It’s complicated.

How am I?

I’m doing good. Aren’t I? I mean, I wake up intent on doing good. I get through my days and push past the bad stuff and put a smile on my face, and that smile, more often than not, is genuine. I’m thankful for everything God is doing in our lives. He really is so, so good. So in that sense, things are great.

So when people say “Are you doing ok?” , I say “I’m fine. I’m good.” And I mean it. I believe it’s (mostly) true. Honestly when it comes down to it, I don’t really have a choice. If I want to be fine, I just have to decide that I am, and go with it.

But sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I feel like there’s a fine line between positive thinking and downright suppression. Sometimes that line gets blurry and I realize that maybe I’m not dealing with something that I need to deal with and that isn’t healthy. So I try to pay attention. When someone asks me how I am, I’ve realized that sometimes maybe it’s because they perceive something that I’m suppressing. Something in my countenance that I’m not aware of. So at first my response is, “I’m doing great”, but later, I realize maybe I’m really not so great. So I deal with it the best ways I know how and I get up the next day and start fresh with the intent that I will have a good day.

Living in positivity, it’s so simple, yet also so complicated. Because the things that cause the negative thoughts are real. The pain is real. The heartache is real. And sometimes I feel like pretending that it’s not, for the sake of trying to be positive, is just not realistic or healthy. So yes there’s a fine line. I’m working on finding the balance. Being honest with myself about how I’m really feeling, so that it doesn’t eat me away inside, while keeping a positive mindset and believing with everything in me that I’m going to get there. That I am doing great. That the heartache will one day lose its sting. That one day I can truly let go of the anger.

 
Jeff and I had a conversation the other day. I asked him if there was any part of him that was glad that he had the affair. If there was maybe just a part of him that was a little bit glad that he got to have that experience. I mean it’s something that all guys think about whether they act on it or not. So, knowing now that he would end up getting everything back, that basically things would suck really bad for a while but in the end he is forgiven and gets his life and his family back. Was there any part of him that would go back to that moment and still go through with it? Was there any part of him that felt good that he got to have that experience, he got to be with someone else and he didn’t lose everything? Knowing now that things turn out pretty good for him, and that I was the only one really still paying the price? I was the one really feeling the consequences, and he really didn’t lose anything.

His response was “I lost a lot of things, but mostly, I lost you.”

I said “but I’m still here.”

He said, “You are, but also you’re not. I lost you. The real you. The you that existed before I did this. I get pieces of you, I get what you want me to see, but I never really have all of you.”
I said, “but it isn’t that I let you see what I want you to see, this is me now. These pieces…This is all that’s left.”
And he said, “and I have to look at the pain in your eyes. I have to look at you every day and see the parts that are gone, and know the reason those aren’t there anymore is because of me. I did that to you. I have to live with the fact that I did that to you. And you are a different person now. It’s not necessarily a bad thing because in so many ways you’re even better, but that’s because since I took those pieces out of you, you filled in those empty spaces and put pieces back in their place. But if I could go back, even knowing that we end up together, I would never hurt you like this again. There’s nothing on this earth worth seeing you cry, seeing you sad, nothing worth having to watch you feel that pain.”

 
Sometimes I forget. I forget that although he ended up getting everything back, he carries the guilt of what he did. It really wasn’t a fair question to ask. Just a thought in my head when I was feeling angry about how much this has cost me. Sometimes I look at him and think it must be nice. To walk around knowing you got to enjoy doing what you did, you had your fun, things got really bad for a little while and then you get to walk around forgiven and free and everything in your world goes on like it never even happened and so why wouldn’t you go back and choose that again.

But that’s not who he is. I know that’s not who he is and I know that he hates the person he had become. The person that did that. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of that thought process, but I know it’s not true. If he could go back, knowing what he knows now, I have to believe he would choose differently.

But I keep going back to what I said in that conversation.

“These pieces… This is all that’s left.”

It’s kind of like that movie “The Truman Show”. When you wake up one day and realize that things are not at all what you thought they were. When you realize that almost a year of your life is missing. That it was a deception.

That really messes with your head. It’s hard to make sense of it. You go back through those days and it’s so confusing, to see them the way you remember them and then to compare them with the light of truth shining on them. It’s hard to distinguish which parts were real and which parts were just part of the deception. That, along with the heartbreak. It changes you. Parts of you are broken, and while parts can be mended, they are never the same, and sometimes there are gaps. Pieces that just seem to be missing.

So like Jeff said, we fill those pieces in. So, who is the real me now? I’m still figuring that out. I’m still filling in those missing spots. Sometimes, like when I ask Jeff a question like I did the other day, I’m trying to fill them in with the wrong stuff. So I have to take that back out. I’m doing my best to fill them in with forgiveness, love, kindness, joy, and strength. A whole lot of strength.

 
Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold. It takes something that has been broken, shattered, and it embraces the brokenness, and encourages an acceptance of the things we can not change. The philosophy is that brokenness is a thing of value, that there is more beauty in that brokenness than there was when the object was whole. Instead of hiding the broken parts, it illuminates them. There is an incredible beauty that can come from brokenness. When it’s pieced back together with care, and with the most precious of materials and resources, it takes on a new life. A new purpose. Fragile, yet incredibly resilient.

I like the way someone that wrote about this process once put it, that “in many ways , the true life of the bowl began the moment it was dropped.”

I like to think of my healing process as being similar to that.

 
So when you ask me how I am, I’m going to smile. And I’m going to tell you that I’m ok. That I’m getting better every day. And I’m going to mean it.
I want to be like that piece of pottery. Not trying to hide the brokenness. But instead illuminating it by being pieced back together with the goodness of God. Because there is no purer gold than his goodness. And when all the pieces are seamed back together, hopefully you’ll see his goodness shining through all the places I was broken. And I believe that I will find that I’m ok with who I’ve become. Some parts old, some parts new, once shattered but still shiny. Enriched by the brokenness instead of being destroyed by it.

So how am I doing? Well, it’s complicated. But, I think I’m doing just fine.

It’s a process

I told y’all in my last post that I had come to the realization that I wasn’t giving enough attention to my own healing process lately, so over these last couple of weeks I’ve made an effort to get back to that. 

I think part of the reason I was shutting down was that I just needed a break. The emotions involved in working through the healing process can be overwhelming at times and both mentally and physically exhausting. Jeff knew I wasn’t in a good place. I was quiet. Withdrawn. Distracted. My family noticed. My sisters said, “We’re a little worried about you. You seem different, and not in a good way.” Ouch. Yikes. Those sisters of mine. Y’all know they don’t miss anything, ha. And they have a gift of being able to say things to you that are harsh but necessary, but at the same time deliver it in the sweetest and most caring way. 😜Anyway, I knew I was spiraling, but that honesty coated in love and concern was part of what I needed to snap me back on track. So thanks for that. 😘  

There comes a time when a part of you just wants to shut down and shut it all out. You just want a minute. An hour. DARE you hope for a WHOLE blessed day…one day that this isn’t what your life is now. A day to pretend it never happened. A day to just feel normal again. And that’s fine. It’s fine to take a break. 

But in reality, you can’t really take a break from it. You can pretend all day long, but it’s there. It can never un-happen. (Yep, I just made that word up. Writers can do that and get away with it, right?) 😉 

So yes, a break is ok, but I’ve found its best to take your moment, then take a deep breath and jump back in. So I got my focus back and got back to working on me and things have gone so much better this week. Jeff and I have had some really good talks, and through those I’ve been able to come to terms with some of the things that I needed to clarify or resolve in my mind. 

I think we are both feeling a lot more peaceful this week. And hopeful. It’s not an easy process y’all. But we definitely believe there is even more goodness ahead of us. There’s been a whole lot of baby steps. There’s also been a couple of leaps, and even more steps backwards than I can count. But we are moving forward. There is progress. And it is good. It is so, so good. 

I have learned a lot. Lessons that I never wanted to be in the position to learn. Lessons that I wish had come about in a different way. But I am so grateful for them. Grateful for the changes they have brought. And especially grateful because I can share some of them with you, and hopefully that will mean that you can learn from them and apply them in your life without having to go through what I have. Or if you’ve already been through it, hopefully you can use what I share to help you move forward too. 

Thank you all for encouraging us. Thank you for showing Jeff grace and forgiveness. Thank you for all the support and encouragement you give to me. There is always a moment before I hit that publish button when I second guess myself, and I pause and think,”Am I sharing too much? Should I really put all this out there?” But the answer I get is always the same. People need to know the truth. The truth about how an affair affects everyone around you. The truth about the pain it causes. And the truth about a loving God that is full of forgiveness and grace and mercy and can walk with us through the darkest of places. The truth about just how good He really is. 

 So thank you for reading my blog, and thank you for sharing it with others. I’m still blown away when I see the far flung places my words have reached. Just blown away. I never would have imagined it and just thank God that I can use it to share His goodness. And y’all are a big part of making that possible. 

So thank you, thank you all for being goodness and love and light. I just love ya. ❤️
Amy Thurston Gordy

The Common Thread. Let’s talk about it.

Over the past few months, as I’ve written this blog and told our story, I have received many, many messages. People have reached out not only to offer their support, but to share their own stories. As we have listened to these stories, it’s become increasingly evident that a majority of the stories that are similar to ours, almost all have a common thread.

Pornography addiction.

After Jeff and I had many conversations this week on this very subject, discussing the need for people to feel safer talking about it and asking for help, a video popped up on my Facebook newsfeed. It was the actor Terry Crews, sharing his own personal battle with porn. That was all the affirmation I needed that it was time. It’s time to talk about it. His bravery and honesty is something we need more of. I don’t know him personally, but I couldn’t help but feel so proud of him. For putting himself out there, for risking his reputation to help others. I personally don’t believe he was risking his reputation though. If anything, in my eyes, he exponentially improved it. There is nothing more beautiful than a repentant heart that allows God’s goodness to wash over and pour out of them. But still, to put his darkest secret out there for all to see, was a scary thing. This I know for a fact.
It’s something that no one wants to talk about. They are embarrassed. They are ashamed. They are afraid of the way people will judge them, and gossip about them. They are afraid of losing people’s respect. Or maybe, just maybe, as much as they think sometimes that they wish they could be free of this dark secret, they really aren’t ready to give it up. And the women in their lives don’t want to talk about it either. Or they do but they don’t feel like they can. They are also embarrassed. They are also ashamed. They are afraid of how people will view their husbands if they knew. And they are afraid of how others will view them. “She must not be enough to satisfy her husband. If she took care of him this wouldn’t be an issue.” So many fears. So many lies. And so much destruction.

I’ve known about Jeff’s porn addiction for years. It’s been the biggest struggle in our marriage. Although up until recently, he wouldn’t have admitted that. You see, in his mind, he wasn’t hurting anyone. The porn addiction tells you that it’s normal. It tells you that how your spouse feels about it doesn’t matter, because it has nothing to do with them. It tells you that you need it. Then it tells you that you need more. As you progress in your addiction, you find that the images get less and less satisfying as you become desensitized, and so you find yourself searching further into depravity. Unfortunately , for so many, it eventually spills over into real life. You really believed you would never cross that line. But then here is someone, offering themselves up to you. The flirting, then the naked pictures. Then the proposition of a secret rendezvous. You aren’t sure how you ended up here. And you know you shouldn’t. But the addiction tells you this is what you need. You can actually partake of this fantasy world that you’ve created in your mind. You are entitled to this. Your wife will never find out. No one will get hurt. You deserve to have this.

The addiction tells you that your wife can’t or won’t keep up with these needs. The truth is, your wife feels so objectified and devalued, so insignificant and unimportant. You’ve created a world for her in which she is forced to compete with this unrealistic fantasy world of yours. You’ve created a world for her in which she is never enough.  Maybe you’re so deep in this addiction that you feel the need to look at porn before going to bed with your wife. Because the addiction has told you that she isn’t enough. And that you aren’t enough of a man without it. And so you’ve created a world where she knows that your affection is not about her. It’s about what you were looking at before you came to her. You’ve created a world where she is just the means to an end. Where she questions herself everyday:”Why am I never enough?” This is the world your porn addiction has created for her. And yet you can’t figure out why she doesn’t want to be intimate with you all the time. You are too blinded by your addiction to see how much pain you are causing. Your mind has been so inundated with unrealistic expectations and untruths that you aren’t really even capable of true intimacy anymore. And the saddest thing about that is, you don’t even realize what you’re missing.

And the lies. So many lies. Sometimes you feel bad about all the lies. Deep down, living with that deception is what causes your anxiety issues. But you’ve gotten really good at it. Every time you get caught, you get a little better at hiding it. You get a little better at convincing her that you do see that it needs to stop, and that you will. And maybe you do, for a little bit. A part of you wants to. But you never really let it go. You can’t quite let it go. It’s got you. And so you lie some more. By the time you are on the edge of an affair, the lying has become such second nature to you, that it’s really not even all that difficult. And your mind has been conditioned to believe that this is how things are supposed to be. It’s no big deal.

But it is a big deal. Pornography is a thief. It steals your time. It steals your dignity. It steals your integrity. It steals your honor. It steals your intimacy. It steals your relationships. It steals your identity, it keeps you there in its chains, so that you are unable to reach the potential of the person you are intended to be. It’s so dark there, that you can’t even see it, how bad things have gotten. You’ve filled your mind with so much trash, that you can’t see the truth anymore. You can’t see who you truly are. You can’t see the treasure that your wife truly is. You can’t see the blessings right in front of you.

It’s time to wake up. It’s time to see the damage and the toll this addiction is taking not just on you, but everyone around you.

“Oh, but I’m fine” you say. Yeah, Jeff said that too. “I know my boundaries” you say. Yep, he said that too.

Years before his affair ever happened, I found the story of a friend of a friend, named Cindy Beall. Her husband had a porn addiction too that eventually led to him having affairs. She has a blog, and has written a book about their story. I highly recommend y’all look it up. I discussed it with Jeff years ago, and told him I was so afraid we would end up there. He assured me we would not. He truly believed that he could control it. That he would never do what Cindy’s husband did. Don’t fall into that same trap. An addiction not dealt with doesn’t go away. It always, always gets worse. You may think you can control it, but the truth is that you won’t realize how far you can fall until you’ve already fallen.

I’m gonna stop right there and speak to you ladies. And this is important. You are MORE than enough. Hold tight to that, and when those thoughts of inadequacy sneak in, see them for the lies that they are and squash them. You have been and always will be more than enough. His addiction has blinded him from seeing you. From truly seeing the treasure that you are. But just because he can’t see it right now doesn’t make you any less of a treasure. You’re going to need to come back and re-read this paragraph over and over again. I know, because even though sometimes I could remember this and know it to be true, it was and sometimes still is so, so easy to let those feelings sneak back in and get the best of me. Your husbands addiction has affected you in ways you know, and in ways that you aren’t even aware of yet, and your recovery is just as important as his. It’s important that you reach out and find trustworthy people to talk to and resources to help you heal from the wounds in your heart, mind, and spirit.

It’s time that more people step up and tell their story. It’s time for us to bring what we have hidden away and put it out in the light of day. It’s time for people to know that they are not alone. It’s time to remove the stigmas and remove the shame that keeps you there, hiding in that dark place. It’s time to be bold. God doesn’t look at your past. God looks at your heart. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, what matters is where you go from here. So let go of that shame. Replace it with the freedom and the happiness that comes from moving towards being the best person you can be. You are worthy of being that person. This life of bondage and shame is not what you deserve. You can have a life of freedom and joy. You can be the husband and father your family deserves. It’s going to take commitment. You have to be willing to do the work. But the rewards are endless.

It’s time to be brave. Let’s create a community where it is safe to reveal your “dirty little secret”. Where it is not met with judgement or scolding, but with compassion and love. Talk to someone. Find someone that you can trust that you can be accountable to. There are resources out there. Books, videos, websites that have a wealth of information on how to break free. And there are people like Jeff and I that are walking this road of recovery before you, who will gladly share what we have learned and are still learning. This is how we win this battle. This is how we take our lives back. This is how we get the life of freedom that God intended for all of us. This is how you become a man that is capable of truly and fully loving, that is capable of real and fulfilling intimacy and relationship.

Come and join us out here in the light. Things are so much better out here.

Amy Thurston Gordy

 

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

I guess you could say that I kind of dropped the ball here. It’s been a while since I’ve made a post.  I’ve honestly been a little all over the place recently. Which is really nothing new since all this happened. I just haven’t been sure what I needed to write, and have been asking God what the next post should be about. But as I sat here tonight, I remembered writing in an earlier post that I was dropping my guard. That I would be authentic, and share my heart. The good, the bad, and the ugly.  And if I’m being honest, the past couple of weeks I’ve had all three of those. That’s when I knew what today’s post would be.
The purpose of this blog is to share my life. To share the story of the breakdown of my marriage.  The aftermath, the sorrows and the triumphs, and also the continual restoration and replacement of our joy.  And to use that to bring healing to myself, and hopefully to some of you too. So the good, the bad, and the ugly, that’s what I’m going to share with you.

We should start with the good. One thing Jeff and I have resolved to do is to make quality time together a priority now. So, last weekend we booked a night at Chateau Elan. It was gorgeous! I can not tell you how much I fell in love with this place. Our room was beautiful. Y’all just don’t know how much I love a nice hotel room with fluffy covers on the bed. We went to a wine tasting, which was ridiculously fun. We had lots of yummy food, and just enjoyed spending time together. Things were great. Really great……Until they weren’t.

Something came up that triggered the bad thoughts and just like that, our wonderful time was interrupted by this awful memory. Which in turn brought sadness, anger, insecurity & defeat. When the sadness shows up, it likes to bring friends.😓

So there we have the bad. Sometimes it’s just a moment, and you shake it right off. Other times it snowballs, and you get stuck in this cycle trying to make sense of something that just can’t make sense and it’s a losing battle. I get really upset in those moments. The thought of them together is excruciating. Then I just get so angry at what they did, and what they took from me. I get angry in moments like this one especially, this was OUR weekend. Thoughts of her do not belong here. They don’t belong anywhere in our new life. I get so angry that she has this space now, right in the middle of our marriage. She doesn’t belong there. She never belonged there. But it happened and now our marriage isn’t just our marriage anymore. It’s our marriage/the affair/our marriage. And I can’t get that time back. And I can’t make it disappear.

And that is where the ugly comes in. Those thoughts and memories stir up all sorts of emotions and literally can make you feel a little crazy. Sometimes in those moments, I think of her, and my interaction with her. I think of the way she wouldn’t own up to the truth. Even when it was absolutely undeniable. The way she told me I was crazy. The way she simply did not seem to be sorry at all for having a part in destroying my family, my life. I think of the day I had to tell her sweet husband the awful news of how she betrayed him, and how much pain she caused him too. While I hold Jeff fully responsible for his own choices and actions, and he is the one that broke the vows he made to me, she certainly has a large share of responsibility in what happened too. I don’t know if she has changed or if she is sorry now. I have heard that she claims to have changed. I hope that is as true for her as it is for Jeff, for the sake of her family. But because of the way things happened, sometimes in the bad moments I imagine a smirk on her face, I imagine her laughing at me, at how I struggle with living with what they did. It’s a funny thing, our imagination. The way it can take a perception and make it seem like reality. And I’ve never hated anyone. It’s never been in my nature to truly dislike anyone even. I don’t want to hate anyone. But I know that the feeling I have had for her is something very, very close to it. Too close. I hate what they did and in these moments, though I don’t hate the person that Jeff is now, because he is NOT that person anymore, I hate the Jeff that did this to us. The one that made the awful choices that created this devastation and torment. And that right there, that is the ugly. I’m not proud of it. Not. at. all. And I have no intention of holding on to that. I don’t want that poisoning my life. It’s something that I am working on.

I’m working on finding a way to forgive her, this person that wasn’t sorry. Maybe she has changed and she is truly sorry now. Maybe she isn’t. I’ve accepted the fact that I may never know. I’ve accepted that I may never get that apology. Yet I know for my own sake I have to forgive her. It’s a tricky thing, forgiveness. I know that I want good things for her husband, and her kids. I want her to be the person they deserve. I want them to be happy, because they are wonderful, beautiful people. So because of that, I am able to want good things for her because I care about them. So I think that is progress and a big step towards forgiveness.

Surviving infidelity is no easy task. And while I post a lot about faith and goodness and having a positive mindset, and 100% believe every bit of that,  I’m still human and I’m not gonna lie to you. This is hard. Some days it feels easier. And then it feels awful again. And then things feel pretty great and you think, “Hey, we can do this. I can do this! And, not only can I do this, but I’m happy!” And just when you think you’ve got a handle on it, something reminds you that your husband was with someone else and suddenly the pain and the grief overwhelms you all over again. Like a roller coaster, It starts out with that initial terrifying drop. Then highs and lows, and twists and turns. You can’t see what’s coming next. Then things slow down, and the big drops become small hills. You look out from where you are and you see things clearer. You take your mind off the fact that you are terrified and you look out and see that there is so much beauty to see from up here, and you think, “This isn’t quite as awful anymore. That first terrifying part is done and I never have to go through it again.”
But occasionally, there’s a sudden loop thrown in there that turns you upside down, when those thoughts creep up on you, and you lose your perspective and you feel like you are right back in the worst part of the ride. Although you know you really aren’t. You’re safely held in your harness. You’re not really plummeting to the ground. But in the moment it feels as real and as awful as the first time you knew the truth. That’s when I have to remind myself that we aren’t living in that moment anymore. It’s over, it’s all in the past, and despite these flashes of pain, what we have now is good.

As time goes by, those hard moments happen a little less. Most of the time I’m pretty good at pulling myself back. Sometimes, especially if I am feeling stressed about other things, the sadness pulls me in a little deeper and it’s a bit more of a struggle to fight off. Jeff is amazing at helping me get out of the sadness and back to the light of day. I will be posting more on that later. I am truly so thankful for the heart that he has now for God, and for me and this family. And I know that these hard days are going to pass. I know that I may never forget the pain, but I also believe that I will live in that pain less and less and live more in the joy that comes from the deeper relationship we are building with God and each other.

So this is what it’s like, life after the affair, and as crazy as it makes me feel some days, I know all of the ups and downs are perfectly normal. It says so in the ridiculous number of books I’ve read on the subject, and the counselors I’ve talked to and the other people who have been through this before me. It helps to know that.

So there it is. We all have some good, some bad, and some ugly in our lives. If we can be honest about the bad and the ugly, we can deal with them. We can kick them to the curb. And then we can be free to enjoy the good.

So that’s where I’m at. I’m gonna keep fighting off the bad and the ugly. I’m gonna put them out here in the light, even though revealing them is scary. It is SCARY, sharing all of these things with the world. But I know it helps me. It helps me keep my perspective where it should be. And hopefully my brutal honesty helps some of you. Hopefully it helps you to know that if you are going through this , you are not alone, and you are not crazy.  So I’m going to keep putting it all out here, in the light. Because that’s where our power is. We have to be honest about our thoughts and emotions to be able to take control of them. Our power is in the light, and there is no darkness in the light. There’s only goodness there. And y’all know I’m all about some goodness. ❤️
Amy Thurston Gordy

“Not my story”

I am overwhelmed at the response and the support you all have shown for this site. Absolutely blown away at the number of people it has already reached. For all those that have given me encouraging messages and comments about how the words I have written spoke to your heart, I have no words that could express how much that means and what a blessing it is to me.

This blog is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. I love words. I love writing. I never followed through with it before because I was afraid. Because I worried. What if it’s not good enough? What if no one reads it? What if I run out of things to say? And maybe, if I’m being painfully honest, How can I write and not reveal too much of myself?

I have always been a fairly private person. One that tended not to share my real full self with many. Introverted with just enough extrovert qualities to put myself out there without ever really putting myself out there. Enough to be social and have fun but always holding a little back. Flying just under the radar. Only my family and a few select and carefully chosen friends got to really know me. I was always a bit guarded, afraid to be transparent. It’s a way of protecting yourself I guess. But at the same time you are putting limitations on yourself and your life that you can’t even see.

I’m not that person anymore. I’ve learned that in order to fully reach your God given potential, you have to allow yourself to be vulnerable. From going through something so painful and heartbreaking, I’ve learned that I don’t need to protect myself. God’s got me. He is all the protection I need. If you want people to see God in you, you’ve got to be willing to put yourself out there; flaws, insecurities, heartbreaks and all. I have realized that by withholding ourselves, we are withholding Him. By hiding parts of ourselves away, we are actually hiding Him, and He is not meant to be hidden.

So, this is me. The open book, guard down, authentic Amy. Yikes. 😉                I have to admit, pressing that publish button on that first post was slightly terrifying. And this one, well this one is feeling a bit like that dream you have where you show up to class and realize you are in your underwear, or you are standing at the door of an airplane 30,000 feet above the ground and you have to jump. But it is also liberating, and I felt a true sense of peace that this is what I’m supposed to do, and it’s time to jump.

Coming up with a name for my blog was a bit of a challenge. But this phrase from something I had written in my journal kept jumping out at me. So, why “Not my story”?  Well, it actually has a double meaning.

The first being that when I learned of my husband’s affair, and in the devastating months that followed, I would have to tell my story over and over again. Each time I would tell it, it was somewhat of an out of body experience, in the sense that it was just all so surreal to me. It was as if I could hear myself saying the words, but my mind would be thinking, “Oh, that’s awful. Who is she talking about?” It was as if I was listening to someone else talking about some other person. Because this was not my story. This couldn’t be my story. How could this possibly be MY story???

This isn’t supposed to happen to me. I’m not supposed to be that heartbroken woman crying in the corner after church. No, the Amy I know is happy, and has a sweet little family. That can’t be me. We aren’t supposed to be the subject of gossip and whispers. We were supposed to be the adorable 90 year old’s that have been together since they were teenagers, at a party celebrating our 70 some odd year wedding anniversary, where Jeff would give a toast to  me having been his one and only for all those years. And people would be saying how precious we were, and what a testament to true love.

And as I’m having those thoughts, I hear the voice telling the story, MY voice, and I hear it catch as a sob escapes and it pulls me back to reality. Sheer panic washes over me, because yes, it is my story. MINE. And I did not want it.

The second reason I chose this name, is that when it comes down to it, the real story is God’s goodness. Through the best of times and through the most awful of circumstances, His goodness is always, always there. So when I share my story, or post my thoughts, or have any interaction with you; whether in person or on this blog or social media, the story I really want you to see is His. The story of His goodness, His mercy, and his unfailing love for us. So, in that sense it really is “not my story”.

For those of you that didn’t yet know what my struggle was about before having read this post, you should know that our’s is a story of redemption. It’s a story of forgiveness. I don’t say that it’s a story of restoration, because God did not restore us to what we had before. What we have now is all new, and in so many ways, so much more. Through this awful thing, God is transforming the both of us. Jeff is becoming the man God always intended him to be, but never knew how. And I am becoming the woman God intended me to be, but was never brave or bold enough. This path is not without difficulty, but we are intent to look past the pain and focus on the positive things that have come from these negative circumstances. We move forward now with our eyes opened, our hearts thankful, and with full expectancy of the goodness to come.

Thank you all for being a part of this journey with us, and for making this blog a welcoming place for my thoughts to land.

Amy Thurston Gordy