A Guide for Husbands
Often I hear something like, “I told you I was sorry about the affair ten times so let’s drop it already.” That won’t cut it. High-stakes situations call for an apology that’s a long-distance run where we open our heart and listen to the feelings of the hurt party on more than one occasion. There’s no greater gift, or one more difficult to offer, than the gift of wholehearted listening to that kind of anger and pain when we are being accused of causing it. — Harriet Lerner
Okay, husbands, this one’s for you.
Most of you likely didn’t respond to your wife’s pain around your betrayal the way renowned relationship expert Harriet Lerner suggests, above. If you’re like most guys, you said you were sorry, promised it would never happen again, it meant nothing for chrissakes, can we drop it already? And then you really really hoped that she would forgive you, you’d have makeup sex and then move forward into the rest of your lives. She might even be a little bit more appreciative of you now that she knew you had other options, right?
If you were a bit more realistic than that, you figured you’d go to a marriage counselor a half-dozen times, let her cry, bow your head with genuine remorse and even endure the insults she’d throw at you. And then, thank god, move forward into the rest of your lives.
It likely hasn’t worked out like that.
But here’s the thing: It hasn’t worked out like we hoped it would either. Never did we imagine how excruciating betrayal was. Never did we think we’d come as unhinged as we did. We figured we’d be mad. We might execute some funny but biting revenge, like in the movies. We might meet our girlfriends and sob into a martini. But we didn’t imagine there would be days we couldn’t get out of bed. We didn’t anticipate the confusion, the mental fog, the dull dread that took root in our stomachs, or the stabbing pain in which, we swear, we could feel our hearts actually breaking.
We didn’t think that, even months later, a song on the radio could reduce us to a sobbing ball on the floor. Or that a chance encounter with your affair partner could unleash in us a fury that threatened to swallow us (and you!) whole.
I’ve been there. So has my (still) husband. Ten years later, we know a thing or two about getting through this.
None of this is easy. But it is worth it.
You? My guess is you’re in uncharted water. Well, so is your wife. So, in the interest in helping you help her through these treacherous days, weeks, months, here’s your guide to apologizing for breaking her heart:
- Apologize. Sounds simple, right? It’s not. Do everything you can to imagine her pain. Look directly into her eyes and don’t look away. See just how deep that agony goes. And then tell her how sorry you are that you weren’t the husband you should have been. That she did nothing to deserve this betrayal. Repeat, as often as necessary.
- Be transparent. Here’s the thing about asking us to “trust me again because I’ve learned my lesson”: Ain’t gonna happen. She’s sad, not stupid. You’ve shown her you aren’t to be trusted. That’s the problem with lying and cheating. It’s easy to squander trust. It’s really hard to earn it back. And that’s what you’re doing now. Earning it back. Bit by bit. By showing her, not telling her but showing her, that you are where you say you are, that you’re with who you say you’re with. I know you feel like a child. I know it’s humiliating to have no privacy. Do this right and you won’t live like this forever. But for now, you need to prove that you’re worth taking another gamble on. And you prove that by being willing to sacrifice your privacy. If she’s not worth it to you, then do yourselves a favor and leave.
- Work really hard to understand why you did what you did. Face your demons. You wouldn’t have done such harm if you weren’t struggling with your own self-worth. Go to a therapist. Doesn’t matter if you don’t “believe” in therapy. There’s a reason you risked everything that mattered to you for someone who didn’t. Figure out what it is with someone who’s been trained to help you. You’re no good to us until you’ve worked out your own shame around what you’ve done. Until then, you’re going to try and deflect, you’re going to minimize, you’re going to defend. None of which moves us toward healing. All of which compounds our own pain and isolation. Fix yourself first. Oh, and by the way, don’t ever cheat on her again. Ever.
- When she tells you what she needs, give it to her. If she wants you to read a certain book, then read it. If she wants you to call home if you’re going to be late, do it. If she needs space, give it to her. If she needs closeness, give it to her. Understand that you’re asking her to do the hardest thing she’s ever had to do: Forgive her best friend for lying to her, for jeopardizing her physical and mental health, for subjecting her to humiliation and gossip, for betrayed the promise you made to her. What is she asking you to do? Bring her flowers. Make a bit more effort to select a Mother’s Day card. Compliment her. Make yourself uncomfortable by talking about your shame. Doesn’t seem like too much after all, does it?
- Help her carry the pain. You do this by understanding it. You do this by really listening to her, over and over and over. Yes, it gets exhausting (it is for us, too). It doesn’t mean you have to endure abuse, emotional or physical. It just means that, by listening to us, by answering our questions even if we’ve asked the same ones repeatedly (you’d be amazed at how fuzzy our brains are), you’re helping us process our pain. You’re shouldering a bit of the burden for us. You’re showing us that our hearts can be safe with you again. We’re grateful for that, though it might be a few months before we can show it.
- Be patient. Healing takes a long time. Three to five years, by many experts’ calculus. That doesn’t mean you’ll both be miserable for that long. But it does mean that there will be setbacks. There will be triggers, large and small, that reduce her to a sobbing mess, that feel as though you’re back where you started. You aren’t. It’s a setback. And it can even be a chance for you two to remember you’re on the same team, that you’re working together to rebuild your marriage. Double down on the genuine remorse for creating this pain. Remind her again that you’re working hard to make sure she never goes through that pain. And then, for good measure, tell her that you’re the luckiest guy in the world and that you’re going to spend the rest of your life earning the second chance she gave you. And that she’ll never have to give you a third.
None of this is easy. But it is worth it. If rebuilding your marriage is what you want, I guarantee that following these steps will get you a whole lot closer to that goal. I can’t guarantee that your wife will be able to move past the pain. I can’t promise that she will forgive you. I have no idea whether she’ll respond with a revenge affair or file for divorce anyway, or just make your life miserable for eternity. But I do know that you will have done what you could to begin to make reparations for the damage you caused. And I also know that, no matter what happens, you will have begun to live your life with integrity. This means that, whatever happens next, you’re going to be a better man for it.
Copyright © Elle Grant. All rights reserved. Republished with permission.