I have been despondent about this, and suffering from anxiety the rest of the time. This is constantly on my mind, and it sucks. I feel awful and like I'm a failure as a mom.
Some background...I was married for 22 years and accidentally found out that my then-husband was cheating. I found the tip of the iceberg, and wouldn't uncover the full truth for at least 18 months later...and then when I THOUGHT I knew everything, I learned even more (about 9-12 months ago). This part is important...the day I found the tip of the iceberg, I was about 4 days post-surgery. It was a major surgery, and my body was on FIRE with pain. I was on rx narcotic painkillers, plus Xanax to relax my body (my muscles would painfully spasm due to a significant amount of tissue having been cut out of my body). I was in a narcotic fog ever since I woke up from that surgery. I couldn't take care of myself either. Needed help getting up out of bed. Showering. Making food. I wasn't allowed to drive for 6 weeks. I was pretty useless and was sleeping for 2 hours until the pain woke me up, awake for 2 hours while waiting until I could take pain medicine again. Repeat.
It's around day 4 post-surgery. I could barely tolerate food. My ex went to the grocery store to pick up Sprite, Jell-o, and pudding (the only foods I could tolerate). The usual...I texted him and asked for cherry Jell-o. He confirmed. He let me know that he was leaving the store soon, if I had any last minute requests. Nope. None. He headed home. A little while later, I was ready for him to help me back to bed for my 2 hour nap. I got some sleep and then needed his help getting out of bed. I rang the bell (a Switzerland souvenir) so he could hear me downstairs and that I needed his help. No answer. Tried again. No answer. I managed to get up myself (it took a while), headed downstairs, and saw him in the guest bathroom, throwing up into the toilet. WTF. I asked him what was wrong. Maybe he had food poisoning or a stomach bug. Through massively slurred words, he said he was drunk. We had no hard liquor in the house. Only some beer. It made no sense. He said he drank half a bottle of vodka. Not sure where he hid it. He was never a hard drinker. Just some beer on the weekend.
It was baffling. I sat down on my recouperating-from-surgery-chair that was easier for me to get in and out of. Was sitting there a bit while he was still getting sick. His phone kept dinging with text alerts. I yelled to him "someone is trying to get ahold of you!". His response was incoherent. I got up, picked up his phone from where it sat on the couch, and as I flipped it over, I saw a red heart emoji. The words next to it were "I wanna smooch". WTF. Maybe his brother is joking around or something. I brought the phone to him. Asked him to unlock it. In his drunken state, it took him a bit to type them all in. Long enough for me to see them each and memorize them. I thanked him, then went back out of the bathroom. Went into the laundry room right next to the bathroom. Shut the door. ....And then my heart dropped. He was messaging TWO different women. The messages were clearly NOT right. I was half out of it from the rx narcotic pain medicine. I didn't know WTF was going on. I wasn't sure if this was reality, or I was in some drug-induced half dream.
I took photos of the messages with my phone. I didn't know who to reach out to. I don't have a lot of people in my life. No close friends since I was too busy being a wife and mom for the last 22 years. I didn't have time for friendships. I needed someone to tell me if what I was seeing was a joke, or is this something real. What the h--ll am I looking at? I sent the photos to my ADULT daughter. She was in college at the time. She replied quickly and said "it looks like he's cheating on you, Mom. I'm so sorry :( ". I asked her if she could come home to be with me. She wasn't able to, and I let her know I understood. She was very concerned about me, and I know she was really disappointed in her father. I continued scrolling through his messages, and taking photos of it all with my phone.
The rest of that day was awful. Actually, incredibly terrible. I had to call 911 since he sobered up really quickly. He came out of the bathroom and demanded his phone back. He tried to pry it out of my hand, and then started grabbing me by the arm. He had NEVER put his hands on me before. With the type of surgery I was recuperating from, having someone violently pull at my arm and hand like that was causing me immediate pain (and that type of movement violated doctor's orders). I was being hurt physically by what he was doing. So I called 911 right there in front of him. I pulled away from him, ran through the laundry room and into the garage. Managed to get into my car (thankfully it wasn't locked). I locked myself in there. He started pounding on the window and yelled at me to give him back his phone. The dispatcher asked if that was him in the background. She could hear the window being pounded on, and him yelling at me to give him back his phone. At some point he finally went back in the house. It took maybe 3 minutes for officers to arrive. By then, he had gone back into the house and laid down in bed. He acted like he was taking a nap. The officers weren't fooled when they went in the house and found him there. They told me he was acting like they just woke him up (trying to play off that anything just happened), and they could tell he was "three sheets to the wind". The dispatch heard him yelling in the background and banging on the window, so they knew he was lying. The whole night was awful.
The officers made him leave the house (since I couldn't drive, or even pack up a bag / carry it, etc.). Since he was drunk, his sister in law had to come and pick him up. She is about 40 minutes away. Meanwhile he's out of the house for the night, and I'm left at home, analyzing the photos of all of those messages. (The officers gave him his phone back, which my ex promptly wiped of any evidence left on there.). That night was hell. The next day was hell...it felt like hell for at least a week, as the shock was just....it was awful. It's like in that instant when I saw those texts, the prior 22 years that I lived wasn't reality. What *I* experienced those 22 years was missing a huge chunk of what was *really* going on with him and me. It's hard to explain. It's like someone gaslights you and says "what you knew YESTERDAY as being the "history" of you as a couple for the past 22 years, it had this entire other set of events that you had NO IDEA were going on. NOW you are learning what reality really was...you need to fit years upon years of deceit into that history...and it will take you YEARS to uncover what he was up to for the past decade..." That night I uncovered those few texts, it truly was a tiny tip of the iceberg.
Since I couldn't leave the house that night (or even drive anywhere for the next 6 weeks), I was stuck. I had no friends. My closest relative was halfway across the country. I couldn't afford to go somewhere on my own (couldn't move out). I was truly stuck. That night I saw those texts...the physical pain my body was suffering from after the surgery was GONE. The emotional pain took over, and I literally didn't feel an ounce of that physical pain from the surgery. I didn't take another oxy for pain after that. The adrenaline or whatever caused my physical pain to vanish. I was crying all day and all night. Not able to sleep for 3 days except for an hour here and there (I counted it and got about 6 hours of sleep during that time. My body was truly running in a state of shock). I should add that when he came home that next morning, he and I talked (while his nosy-ass brother and his wife STOOD IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM AND LISTENED TO OUR ENTIRE CONVERSATION, so that HE was safe from me. I'm sure he spun it to his sister in law that night, that HE called the cops. (The cops were there when she left with him.) Before he and I even talked that day, his brother came in the house first and made me hand him my (then husband's) handgun, so that my (now-ex) was safe from me. Again, I can only imagine that he spun things as him being afraid for his safety. FFS, I couldn't even open a child-proof pill bottle, since my body had that little strength AND it caused me pain in my hands and arms to try to open it. And here his brother is afraid for my ex's safety? Like I'd be able to pull a trigger? I could hardly even lift the damn thing.
So anyway...I'm sure you get the point that things were awful. He and I agreed to "work through things and try to save the marriage". During that (eaves-dropped-on) talk, I told him that I assume he wants a divorce...otherwise why would he have cheated? I asked him how often this happened. When did it happen... He said it was "one time, a long time ago" (LMFAO, that is soooooo far from the truth). He said it didn't mean anything (hahahahahahaha...booo sheeeettt!!). Surviving the next few days was brutal. I didn't think I would survive it. I managed to get through a week. And then another week...all the while not sure I would survive this bomb that was dropped on me. During these early days, I asked him several different times to 'tell me everything....how long did this go on? Were there other women?", etc. Every time I asked a question, he minimized things. That whole "one time, a long time ago...", I found evidence that he had seen that woman just two weeks before I found those texts (just a few days before my surgery). His answers to me didn't line up with all of the texts and sh-t that I saw on his phone. Every time I caught him minimizing things (when I had evidence to prove he was lying), I would tell him to "cut the bulls-t. Tell me the f---ing truth." He would keep saying "that is everything. I've told you everything. I swear". At one point about 6 weeks after that really sh-tty night, he and I had a conversation with our daughter. She already knew he was cheating. We talked to her, and he said "things will be ok. Mom and I are working through things. It will all be alright".
He kept saying he had 'nothing to hide'. He encouraged me to check his email (he gave me his password). He gave me his passwords to any account that might have had evidence of what he did. He wasn't too smart to know that if I was able to get into his email (with the password he gave me *and encouraged me to check, since he wanted to prove he was being honest*, well....I was able to access his credit card account. His Expedia account. And other accounts. I found hotel bills, charges on his card, and a whole lot of stuff that uncovered even more lies that he was trying to hid. Over the next 18 months, I find that it was not "one time, a long time ago" with "only that woman". It was THREE YEARS with her, as recent as 2 weeks before that fateful night, AND another woman before that, for 2 years...AND another woman before that....AND just ~9-12 months ago, a woman came forward and said she was involved with him for about 9 months, going back a decade earlier. So yeah. That "one time, a long time ago" turned out to be multiple women, multiple years, and ongoing relationships with them. These women KNEW he was married. At least his most current side chick was married too (with kids, and her spouse didn't know). My ex proved that he would lie through his teeth and NEVER be truthful about the extent of the sh-t he did.
I ended up staying for a little less than 2 1/2 years. I wish I would have left him that night. But at the time, I was physically stuck for at least 6 weeks. With the truth being "drip fed" to me as I uncovered evidence (he never disclosed anything himself ... it was only when he was forced to admit to what I found and put right in front of him...literal receipts of what he did)...it took a good 18-24 months to realize I was going to keep finding evidence, and this was not a man that had any remorse, or with a desire to be completely honest. I told him one day "I can't trust a word that comes out of your mouth. I'm packing up my car, driving across the country, and staying with (my family member)". I have to admit that I wanted to leave him earlier. But the decision to throw in the towel on a marriage that I thought was "solid" for over 2 decades...I planned to grow old with him and spend the rest of my life with him. Having to face that reality that the future I dreamed of, it wasn't going to happen...and that killed me inside. I didn't have the emotional strength to sit down and talk to my daughter about me leaving her father. (Well, she was away at college and I couldn't talk face-to-face with her, but I couldn't even have a phone call with her, since I was too distraught after making this massive decision to leave him.)
I drove across the country. Started to settle in for a week or so. And around week two, I had a video call with my daughter. I told her that I was going to file for divorce. I told her the reason why. I had two options in that call. I could 1) tell her some BS story of him and I "not being right for each other", or "we are going our separate ways", or something else that *totally minimized the fact that he poured gasoline on our marriage, lit the match, tossed it in, and walked away without any accountability*. Or 2) I could tell her the truth, since I knew G-d d-mn well that he would never say anything even remotely close to the full truth. So I told her the truth. I said that he had cheated on me for a very long time, and that was contrary to what he told her during that conversation he and I had with her (when he said "it was a mistake one time, a long time ago"). I told her that I had photographic and text evidence of the length of his cheating, and the fact it was definitely more than one woman. I know she was shocked to hear that. She didn't have a clue during that 2 1/2 years that it was anything more than his BS lie of "one time, a long time ago".
After that call, I thought things were fine with me and my daughter. She then wrote a letter to me in 2022, and we had a video call to talk about it. In her letter she mentioned that she suffered from PTSD from being told about his infidelity. She said she felt like she couldn't say anything about how she was affected by our separation. She said she felt like I abandoned her by moving across the country, and that he was there to console her. It hurt to hear that, since she didn't say anything for 12-18 months about how she felt. She also didn't seem to realize that I had no where else to go, and I couldn't afford to get my own place (I stayed in that area with that family member for 9 months and saved up money to buy a really small place there. I never moved back to the same state where my ex and I had a home together). I thought that the call to discuss her letter cleared the air. But I was obviously wrong. She didn't express anything related to how she felt --- I thought that the letter and discussion 'cleared the air', but she actually continued to bury her feelings once again.
She and I had ongoing video calls after that call about the letter, up until last summer (2025). Everything seemed fine on the surface. She always seemed like she was doing alright. Busy with classes. Busy with work. Nothing too exciting for her to share. We went on a few vacations together, with the last one in spring 2025 to Hawaii. It was a $20,000 trip with an ocean front hotel room for a 10 day trip. First Class airline seats. Several excursions that I paid for. I really went all out with that trip, and it was not something I would ever have paid for before. I wanted it to be an amazing once-in-a-lifetime trip for both of us. That entire trip, I felt like she wanted to be with anyone but me. She was cold and icy. Hardly said anything. I don't think she said "thank you" for a single thing on that trip. When we got on the plane and sat in our seats, I looked at her and said "what do you think? Pretty cool! We get to lay down flat on the flight and will be comfy!" She said something like "they're ok". I could have taken anyone from my family on that trip, and they would have thought it was the best trip ever.
We get back home and it had been a few weeks. I sent her a message and said "I feel like I can't say or do anything right. I don't know what's going on". She replied that she wanted some "time away" from me. I replied and was shocked, saying I don't understand. She suggested that I work through that with some therapy (btw, I've been in therapy for years, thanks to the sh-t my ex did to me). After several months of not hearing from her, I reached out to my ex. Asked him if he knows what's going on. He said that he "knew (she) wanted space from (me) for a while now" (he meant even *before* that trip). HE knew before *I* knew, that she didn't want to talk to me. He said she also "wasn't talking to (him) much these days". Well, if she's talking to him AT ALL, that's much more than she's talking to me. The months passed by. It's been a full year now. I sent her a message last week and simply said that I wanted her to know that I've been thinking about her, and that I love her very much. I said that I don't expect her to reply. Just wanted her to know that I love her. Oh, and in October, then again in June, I asked him via text to PLEASE talk to her and encourage her to talk to me. I asked to take responsibility and tell her something like "please don't hold it against your mom that she told you want I did to her". He didn't reply to either message. He clearly doesn't give a sh-t about what he did. He's not trying to fix anything that he destroyed.
It's been an unbelievably painful year of not hearing from her. Having been cut out of her life makes me really feel like I spent all of those years raising her, caring for her, loving her...and in the end, she's talking to him and being in his life. He destroyed my life, but he gets our daughter. I spent decades being a faithful wife, working hard (he and I both worked full time), keeping a home (he never did any of the cleaning, housework, administrative, or emotional labor for the household). All of that ended up with me alone, without my daughter in my life. I'm also trying to heal from him going nuclear and ruining me, our family, and our future.
I don't know how I will survive this. The thought of knowing my daughter might never talk to me -- it makes me feel hopeless. I don't know how to live like this if she'll never talk to me again. I'm f--ing furious that he destroyed yet another thing (the relationship between his daughter and her mom). He ruined every f-ing thing, and left me with nothing.
I don't know what to do. My therapist recommends that I try to find my own "family". Make friends and connections with new people. I'm so introverted and it's hard for me to meet people. I did find a friend through Bumble Best Friends a while back, but it's sooooo hard to maintain those connections. I joined a biking group (bicycles, not motorcycles), and that was fun for a while. But it was close to 2 hours away from me (there were no other similar groups near me, and I couldn't do that drive every week). I just moved to a different area, and there are more people in my age range here. I'm still settling in and haven't found any groups or activities yet. But honestly....even after I settle in, I know it's hard to form deep friendships with people you can trust, and people that have your back. People you can lean on when you need someone to take you if you need surgery (I need a minor surgery next month, and ended up asking one of the sweet front desk ladies at the dog kennel to drive me there and back). Anyways...it's hard to form meaningful connections. Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm too introverted. Maybe at my age, most people are happily married and raising their kids (I had kids early in life, and a lot of people my age have middle - to high school aged kids now). I don't know. But I do know that even if I manage to find some friends, it still won't take away the pain of my daughter not being in my life.
