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.
30 July 2013
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.
24 July 2013
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...
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...
17 July 2013
Finding Peace
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.
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.
10 July 2013
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).
09 July 2013
Agency Abused
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
D-Day April 2013:
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.
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?
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.
07 July 2013
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..
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..
04 July 2013
The Night Eternity Shook
24 January 2013
I had known for about two weeks that my husband had been invited to participate in his own church disciplinary council. On 6 January the Stake President visited our ward and asked to meet with me. He met with Mister in December on a Sunday that I was ill and had stayed home. He was following up on the confession Mister made to our bishop and subsequent conversations that bishop had with both Mister and me. I was quite shaken by my meeting with President. He first told me that Mister’s misconduct has not yet reached the level requiring stake disciplinary action. I was shocked. I remember President explaining a little more detail and then saying, “The Lord is pretty lenient with us, huh?” In that second, I thought that we all hope for the Lord to be lenient and merciful with us. We also talked about my thoughts about leaving and divorcing Mister. President specifically told me that as my priesthood leader he didn’t believe it was time for me to leave Mister… yet. He encouraged me to focus on my mother role, to default to that responsibility since the marriage was a total disaster. We did talk some more about the difference between what I knew and what Mister confessed. President said that I had given him more to consider and he wanted to take some time to think about it.
The days that followed were difficult for me. I considered over and over again the possibility of me being prideful and wanting swift justice for my broken heart, without concern for the love and mercy that we all would want to be shown to us, which I should also want for my husband. I struggled with President’s council a bit, but I also could not deny the sense of relief and peace I felt as I let go of tasks like house hunting and trying to plan for an alternative future without my husband. Still, I didn’t fully understand how someone could persistently break sacred covenants and not have more consequences from the church in the matter. Again, I found myself working to let go of my pride and humble myself enough to see the bigger picture.
The following Sunday, 13 January the Bishop called me into his office for two reasons. One was to discuss my progress and answer any questions that I might have about this process. I told him how I’d spent the first portion of the week wrestling with my pride and really trying to humble myself, and then being quite surprised at the complete change of plans from President. We talked a little bit about how uncomfortable I felt writing this report, and I told him I was sorry that he also had to write such a report. Bishop said that it was okay; he does them all the time. (How sad.)
Then I told Bishop that the first time Mister had gone through the church discipline process, I really had stayed out of things, believing that it was between Mister, the Bishop, and the Lord. Bishop assured me that we are taught to do exactly that, but that we also need to speak up when we know something is going wrong in that process. I felt compelled to share with him then a piece of information that I had not shared after Mister’s arrest. I hadn’t told anyone else, but at the time of Mister’s arrest is when I was battling cancerous changes on my cervix and that after 13 years of marriage, I had suddenly tested positive for high-risk HPV. It was a detail I hadn’t shared with the previous Bishop because I thought I was supposed to stay out of things and I had no idea what Misterad not shared with the Bishop at that time. Bishop said it was an important detail because it was a confirmation of an action that Mister had not admitted. He asked if I wanted him to tell President about this when they talked on the phone. I told him I would put it in my report.
I ended up writing two segments of a report because it was so difficult. I made a start and then sent it to President asking if I was providing what he needed. (I had some concern about providing too much detail. I mean, how much evil did I want to expose President to? I certainly wished I didn't know that this evil even existed ... let alone being part of my husband's life.)
As they days crept closer to Mister's disciplinary council, I found myself researching to understand how the council worked and what to expect. I’m not sure why it helped to know this, but it did. Finally, the day arrived for the meeting to take place. I debated several times if I should tell Mister about the written reports. I did tell him that I’d been reading his journaling, which he wasn’t very happy about. I told him that he simply hadn’t earned the right to have me respect his privacy. He’d lied and deceived me far too often.
For me, the evening would be lined with mom’s taxi service as I shuttled our children back and forth to their activities. I was a little surprised that Mister had never asked me to attend the meeting with him. I was also shocked when he seemed so at ease with the idea that it didn’t matter what happened because he could always be re-baptized… as if that was going to be an easy process. It reminded me of Laman and Lemuel who, “knew not the dealings of that God who had created them” (1 Nephi 2:12).
I wasn't even there, but I could feel it. Mister was about 60 miles away but my heart was there in that building somehow. As the designated hour approached, I pled with the Lord to soften Mister's heart, to bless the priesthood holders on the disciplinary council, to help me heal the wounds of my children as well as my own, to bring peace and acceptance to my heart, to help me understand the impact no matter what the outcome... and my face dripped with tears as I felt the full force of pain and anguish that it had come to this moment.
I could hardly breathe and my body began to shake as I tried to imagine what his potential excommunication would mean... no more ordaining our sons, no more priesthood blessings, no going inside the temple before missions or for marriages, trying to explain why he no longer wears garments or never takes the sacrament or so many other things... and this was so tiny in comparison to the eternal impact on our entire family. I struggled to regain my composure as I embarked on another taxi run and began to sing some hymns and children’s songs to myself. I completely broke down as “Families Can Be Together Forever” came to my lips and I knew in that moment with certainty that Mister would be excommunicated before the evening was over. I had no idea how that would impact my own promised blessings, my sealing bonds with our children. But, I knew it meant certain darkness for my husband and that the path ahead was not going to be easy if he desired to return to the gospel path and be baptized once again. As my heart ached, tears flowed, and my body shook once again, the thought came to my mind that this was the night that eternity shook.
“And it came to pass that the God of heaven looked upon the residue of the people [the Noachians], and he wept; and Enoch bore record of it, saying: How is it that the heavens weep, and shed forth their tears as the rain upon the mountains?
“And Enoch said unto the Lord: How is it that thou canst weep, seeing thou art holy, and from all eternity and to all eternity?” (Moses 7:28–29).
“The Lord said unto Enoch: Behold these thy brethren; they are the workmanship of mine own hands, and I gave unto them their knowledge, in the day I created them; and in the Garden of Eden, gave I unto man his agency;
“And unto thy brethren have I said, and also given commandment, that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood” (Moses 7:32–33).
“Wherefore, for this shall the heavens weep, yea, and all the workmanship of mine hands.
“And it came to pass that the Lord spake unto Enoch, and told Enoch all the doings of the children of men; wherefore Enoch knew, and looked upon their wickedness, and their misery, and wept and stretched forth his arms, and his heart swelled wide as eternity; and his bowels yearned; and all eternity shook” (Moses 7:40–41).
“An absolutely supernal, marvelous insight! Our Father in Heaven is so tender even for his most mistaken children. Enoch began to rejoice when God told him of Jesus’ coming in the meridian of time and the Atonement. He rejoiced again when God told him of the great latter-day Restoration. Not always, but more than we know, when we are confronted in the human circumstance with the difference between what could be and what is, we do not weep alone!” (“The Pathway of Discipleship” by Elder Neal A. Maxwell of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, from a talk given at a Church Educational System fireside at BYU on 4 January 1998.)
I had known for about two weeks that my husband had been invited to participate in his own church disciplinary council. On 6 January the Stake President visited our ward and asked to meet with me. He met with Mister in December on a Sunday that I was ill and had stayed home. He was following up on the confession Mister made to our bishop and subsequent conversations that bishop had with both Mister and me. I was quite shaken by my meeting with President. He first told me that Mister’s misconduct has not yet reached the level requiring stake disciplinary action. I was shocked. I remember President explaining a little more detail and then saying, “The Lord is pretty lenient with us, huh?” In that second, I thought that we all hope for the Lord to be lenient and merciful with us. We also talked about my thoughts about leaving and divorcing Mister. President specifically told me that as my priesthood leader he didn’t believe it was time for me to leave Mister… yet. He encouraged me to focus on my mother role, to default to that responsibility since the marriage was a total disaster. We did talk some more about the difference between what I knew and what Mister confessed. President said that I had given him more to consider and he wanted to take some time to think about it.
The days that followed were difficult for me. I considered over and over again the possibility of me being prideful and wanting swift justice for my broken heart, without concern for the love and mercy that we all would want to be shown to us, which I should also want for my husband. I struggled with President’s council a bit, but I also could not deny the sense of relief and peace I felt as I let go of tasks like house hunting and trying to plan for an alternative future without my husband. Still, I didn’t fully understand how someone could persistently break sacred covenants and not have more consequences from the church in the matter. Again, I found myself working to let go of my pride and humble myself enough to see the bigger picture.
My first notice that something had changed was when I received a request from the stake president to write a detailed report regarding Mister's misconduct, via a forwarded message through our bishop. I was instructed to type out EVERYTHING I knew about Mister's misconduct and an estimate of when it occurred. I was also advised to be DETAILED and to do this report prayerfully. The report was to include at a minimum:
- How I caught him
- The conversations I had with Mister about it (details of what he confessed to me)
- The conversations with the prostitutes (details about what occurred)
- Mister's behavior toward me and the children (being specific)
The following Sunday, 13 January the Bishop called me into his office for two reasons. One was to discuss my progress and answer any questions that I might have about this process. I told him how I’d spent the first portion of the week wrestling with my pride and really trying to humble myself, and then being quite surprised at the complete change of plans from President. We talked a little bit about how uncomfortable I felt writing this report, and I told him I was sorry that he also had to write such a report. Bishop said that it was okay; he does them all the time. (How sad.)
Then I told Bishop that the first time Mister had gone through the church discipline process, I really had stayed out of things, believing that it was between Mister, the Bishop, and the Lord. Bishop assured me that we are taught to do exactly that, but that we also need to speak up when we know something is going wrong in that process. I felt compelled to share with him then a piece of information that I had not shared after Mister’s arrest. I hadn’t told anyone else, but at the time of Mister’s arrest is when I was battling cancerous changes on my cervix and that after 13 years of marriage, I had suddenly tested positive for high-risk HPV. It was a detail I hadn’t shared with the previous Bishop because I thought I was supposed to stay out of things and I had no idea what Misterad not shared with the Bishop at that time. Bishop said it was an important detail because it was a confirmation of an action that Mister had not admitted. He asked if I wanted him to tell President about this when they talked on the phone. I told him I would put it in my report.
I ended up writing two segments of a report because it was so difficult. I made a start and then sent it to President asking if I was providing what he needed. (I had some concern about providing too much detail. I mean, how much evil did I want to expose President to? I certainly wished I didn't know that this evil even existed ... let alone being part of my husband's life.)
As they days crept closer to Mister's disciplinary council, I found myself researching to understand how the council worked and what to expect. I’m not sure why it helped to know this, but it did. Finally, the day arrived for the meeting to take place. I debated several times if I should tell Mister about the written reports. I did tell him that I’d been reading his journaling, which he wasn’t very happy about. I told him that he simply hadn’t earned the right to have me respect his privacy. He’d lied and deceived me far too often.
For me, the evening would be lined with mom’s taxi service as I shuttled our children back and forth to their activities. I was a little surprised that Mister had never asked me to attend the meeting with him. I was also shocked when he seemed so at ease with the idea that it didn’t matter what happened because he could always be re-baptized… as if that was going to be an easy process. It reminded me of Laman and Lemuel who, “knew not the dealings of that God who had created them” (1 Nephi 2:12).
I wasn't even there, but I could feel it. Mister was about 60 miles away but my heart was there in that building somehow. As the designated hour approached, I pled with the Lord to soften Mister's heart, to bless the priesthood holders on the disciplinary council, to help me heal the wounds of my children as well as my own, to bring peace and acceptance to my heart, to help me understand the impact no matter what the outcome... and my face dripped with tears as I felt the full force of pain and anguish that it had come to this moment.
I could hardly breathe and my body began to shake as I tried to imagine what his potential excommunication would mean... no more ordaining our sons, no more priesthood blessings, no going inside the temple before missions or for marriages, trying to explain why he no longer wears garments or never takes the sacrament or so many other things... and this was so tiny in comparison to the eternal impact on our entire family. I struggled to regain my composure as I embarked on another taxi run and began to sing some hymns and children’s songs to myself. I completely broke down as “Families Can Be Together Forever” came to my lips and I knew in that moment with certainty that Mister would be excommunicated before the evening was over. I had no idea how that would impact my own promised blessings, my sealing bonds with our children. But, I knew it meant certain darkness for my husband and that the path ahead was not going to be easy if he desired to return to the gospel path and be baptized once again. As my heart ached, tears flowed, and my body shook once again, the thought came to my mind that this was the night that eternity shook.
“And it came to pass that the God of heaven looked upon the residue of the people [the Noachians], and he wept; and Enoch bore record of it, saying: How is it that the heavens weep, and shed forth their tears as the rain upon the mountains?
“And Enoch said unto the Lord: How is it that thou canst weep, seeing thou art holy, and from all eternity and to all eternity?” (Moses 7:28–29).
“The Lord said unto Enoch: Behold these thy brethren; they are the workmanship of mine own hands, and I gave unto them their knowledge, in the day I created them; and in the Garden of Eden, gave I unto man his agency;
“And unto thy brethren have I said, and also given commandment, that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood” (Moses 7:32–33).
“Wherefore, for this shall the heavens weep, yea, and all the workmanship of mine hands.
“And it came to pass that the Lord spake unto Enoch, and told Enoch all the doings of the children of men; wherefore Enoch knew, and looked upon their wickedness, and their misery, and wept and stretched forth his arms, and his heart swelled wide as eternity; and his bowels yearned; and all eternity shook” (Moses 7:40–41).
“An absolutely supernal, marvelous insight! Our Father in Heaven is so tender even for his most mistaken children. Enoch began to rejoice when God told him of Jesus’ coming in the meridian of time and the Atonement. He rejoiced again when God told him of the great latter-day Restoration. Not always, but more than we know, when we are confronted in the human circumstance with the difference between what could be and what is, we do not weep alone!” (“The Pathway of Discipleship” by Elder Neal A. Maxwell of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, from a talk given at a Church Educational System fireside at BYU on 4 January 1998.)
03 July 2013
Stepping into the Light
Here I am coming out of the darkness. I'm going to share my story and my recovery process right out loud.
I am an LDS woman whose husband is immersed in his sex addiction and whose son is engulfed in his pornography addiction. If you want to blame me for either of those things in any way, you'll have to get in line. I've had long conversations with myself where I wonder what I have done wrong, or what I should have done right to prevent or put a stop to all of this. In fact, it was fairly recently that I asked my own father to give me a blessing and at the end of it, he gave me a hug and told me that it wasn't my fault ... and it wasn't until that moment that he knew that it wasn't. (I couldn't blame him since that was my natural inclination ... blame myself. Blame the victim. Except that I don't want to play the victim.)
I have felt the Lord blessing me in so many ways as I have begun to work on me. I am beginning to accept that I cannot take away the agency of my husband or my son and that they have to make decisions about maintaining or relinquishing their addictions all on their own. (Notice I said beginning ... it's a hard lesson for me to learn.) One blessing was being introduced to the resources available from Rhyll Croshaw. Another was finding a forum of women in similar circumstances brave enough to share their stories. Then there was an article in the Ensign this month that speaks to this issue.
The author also references one of the scriptures I have pondered over for some time as I realized that the choices my loved ones have made are the same kinds of choices that have wounded the hearts of women for centuries.
Jacob 2:35, "[...] Ye have broken the hearts of your tender wives, and lost the confidence of your children, because of your bad examples before them; and the sobbings of their hearts ascend up to God against you. And because of the strictness of the word of God, which cometh down against you, many hearts died, pierced with deep wounds."
That is me. A broken hearted, tender wife. My journey begins...
I am an LDS woman whose husband is immersed in his sex addiction and whose son is engulfed in his pornography addiction. If you want to blame me for either of those things in any way, you'll have to get in line. I've had long conversations with myself where I wonder what I have done wrong, or what I should have done right to prevent or put a stop to all of this. In fact, it was fairly recently that I asked my own father to give me a blessing and at the end of it, he gave me a hug and told me that it wasn't my fault ... and it wasn't until that moment that he knew that it wasn't. (I couldn't blame him since that was my natural inclination ... blame myself. Blame the victim. Except that I don't want to play the victim.)
Who am I? Wife for 21 years, mother of 5 sons, college graduate with an advanced degree, and somehow this smart woman missed seeing her husband's sex addiction for many (possibly 22?) years. The short of things is that my husband has acted out with prostitutes, he was excommunicated from the church, and still has not fully disclosed his behaviors. I felt like I was just beginning to understand how to heal from these traumas as I connected with Rhyll Croshaw's book and website. Then our 18 year old cut class, forged a check from my account, and slept with a prostitute in my bed! Afterward, I discovered his porn addiction.
There are no words. I have gone from angry to feeling so stupid to just plain numb. I don't want any part of my husband's SAA group because it somehow feels like saying all of this is normal. I know that is irrational and unfair, but it still is how I feel. I also felt very alone until I discovered that I am not alone and that this battle with sex/pornography addiction and the subsequent trauma I have experienced is sadly not unique. Sigh. Its a lot to wrap your head around, not to mention what it does to your heart. But here I am... hoping to learn and heal and sort it all out.
I have felt the Lord blessing me in so many ways as I have begun to work on me. I am beginning to accept that I cannot take away the agency of my husband or my son and that they have to make decisions about maintaining or relinquishing their addictions all on their own. (Notice I said beginning ... it's a hard lesson for me to learn.) One blessing was being introduced to the resources available from Rhyll Croshaw. Another was finding a forum of women in similar circumstances brave enough to share their stories. Then there was an article in the Ensign this month that speaks to this issue.
The author also references one of the scriptures I have pondered over for some time as I realized that the choices my loved ones have made are the same kinds of choices that have wounded the hearts of women for centuries.
Jacob 2:35, "[...] Ye have broken the hearts of your tender wives, and lost the confidence of your children, because of your bad examples before them; and the sobbings of their hearts ascend up to God against you. And because of the strictness of the word of God, which cometh down against you, many hearts died, pierced with deep wounds."
That is me. A broken hearted, tender wife. My journey begins...
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