I can't remember a time that my fch apologized before dday, either. He was never wrong. It was always me.
Husband was never, ever wrong.
I simply misunderstood.
I lacked understanding and/or comprehension.
If my didactic facilities were up to par, this situation wouldn't exist.
One of the biggest, deepest injuries post DDay2 (same incident, years later) was realizing that Husband had intentionally and actively and deliberately leveraged "trust" on me: he had insisted on, cashed in on, exploited this specific type and level of trust by insisting that he wasn't doing anything wrong with other women. Which, factually, may have been true in subsequent situations. I can choose to believe that, or not.
Even while he was acting out in ways that would (and did) cause any sane wife (person) to question what the hell was happening, hours after every public watering hole and club venue had long closed?
OK, in those specific episodes, he may not have been pushing those limits, nor outright busting through them. There is plenty to be said for that, and it very well may have been true. But, here's the thing: he'd already busted right through those boundaries. He'd already done the deed- and yet it was on me to believe his subsequent insistence that "nothing had happened" in situations that were clearly questionable.
And he knew that. He knew it. He knew what he'd already done. I did not. I did not have the full truth.
In substantial ways, this is the crux of what makes him a cheater.
I sorta, kinda, got it then- that *something* had happened, and that I sorta, kinda, understood it, but I also knew then that I really didn't. And in that space, on behalf of my marriage and of my children, I got my arm twisted. I let it happen. Rug sweeping.
Years later, finding out that he'd already cheated, and then spent several more years acting out and arm twisting me to believe that nothing untoward was happening *this* time...
(which may have been absolutely true, but I'll never know, he introduced a whole other layer of doubt through immature and irresponsible choices)
... yeah, there's a trauma and a sack of knives full of doubts and questions all its own.
How exactly do I "reclaim my power" at this late date, in this situation?
Hell if I know.