The 52 Photos Prompt Begin at the Beginning was a topic that reminded me of the direction I’ve wanted to go on this blog, but haven’t had the level of mental energy that will be needed to go in that direction – to go back to the beginning – my beginning – and write about it.
Learning of infidelity in my marriage, which seems so general of a statement – the word infidelity sounds so clinical; the word betrayal sounds so dramatic; the word cheating sounds so simple –
Learning my husband had been cheating during my pregnancy (my first child and his), it was information that in many ways sent me back, emotionally, to a place of beginnnings.
It’s like – a string had been pulled in a big ball of yarn that I had defined as my life. The beginning is somewhere in there, but I don’t really want to face the level of entanglement and perseverance it will take to pull and keep pulling.
Three years later, I find myself needing to unravel and locate the beginning to explain – and to hopefully find better words and labels to articulate – how it really felt to find out I’d been living what I thought was a “normal” suburban married life when I was actually living a life tangled in lies – lies he told me and those I told myself.
The beginning is a place long before my marriage; a place where I began forming my inner opinions of myself and people around me; a place where I experienced childhood and adolescent firsts; a place where my parents’ view of the world became relevant to how I would (or would not) view mine.
The beginning, once I married and moved on to that stage of my life, is a place I thought had been a neutralized part of my life. I was an adult, married and stable, so how I felt about myself in the past was not relevant anymore.
But it was. It is.
And to understand and explain why infidelity hurt me, why it cut through me in the way that it did, I need to go back to the beginning and explain.