If you ever wonder why I do what I do, why I keep writing about infidelity long, long after it ceased to be relevant to my life, why I’m still mad about the “support” out there for chumps, and where the anger that fuels my snark comes from? It’s letters like this. This writer beautifully express the entire chump trajectory. I wanted to share it with you guys. Instead of just getting all misty and sniffly by myself. — Tracy
Some day, I will tell you how I gave birth to my baby girl 48 hours after finding disgusting sexts on my husband’s cell phone;
Some day, I will tell you about the “work” trips to Denver, Hawaii, New Zealand, and Las Vegas;
Some day, I will tell you how many days and nights I solo-parented my two-year old son while pregnant with my daughter, how we were up for four nights with the flu;
Some day, I will tell you about the Craigslist ads, and the Match.com account, and the conferences in Minneapolis and New Orleans;
Some day, I will tell you how much money I spent on relationship books on Amazon and private investigators, and how much time I spent reading his sick emails;
Some day, I will tell you about the random woman who ended up with my husband’s phone and became the first person to learn that my baby had a heartbeat;
Some day, I will tell you about the chocotini recipes my husband diligently researched for another woman while I was putting my toddler to bed;
Some day, I will tell you how scary it is to get STD tested while pregnant;
Some day, I will tell you about leaving my new baby at home every Wednesday night to go to marriage counseling;
Some day, I will tell you about the living room curtains that were way, way too long, and, of course, a legitimate reason for cheating on one’s wife;
Some day, I will tell you about a married man who doesn’t think to use condoms and tests positive for herpes;
Some day, I will tell you how many cans of spackle I used when my husband had sex with another woman while we were in marriage counseling;
Some day, I will tell you about the broken dishes, and the dry cleaning in the bathtub with spaghetti sauce, and the other evidence of my rage;
Some day, I will tell you how many times my mother-in-law insisted that “marital difficulties” were to blame for my baby’s STD exposure;
Some day, I will tell you how much time I spent finding just the right individual therapist and how hard I worked to make the counseling appointments convenient for my husband;
And some day, I may even tell you about having my baby girl tested for HIV and herpes.
But today, I will tell you how I filed for divorce;
How I read Chump Lady every day and recognized all of the patterns in the playbook
And finally understood that this goldfish would never knit me a sweater.
How I found my voice and redirected my energy;
And how good it felt to hand him the papers, a feeling I’ll never forget
— on my daughter’s first birthday.
I don’t know what my life will look like, but I am proud and excited to find out.