Recently, a few people asked me a fantastic question. “Why did you stay?”
My answer is quite simple.
I didn’t want to be another divorce statistic.
Nothing spiritual, profound, or redeeming. Pure, unadulterated pride.
In the moments after he delivered his bombshell, Dave offered to sleep on the couch when I heard myself say, “That’s fine, but it’ll be crowded.” Not sure why I said that.
Yet, after the shock lessened, I contemplated getting in the car and driving until the tank ran out of gas.
The direction didn’t matter.
The pain was too much. The shame and disbelief felt overwhelming.
Where would I go? What would I do? Could I support myself?
Then, I watched my husband do what he said he’d do.
He made an appointment with a counselor, contacted a few friends to ask them to help him with his struggle, used the computer only in family locations, and took action on everything he said he would do. I saw his commitment to quit porn.
Yet I continued to wonder about leaving the marriage and starting over.
Then I asked God, “Is it okay for me to leave this marriage? After all, my husband betrayed me.”
So why did I stay?
1. Horizontal reasons.
Pride. I didn’t want to be another statistic. It’s not a pretty or noble reason, nor is it godly. But it is truthful. My stubborn pride refused to entertain divorce but held out the right to change my mind if things got worse.
Fear. Even though I’d held several successful jobs, I wasn’t sure I could live independently and support myself. Where would I live? Who would remain my friends? At that point, I wasn’t convinced I was a complete person without my husband.
Shame. What would others think of me if I divorced my husband? Part of me wanted to tell the world what he’d done just to get back at him. But the other part looked for places and ways to hide. I knew that if anyone found out, I’d be rejected or shunned.
2. Relational reasons.
Dave’s immediate contriteness and evident brokenness convinced me he would get help. And he did. Though I didn’t trust him out of my sight in those initial days, he did everything he said he would do.
After I learned about and agreed to the restoration plan, I willingly submitted to the process. I would keep my word in this area. At first, I didn’t hope we’d have a great marriage, but maybe it would be good.
Our children believed in their dad and his potential healing. They encouraged us with their prayers, offers to help, and even their questions. I guess I adopted their beliefs until I started trusting Dave again.
3. Vertical reasons.
Looking back at the first hours and days after discovery, I see how God showed up repeatedly. God orchestrated our steps, from directing me to call Cathy immediately to Dave’s meeting with Peter to his employer, who accepted the quickly drafted recovery plan.
Neither Dave nor I generated any of these ideas. I was in shock, and he was overwhelmed with shame. God surrounded us and provided each contact and step when we needed it.
Eventually, I learned that if I was to stay in this marriage, my trust had to be in God, not Dave. God alone remained constant. I felt distant from him, but I kept looking for him.
When I received the suicidal depression diagnosis, our restoration team and Dave reminded me that God hadn’t left me. They would pray over me and with me. I read the Psalms and cried those words to God when I could because they were the only parts of the Bible that made any sense.
Today, I understand that my initial reason to stay was rooted in self.
Did God shake his head at my pride? I don’t know. But I believe he used that pride to keep me in the marriage and fight for it long enough to see the evidence of his work in Dave. I’m so thankful he did.
Many people will tell you today to simply kick him out if you discover his porn struggle.
It’s what I wanted to do. But I’m so thankful I didn’t choose that option.
As a betrayal recovery coach, I want you to know you have options.
The intense pain, anger, and distrust blur them, but they are there. You are not alone in your betrayal. If you will allow it, I’d love to show you how I recovered with God’s help. Let’s talk.