A Story Of Grace And Restoration: Despair (Part 2)
March 6, 2019
by Jennifer Moodie
"What if we could sleep with others, but it not be 'affairs'? What if we didn't have to go behind each other's back to have fun? What if we did it together? Then, I could see what I've been missing, and you could be with other guys?"
This proposal hit me like a ton of bricks. I was on the verge of an affair anyway, so it was actually almost a relief to hear him say that my sleeping with someone else wouldn't bother him. It actually made me happy in a twisted sort of way.
I had been in a state of despair. I loved my husband, but hated being his wife. I was weary of his emotional and verbal abuse, and I had a love/hate relationship with the bedroom. I wanted out but knew that divorce wasn't an option. I knew that if I left, it would bring shame on my family, and they would never permit me to remarry. getting outside help wasn't really an option as my husband didn't see the need. He thought that our problems were due to my being overly sensitive and emotional, and I just needed 'toughening up'. In fact, he explicitly said that he was mean to me on purpose to help thicken my skin. We didn't really have a pastor who I felt comfortable going to, and people whom I told my problems to were glad to listen, but offered no real advice nor did they tell me that this wasn't normal or healthy and that I had to get help. I was so scared of my husband and what he would do if I told someone who actually demanded change... So in my mind, at the age of 25, a bad marriage was better than no marriage. I was terrified of being alone and having to support myself and my now 1 1/2 year old child. I wanted to have an affair, but in my pride, I didn't want to be known as the reason for our marriage failing. I wanted people to know how my husband treated me, but no one seemed to think it was that big of a deal.
Then, my husband came up with this idea. He felt as if he had missed out having not slept around before me. I was the woman he wanted to be married to, and he didn't want that to change, but he had a 'type' and I wasn't it. He liked change and excitement. His suggestion was called an open marriage. This meant that we could sleep with other people with the other's knowledge and permission, while staying married and still sleeping with each other. At first I was heartbroken. Then, it seemed to make sense. I mean, it was my job to provide the sexual fulfillment he needed, and obviously I wasn't able to adequately do that... and since I had 'failed at my one job', this seemed the logical solution. I had been told to be sexually available to him any time he needed me, and I had been. I had done all he had ever asked of me. It wasn't sufficient. So in my twisted, hurt, confused, and depraved mind, this next step made sense to me- by allowing this, I was doing my job by providing sexual fulfillment in the way that he needed. And it wasn't 'so bad', because at least he wasn't sneaking around. At least I would know about it. So, I agreed.
I hoped against all hope that this would be my ticket out. I wished that he would find the woman that made him happy, and that he would leave me. I didn't want to break his heart by leaving, but if he left me, it would also incite the sympathy of my family, and maybe they wouldn't look at me as the bad guy and would finally, possibly, see the truth about him and our marriage. It was a sort of twisted answer to a very twisted prayer.
The next nine months were a depraved mess. I loved the attention I got from other men. I had come to believe that I was too unattractive for anyone to give me the time of day. Boy, was I wrong. I had my choice of men lining up to be with me, and they were all very complimentary. I finally felt desirable; worthy of attention. And I didn't have to be anything but myself because if one guy didn't like me, there were always more just waiting to be with me. During this time I developed what I thought was love for two of those men. They treated me with what I saw as respect. They told me how desirable I was, not just in my body but in who I was as a person. They were jealous of others being with me and said my husband didn't deserve me. I liked that feeling.
I didn't think my husband was jealous- he told me later that he was. He had told me he was surprised at the attention I was getting because he thought he would be the object of desire, yet during this time he couldn't find any women that wanted to be with him that made him feel the way I did. I was, on the other hand, having a hard time watching him woo other women. It made me despise him. I couldn't deny him my 'wifely duties', but I didn't want to be in the same room with him because all I could think about was how he was telling me he wanted me while also telling them the same thing. The love/hate desires I had for him quickly changed to more hate than love. I had flipped on a switch of apathy to deal with the emotions and trauma of our sin, and I was feeling less toward him. But I still didn't feel like I could leave. Guilt and shame held me captive.
We finally came to a place when he had said that he wanted to close our marriage because he didn't feel fulfilled with anyone but me. He felt dirty and hated what he had done to us. The Holy Spirit had been convicting him, and he had been quenching Him, but he finally came to the place where he just couldn't stifle the conviction any more. But when he told me that, I told him I wasn't stopping. I was not ready to go back to only him. This didn't turn out the way I wanted. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love me more, he was supposed to leave! So I told him I wasn't going to stop seeing other people. "Ok," he said. "I won't make you. But I'm here whenever you are ready."
I felt between a rock and a hard place. His reaction had taken me off guard. I was so used to him calling the shots that I was taken aback by the attitude of 'I'll wait for you'. I broke it off with the other men, albeit begrudgingly. But I was determined that I would leave. The 'freedom' that I had felt in those months was weirdly liberating, and I had seen that what I had thought about no one wanting me because I wasn't a virgin was not true. The fear of being alone the rest of my life had been unfounded. So I came to the conclusion that it was Christianity that was keeping me in a state of bondage to my husband. When he asked for a second chance, I gave it to him with the expectation in my heart that he would fail and I would be all the more justified for leaving. So I waited.
But he changed. He loved me in a way he hadn't loved me before. He was becoming more patient and tender with me. We had another child, and while I wasn't happy, I couldn't bring myself to leave for the sake of our children. I couldn't imagine them growing up without their daddy. But post partum depression quickly took hold. Pregnancy had been hard and he wasn't kind, but I didn't leave because I thought it was just my hormones making it seem worse than it was (which I believe is true), and I didn't want to be on my own with a newborn coming. Then after baby came, I determined to leave. But my husband was showing more signs of changing.... and so in my mind, the only way out was to die. I couldn't leave because no one would believe that it wasn't just me being overly emotional and selfish, but I couldn't stay because to be near him reminded me of all the pain I had experienced at his hand.
I just wanted to be free from the cage of my mind.
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