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adjective

made in imitation so as to be passed off fraudulently or deceptively as genuine; not genuine; forged, pretended, unreal.

noun

an imitation intended to be passed off fraudulently or deceptively as genuine; forgery.

Is my marriage an imitation? Is a person who has lived under the belief that their spouse is faithful and operates in their best interest living a counterfeit life?

I grapple with this concept—this reality.

While it is paramountly unfair to control another person’s reality through deceptions and lies–it is real. It did happen. I was betrayed hundreds and thousands of times over the twenty seven years my unfaithful spouse partook in feeding his bottomless need for praise and affirmation and control (even if that praise and affirmation was also false–offered by another person who would sell their soul to get the same counterfeit affirmation in return.)

I was living in a relationship that was being controlled by my unfaithful spouse. I could have caught an STD at any time from him. The reality of his betrayals could have been discovered at any moment, shattering my heart and my children’s world. (But that is what made it so exciting and forbidden for him—sick) He could have lost his commission in the armed forces and his retirement pay through court-martial. He could have been prosecuted for embezzlement. All could have’s. All should haves. All, through pure dumb luck, did not come to fruition.

The news has been full of talk of accountability as of late. Should the person who abused his power be held to task? Should he lose his ability to ever run for office again? Should he lose his retirement benefits?

Our human justice system is inherently flawed. No human being can know the heart of another or the flawed, distorted thinking that led them to choose destructive actions. When we judge we always run the risk of judging inaccurately.

Does that mean we should excuse the inflicted wounds of others if they cause life altering damage, even death? What is appropriate accountability? How does a perpetrator repair unrepairable damage? He can not bring back the dead. He can not restore years lost to deception. He can not restore the human rights to self determination lost through those years. Some choices are unrepairable.

So how do we limited and flawed human beings hold another limited and flawed human being to account?

In my experience, it is an imperfect and incomplete undertaking. That does not mean it should not be undertaken. Damage that will effect the victim’s life for the rest of their life demands equal reparation. An adulterer owes a lifelong debt to their victim(s) as there is no way to restore them to their pre-perpetration selves.

I will always have triggers–reminders that I was used like a disposable tool in dozens of ways–for years. He can never fully repay me—not monetarily, not emotionally, not spiritually, not physically. I am an altered human being—damaged, scarred for life. I can not un-remember or unknown how I was intentionally put at mortal risk and my supportive trust used in my own wounding. There is no way for a human being to repay such atrocity.

So where does that leave me?

Bitter… or

Compassion.

Grace.

Walking the hard road toward forgiveness. Learning to remind myself with each trigger, each reminder, each metaphorical gut punch, that this damage was forced upon me by a severely damaged person.

“Don’t allow an old wound to close your heart.”

My wounds will heal. They will leave scars. Lifelong scars. I will never be able to look upon my marriage as mutual. I will always remember I was betrayed in thousands of ways that are bound to come up in the normal course of my life in the form of triggers/reminders. And it is my imperfect, unreachable job to forgive each and every one as they happen.

Forgiveness is not a one time event. It is a day in, day out, hourly, sometimes minute by minute choice to remind myself that the wounds I have suffered were inflicted by a damaged, broken person. Another human being who needs compassion—like every human being does. We all need to be treated with compassionate kindness. As imperfect persons who inflict our own damage, we need compassion if we are ever to be able to improve ourselves. To have space to do better. The human right to grow—to live.

So yes–my marriage was counterfeit from the moment my unfaithful spouse crossed the line–onwards. The contract was broken irregardless of my ignorance of the breech. And that is also my job to grieve. It is supremely unfair. It is reality.