Today is the 6th anniversary of D Day for Mr. and P and I. Six years. Almost seems like an eternity ago.
When I come across pre-D Day pictures of him it’s like looking at a completely different person. Compared to how he looks now you can see he used to have a glaze over his eyes and a far away look, like he was detached from what was going on. That’s in stark contrast to how he looks now- a little older and a little heavier, but HERE. Enjoying his life. Appreciating everyone and everything in it. I no longer look at his old pics and feel heartbreak knowing everything in them was a lie. I look at them and think something more along the lines of pity mixed with “Wow, I’m glad that guy is gone.”
Since we’ve been working from home since March of 2020 we’ve had time to completely renovate our house. The house was 16 years old last year so it was due for an update anyway, and we also wanted to replace all the carpet with hard, water resistant materials because of a neurotic cat who likes to occasionally pee where he shouldn’t. It’s been hard work but we actually had fun doing it. The old Mr. P would have been kvetching and moaning and eye rolling about how Mean Mommy is making him do WORK on HER house (you can almost hear the toddler-ish foot stomp, can’t you?). He would have picked fights with me every chance he got. The new Mr. P is happy to do it because he’s improving OUR home and he cares about it and takes pride in it.
While we were renovating and changing the color scheme I started looking for artwork for the walls. I decided that finding something that I like, would coordinate, in the correct sizes was going to be impossible so I decided to buy some canvases and give acrylic painting a whirl myself. I’m into abstracts now and that whole MCM vibe so how hard could that be? I discovered that I really like painting. For inspiration I would look at area rugs with interesting patterns and paint those patterns, or would look at other artists’ work and think “I like this but wish the colors were different” and then I’d do my version in the colors I wanted. Before the pro artists scold me for that I have one thing to say: Relax. This is for my own house and I’m not selling them, so is the Art Police going to come to my house and arrest me? No. Now sit down. Hilma af Klint is no longer alive for me to commission her to recreate “The Ten Largest” in my requested colors so I have to make my own.
Below are some pics of our walls drowning in paintings.
Mr. P decided that it would be a good idea to convert our spare bedroom into an art room for me so I’d have my own creative space and he’s always encouraging me to paint more. The old Mr. P would have been jealous and had nothing nice to say about my work, even though secretly he would admire it. Right now I’m working on painting my artwork on new switch plate covers in the laundry room and kitchen. That will keep me busy for a while.
I’m a member of a few infidelity support pages on Facebook and I’ve stopped following them because at this point in my life they just drag me down. The Chump Lady support page is full of women who are downright nasty- not all of them, but about 20 percent, and that’s enough to make reading there an unpleasant experience. I rarely comment because I don’t feel like igniting a shitstorm but someone else posted a success story about how things are so much better now and you can guess what happened. Some of them were even saying that they don’t want to hear about any happy stories because it makes them feel bad about themselves. Oh…Jesus…H. Just because you had 23,876 D Days doesn’t mean your experience is universal. I also never bought into that “Once a cheater, always a cheater” trope either. Once a cheater, more likely than not to always be a cheater, but not ALWAYS. If they want to change, and they have the right help (which is sadly hard to come by) they can change. If they don’t want to change, well…you know the rest. The other betrayal groups were just as bad, but in the opposite direction. “He still loves the other woman. How do I save my marriage?” Well, you don’t save your marriage. HE has to want to save it. And I’d say that about 20 percent of the posters on those pages have no job, no job skills, no access to any joint accounts, no money and no family nearby. They have way bigger problems than their husbands’ wandering dicks. I finally decided that I didn’t need to surround myself with that on a daily basis. It’s too depressing.
As for those Notorious SIB’s (who I wrote about here: https://www.formersexaddict.com/single-post/2018/03/05/the-continuing-tale-of-the-notorious-sibs and here: https://www.formersexaddict.com/single-post/2017/01/17/infidelity-support-boards-abandon-hope-all-ye-who-enter-here )? Remember the one who told me back in 2016: “See you on your next D Day”? Well, guess what she had? Yup. Another D Day. I suppose some people, like Mr. P, would feel sorry for her. As for me? I say that people who create their own drama deserve their own karma. I had joined that site to talk to other people in a similar situation as mine, but what I found was a one-note echo chamber and I wasn’t singing their tune. I know Mrs. C-U-Next-Tuesday…oh, I’m sorry: C-U-On-Your-Next-D-Day” reads here so I’ll probably get some rambling, incoherent nasty gram in our email moderation once this goes up.
I know some people describe marriage after infidelity as the Japanese art of kintsugi which involves repairing something that’s broken with molten gold. This results in a bowl or a plate or a cup that once was whole but now is gold streaked so it's become something different from the original but still beautiful. I don’t really feel like our marriage is a kintsugi bowl. To me, it’s brand new bowl. And this one is way better. How we got here was horrific but looking back on it, I’m glad we’re here now.
As for Mr. P’s second grade teacher that we found? He tried calling once, but got no answer on either number I had for her- not even a voice mail that he could leave a message on. Before we went further we thought it might be a good idea to talk to a lawyer first because if she gives us the name of the mystery man (who I think has to be a clergy member) then we need her cooperation because she becomes not only a perpetrator but a witness as well. We found a very nice lawyer who actually communicates and calls you when he says he will (sort of), but after he discussed the case with his partners they decided not to take it on because 1) the teacher’s a layperson and not a priest and 2) we don’t know the identity of her partner in crime. So Mr. P called again today and got voicemail this time. He left a very non-confrontational message stating who he was, that he was looking for Mrs. X who was his 2nd grade teacher and he had a question for her and could she please call him back. Let’s see if she calls. If we reach out a couple of times and get nothing, I think it might be a good idea to hire a private investigator. If that turns into a dead end or we decide not to go that route or it’s just not worth the cost, then I think we might “out” her and post her name and show you her picture. It’s not defamation if it’s true. There’s a special place in hell for you Nancy!