Moving On From a Bad Relationship

On my recent post Future of this Blog? I got a request from a reader to address the topic of how to move on from the end of a relationship, especially one that ended badly.  I’ve been thinking on that topic, and considering how to address it.  Honestly, I’m not sure that I’m the best one to give advice on this topic.  I have moved on from Chris (a.k.a. Mr. Mess), and I did it pretty quickly once we were separated.  However, that is mostly because I let things drag on far beyond the point where they should have.  I was able to move on emotionally once we were officially “over” because I didn’t let go and kick him out until I was already there.

I don’t really recommend that approach.  It put me through a lot of unnecessary turmoil and angst and emotional pain.  Holding on that long when I was so obviously being mistreated, lied to, and taken for granted is a hallmark of an unhealthy person.  Some people may argue that it shows love and devotion and strength of character.  Maybe at first.  However, I endured a lot of things that a healthier person would not have accepted.  A lot of things that I would never, ever advise anyone else to put up with.  I did it out of fear and a need for a “safety blanket,” even if said “safety” was actually harming me far worse than moving on would have.

Besides being degrading, that approach is also not possible in cases where the other person leaves you.  You may want to hold on, be willing to accept terrible treatment, and desperately want to “work on” things with someone who isn’t putting forth any effort and has no desire to change (like I was), but have that person walk away.  Or reject you.  Or leave you for someone else.  Either way, you might be looking for the unhealthy “safety blanket,” too, and have it denied, ripped away.  How do you move on then?

If I could do things differently or if I could give anyone else advice who is in a bad relationship it would be to love yourself.  Take care of yourself.  Find yourself.  Put the focus where it belongs – on you, not on him or her.  I think the key to really moving on is to realize what you deserve, find the things that make you happy, and pursue them.  Do some sort of physical activity, whether it be biking or hiking or walking or dancing – something to get your mind and body working together.  Laugh as often as possible.  Watch funny movies, listen to good music, surround yourself with family and friends and people who love you.

I will share something else that has worked for me.  It may or may not work for you, depending on what type of role model you have.  I try to think about my Mom.  What would she do in this situation?  What would she accept?  Would she allow someone to treat her like this, behave this way, etc.?  If not, I ask myself why I accept it.  Then I try not to anymore.  That last part requires the answer to the question that precedes it.  A lot of the time the answer has been that I don’t think I deserve better, or that I’m afraid that I won’t get better if I don’t accept what I’m given.  In order to really move on, I need to combat that voice and find a way to know that I deserve more than what that person and that bad relationship gave me.  If your Mom won’t work, think about a friend or sister or some other person you love and ask yourself if you think they should accept that kind of treatment.  Most likely, the answer is no.

How does that help you move on?  Knowing what you were given in a bad relationship wasn’t good enough makes it easier to walk away emotionally.  When you realize how little there was to mourn and how much better is out there, it becomes easier to accept that it’s over.  Not only to accept it, but to rejoice over it.  I now feel elated that things are done with my ex, and so excited to get the divorce papers back from the judge signed that I can barely wait.  My friends want me to have a divorce party.  I still haven’t planned one, but it sure does sound like a good idea.  I’m not just moving on, I’m dancing on the grave of this terrible relationship.

That’s what you should do, too.  Dance.  Laugh.  Love.  Rejoice.  Take time to pamper yourself, lick your wounds, and realize that you deserve more, you deserve better, and you deserve real love.  The kind of love that you would hope for your Mom or sister or best friend.  The kind of love that treats you well, makes you feel like the most important person in the world, and complements your happiness.  Note that I said “complements your happiness” and not “makes you happy.”   Only you can do that.  Find your happiness inside of you, nurture it, and watch it attract the kind of people who will support it and not leach it out of you.  That’s my advice on how to move on from a bad relationship.

And just because, here’s some musical inspiration:

“I’m Moving On”

I’ve dealt with my ghosts and I’ve faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I’ve found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I’m at peace with myself
I’ve been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long
I’m movin’ on

I’ve lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they’re always the same
They mean me no harm but it’s time that I face it
They’ll never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up where I don’t belong
I’m movin’ on

I’m movin’ on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there’s no guarantees, but I’m not alone
There comes a time in everyone’s life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days are gone

I sold what I could and packed what I couldn’t
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
I’ve loved like I should but lived like I shouldn’t
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I’m movin’ on

I’m movin’ on
I’m movin’ on

You call me up to tell me that you’re sorry
But sorry is as sorry does
You can call it what you want to
But damn it, don’t you dare call it love

You’ve got the nerve to ask me if I’m okay
Boy, give it a rest
‘Cause I’m good
And getting better at being my best

They say time can heal all wounds
Well, the sooner the better for me
‘Cause a heart at war damn sure
Will make you be all that you can be

You tore me down piece by piece
But believe me, there’s plenty of me left
Boy, I’m good
Getting better at being my best

I’ve been thrown a lot of curves in this ol’ world
But it’s only made me strong
I suggest you do what I’ve done
And make this call your last one and move on

No’s my final answer
Rest assured that I’m not after anything less
Boy, I’m good
Getting better at being my best

Oh, I’ve cried a river
But you don’t remember
Let me refresh your memory
One last time

Boy, I’m good
And getting better at being my best
Boy, I’m good
Getting better at being my best

Boy, I’m good
Oh, I’m getting better
I’m good
Getting better at being my best

Tackling My Body Issues

My body and I have had a love/hate relationship my entire life.  As a little girl I was super-skinny.  This was mostly because I was so, so active.  I was up with the sun (or before – if you ask my Mom), running around the yard, climbing trees, and exploring.  I participated in all sorts of sports from softball to gymnastics to my absolute favorite – horseback riding.  I remember when we moved to our house in the country how ecstatic I was to have 10 acres to run around on and horses in my own backyard.

I was home-schooled and an intelligent and efficient child, so I would get my lessons done (sometimes more than one day’s worth) in just a few hours.  The rest of the day and into the evening – when the sun began to droop and twilight set in – I was a fireball.  My brother, Dad and I started building a tree-house, which ended up being something more like a big platform in the trees.  I would visit that throughout the day and climb the neighboring trees to the very tippy-top, as far as I could go.  I would run through the woods to our back pasture, then through our second set of woods and sometimes gingerly slide between the strands of barbed-wire fence into the neighbor’s fields.

Sometimes I was alone.  Sometimes my brother or sister were with me.  More often than not it was just me and our family black lab.  The horses would sometimes engage with me curiously, but most of the time they ignored me like I was nothing more than one of the gnats flying around their ears.  I can’t even tell you now what I did with all of that time outside.  I know I picked wild blackberries, visited with our neighbors’ horses and dogs, and spent hours daydreaming or singing.

I also did acrobatics on our swing set.  We had one of those metal A-frame types that had different attachments, very similar to the one in the picture.  I used to hang upside down from the monkey-bar-type swing and walk along the top of the swing set like it was a balance beam.  I did the same thing with our acres of fence.  I had excellent balance and loved the challenge.

As an adolescent and teenager I stayed active, yet I slowly gained weight.  In high school I participated in a showchoir where we danced every single day, sometimes for an hour or more.  My body issues really kicked in around that time.  I was fairly insecure all through school because of the incessant bullying that I had to endure – for being the “new kid,” getting all A’s, having big glasses and braces, and being a geeky, awkward introvert.  Showchoir was my element, though.  I had one of the best voices, I was the dance captain, and it was a very diverse, accepting group of kids.  We had cheerleaders, the valedictorian, a few skaters, drama kids, a punk/goth girl, several of the popular, pretty girls – no kid in a wheelchair, though.  We were also more like the “Vocal Adrenaline” group on Glee than the misfit, ragtag group.  We won all sorts of competitions all across the country and were invited to an international choral experience in London.

Despite having a place to “belong” and being constantly activity, I felt fat.  My years as a catcher on my All-Stars softball team combined with years of horseback riding, dancing, and gymnastics left me with huge thighs.  They were also very powerful, but all my teenage eyes could see was their girth – muscle or fat didn’t really matter that much.  I remember being mortified of my junior size 7 jeans.  Now I would do almost anything to get back in them.  Back then I would stand with my arms crossed around my stomach, as if to camouflage what I thought of as a huge flaw.  I also was a slow grower in the “top” department, which made me feel inadequate and not pretty.  I’m now a D-cup, and wish they were smaller.

In my senior year I was dealing with a lot of drama.  Some of it was typical teenage-angst stuff, but mine also went beyond that.  I got it worse than most (though not as bad as some) because I was in a lesbian relationship in a small, conservative, ultra-religious town.  I lost my best friend after she ratted me out to my parents (who were so super-strict I couldn’t listen to anything but Christian music).  I was tortured at school, although I still was able to maintain at least a small level of plausible deniability since I was seen making out with a boy on our London chorus trip.  The concept of bisexuality was almost unheard of and certainly misunderstood in my town, which I was able to use somewhat to my advantage.

During that time my weight plummeted, in large part due to depression.  I was a size two and weighed barely over 100 pounds at that point.  I am 5’7″.  While that might sound like a reasonable (or even ideal) size to some, it was very unhealthy on me.  I was gaunt and sickly looking, and my clothes hung off of me in a very unattractive way.  My showchoir dress was taken in several sizes, which I thought was wonderful.

After graduation my weight swung in the other direction.  I was still depressed, but food was becoming more and more of a comfort.  I was also stuck at home in my parent’s house where I was miserable.  Although I had graduated high school already, I skipped 4th grade and was under 18.  My Dad was adamant that I had to live with them and under their rules until that time.  I was all but chained to my house – only allowed out to drive my brother and sister to school, attend church, and go to my job – where my parents were friends with the owner and knew my schedule.  By the time I turned 18 I probably weighed somewhere around 165.  Again, now I would love to go back there.

I moved out the day I turned 18…  Yep, the very day.  I left in the morning with a bunch of my stuff and didn’t come back until a few days later to get the rest.  Looking back now I know that I broke my Mom’s heart.  I wish I hadn’t, but at that point my Dad was making my life so miserable that I couldn’t stand to be around him for one minute longer than necessary.  Not too long after (maybe 2 months or so), I left on an amazing trip through Europe.  I visited 13 countries, and enjoyed the food in them all!

By the time I was in my 20s I was easily a size 18.  I started having to shop at Lane Bryant.  My weight was right up around 200.  I wasn’t happy with myself, but nothing I did seemed to work long-term.  I went on tons of diets and yo-yo’ed all over the place.  I would lose 20 pounds, then gain 10 or 15 back.  I tried pills, Weight Watchers, supplements, and just about every new “fad” diet that came out.  Nothing really stuck until my 7-year relationship crumbled.  Again, I spiralled into depression, and again it helped me lose weight.  I was down to a size 8-10 in just a few short months.

Fast forward a bit – I met my now-husband, settled into a comfortable relationship, and his Southern cooking quickly added on the pounds.  When we got engaged I managed to lose weight through the South Beach Diet (which my Mom uses very successfully) and Weight Watchers.  I was somewhere around 170-175 on my wedding day.  Then DDay happened.

Depression – again.  Only this time it was back to the food-as-comfort kind.  As much as Mr. Mess has always said that he loves my body and finds me very attractive, I couldn’t find it within myself to believe him.  His pornography and sex addiction coupled with his previous affair left me feeling worthless as a woman.  As a test showed in my post How Does His Sex Addiction Affect Me, my past experiences and his sex addiction still make me feel inferior and insecure.

Even after things got more stable at home the weight didn’t drop off.   My husband started culinary school and practiced all of his French, creme-based sauces and recipes at home.  He enjoys cooking for me and showing his love through acts of service (which is great since this is my secondary love language).  I also LOVE food, especially great food.  I was more than happy to drown my sorrows and accept his love offerings of creamy, buttery, fatty, smothered in cheese and deep fried creations.  The problem?  That just reinforced my self-esteem and body issues.  I can see now that I also allowed my need for control in other areas of my life (areas that I really have NO control over) to serve as a distraction and even excuse for my weight issues.

Not anymore.  I am taking control of my weight.  I am tackling my body issues – by becoming healthier and affirming myself every day.  I started a new diet two days ago.  This time it is with the help of a nutritionist and program.  I am going to learn more about my body, what works well, and how to eat right without sacrificing everything all of the time.

For now, though, I am in the hard part.  I have started a shake and juice cleanse using Isagenix products.  It has been brutal.  Yesterday and the day before I got one “real” meal, two barely tolerable shakes, and a few snacks.  The first day a Granny Smith Apple like the one above tasted like the most amazing thing I had ever put in my mouth and was the highlight of my day.  Today and tomorrow I am on a juice-only cleanse.  As of this morning I have already lost almost 7 pounds (6.9 to be exact).

I will be following that 11-day cleanse with a 40-day HCG diet program.  I am not getting my HCG online or through a company I know nothing about.  Instead, I will have a local support person who I will be working with twice per week to get any questions that I may have answered.  She is affiliated with a good doctor.  My husband and I have already looked up a lot of really tasty-sounding, low-calorie meals.  He will now be testing his ability to plan nutritious and appetizing meals that keep us foodies satisfied.

It will be hard.  But it should be rewarding.  They are guaranteeing that I will lose 20 pounds, and probably more like 30.  We shall see.  Either way, I’m taking the reigns of my weight.  I’m vowing to love my body and take care of myself.  I am getting healthy so that I can feel good – inside and out.  Already it’s been a step in the right direction.

“… But I Still Loved You”

Today I came across the most wonderfully well-written post from a wayward about what love is – and isn’t.  He addressed a line that I heard from my husband after his acting out and affair.  It’s the infamous “… but I still loved you.”  You can put anything you want in front of that “but” like: “I did the wrong thing,” “I screwed up,” “I know that I betrayed you, ” or even “I never thought about how this could hurt you.”  It’s something that I could never understand then – how can love go hand in hand with lies and broken trust?

The short answer is that it doesn’t!  Love is selfless.  It is giving.  It is putting another person before yourself.  That’s not what an affair is.  In fact, it’s the opposite.  Even though sex addiction played a part with my husband’s behavior, it doesn’t take away the selfishness of what he did.  It doesn’t take away the fact that he wasn’t considering my feelings or the ramifications that his actions would have on me.  That is why it is hard to reconcile the idea of him still “loving” me in the midst of his hurtful acts.  While I know that his addiction wasn’t about me, wasn’t aimed at me, and most of the time no thought of me entered his mind – I can’t help but think that if he really loved me during that time he would have considered me!

That’s why today when I read floridaredman’s post on Surviving Infidelity something just clicked.   I got his permission to post his comments here on my blog, so here is what he had to say:

How many of us WS’s have said this. “Even though I had the affair I still loved you, even in the midst of it”

To a BS they are wondering how could this be possible.  How could you say you loved me and still betray me?

The answer is the WS’s misconception of what love truly means.  Love does not seek to be selfish… on the contrary… it is quite selfless.  Loving who you are and being content with being you is a key factor to loving someone else.
If you do not love who you are and have no respect for yourself… then how can you truly give love to someone else?

An affair is a totally selfish act.  It’s Based on getting needs met that you feel your partner cannot or you will not let them meet.

True love for your partner will let you communicate this, EFFECTIVELY.  If you were to say to your spouse…” I feel my needs are not being met and I am on the cusp of having an affair to get them met” How do you think your spouse would respond?

A BS will look at all the avenues you could have taken before having an affair.  They would most likely believe that if you loved them you would have been more forceful in proving your point.

To go out and have an affair is no proof of any kind of love toward anyone.
Not even yourself.  It is a great show of disrespect toward everyone involved, including the AP.

It is a proverbial slap in the face to a BS for a WS to say, “But ..I still loved/love you”

The response could be…”Where was that love when you met your AP?” “Where was that love when you texted them all day and would only text me sporadically?”  “Where was that love when you were being intimate with them and giving me the cold shoulder?”

Even if you say… “I never wanted to leave you.” This becomes a selfish statement because what you are really saying is… I wanted to have both.
I wanted to have my AP for my fantasy and you for my domestic support.

Misconception comes in when you think love is only suppose to make you feel good all the time. Love can hurt. Love can hurt when you want your spouse to be one way and they are not. However the true love for them will help you overlook those faults while still communicating about them. Love does not give up, but it is willing to give in to a certain degree. I say to a certain degree because if you truly love who you are… you will know when to throw in the towel if the love you are giving is not respected.

If I took a gun and said… “I don’t want to hurt you.” Yet I unloaded the clip on you after I said it… the outcome shows my full intention.

Yes I said love can hurt, but not an intentional hurt. Having an an affair is not a mistake. It is a choice. A series of them. When you choose to have one… you are not choosing to love them… you are choosing to intentionally hurt them.

I thought about this for myself.  Did I love my wife when I chose to stray?

I can say that I had feelings for her, but the true love I should have had was overtaken by my own selfishness. Had I truly loved her at that time… I would have never ventured out.  I would have fought to communicate better.
I didn’t truly love myself. I really had no confidence in me. I really was insecure about me. So how could I give love that I didn’t have for myself to give?

When I found out my “why’s” and when I began doing the work… I found reasons to love myself.  In loving myself… I was able to truly love my wife.  Before I do anything to hurt her… I check myself because I don’t want to put her through any kind of pain intentionally.

I know a lot of people may not agree to this, but it was this type of thinking that led to my own self-awareness.

The thought came when I asked myself…

If you love someone… how can you give yourself to another? It is not to say that the love cannot be there somewhere… just needs to be resurrected and matured.

It is one of the reasons I came up with when your BS looks at you with unbelief when you say

“But…I still loved you”

When I read that I felt validated.  My husband has acknowledged some of those things before.  He has said that he was being completely selfish.  He has said that he sees now he should have reached out for help with his sex addiction.  He just never said it quite like that.

Some of that is so powerful to me that I just have to post it again.

“An affair is a totally selfish act.  It’s Based on getting needs met that you feel your partner cannot or you will not let them meet.”  Again, this was incredibly true for us.  He would not let me meet his needs.  He wouldn’t even express them to me.  How can I give him something he refused to let me even know about?  I guess I never could have – since I’m a real woman who actually cared about him, not some flat picture or video on a screen or a random, nothing whore in a chat room.

True love for your partner will let you communicate this, EFFECTIVELY.  If you were to say to your spouse… ‘I feel my needs are not being met and I am on the cusp of having an affair to get them met’ How do you think your spouse would respond?  A BS will look at all the avenues you could have taken before having an affair.”  Exactly!  True love involves being vulnerable and open, expressing yourself, and sharing with your partner.  It doesn’t involve hiding your feelings and going outside of your relationship for self-gratification.

“To go out and have an affair is no proof of any kind of love toward anyone. Not even yourself.  It is a great show of disrespect toward everyone involved, including the AP.”  Disrespect.  That is a great word.  That’s exactly what it was.  It certainly wasn’t love.  In our case my husband even openly admits that he had no respect for the OW in the least.

“Where was that love when you texted them all day and would only text me sporadically?”  Ouch!  That hit close to home!  That is almost exactly what was happening.  He would text the OW 60+ times a day and barely have 2 minutes to chat with me or send me a text during the day.  Sure sounds like love, right?

“I wanted to have both.  I wanted to have my AP for my fantasy and you for my domestic support.”  Very true…  He wanted to have his fantasy world and his real life girlfriend/wife to comfort him, support him, and take care of him.  Lucky me! 

“Misconception comes in when you think love is only suppose to make you feel good all the time.”  I want to comment on two things here.  First, this is a really deep concept that is hard for many to comprehend.  Secondly, to those who blame the BS for your affair because they weren’t doing everything possible to meet all of your needs, refer back to this statement.  Love isn’t about making you feel good all of the time.  It’s not even possible because real, true love entails real, messy emotions.  You have to love yourself.  You have to meet some of your own needs.  And if you need your spouse to do more, you should refer to the statement a few lines above because love entailing honest communication of those needs.  Remember, this is from the mouth of another WS – these are not my words even though I completely agree with them.

“Yes I said love can hurt, but not an intentional hurt. Having an an affair is not a mistake. It is a choice. A series of them. When you choose to have one… you are not choosing to love them… you are choosing to intentionally hurt them.” Amen.

“I thought about this for myself.  Did I love my wife when I chose to stray?  I can say that I had feelings for her, but the true love I should have had was overtaken by my own selfishness.  Had I truly loved her at that time… I would have never ventured out.  I would have fought to communicate better.”  This is something that my husband has realized in the last few months.  It’s one of the most profound thing in this entire post.  Read it a few more times.

I think the end part about having to truly love yourself before you can love someone else is borderline life-changing.  It is something that I need to work on as well.  I like myself.  I even like myself a whole lot most of the time.  Some days I love who I am.  I love how I feel.  There are days when I am harder on myself than I would be on anyone else that I love, though.  On those days it is hard to accept my husband’s love and love him fully in return.  On those days I am holding myself back.