Brave Enough To Be Bliss

“Ginger, what do you want to eat?” I don’t care , I would say. “Do you have time to get this done for me, Ginger?” Sure , I would say. “Ginger, do you want to meet for coffee next week?” I’d be delighted , I would say.

And these were just the routine questions, ask me anything more personal than that and you were sure to get the answer I thought you would want to hear. It didn’t even feel like lying. I’d been doing it my whole life. But I think that made living a lie wit h him easier because lying wasn’t anything foreign to me. I just lived trying to please everyone else, trying to do whatever I thought was expected or desired of me. My feelings didn’t matter. I had always felt that doing or saying or being whatever would make everyone else happy was the only way to stay out of trouble and have any possibility of maybe being loved. Like most secrets, though, mine eventually came out. When his wife called me as I entered Target one day, I didn’t hesitate to answer , knowing it was the right thing to do. She said all the things she had every right to say. I apologized and told her the feelings weren’t reciprocated by him and it was all my fault. She ended the call with words I’ll never forget that included forgiveness. They were confusing, condemning and yet kind. Her choice to respond to me as she did is an example of humanity. Even if it was only in that moment, in the midst of the pain she didn’t cause or deserve, it appeared she chose to see me as a human being. I have absolutely no idea if that’s what she intended or not, but that’s how it came across to me and I have been grateful to her for that and have, in turn, tried to show others the same type of grace and compassion she showed me that day. My sincere hope is that she didn’t carry the pain I helped cause into her future, but rather that she healed from it. Many people reading this part of my story will vilify me because they have felt the same type of pain we caused her. I vilified myself. I deservedly carried around the guilt and shame for many years, but that day, she gave herself the opportunity for peace when she said she forgave me. No matter what offense has happened to us, when we vilify and judge others, when we fail to see them as the flawed human beings we all are, there’s a greater chance we will remain stuck in that pain. And when we don’t heal, that is when we carry and often pass along more pain and that is what can ruin lives. Unfortunately, I cannot go back and undo any of the pain we caused her, any more than others can go back and undo the pain they caused me. My hope is that she was so much smarter than we were and she knew our behavior was not about her or my husband or anyone else, it was about each of us not having dealt with and healed from our own painful pasts. I could have written this book and left this part out and very few people would have ever known. I could have given in to fear of what other people would think of me, how they would judge me, how I could possibly cause more pain to those we hurt by bringing it up. And I assure you I considered giving in to those fears many, many times. But instead, I have risked all that and chosen to share this painful experience, hoping to bring some small piece of good from it for someone else. I see hurting humans every day still living with deep anger and resentment, years or even decades after being hurt by infidelity. I see them unintentionally behaving in ways that bring terrible pain to their children by hating the other parent. They are so caught up in their own pain, they simply cannot see the impact of what they are carrying forward. They were hurt and they have not healed, so they in turn are hurting others. What was done to them wasn’t their fault, they didn’t deserve it, but unfortunately, they are the only ones who can heal from it. It isn’t right, it isn’t fair, it’s just life. And life…is…hard. So very hard. “If you have made mistakes, even serious ones, there is always another chance for you. What we call failure is not the falling down, but the staying down.” Mary Pickford

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