Avoid the Soul Robbers

Yesterday, I had coffee with Joelle Deyo.  We were talking about the shame we sometimes feel over the mistakes we have made as we have lived life in Crisis.

We were also talking about how, in a paradoxical sort of way, we embrace our mistakes.  They allow us to understand the mistakes of others.  Particularly, as we work closely with people in Crisis Recovery.

It is rewarding to visit with a woman who is in a compromising relationship after suffering through an abusive marriage, and know that she doesn't feel judged by me when I share my story, and the things I've learned through the mistakes I've made.  Seeing the perspective my life lessons provide?  Priceless.

For eighteen years I was in a marriage that was anything but conducive to my healthy self esteem.

As a young bride with a pre-baby body, I was regularly criticized by my husband for wearing clothing that revealed too much of my figure.  I was similarly criticized for wearing make-up.  For wanting to spend any amount of time primping, or shining.  I was conditioned that doing so wasn't godly.  That it was vain.  Wrong.

As the babies came along, and even a shower was a luxury, I fell into the t-shirt and sweats routine, wearing only what was easy to slip on, and run with in my day.

If I felt particularly needful of femininity, I would wear a jumper-style dress over a t-shirt or turtleneck (it was the 90s...don't judge me).  It's easy to "hide" growing booties under a dress.

I kept my hair very long, and wore French braids a lot.

I had a minor vision issue, but yet wore my glasses 100% of the time, in spite of the fact that my eye doctor said I didn't have to.

So, in my mid-thirties, I was a 165 pound frumpy woman in a 5'3" frame, wearing sweats, a t-shirt, a French braid, and glasses I didn't need.  I was plain, and to my husband plain was equal to being a good, and godly woman.  My conditioning was such that I had to be plain to get the very approval from my husband I so desperately craved.

In the meantime however, he had an addiction to pornography.  He kept his addiction a heavily guarded secret for the whole of our marriage.  Passwords.  Not teaching me how to operate a computer beyond using the Internet, because it would be too hard for me to learn.  He did whatever he could to keep me away from his secret.

All the way down to making sure that the mother of his children looked nothing like the women he watched in the pornographic movies and still images.

I now know that when a man is caught in a sex addiction that is contrary to his own moral compass, it is very important for him to keep a clear line of distinction between the sexual objects he lusts after and fantasizes about, and the woman he has at home, raising the children.

His behavior was very common.

Within a year of separating, I lost weight and was down from a size 14 to a size 6.  I stopped wearing my glasses.  I wore pants with a waist band, and blouses with buttons.

I worked at a country club, then a restaurant.  For the first time in years I had men around, giving me lots of attention.  Flattering attention.  Attention I was hungry for.  Starving for.  For the first time in years, I felt like a sexual creature, and although I'd like to think that I was giving off a virtuous vibe, I had to have been at least giving off a scent, or something known only to forward men on the prowl.

Sad thing is, I took the attention seriously.  Well, not all of it.  I have a girlfriend I used to work with at one of the restaurants, and all these years later, we still call each other dollface after a mutual venting session about men who insist on demeaning women with little object tags like that.  Little Lady, my friends and I would like another round.  Thanks a lot, Sweetheart.  Makes my skin crawl.

My heart was wanting love.  My self esteem was wanting a defibrillator.  But, my soul needed rest.

When I look back at those years, I wish I would have allowed myself the pain of loneliness.  I wish that on the weekends that my ex-husband had the kids, I would have simply stayed true to my worth, my commitment to my family, and even my morals, and simply stayed home.  Because, rather than keeping my head in the game of Crisis, I ran from it allowing the high and exhilaration of romance, or at least what I perceived to be romance, sway me away and lull me into a state that dulled my senses.

My ex-husband's behavior as a sex addict was just as predictable as my behavior post-separation.  Both behaviors came from a place of brokenness within each of us, and it's only after I have personally experienced such things, that I have been able to truly understand the reactions in pain so many people fall victim to.  Yes, we must take responsibility for our actions and do whatever we can to guard ourselves from falling prey to destructive behaviors, but likewise, those of us with people in our lives who are recovering from Crisis have a responsibility as well.  A responsibility to understand those who are hurting, and when needed, lovingly guide them back to a healthy way of living that won't leave them with a robbed soul.

I take this responsibility seriously, as do Joelle, Mike, John, Tracey, and Rossy.  We are here for our readers, happy to share our mistakes and our triumphs, if doing so will help you climb out of Crisis, to Life on the other side.  From here, the view is sweet.  And we want you to join us.  With your soul in tact.