am fairly certain it is Son#3. The officer asks to speak to him .... privately. It is only a few minutes when Son#3 comes to find me and tell me that the officer wants to talk to me. I arrive and the policeman looks at Son#3 and says that he needs to tell me what happened. Son#3 then admits that he forged the check to pay for sex.

How can he look me in the eye and just flat out tell me that? This is a nightmare. 

What actually happened on this particular April afternoon was that Son#3 told his teacher that he had a doctor appointment at the time he should have been going to his work site. Instead, he came to our home to meet a prostitute. He found her using the escort service listings on backpage.com. He says another kid at school told him about the site and he could access it on the school computers in the library. So in a very short span of time, he found a prostitute, called her, scheduled a meeting and took her to my bedroom... 

When she arrived, she told him that her fee was $400 per hour. He didn't have that kind of money so he got one of my checkbooks from our home office and wrote a check to her. (I know her actual name and could look her up on Facebook. It was surreal.)

The police officer tells me that I can press charges but the amount of money makes this a class D felony. The likelihood of anything happening to the prostitute are slim. She can easily claim that she thought I wrote the check for him and provided it as a gift. (As if that would ever actually happen! What kind of mother does that?)

Then I go into policing mode. I begin to search his room. I discover that he has locked the toolbox he keeps in his room and I demand that he unlock it. He doesn't want to. Inside there are magazines and DVDs that Son#3 acquired at an adult bookstore. There are other items that he purchased at the same store ... some I can't even identify and just don't want to know what they are or how/why they are used. All of it is bagged up and hauled to the dump. 

Then I scrub myself in the shower, hoping to feel clean again. Unfortunately, this kind of filth doesn't just wash off. As I scrub, I go through things in my mind. When did he find the time to access this trash? Later he would explain that it was easy to get off of work early and head over to the bookstore whenever he wanted. Sneak it in using the book bag and lock it up where Mom can't get to it. Easy. I am still trying to figure out how this escalated so quickly. My children have no right to privacy at my house. I will randomly check through email accounts, text messages, Facebook, computer histories, room searches, etc. just to keep them on their toes. This couldn't have been happening for very long, I think. Until I discover how it all started. 

Son#3 is put on total restriction ... no cell phone, no computer access, no free time, etc. While his phone is in my possession, he gets a call from an 800 number and they leave a message. How did it all get started? His "friend" at school gave him a 1-800 sex line to call. I never suspected what those calls were because Son#3 is always calling different car part suppliers. They company is calling him because the debit card he used to pay his bill was no longer working and he owed them money. The call is free but the "entertainment" is not.

Just like the first time with Mister, I send Son#3 to see the bishop. The bishop tells me that he believes Son#3 has a serious porn addiction and then asks me for advice on how he can help Son#3. I'm supposed to have the answer? I don't know. I just don't know. I was already trying to climb out of this deep pit from Mister's sex addiction and now this. Why would anyone want my advice about how to help?

The small twinge in the back of my mind was that the week before when the seminary teacher asked us to write letters to our children, I felt impressed to share with Son#3 who he is and some of the gifts the Lord has given him. After I met with the bishop, this continued to come to my mind. He needs to understand who he is ... more now than ever before.

Several days later, a member of the stake Young Women's presidency asked me to prepare an activity and lead a discussion for Youth Conference. It was based on the talk "Our Identity and Our Destiny" by Elder Callister during BYU education week on August 14, 2012. I just started reading this talk and again I knew how to help Son#3.

Elder Callister starts by sharing: "In keeping with the theme of this week, I would like to discuss with you a vision of who we are and what we may become. At a recent training session for General Authorities, the question was asked: 'How can we help those struggling with pornography?' Elder Russell M. Nelson stood and replied, 'Teach them their identity and their purpose.' That answer resonated with me, not only as a response to that specific question but as an appropriate response to most of the challenges we face in life. And so today I speak of the true nature of our identity and a correct vision of our divine destiny."

How can we help Son#3? Help him understand who he is and why he is here.

D-day Multiplied

I've been married for 21 years and the "signs" that Mister had a problem started early. In the early years, I doubted myself a lot and Mister encouraged me to get past my "jealousy" and "suspicious nature." Looking back, there were so many incidents that it is almost laughable that I allowed myself to be manipulated into thinking I was the one with a problem.

Those first few years included lots of small d-days (my doubting days) things like hearing a former co-worker accuse him of sexual harassment and a teen baby-sitter who reported to the bishop that Mister offered her money in exchange for a sexual favor. Mister's strategy then was to call these females' integrity into question. It worked. It worked on me and on the bishop. I simply didn't want to believe these things could be true of my husband. It couldn't be true.

I spent a lot of time trying to fix my character flaws ... that jealousy, suspicious nature, and my control issues. I needed to respect and trust my husband more. Didn't I? Plus, life was busy with little ones to tend and all of the other demands of family life. I shouldn't let those stresses lead me to an overactive imagination. Right?

Then there were the undeniable D-days. These are Destructive days in my book. Others might have Disclosure days, but Mister never willingly disclosed to me so my Destructive days were traumatic. It didn't help that I had allowed myself to be manipulated into buying the excuses during the doubting days, choosing to doubt myself rather than believe the worst about my eternal companion.

WARNING: I am about to share significant details about my D-days. This may be triggering for other "Tender Wives."

D-day #1: October 2004
I was serving in the Relief Society as the second counselor. I am at Enrichment Meeting and the only member of the presidency there. In the middle of the evening I suddenly feel physically ill but cannot leave because I needed to finish the activity, clean up and lock the building. I was being responsible and fulfilling my calling. Mister was home tending our children (ages 13, 11, 9, 7 and 4). I would later discover that Mister has left them home alone without even telling them that he is leaving. When I finally arrive home, Mister is nowhere to be found and he doesn’t answer his cell phone. Son#1 is still awake, even though it is well past his bedtime. Son#1 tells me that he got a phone call from Mister telling him to get his brothers ready for bed and tucked in. I would later discover it was the last call Mister made from his phone before being taken into custody.

Mister confessed that he picked up and paid for the prostitute ($20 for oral sex) but said nothing actually happened before he was arrested. The arresting officer would later testify in court that both Mister and the prostitute had no pants on when the officer knocked on the car window and told them to get out. Who do you believe ... your husband or a complete stranger that could be mixing up the details? His attorney will so kindly advise Mister that next time he should not admit what happened to the officers because then it is harder for them to prove their case. I know this because Mister shared it with me. Ugh. Next time ... really?

It is incredibly embarrassing, considering Mister's arrest is listed in the police log in the local paper. Plus, several members of our ward are deputy sheriffs and they always look through the log to see who came into the jail the night before. One deputy is married to the Relief Society president. She calls the next day before it hits the papers after  her husband sees Mister's mug shot and reads the log. She tries to be supportive and I am mortified. I want to crawl into a hole and die. Now what? I feel like I have to call and tell my parents before someone else does. To my mom's credit, she never tries to tell me what to do. She doesn't push for answers, but only listens. In this moment I hate myself. All of the blame lands squarely on my shoulders ... I say to myself what I am sure others are thinking. I don't deserve any of it, but I won't realize that for several years because as awful as this is, it will get worse.

About this same time, I will begin to fear for my own life. I will suddenly test positive for high risk HPV after spending the last 13 years married to Mister and living in what I believed to be a completely monogamous relationship. There are cancerous changes on my cervix and I will go through many tests, procedures and surgeries to try to stay ahead of the curve.

Mister will "confess" to the Bishop at my demand. There will be disciplinary action but I am surprised that there is no counsel involved, only a probationary period under the Bishop's direction. I feel insignificant. Still, I trust that my Father in Heaven sees and knows all things and that justice will be served in the end.

Bishop encourages me to lay it all out to Mister. Tell him my expectations and set my boundaries. I am a wimp. I have no idea how to make him respect boundaries. I mean, he has already crossed the ultimate boundary by breaking sacred covenants. I cannot make him do anything. I feel powerless.

It is not my place to judge or to decide what happens to Mister. Plus, even the judge gives Mister a deferred sentence, allowing him to have this expunged from his record if he only pays a fine and successfully serves probation for one year. I am confident this is the end of Mister's issues. I focus on trying to be healthy and to create happy memories with my children. Life is too short.

D-day #2: May 2011
A picture of a naked woman is picture messaged to Mister from “Work Guy” which Mister received and saved on his phone. I discover the picture a month later and first Mister tried to tell me that it really is from his friend Guy at work. I use his phone to call the number and a woman answers. She tells me her name is Sally and that she works with Mister. He tells me that he had been trying to help her, that she is an LDS member from the neighboring ward and trying to come back to the church. She needs a friend and she sent the picture because she was just trying to thank Mister for his help. He tells me that she didn’t really know it was wrong since she was baptized just a little over a year before she moved here. He says that he was wrong to save the picture. I am lost. Will I ever be enough for him?

D-day #3: June 2011
Mister had been at work very late and he was sleeping upstairs. His cell phone kept ringing and as it stopped, I picked up the phone to turn it off. It was set to have the text messages open automatically when you opened the phone, so when I opened it to turn it off, a message appeared on the screen.

“That was a lot of fun. Can we do it again?”

The number is saved in his contacts only as “D.”

I reply, “Do what?”

Response, “Eating me out.”

I call the phone number using Mister’s phone and a woman answers, “Ready for more already? Where can we meet?”

I tell her, “Mister is my husband. I don’t suggest you meet. How do you know him?”

She claims that this is most embarrassing and that she has the wrong number. I wake Mister to confront him and show him the text messages. He first tells me that this is just a guy at work named Kurt who is pulling a prank on him. I tell him that I’ve already called and spoken to the woman on the line. Mister claims that must be Kurt’s girlfriend. He wants to “prove”  t to me and calls the number, yelling at Kurt that it isn’t funny and how I’m really upset so he needs to knock it off.

I can hear the woman telling him, “I’m so sorry. What do you want me to do?”

I tell Mister to put the phone on speaker, but he hangs up instead. When his phone rings minutes later, a man is now on the line saying, “Oh, Mister. I hear you’re in big trouble. How can I help you get out of this one with the wife?”

Mister screams at him that he needs to stop and quickly hangs up the phone and throws it across the room. I pick up the phone and scroll through to see many calls in the log from this woman’s phone number and a voicemail is still saved from June 18th when a woman with the same voice and from the same number is furious that Mister gave Kurt her number without asking her first.

How stupid do they all think I am? I don't believe any of this nonsense. Still, I have no idea how to make him change. Do all men behave this way? Mister tells me that my standards are too high and that no one could ever live up to them. Am I kidding myself? Is this actually the way all men behave?

Weeks later Mister tells me that he had been “sexting” with this woman that Kurt used to date, but that they never did anything physical and he didn’t really think it was wrong. I think there has to be something wrong with him for him to believe that this is acceptable behavior. He tells me that he just has an exceptionally high sex drive and I'm not satisfying it. Again, it comes back to me. This is my problem somehow.

D-day #4: July 2011
A text message came to his phone while we were on family vacation “What’s up sugar bear?” He insists that it must have been a wrong number but quickly heads to the gas station by himself to fill up on gas and clears the text and phone logs on his phone while he is gone. This seems minor in comparison to the past. Yet, there seems to be no reprieve. Every month there is something. What did I do to deserve this? He begs for understanding and swears that the sexting thing with Sally was the last of it. He doesn't want to lose me. I have to believe him. It's time for me to trust my husband and stop being so jealous, suspicious and controlling. (Notice a theme here?)

October 2012:
I find out that Mister has again been involved with a prostitute.

After Mister left early to pick up our Son#3 from work, a text message came to the “house” phone. (This phone was recently converted from our land line to a mobile phone, but has been our home phone number for 15 years or more.)

The first message, “"Hey babe, did you just drive by? I'm on the firescape."

I am in shock and a second message comes, “Come on babe. Come and pick me up. You know we have fun together.”

Bewildered, I respond via text, “Who is this?”

She replies, “This is Hanna. I’m in the alley behind StripClub.”

Knowing what kind of women hang out behind StripClub (the building across the street from my office), I reply, “How much?”

She texts back, “$20 for the usual or $45 for each of us to do a threesome again.”

I am sick to my stomach. I also know I will need more proof to prevent Mister from wiggling his way out of this one.

A couple of minutes pass and then she texts again, “Are you coming, Korey? I thought I saw your car drive by once already.”

I respond, “Which car?”

She sends, “It was silver this time, not the XXXXX. It’s a little chilly for the convertible, but I know your sexy dark hair and beard.”

I wait for Mister to come back home. In my experience, he will tell me that this is all a misunderstanding, a figment of my imagination. I take the “house” phone with me and drive by the alley. From a distance I can see that there is one woman sitting on the fire escape and another standing beside her. The one standing has a cell phone up to her ear when our “house” phone rings.

I answer and watch her mouth move as I get closer and both see and hear her say, “Oh, I must have the wrong number.”

I continue to drive a bit further so I don’t have to look at her. I ask, “Are you looking for Korey with the XXXXX?”

She says, “Yes, is he there?”

I tell her, “No. That is my husband. Keep your whore self away from my husband. Don’t call again… ever.” I hang up and drive home.

She sends one more text message, "He told me the 2 of you were getting divorced. I'm sincerely sorry. Deleting his number now. Please tell him not to call or text me either. Thanks."

As has been my experience, when confronted, Mister immediately denied any wrongdoing. He said that it must be some kind of mix-up. For me, the chances of someone being able to give a description of my husband (dark hair and beard) and connect him to a car that is fairly rare (XXXXX convertible) along with our home phone number are pretty slim. But, he knows that the evidence in the past has been sketchy enough to leave some doubt in my mind. He then challenges me to check the cell phone bill for her phone number. Conveniently, he cannot produce a bill.

I use the online billing detail to first turn on the call log and then search for the number. The first occurrence when her number appears is a call from Mister’s own phone line, not just the “house” phone. He continues to try to deny it at first. The phone log cannot lie and I can only see the numbers he calls, but the log indicates that he has called the number dozens of times in the last month. I can only imagine how many times she called him or that they had contact via text message.

Over a series of conversations, he tells me that he has been visiting this prostitute for 2 months (and later 3 months, then 4 months) and felt terribly guilty the first time they had sex but didn't think it was really that bad/wrong. He never shares specifics of those acts. He does tell me that she wouldn't stop calling and texting him, begging him to be with her again and he felt powerless to resist her.

He tells me that he thinks he is a sex addict and seeks help from a local psychologist. The psychologist refers him to a Sex Addicts Anonymous group and Mister begins working the program they offer while also telling me that he is working the LDS addiction recovery program and seeking guidance from the bishop. At the same time, when I ask for details or more information about his encounters with the prostitute(s), I am told that it is not time for him to tell me those things yet and it will harm his progress in the 12 step program or make him “act out” if he tries to share those things with me. He does tell me that the group has both women and men and that another member of the church is in the group too.

I tell Mister that I am very uncomfortable about him meeting with women, given his supposed addiction. He promises me that he will not be directly associating with the women, because they tend to keep to themselves. Obviously, I have a trust issue and I am concerned. However, between Christmas and New Year’s he slips up and talks about his interactions with “Steph” whom he immediately tries to tell me is a male “Stephan.” When I demand to see his text message log, I see that it is actually a Stephanie.

He says that he is only trying to "protect" me. He isn't doing anything wrong but he knows how I get so easily jealous and let my mind think the worst.

The content of his messages to her make me uncomfortable, telling her things like, “I feel safe with you and no one else.” I also discover from one of her messages that she was waiting for him “in a booth in the back” on the same date and time that Mister told me he was meeting the (male) group leader. Is this recovery?

January 2013:
I spent time in the temple contemplating what to share with the Stake President. Last week, unbeknownst to him, I read the "confession" Mister prepared for his sex addiction support group and was pierced to the heart to read more of his misconduct. It also somehow felt reassuring to see truths he never admitted to me, and know that I was not wrongfully assuming the worst.

The most hurtful part was reading that he had been unfaithful in 1998 when I was overcome with grief after we lost a baby at 17 weeks of pregnancy. I knew at that time that he wasn't emotionally supportive, but I had no idea about the extent of his choices then. (That was six years before his arrest which was the first time I had actual proof of his wrongdoings and the earliest act he has ever confessed to me. Every instance before then of questionable behavior or circumstantial evidence -- the condoms in his truck or lists of women's phone numbers in his wallet, for example -- was explained away enough that I simply doubted myself.)

I believe Mister's negative behavior toward me and our children stems from his inability to feel the Spirit and the power he has given Lucifer over him again and again... all because of Mister's own choices. Without the spirit's influence, it is easy for Mister to give way to his anger and mirror the abusive (emotional and physical) environment his own mother created for him.

I have seen glimpses of Mister's capacity to love his family and fellow man, his desire and ability to use his talents to help those around him, and his potential to be the man the Lord sent him here to be. I know it is a dark place it is to be unworthy to have the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost, and also that there is the potential for great joy from being worthy of that blessing once again after putting in the hard work to access the gift of the Atonement that makes repentance possible. I want that joy for Mister, but I know that he will have to want and work for it himself.

While the prideful person in me wants to see Mister held accountable for my wounded heart and his abuses of our family, I am also his wife who wants mercy for him because I know what excommunication means... even if he does not. I worry over the implication of my choices regarding our marriage on our sons and know that there is an impact on them, whether I stay in the marriage or if we eventually divorce. My goal is to minimize the negative consequences on them, regardless of what it means for me. I am just as concerned about the impact of Mister's choices and resultant consequences upon our sons. While they are not responsible for the sins of their father, they have not and will not go unscathed by them. I also know that as their mother it will continue to be my responsibility to protect them as much as possible, love them, lean on the Lord to dress their wounds, and help our children understand that through the Atonement those scars can disappear completely.

My prayers are with the disciplinary council as they meet with Mister on The Night Eternity Shook..