Moving Forward

In the midst of what felt like eternal hell at the time, I could have placed my life's worth of income on the idea that I'd never look back. My "what if's" were such a reality, and I couldn't see past the hour I had in front of me. Flight or fight mode is a real thing, and it goes on auto pilot for quite some time after a traumatic event. I'm here to tell anyone who needs to read this that you are definitely stronger than the circumstances placed in your corner, and you don't have to settle for less than you deserve. You do always have a choice for whatever it may or may not be.

I feel like what grabs people most of the time is the raw stuff. The stuff that everyone is thinking, but no one actually talks about. I love it when someone says something and all you can do is laugh because hell, it's true. So, I'll say this on behalf of myself, how could I have stayed in a marriage that represented the opposite of it's true meaning? I'm here now, on our 5th wedding anniversary, to tell you why.

13 months after we married, the truth spoke to me and showed me that almost every vow said on our wedding day was broken before it even began. I didn't even know what for better or for worse meant until then. How can you? On your wedding day, it's hard to see past the beauty of your planning and the novelty of your new confirmed love. To this day, watching our wedding video is difficult for both of us, but what makes it so beautiful now is that our girls love to see it.

It's spoken in the bible that "God comforts us not so that we're comfortable, but so that we can comfort others." I felt so convicted when I read this scripture because it adds a twist on to a trauma that you do not see during the event, but after. It's healing to know that our story could help someone someday, even if it's just ONE person or couple. You have to see the good in that, because it's so powerful.

If my husband and I didn't go through the things we went through 5 years ago, we just simply wouldn't be where we are today. Could we have gone without the bull shit? For sure. However, it doesn't make our marriage any less than because we were faced with the testing of our vows so early on. Here's the thing too, every marriage has their trials whether it be now or in 15 years. We laugh a little bit when someone says, "well if you can make it through the first year of marriage than the rest is easy!" For us, that statement is incredibly true.

When you're faced with the choice to leave or stay, there are some things to consider. For me, it was whether or not to support my husband in his journey of recovery, or not to. It was the idea that God allowed our daughter to be young enough not to know differently from the daddy she has now. It was 'what could be' if he got better, versus the 'how could he' when he was in his struggle. It meant setting boundaries, so this never happens again. It meant therapy. It meant couples and individual counseling. It meant me attending his rehabilitation facility with a pit in my stomach as I surrounded myself with people that, at the time, I just didn't understand. It meant him seeking forgiveness even from what seemed unforgivable. It currently means still having anxiety when he isn't with me. It means choosing to redirect my mind because I know he is well. It means facing that deep rooted fear of it happening again. It means following the peaks and valleys of the good days and the bad days. Being a wife to someone in recovery is not for the faint of heart, but I don't doubt for one second my decision to see him through this. It meant seeing his worth and supporting him because I knew he could do it... and he did.

I remember the first time I felt true empathy for my husband, and it was when I was sitting across the court room next to my lawyer as I gazed at the other side only to find my him in a state of vulnerability that I hadn't ever seen in him ever before. He was tearful, and he was sad. My husband was not a free man, but he was sober. My heart broke and healed at the same time. It's hard to explain the change I saw in him in that moment, and I do believe it was known in the universe somewhere then that we might get through this, even though I didn't see it yet.

So, to my husband:

Happy 5 years of marriage to you, to us. Happy almost 4 years of sobriety this August. I am so incredibly thankful that you chose your family above all else. I am so happy that you proved me and everyone else that has doubted you or still does, wrong. I am thankful for our journey because it's made me a better and more understanding woman. I am grateful that your children have a man like you in their corner because you'll be the perfect person to guide them through the hard stuff in life without judgement. I'm honored to be your wife. I am humbled to be apart of your journey and to be able to witness the truth that people can change and can get better. I love when you make me laugh until I cry and I love our deep conversations late at night. I love that you know I need my coffee pretty much first thing in the morning, and you appreciate my love for all the little things. I envy your ability not to worry too much, and I appreciate your caring emotions and your soft side. It might feel heavy at times and my anxieties can seem overwhelming to you I know, but I am your biggest fan. You made our worst time better, and that to me is the ultimate vow. I love you.

xo,

Em