Jealousy, and what it really means

I have been officially single for a month now, and have been on a few dates with some fun and interesting women. That's all it has been, though - fun and interesting. I'm not looking for another wife, or even a girlfriend right now, because I have learned in the past few months how emotionally damaged I have been, and how much work I have to do on myself before I can bring another person back into my life.

After 18 years of wrapping my emotional world around a single woman, it has been hard to extricate myself from the expectation that she should care about me.

Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately) you don't get divorced from someone, you get divorced to someone, especially when children are involved. I am still very much a part of Marianne's life, as we are figuring out this co-parenting thing, and she has found joy in telling me about her dating life.

As I have been listening to her talk about all the guys she has been out with, how cute they are, how often she goes out, how she likes to flirt across the room with cute guys and ask her friends to hook her up, you know what comes up for me?

Oh, you know it -

Jealousy. The green eyed monster that reaches inside and squeezes me behind the sternum, while breathing hot in my face and filling my mind with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, what-ifs and why-nots.

Watching the woman I loved for nearly 18 years (yeah, we were high-school sweethearts), telling me with abandon about how she is falling in love with dating and these other men who shower her with attention and affection, I have felt a jealousy that borders on rage.

And you know what? I'm OK with that.

I'm still working on me - my emotional triggers and anchors, my reactions to situations that are no longer my concern, trying to figure out who and what I am, on my own, when I'm not being a doormat. I started out by trying to out-do her dating happiness with my own - who I was making friends with, how much fun I was having, the trips I was planning. Then I realized - I think she was in love with me for the last 18 years, too. She dedicated her life to me, at least for most of that time. If what I am telling her causes her to feel anything like what I am feeling, I don't want to be a part of that - because even though I can't emotion her, I sure can be an influence on the emotions she feels. I chose to start keeping my life a closed book when it comes to what I tell Marianne.

Dealing with jealousy gets to be a part of the work I am doing on myself. In the past month, I have been able to take a good, long look at the green-eyed monster, and how it shows up in my life - and then to look it in the eyes, and tell it that I know where it comes from, and that I know how to remove it.

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I have learned that jealousy shows up in 3 distinct ways in my life, and when I break it down to these three, it is a lot easier to identify and remove the emotion from the facts before I allow it to fester into depression or self-condemnation (still working on the not-lashing-out part of the equation). Here, I'm just touching a bit on what I have learned:

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1.) Longing - The feeling of "I want to be able to do what you do." 

       For me, this is the most positive of the three - watching a dancer, artist, cook, or craftsman, and having a yearning for the ability to spontaneously create like they do. Watching an athlete perform and wishing my body moved with the same effortless grace. It is a an expression of wanting to be better, to improve, to learn and master a new skill.

       When I feel this, I now take a deep look at what I want to create in my life - and then ask if what it is I feel a longing to do will fit into it.

       - Does it fit into my life vision to become a skilled and accomplished West Coast Swing Dancer?
         
            Yes, I think it does.

       - Does it fit into my life vision to become a professional base-jumper and travel the world parachuting from mountain tops?

           Well, um, no, actually...

       Asking myself a simple question intellectualizes the emotion, and helps to take away the judgement of the moment :

       "Will investing the time and money to create the same level of that skill/ability in myself fit into what I want to create in my life right now?" 

     If the answer is "Yes", then I start making a plan for how I am going to create that in my life.

     If the answer is "No" (and it often is), I let go of the longing, and allow myself to enjoy watching a master at their craft. I have several ways of doing this, having learned from many mentors over the years.

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2.) Envy - The feeling of "I want what you have."

      This one is a bit more touchy, and can more quickly transform into unhealthy habits in my life. It has included - "I want your car.", "I want your lifestyle.", "I want your sandwich.", " I want that bauble-thingy on your review mirror."

       It can easily turn from a simple desire for a thing or circumstance, and become an obsession to constantly be and have the same as, or more, or better than the next guy - and I would end up wasting a lot of time and money in the pursuit.

      I intellectualize this feeling, by applying almost the same question as the last one:

    "Will investing the time and money to bring that object/lifestyle into my life, fit into what I want to create in my life right now?" 

     If the answer is "Yes", then I look at my bank account and start making a plan for how I am going to bring object/circumstance into my life.

     If the answer is "No" (and it often is), I let go of the desire for that object/circumstance, and allow myself be happy for the person who has it. I have several ways of doing this, as well.

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3.) Inadequacy - The feeling of "Why didn't...", "If only...", "I wish...", "Not...enough"

     This is the biggest one for me - and the one that comes up most often when I think of Marianne these days. It usually manifests as a series of questions and statements that work together to convince that I am somehow lacking.

      "Why didn't she invest this much time and money into dating me, and keeping our marriage healthy?"
      
       "If only I wasn't a scumbag, and was able to regulate and handle my emotions in healthy ways, she would still love me."

       "I wish I was a better husband/father/man, because she obviously has had her eye on other men who are better than me. I guess I didn't measure up to the competition."

       "I was not good/kind/passionate enough for Marianne to want to keep me."

        These are only a few of the things that go through my head when I think about Marianne dating, and some of the most tame. I have run the gamut of self-loathing, doubt, shame, depression, anger, sadness  - all because of one belief that I held:

         < Marianne chose out of our marriage because I am an inadequate husband, and she wants 

         a better one. I am not worth the time or effort it would take to help me become the man she                    wanted, and it was easier to toss me aside and replace me. >

       Whether this belief is the truth or not is irrelevant - I have asked Marianne for months why she chose out, and she has yet to answer me. I decided to find my own meaning in what happened.

        With this one, I learned to ask myself a different kind of question:

        "Am I in control of whether or or not I am adequate for this person?" 

       And the answer?

       A resounding "NO!"

       I do not have control over whether Marianne feels that I am adequate, whether as a husband, a father, a dancer, a chef, or a kite-flying kazoo musician. I only have control over how I feel about myself, and how I show up and choose to behave.

      The bottom-line truth for me is this - Marianne made a choice, and that choice was to opt out of our marriage. Her choice was 100% her own, and based on her own reasoning. Whatever her reasons were, I know what it is inside me that I need to work on, and I am learning to see the good that I already embody.

       When I recognize that I am feeling jealousy that is based in my own feelings of inadequacy, when that green-eyed monster walks up and tells me, "You were never enough, and never will be. There are so many better men out there than you.", I am learning to look him right in the eye and say,

        "That isn't up to me. I am enough for me right now, and I am content with who and what I am becoming."

And I am learning to release the feelings of inadequacy, and choose to be grateful for the opportunity to once again look inside myself and do some more healing. It isn't a perfect process yet, but it's working for me as I learn and grow.

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        The ending of our marriage was not my choice, but it is what I now have the opportunity to learn and grow from. I have released a lot of beliefs and perceptions that I used to hold, beliefs that for years convinced me I was not a good husband, even while trying to be that good husband.

         Yes, for the first ten years of our marriage, I was a hot mess of a husband. I was a porn and sex addict, I lied, I cheated on Marianne, I lost job after job after job. Marianne stayed with me, and I believe it was out of love, and a belief in my ability to change.

        Four years ago, though, I chose completely into our marriage, and I started turning my life around, and I became a man that Marianne said she was proud of, and happy to be married to. It was a long, hard road for both of us, and I was convinced that we were on the high road to eternity together. I became a doting husband  - waking up early to make breakfast, staying up late to make sure the house was clean when Marianne woke up, studying her every desire so I could best provide for what she wanted and needed. I learned to see deeper into who she is, to love and appreciate her beyond how she looked, or what she did. I learned to simply stop and watch her, and be grateful for the wonderful woman that she is. I overlooked a lot of red flags in the past year, trying to maintain that feeling. In the end, it wasn't enough. 

        Now, our marriage is over. I am single again. I get to figure out how to create a life on my own, while still being entwined in the life of the woman who chose out of our marriage. I get to learn new lessons about myself, and grow into the man I want to be, instead of the man I am told I need to be. I'm finding my own path, and discovering the wonder it is to not really know what is coming next, and being willing to walk into it anyway.

I am learning to see myself as not only adequate, but as a genuinely good man, who will be a good husband again. some day. It has been hard, some days, to see it, but I have good friends who have helped me. I am growing. I am learning. I am opening myself up to, well, myself.


And so far, I am happy with the progress I am making.

More to the Story

For the past two years, Marianne's and my marriage has been a part of the public purview, as a shining example of what success in marriage looks like. Overcoming infidelity! Choosing into unconditional! Recognizing that the person with the problem, has the problem! Choosing love as our foundation, no matter the trials!

Coming together and building our marriage entity was an amazing journey, and it was a great story. We taught seminars, we posted videos and Facebook posts about our breakthroughs and our successes, crediting our mentors and friends who helped us get there, using our success to help build our own and others business. The success we had was real - we felt more connected and in love than we ever had before.

Until our marriage began to fall apart. Once we began to struggle, Marianne asked me not to post anything about it. She wanted us to work it out between ourselves, and then talk about it after we had figure things out.

Well, we did figure things out.

I realized that for all of the people who watched our amazing growth and healing over the past two years, have no idea what happened. They were told and taught that we were this power couple, who were living a 10/10 marriage, who could weather any adversity.

Then, suddenly, we are divorced, and they see my posts of hurting and loneliness, and wonder what the heck happened.

I have always done my best to post as I have seen things, from my own perspective, and recognizing that I have only a narrow view of the whole truth. Below is what I was feeling, and dealing with last night. If it comes across as accusatory or in any way defaming, I apologize. I am speaking what I experienced, what I saw in my life as our life together came to an end.

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It has been a week since our divorce was finalized, and today it really hit me hard.

Thinking about the nearly two decades we worked together to build a relationship, a family, a home.

All of the mistakes I made - the pornography, the lies, the infidelity. All of the pain I brought into Marianne’s life because of the baggage I brought into our marriage.

Four years ago, after cheating on Marianne, we both chose back into our marriage. We decided to start our marriage over. I completely cut ties to the other women, and to this day have never made contact again. I struggled to overcome the temptations and urges. I slipped, I made poor choices, I made mistakes, but overall it was an upward climb.

I got better. I became more patient, more loving, more service oriented. I listened to counselors, mentors, friends, bishops - I took their advice and I grew into a better man, a better husband. I listened to what Marianne wanted, and I did my best to provide for it. I sent her on trips with her girlfriends, with her tribe, by herself. Hawaii, Disneyland, Kenya - wherever she wanted to go, whatever she wanted to do, I said yes, because I wanted her to be happy, and I wanted to help provide that happiness, after all I had done to take it away.

I worked hard towards rebaptism, after being excommunicated for three years. It was painful, tortuous at times, and while Marianne supported me for much of it, there were times I had to endure a lot of her doubt and chastisement when I did not seem to be making progress. She had her own journey of healing she was on, so I endured it quietly, believing I deserved every bit, and more. I came to firmly believe that every problem in our marriage stemmed from me, and my infidelity. I had to prove to Marianne that I loved her, and needed to do it how she wanted me to, so she would recognize it as progress.

A year ago, I was rebaptized, and Marianne stood in front of the council and declared she had seen a mighty change in me, and that I was a different man. She was proud of who I was now, she loved me more than ever, and she looked forward to being my eternal companion.

That’s when life became busier - Marianne took on more responsibilities with her work, more opportunities, and so became increasingly more engrossed in her mentoring, and jewelry, and YouTube. She would spend more and more hours every week with her mentor, planning and creating together. When she was emotional, or we were struggling, she would rely on him for help and support before coming home to tell me all about it. They became so close that she was referred to as his “second wife”, and visitors at events often assumed they were married.

When she was worn out from work, she would go out for “Bro Nights”, where she and a group of guys would play video games until late into the night, while I stayed home with the kids. (It gets expensive to get babysitters, you know) She often told me that she felt more comfortable going out with guys to do "guy" stuff, like Spikeball or video games or shooting, and I would watch as she went and had a great time. I would join her on occasion, just to be able to have the time with her and see her happy.

She found a dance mentor, and would leave early in the morning, and spend hours every week, one on one with him, practicing, dreaming, dancing and sharing each other’s passion. I remember the light in her eyes, and the excitement in her demeanor as she described the new moves they were trying, the meditations they did, the intense, impromptu mentoring moments they would share.

I would support her. I would send her on her way with a hug and a kiss, because I wanted to let her find her happiness, even if it took her away from me. I wanted her to know that I supported her, and loved her enough to let her do what she needed to find happiness.

No matter how early she left, I would be up and have breakfast ready for her, even lunch if she was going to be gone all day. No matter how late she got home, I would be up, with her favorite hot Pero-mocha-ccino ready, and listen to her tell me about her day before she fell asleep and I closed up the house.

I would text her during the day, waiting anxiously, hoping she wasn’t doing anything too important and I would be able to hear from her.

This is how much of the year went. For a time, I was excited - I was newly rebaptized, our family was making more money, Marianne and I were still making a difference with our marriage mentoring. I was looking forward to regaining my temple blessings and the priesthood, and baptizing my daughter.We had some amazing moments, exciting trips together, some fun and intense moments of passion and connection.

And then, she would be off to her own world again.

And I started to realize how much I missed Marianne, even when she was home. I didn’t feel like I could express it, because how dare I feel lonely, after what I had done to her. She was my queen, and had stuck by me after I cheated on her. She had endured pain and suffering at my hand, and it was my job to do everything necessary to make her feel loved and appreciated again.

But I watched as she continued to have her emotional needs met by others. By other men. And she would come home, emotionally satiated, and rung out from a day of giving of herself, and I would be there to catch her. Intimacy between us began to consist of me holding her while she fell asleep - or me snuggling up to her sleeping body after laying with one of the kids until they fell asleep. Sexual intimacy became nearly non-existent, which seemed OK to me.  I had long before convinced myself it was unnecessary, mostly because Marianne had told me so often I wanted it too much.

The problem was, I wanted some of her, too. I wanted intimacy, and not just sex. I wanted to connect with her, as my wife and friend - and she often had already given so much to others, I got the leftovers, if there were any.

She started commenting that I was more distant, less diligent in my studies, less willing to take the lead in family prayer and scriptures - so I tried to change even more, so she would be happy. I knew why those things were happening, and I knew why SHE thought those things were happening. I felt I couldn't tell her the truth, that we weren't connecting anymore. I also didn't want her thinking that I was relapsing, so I gave more than I thought I had to be more of the man she wanted.

In the fall, I made a choice that I forever regret. I turned back to pornography to numb the pain I felt. From there, I sought out women online, looking for someone to be interested in me. Someone to talk to. Someone to listen, and validate me as a man. Unfortunately, things became sexual very quickly - though it was by no means exclusively sexual, we never actually met in person. We would email back and forth for most of the day, weaving our conversation through daily chores, schoolwork, kids, sex, the sex we could imagine having with each other, and back to schoolwork and chores. It was all equally exciting for me, for the simple fact that she wanted to be talking to me. She was interested, and engaged in me, and would reach out to talk. She wanted to connect with me, she wanted to be with me, and I felt a portion of me being filled and satisfied by the relationship in a way that was far more than just sex.

Eventually, I felt guilty, and confessed to Marianne. For the first time in our 18 years of knowing each other, I took the first step and told her, before she had the opportunity to find out.

She was convinced it was simply my sexual addiction acting up again, and would hear nothing else, no matter how I tried to explain.She said I was no different than I was before, that I hadn't changed at all. I was still the same sex addict, and she was tired of me not doing anything to change it. I was hurt and confused - hadn't we made the progress together? Hadn't she professed how much I had changed, and how happy she was with me?

But no, she had to be right. I was screwed up, and hadn't changed like I thought I had. I believed her when she said I was the same man I had always been. I believed that all the "progress" we had made was just a lie.

We spent four months in separation, when Marianne decided to end it. It was too much for her to take anymore, and she decided to walk away from me.

I told her I wanted to continue getting better. I wanted to get help, for both of us, for our marriage. I was willing to keep trying.

She said no. She was done. She wanted a man who would treat her like a queen, and take care of her, and not make her cry. She was finished trying to manage my emotions and my behavior, and wanted to set me free to do what she thought would make me happy.

We filed the paperwork ourselves, and I moved out, with no place to stay, no job, $100 cash, and a credit card with $200 on it. I slept in my car, a friend bought a hotel room for me one night, and then a kind family let me have a room in their home until I could find another place.

During this time, Marianne still relied on me to watch the kids while she ran her business activities, so I was back at the house often.

Now, I have found a job, a suitable place to live for a time, and have made new friends.

I don’t see my children often, because Marianne has expressed that I am not welcome at the house, unless she specifically asks for childcare, or otherwise invites me. She also has expressed distrust in the suitability of my new home, and doesn’t want the children visiting me here.

For a time, I was handling it well, but today it all came to a head.

I have held all of this inside, sharing it all with only one other person. I was ready to get it out.

A Good Man

I have been told before, and recently, that I am a “good man”. 

Friends have told me this, bishops, family, my ex-wife, my children. They have all told me I am a good man, a good person. 

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Today, I am reading through my old journals, and reliving the last couple of years of amazing growth and healing, and the past few months that led up to our divorce.

Through counseling, belief breakthrough, reiki healings, Psy-chi, and numerous other healing practices, I have come to believe that, yes, I am a good man. I am a good father. I was a good husband. 

I am good man to have as a friend, a confidante, and playmate. A good man to know when you need advice, or help with moving, or a good recipe for your upcoming potluck. 

It just that, I'm not good enough. 

Not good enough to be a husband you'd want to keep around forever. Not good enough to be able to maintain lasting, intimate relationships with the people I care about. And not good enough to keep from hurting the people I love. 

I am hurting today, because of the pain I have caused for so long. Pain to my ex-wife, my children, my family, and myself. I am in tears, curled up in a blanket on the floor because I have once again failed to be the kind of man my family needs. I have fought for years to make myself better, to be the man who can stand and fight on, and have once again come up short. 

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I know I am strong. I know I am good. I know I am capable, and have amazing potential to help and make a positive difference in the lives of others.

I don’t know if it’s enough. 

I don’t know for how long. 

I don’t know when my strength will give out, and I will fail for the last time. 

But because I AM a good man, I will get up once again. I will wipe my eyes, brush off the dirt and the blood, and keep moving forward. 

Who knows? 

Maybe, this time, it will be enough.