“It must have been cold there in my shadow…”

Lyrics from the Bette Midler song, Wind Beneath My Wings, are written to reflect the reality those who support another are likely to experience in that role. We betrayed who chose and loved to played the role of supporter of our spouse were left particularly gobsmacked to learn that our unfaithful felt unloved by us.

What?

The lament of those who gave and gave in joy to uphold the life path of their spouse in attaining his aspirations and dreams. We, the unrecognized spouse in the shadows, did surely feel the chill on occasion or even often, as we toiled to make their life more manageable, their path a bit easier. We just put on a sweater and carried onward. Out of love, we showed our love through the thousand and one actions required to keep a household running, a dollar to be stretched and/or augmented through our own employment, and perhaps even those little extras we made happen to make our spouse feel special.

I remember loving to plan fun birthdays, saving for a dreamed vacation, planting bulbs and trimming bushes to make our yard pretty, cleaning the bathrooms before the weekend so we could spend more unfettered time together, cooking and baking for the enjoyment and health of all. None of these activities were required or even necessary. But they were given out of love. True love.

Not the stuff of show off or extravagance. Not anything that would earn accolades, awards or extra pay.

No.

In the shadow of my husband’s career, I basked in the glow of my self perpetuating joy in giving. It was not the sunshine of glory on my face. Not the warmth of trophies or raises. It was the calm satisfaction I got from watching my husband and children leave the house each day well fed and well supported. The wealth of travel undertaken with our kids experiencing Europe for the first time. The happiness no money can buy when I saw their faces in the glow of the birthday candles on the home baked and decorated cake at the table we sat around every evening for dinner.

All this was invisible to a spouse warped by the loneliness and abandonment of his childhood. Abuse at the hands of a situation his parents thought good for him, yet perceived as rejection by a little boy who couldn’t possibly understand why he was the only child sent away to boarding school. A boy who grew into a man full of resentment that morphed into entitlement.

Hurt people hurt people.

That hurt boy grew into a man who expected to make up for all the perceived deprivation of his childhood. No, he was entitled to more. More excitement, more food, more money, more sex, more support from the hands of the woman to whom he had promised himself . It was her role to give it all to him. What he could not do for himself or what was more difficult or boring to undertake, he relied upon me to accomplish.

And I fell for it. Hook line and sinker. I joyously gave with no awareness of his thought processes. No awareness he felt entitled to it all. Clueless he would do anything to fill in any gaps in perceived deficits in what one human being, me, could provide for him. After all, I was giving out of love. Blind, trusting love.

The perfect storm.

Over giver marries over taker. Over taker hides behind the mask of fun, good guy. The guy everyone loves because he is so endearing. The guy who participates in all the fun dinner parties and church events, wearing a smile. The guy who lavishes his wife with affectionate demonstrations of hand holding, arm around the waist and kisses at the cheek. Nearly flawless image management.

Imagine their chagrin and disbelief when they heard about his overspending and philandering—all disguised while on business trips where no-one could see.

Imagine the utter destruction of my history when he glibly told me of his 27 year affair. The shock so severe it produced reactions of those who suffer trauma in wartime, or famine, or natural disaster. The most personal attack by the person least believed as likely to do the damage.

Plunged into the frigid shadow or his manipulations and deception. This time no joy in the realization I’d provided such loving support. This time in full realization I’d been played the fool by supporting his ability to carry out his betrayals. Unknowingly, unwittingly, unaware me. Shattered on the rocks of a betrayal so profound it was never imagined.

Now I live in the shadow of trauma. The very real manifestations of betrayal trauma have haunted my life for the past five years. The shadow of his financial betrayal for eight, and for the foreseeable future as we pay off the deep indebtedness of his foolish and hidden overspending.

I will never be the same. I can never again fully trust that he will not choose himself first, let alone revel in the warmth of a devoted spouse. I will never have a long term faithful marriage where I was cherished, protected and valued above all.

There is a lot to grieve.

When I think I’ve done enough and wept enough and suffered enough, there is a new wave of memory or a new trigger in present day reflecting the shadows of the past. I must forgive and forgive and forgive each and every cost—to maintain my sanity. To enable me to experience all that is truly good in the world. To free myself to be grateful for much and many.

I will live the rest of my life in the shadow of this most profound of life traumas. It will never be forgotten, never be just a bad dream, never stop washing up on the beach of my days or in my sleep. It is a permanent feature of me and my history. That makes it a permanent part of my present and future. I can never have a better past. I can never have a free and clear present or future. One in which I am the grateful recipient of a lifelong faithful marriage.

So I am left with no choice but to move on as best I can. My choice. I now have agency over my own life and choices. I live as a free woman. Freed from the bondage of manipulations and lies. It is a breath of fresh air. It is a kind of freedom one can not experience as deeply if she had not known the bondage of living inside a spouse’s lies. I am free.

A freedom I never imagined or asked for. A world reality I never wanted or chose. But a reality that can be as good as I choose to see it. And I choose to give freely, deeply and in love. I choose to support those with whom I come in contact, those who live under my roof or whom I seek out to spend time.

I choose to love.