The Courage to Say Enough!

Telling our marriage counselor, in front of my husband, that he has crossed a line that I feel cannot be crossed back and that I felt violated is one of the hardest things that I have had to do.

...but dammit, I did it!!

My voice shook, and my throat closed, but I did not fall apart. I did not look at him while I was talking to the counselor, because I decided that I did not care what he was doing or thinking while I was telling this story.

After relaying, without specific details, what had occurred on that night, I said that trust was completely broken and I did not feel it could be repaired. I added that I felt I could never sleep with him again and that I felt violated.

I thought she would ask him if he had anything to say. Instead, she asked me if I wanted to speak with her alone. I nodded my head, and she asked him to leave. I cannot express how supported I felt by that single action from that woman. I felt like I had an advocate without having to explain myself in detail. I felt safe and protected.

She asked me to tell her the entire story...what really happened. So I told her...the way I told it on this blog. She took notes...and said that if I wanted to ever press charges, she had everything documented. She said it was sexual assault, regardless of who interpreted the law. When she asked if I wanted him to leave, I replied that I no longer wanted to be married to him. She understood this very well. We spoke of safety and lawyers, then she gave me this option: I could leave at that time and she would tell my husband that we will no longer be working on repairing the marriage but on resolution of the marriage, or I could tell him myself in the safety of her presence. While the first option seemed easier, I decided that I did not want him to ever think that I am afraid of him or of this process, so I told him myself.

"We are finished."

"That's it?"

"Yes, we are no longer on the same page."

"Say no more." (He gets up to leave.)

"So you want a divorce?"

"Yes"

As he stood at the doorway with the door wide open, he expressed how sorry and heartbroken he was over this. He was sorry for us, sorry for him, sorry for me, sorry for our babies. He said he felt criminal (imagine that), and that if he had to be the "bad guy" again he would be, but that there was another side to this story. Once again, he was making himself out to be the victim.

After he was well out of the property, I left and immediately drove to my therapist's office (I had a scheduled appointment). When I arrived, I sat in my car and cried for a little while. I was shaking inside. I had the "Oh my God, what have I done?!" feeling, while at the same time feeling immensely proud of myself.

Once in his office, I relayed what had just happened. I was still feeling very afraid, but as always, talking with him is calming. I am so glad that I was able to use my voice exactly when I needed to. I am glad that I had the courage to say the words that needed to be said. There was a time when I would not have had the strength to do this. There was a time when I would have stayed with him, silently tolerating...everything...and allowing him to make me feel like he was right and that I was wrong to feel violated and disrespected.