Most of us understand being high on hopium, lost in the Reconciliation Industrial Complex.
But a unicorn who polygraphed a Jesus-cheater-sex-addict? That’s some Pablo Escobar-level hopium.
And a RIC quack trying to make a buck off the “forgiveness”?
I really try not to feed unicorns to the Universal Bullshit Translator. They don’t go down as smoothly as Lebkuchen and there’s a saccharine aftertaste.
But the UBT made an exception for this one. An alert chump sent “Elizabeth’s Letter” found on RIC site Affair Recovery. The story of benevolent, long-suffering Elizabeth — held out as a model of what all chumps should aspire to. (#1 free resource!) Amnesia. Forgiveness. Wishing only the very best for the person who Did a Thing we can’t be super specific about.
I am a year and a half past the first of several D-days. My husband and I went to your EMS Weekend intensive, and it changed the course of our marriage and our recovery. I continued through the Harboring Hope program with an amazing Group Leader who helped so many of us through very tough times. We also did Married for Life by group conference calls with our small group of couples we met at EMS Weekend. We have continued with marriage counseling, and my husband just in the last few months has really committed to 12-Step work as a sex addict with the L.I.F.E. Recovery Group at church. He was unfaithful every year of our dating life and marriage which has spanned twenty years. The level of lies and deceit nearly broke me. However, thanks be to God, amazing counselors, and programs like yours I can say it has not broken me.
It has absolutely broken me. I am shilling for quacks.
I think the measure of a marriage is how much deceit you can stand before you crumple like a wet Kleenex.
My cheater hasn’t chosen me for two decades. Or a year-plus of pick-me dancing. But he’s coming around these last few months! All thanks to amazing Group Leader.™
We know we have a lot of work to do, but we aren’t giving up.
Pile on the lies! I will not break! I’m a human Jenga tower. Build that bullshit! You cannot topple me!
I just wanted to share with you that I was able to forgive my husband even after sitting through a full disclosure as well as the results of a polygraph test which revealed volumes of infidelity.
I just wanted to share with you that polygraphs make a marriage stronger.
Also: sodium pentathol.
What follows is my forgiveness letter to my husband of twenty years:
What follows is some top-shelf spackle.
I picture forgiveness like a thick, white gym rope.
The noose imagery is completely coincidental.
As I am holding it in my small hands, I know it’s long but I can’t see where it ends. I can tell it leads to something that holds the blame for all the wrongs I have suffered and all the hurt I have experienced.
Holding on to this rope represents a semblance of control, a need to find a logical conclusion that there is someone or something to blame for my pain.
Accountability is controlling. Thanks EMS Weekend Intensive™! Dear Leader says I must reject logic.
Letting go of the rope is like letting go of the need to find the source at fault for something so deeply wounding. It feels like I would be surrendering the need to find logical justification for my sadness and confusion. Without something to blame, the world simply doesn’t make sense. So, letting go of the rope (forgiving) makes the world erratic and scary.
Polyphonic waffles! Giggle biscuit gumption snorter. Abacus laughter mattress.
(The UBT has blown a gasket. This happens when too much bullshit gets trapped.)
Forgiveness means not thinking too clearly about the offense. What offense? I surrender.
In my quiet time of continual prayer, I have learned to do EMDR on myself as I fall in and out of rest.
I have learned to do marriage on myself, all by myself.
Because I come from faith, I asked the Lord to let me receive what He might want me to discern and wait faithfully as my heart and mind try to sift through conflicting thoughts. Today, He led me to an image of myself as a confused 5-year-old girl wanting to do everything I could to avoid my mother’s anger, to feel loved and feel a closeness to my father that I never had.
The Lord wants you to work on your FOO issues.
I pictured myself at that age holding this heavy white rope wishing I knew why I felt it was so important to hold even though I could not see where it ended. I saw myself in a gorgeous field filled with warm sunlight. I could see all my pain and sorrow but desperately desired to be in the field. I pictured God walking in the field, inviting me to join Him. But in order to join Him, I would have to let go of the rope that anchored me to some unknown destination. As my eyes were focused on the field, I saw you and all the confusion, despair, anger and sadness I have felt.
God wants me to reject logic. The very same God who gave me logic. This is illogical.
When I looked again, God revealed both of us as children holding hands in the sunlit field before the broken world tainted any part of who God meant for us to be. We were smiling – happy and innocent. I felt peace and contentment as the warmth of God’s love covered us.
Let us be innocent children again. Back in a time before hookers.
At that point, I knew I could let go of the rope. I understood that there really isn’t anyone or thing to blame.
There’s no one to blame! I just feel confusion, despair, anger and sadness because of a tainted world. You didn’t taint it! The world is just like that. The problem must be my feelings. I’m to blame for holding on to those… and this metaphorical rope.
The brokenness started at the beginning of time and has shaped generations before us. The only way to move forward is in faith, in forgiveness, and by holding His hand while surrendering our future to Him.
“I forgive you.”
You’re just part of a long cosmic strand of brokenness that has shaped generations! Should you fuck a hooker again, hey, cosmic strands. Whaddya gonna do? So I’m not entirely clear on what the EMS Weekend Intensive™ is going to accomplish given this predetermined outcome.
What’s that Dear Leader? Fork over $399 and surrender logic, there’s a unicorn waiting? In a gorgeous field filled with sunlight? He’s nibbling grass and never asks hard questions?
Sign me up.