The Hardest Pill To Swallow

*This post was formed by a common experience shared by clients and adapted into this writing.

If you ask me what’s the hardest pill to swallow in this whole betrayal, I would say it’s “me”.

Yes, there were hideous lies told and horrendous acts done against me, and I surely am still grieving. Not to mention the gaslighting and secrecy involved, and all that was stolen from me. There was such a crushing of everything I knew and had, a sense of being completely swept down by a tsunami. The very relationship that I thought was the most intimate turned out to be the worst nightmare on repeat. How did I not see what was coming?

And that, to me, is the hardest pill to swallow. That I was part of it, but did not see it coming. I trusted fully, but still was sideswiped brutally. I tried to accommodate and “do better”, but it still wasn’t enough for him. I gave up my priorities in hopes of building a better life together, but ended up with lost opportunities and a ruin. I even tried to forgive and let go of the past, but it just perpetuated his entitlement and cheapened grace upon grace.

So, on top of the trauma of betrayal, I blame myself for not seeing more clearly, not acting more promptly, not taking things more seriously, not looking more sexy, not trusting my gut more instinctively. And I beat myself up for believing him too naively, forgiving him too quickly, giving up on my own dreams too willingly, ignoring my own needs too frequently, and a thousand other ways I have lost myself in it.

How can I forgive myself for every single guilt and shame that comes from living with a sex addict? This is beyond me, and it’s way too much for me to carry.

Dear “me”, I am so sorry. I see how hard it is to swallow this pill, to bear the unfair consequences of his brokenness and the unjust systems that perpetuate his selfish choices. I see how hard it is to find myself entangled by my own regret and harshness towards myself. But the truth is that his addiction was never about “me”. I did not cause it, I could not control it, and I could not cure it. Even if I had the virtue of Mother Theresa, the elegance of Princess D, the body of Beyonce, and made our home like Joanna Gaines, it would not have made a difference if he was still sexually addicted.

As I take a deep breath and allow this truth to settle in, I am choosing to release this weight that I’ve been carrying. Dear “me”, as hard as it is to swallow this pill, I am still here, I am learning to pick up the pieces, and I am surrounded by a sisterhood of warriors like me. With compassion and care, I am reclaiming myself in truth and dignity. The hardest pill to swallow ends up strengthening me.