"The Pile of Clothes"

In my professional life, I have a general adult psychotherapy practice.  What this means is that I work only with people over 18 years of age; I treat issues ranging from depression to anxiety, to obsessive-compulsive disorder, to eating disorders, to posttraumatic stress disorder, sexual dysfunction, and more.

The bulk of my work falls in the category of "relationship issues".  (My specialty is infidelity, but that's another story.)  In other words, I do a lot of couples and marital therapy.  Now, couples come into therapy with a vast range of concerns, but, after a certain amount of time together, husband and wife may simply become disgruntled with each other and their idiosyncracies.  I sometimes call this the "pile of clothes" syndrome.

When we're just starting out in a relationship, we tend to be much more tolerant of someone's peculiarities and annoyances, whether it's being consistently late, being a finicky eater, or simply depositing one's "stuff" around the house.  This can be piles of mail (I confess to a bit of this), or the proverbial "pile of clothes".  I can't count the times I've heard from women "He just drops his clothes on the floor and they pile up for an entire week.  He'll even just drop them right in front of the clothes hamper."

Well, there are different ways to respond to this irritant.  One, of course, is to repeatedly complain to your spouse or partner.  Clinical experience, however, suggests that this approach accomplishes very little.  Your spouse may or may not change his behavior in response to your nagging--for a time.  Another approach is to become the "clothes martyr".  What this means is that you decide it's your job to manage the clothes pile, but you do it with deep and audible sighs, and you suffer largely in silence.  Of course, you can always try the rational approach of explaining to your spouse why the clothes pile is a problem; but he or she may simply not agree that it is.  It's not a problem to him.  If it were, he'd likely do something about it.

Finally, one option is to reconsider what that pile of clothes signifies.  Yes, it may be unsightly and may "spoil" your otherwise spotless and tidy house.  Yes, it may signify to you that you haven't adequately "trained" your spouse.  One other way to think about that mound of clothes is that it signifies something other than messiness or disregard for your feelings.  As long as the pile is there--and continues to grow, within reasonable limits--your beloved is alive and well.  He'll return home from work, change his clothes, and add to the pile.  It's when you lose a loved one, whether through death or divorce, that the pile disappears forever.  And that can be a very lonely way to live.  So, some measure of acceptance of a spouse's foibles and annoying habits can help to orient us to what we really value in life and what we really don't want to lose.

"Traditions"

A few years ago, after a serious health scare, my husband and I decided to cross off one of the items on our marital bucket list.  We bought a motor home and determined to hit the road when our demanding schedules permitted, as we both work full time.  This motor home still takes my breath away with its beautiful appointments and range of features.  You could very comfortably live in it, if you became what's known in the RV community as "full timers".

I had never imagined myself as an RV type of person until we started putting ours to good use.  We are fortunate to be within 20 minutes or so of a lake which offers lots of great opportunities for recreation and relaxation.  On some of our earliest trips, I knitted scarves, made beaded and sterling earrings, read, and sometimes just studied the details of the surrounding forest from the comfort of my chair.  My husband read, tied flies for fishing, and enjoyed an occasional cigar.  We bobbed along the shore in our float tubes and discovered our dogs' extreme love of swimming.  And, of course, we talked for hours on end.

After I signed my book contract ("The Essential Guide to Surviving Infidelity"), the early morning hours--when I relish solitude and silence--were devoted to writing.  In fact, I'm writing this post while we're parked by a gorgeous lake in the North Georgia mountains.  Our getaways are my perfect backdrop for contemplation and composition, before the activities of the day get underway.

About three years ago, we started making an annual pre-Thanksgiving trek with some dear friends to a North Georgia park graced with a spectacular waterfall and gorge.  These folks live a mere 15 to 20 minutes from us, but ironically the demands and pace of everyday life seem to prevent us from getting together more than once every few months.  Since that first trip together, we've made it a point to create a valued annual tradition.

We've explored other campgrounds, but the format for the weekend is pretty much the same.  Time spent getting the RV ready to use, unpacking food, sheets and towels, and getting something defrosted for the evening's dinner.  There's casual conversation as we go in and out of the motor home and see our neighbors similarly involved in their set-up tasks.

Finally, it's time to relax and spend time together.  The men may enjoy a cigar and we may share some wine.  Last night, as the sun was going down, we built a roaring fire in the campground firepit.  The dogs surveyed nearby campers and their dogs.  People occasionally stroll onto your site and ask about the dogs, or where you're from, or whether you've been to this campground before.

Dinner is usually served on the picnic table on one of the two sites.  Lights are strung up, and the campground comes alive with the sounds of laughter, conversation, and music.  Soon the smell of food grilling perfumes the air and mingles with the smoke of the campfires.  After dinner and cleanup, we all return to our places around the campfire and devote ourselves fully to enjoying companionship and the break from our routines.

As traditions go, this annual trek is fairly simple--no plane or hotel reservations, no concerns about wardrobe (other than staying warm).  But it's treasured and eagerly anticipated time together with some of our closest friends, and an invaluable reminder of what really matters in this life.  Like the changing color of the leaves in the fall, it's a foretaste of the true meaning of Thanksgiving and our expressed gratitude for the blessings of love and friendship.

"Why Have An Affair?"

"What kind of question is that?", you may ask.  After all, we live in a society which endorses monogamy as the gold standard for adult intimate relationships.  And most of us, at some point, exchange vows with another in which we promise to "forsake all others".

But the fact remains that, in spite of love for a partner and commitment to that person, many of us, somewhere along the line, get involved with a third party.  It goes without saying that, for most betrayed individuals, knowledge of your spouse's extramarital relationship is devastating.  As a clinical psychologist who specializes in relationship issues and affair recovery, the word "devastated" is the one I hear most frequently as someone struggles with discovery of his or her spouse's infidelity.

In my book, "The Essential Guide to Surviving Infidelity" (Alpha Books, a division of Penguin Books), I address the complicated question of what drives someone to cheat on a spouse--whether the affair is sexual, emotional--or, as frequently happens, some combination of both.  Let me say up front that those of us who study and treat infidelity use different categorizations for the factors that propel affairs.  Roughly, I tend to break these factors down into opportunity, the culture in which we live and work, personality traits, and even characteristics of one's marriage.  This last factor is a bit dicey, as an affair is never the "fault" of a betrayed spouse, and an unsatisfying marriage is never an excuse for an affair.

Opportunity can be something as simple as meeting someone while traveling on business and engaging in a "one-night stand, no strings attached".  Of course, a mixed-sex workplace can also be rife with opportunities for developing relationships that violate appropriate professional boundaries.  And, sadly, it's a fact that most affairs begin in the workplace.

The effects of culture on monogamy tend to operate on both the macro and the micro levels.  On the macro level, the media bombards us with images of infidelity and news of one or another celebrity's or politician's affair.  Movies and prime-time television are often themed around illicit relationships.  On the micro level, family history and the habits and attitudes of one's cohorts can contribute to a propensity to engage in affairs.  If dad or a brother has had an affair (or several), or if one's friends frequent strip clubs or engage in extramarital relationships, those behaviors can normalize the idea that "It's OK to get a little something on the side".

Certain personality types may also be predisposed to engage in affairs.  For example, a narcissistic individual may feel entitled to extra attention, in both the sexual and emotional realms.  And because narcissists tend to be lacking in empathy, they may also fail to see the impact of their extramarital behaviors on a spouse or partner.  Another personality type that may be somewhat prone to engaging in an affair is the highly dependent individual.  Particularly if they have doubts about a partner's opinion of them or value of them as a person, they may find an affair a way to validate their sense of self-worth, at least temporarily.

Finally, while it's important to reiterate that a troubled marriage never excuses an affair, especially in the age of no-fault divorce, an unsatisfying marriage can possibly make someone more vulnerable to looking for validation outside the marriage.  This is a very complicated topic, to be addressed in a future post, but suffice it to say for now that someone can be ambivalent about his marriage.  He will vigorously maintain in therapy that he loves his wife and certainly doesn't want to lose access to his children.  But, with intense examination over time, he admits that something was lacking in his marriage and family life.  Again, this is not an excuse for engaging in an affair, but it is reality.

On an added note, there are psychologists and sociologists who argue that, biologically speaking, we are not hard-wire for monogamy, and that our increasing lifespan actually compounds this propensity toward infidelity.  These are fascinating topics which academics are currently researching and which hopefully will in time add perspective to the compelling subject of infidelity.  These questions will also be addressed in future posts.

*My use of the pronouns "he" and "she" in no way implies that only one gender engage in a particular type of behavior.  It's largely a literary device used to maintain balance, but also does, to some extent, reflect what I typically hear in my practice.

"Your Lover's Past"

A dear friend recently asked whether it was appropriate to ask about his partner's past romantic involvements.  I asked him to give me a bit of time to ponder that question, as it's somewhat tricky.   I've seen couples come to grief with each other because they refused to share information, or because they did, and it turned out the partner couldn't handle what they learned.

It's perfectly natural to be curious about other people our partners have been involved with.  We wonder about the nature of those relationships.  Were they sexual?  If so, how did they compare to what we do with our partner now?  How emotionally committed were they?  What was the nature of the attraction, and what brought about the end of the relationship?  Our curiosity knows no bounds when it comes to wanting to understand our partners.

Some couples are quite open in this area, and readily share information about past relationships.  On the other hand, I have had couples come into marital therapy and reveal previous marriages that a current spouse had no clue about.  Needless to say, the future of that marriage rests on shaky ground.  After all, the foundation of a secure and satisfying marriage/relationship is trust.  To learn that your spouse or partner has had one or more committed relationships that were never revealed to you undermines that trust.

Think carefully about what you want or need to know.  Clearly, if your partner has been married before, you probably need to know the circumstances surrounding those relationships and the divorces that ended the marriages.  Was there physical or extreme emotional abuse involved?  You also need to be aware of arrangements made regarding minor children, visitation, and asset division.  These issues can affect you directly, and so you should have no hesitation having honest and detailed conversations with your partner about them.

But how much do you need to know regarding your partner's sex life, for example, with a previous spouse?  Do you need to know how often they had sex and what activities they engaged in?  What do you need to know about their shared interests and how much time they spent pursuing them?  There is no single formula regarding these questions.  You and your partner need to jointly decide what you want to share, and how the shared information might enhance or damage your relationship.

For instance, how much do you need to know about the threesome your husband had during a frat party?  How do the images of that night benefit you and your marriage now?  After all, you didn't even know him at that time.  And how does it enhance your marriage for your husband to have details about boys you attended your proms and other events with during high school?

Unless we are currently in relationships that began during or shortly after high school, the likelihood is that we've had some sort of relationship with one or more other people during our adult lives.   This is especially true if either of us has been married before.  The challenge becomes accepting that our partner was an adult who had a life before they met and committed to us, and that their history isn't a threat to us, but rather part of their life narrative.

Loss Compounded

At some point, we all experience it--the loss of a family member or a dear friend.  While the relationships were different and the sense of loss is never the same, what is constant is the hole that the loss creates in our lives and our hearts.  A relative, a beloved friend, a long-time valued coworker is gone.  Unless someone has held a similar relationship status to the departed (e.g., a sibling, another coworker), it may be difficult for others to deeply empathize with your intense pain and bewilderment about your loss.

At such times, typically family and friends rally around us and support us with words of comfort and tangible expressions of caring.  How many times do we hear "I'm so sorry for your loss" and how many casseroles are dropped off at our homes?  This may continue for two to three weeks, sometimes a bit longer.  Then, gradually, the phone calls and the visits taper off.  While it may not explicitly be said, we're expected to "get back to normal".  This is to a large extent for the benefit of those around us.  We may, for some indeterminate period of time, continue to have days where we feel we can't possibly function.  But others don't want to get so mired in our pain and misery that they can't function, either.

This can feel like people have stopped caring.  To some extent, this is true.  Your loss is not their loss, and their primary connection to the deceased may be you.  They may not have been close to the person who passed away, but they're close to you.  You will continue to struggle with the range of feelings the death engendered in you--shock, deep sorrow, abandonment, even anger at the deceased for leaving us.  When working with bereaved clients, I often get questions about the "normal" course of grief.  "Am I crazy for feeling this way?"  "How long will I feel this way?"  "Is this normal?"  The answer to this last question, to be addressed in a future post, is that, when it comes to grief, there really is no "normal".

These feelings, coupled with the gradual withdrawal of support from those in our social network, can result in what I call a "compound loss".  You've not only lost someone who played an important emotional role in your life, but, over time, the support and expressions of concern from others begin to dwindle.  At this point, it may be useful to locate a psychologist or other mental health professional who can offer an objective, value-neutral setting in which to air your feelings about your loss and the level of support which you've received from those closest to you.  This kind of relationship can provide the opportunity to process your loss and its impact on you, without the pressure of needing to "get over it" within a certain time frame.

The Infidelity Script

"The Infidelity Script"

Sadly, all too many of us find ourselves actors in this drama.  Something alerts us to the fact that a spouse has been unfaithful.  It can be almost anything, from a whiff of perfume that you don't recognize;  credit card receipts for dinners or hotel stays you never enjoyed;  jewelry or clothing that you never received; or changes in customary patterns of behavior that suggest that something's not quite right.

At first, you're likely to feel extremely confused, perhaps you even doubt your own sanity and assume you're just imagining things.  After all, your spouse would never do that to you and your family.  The sad reality is that many of our spouses do just that.  Reliable statistics are very hard to come by, as people are reluctant to admit to betraying their marital vows.  But, some of the best numbers suggest that between 40% and 60% of men and at least 40% of women in first marriages will engage in affairs.

Disclosure of an affair can happen in any number of ways.  Occasionally, a spouse will simply come forward--whether out of guilt or fear of being caught--and admit to an extramarital affair.  More likely, however, a guilty spouse is confronted about an affair and denies it initially.  Eventually, after being presented with sufficient evidence about his or her behavior, the spouse who had the affair will admit to something.  The admission, however, may only be partial and may be a distortion of what really transpired.

This is the point at which spouses may end up repeatedly contending with each other over versions of the truth.  The spouse who had the affair may still be engaged in protecting himself/herself or an affair partner, while the betrayed spouse may feel in his or her "gut" that there is much more to be uncovered.  The parallel processes of denial or "damage containment", and attempting to discover ever more of the truth, can go on for months.

Eventually, a couple reaches a place where they need to make a decision.  They'll either part ways over the affair, they'll work to build a stronger marriage, or they'll live in emotional limbo, where nothing is ever resolved.  Arriving at a decision can, in and of itself, take time.  The betrayed spouse may feel such raw, searing pain that she isn't sure she can put any effort into the marriage.  And the spouse who had the affair may become impatient and want to "just get on with it".

When a couple decides to work on the marriage, there's no denying that they're in for a bumpy road.  There will be glimmers of hope, followed by setbacks that lead the betrayed spouse to think that any "progress" the couple made was merely an illusion.  But that's the typical course of affair recovery--two steps forward and one step back,  for a while.  But the promising news is that they're still one foot ahead of where they were before.

Strange as it may sound,  in my clinical practice, I've seen couples, while scarred by an affair, come through it stronger, closer, and much better friends than before.  So, for those of you who are stinging from a spouse's infidelity, there is hope.

Fantasy: Your Safety Net

In my clinical practice, I do a great deal of work with individuals who struggle with sexual issues.  They may have had an affair, or they may have imagined having one, perhaps with someone at work, a neighbor, or even an in-law.  As you can imagine, there is often a great deal of guilt associated with these thoughts.

Of course, such thoughts are what we usually refer to as "fantasy".  Just the mention of "fantasy", however, is enough to fill make many people with feelings of anxiety and guilt.  It's as if they had already acted upon the promptings of their imagination.  For instance, a patient may come into therapy and confess that he's obsessed with a female coworker.  When he and his wife make love, he's actually imagining having sex with the other woman.  And, consequently, he's consumed with guilt, as if he has betrayed his wife with a real-life physical and emotional relationship.

Now this is a tricky topic.  And people will disagree on whether or not this kind of behavior constitutes betrayal.  One of my rules of thumb for which types of fantasies are "safe" and which can be potentially damaging to a marriage or committed relationship is how much access you have to the object of your fantasy in real life.  If you're imagining being with Angelina Jolie or Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt or Kim Kardashian, then you're on relatively safe ground.  For virtually all of us, the likelihood that we'll even meet these people, let alone become romantically involved with them, is close to zero.  These fantasies, however, can actually help couples through rather stale periods in their marriage.  The fantasy of being attractive to and desired by a celebrity can maintain a sense of vitality and interest.

On the other hand, if you're fantasizing repeatedly about someone with whom you're in close contact--a coworker, a neighbor, someone you play on an office sports team with, someone with whom you volunteer for a charitable cause--you could be in dangerous territory.  After all, you have real and repeated opportunities for deepening relationships with these people.  You can begin taking lunches with coworkers more frequently; you can sign on for extra projects with someone who's part of a charitable organization; you can look for opportunities to interact more frequently with a neighbor, and so on.

And, then, of course, there are our day-time non-sexual fantasies.  These fantasies tend to revolve around issues of achievement, self-esteem, and self-worth.  They may have to do with professional accomplishments and how we're valued by our peers.  For instance, do we see ourselves as perhaps doing our bosses' job better than he or she does?  Such fantasies can inspire us to improve our performance in our own spheres of employment.

And so, fantasy is a vast emotional terrain that allows us to explore possibilities in different aspects of our lives.  We can play out different roles and with different people.  It's important to consider the extent to which sharing fantasies (with anyone but your therapist!) is appropriate, as that can be either threatening or enhancing to a relationship.  The risk of sharing fantasies, however, is a subject for another time.

“Home”

Most of us have a physical address, for example, 333 Main Street, Anytown, USA.  But where does our heart reside?  Is it where we grew up as young children, with memories of riding tricycles and our young neighbors?  Is it where we spent our adolescence, feeling those pangs of attraction for that cute boy or girl down the street?

By the time we’ve completed high school, our sense of home is fairly well defined.  Later in life, as we contemplate “home” , that will function as a reference point.  “Home” was a place where, regardless of how we had failed our parents’ expectations, we could still return.

But, as adults, we also create our own sense of home.  This may have to do with the part of the country we choose to live in, a spouse’s personal history and sense of place, the career path we follow, and decisions we make for our children, regarding schooling, etc.

The idea of “home”  has recently been very much on my mind.  My elder daughter married a few weeks ago, and the ceremony and associated festivities were all held in areas of a city where I used to spend a great deal of time.  And, this weekend, my husband and I are traveling in our motor home through parts of the state that were home to me for many years.

A strange sense of disconnect during these last two trips led me to ponder how we establish that sense of home.  A number of years ago, as I was going through a major life upheaval, I was elated to travel to the city that would become my new home.  The sense of exhilaration as I departed was unparalleled.  The return trip was agony, except for the awareness that I’d soon see my college-age daughters. 

This process went on for several months, until I had my new residence established and resolution of legal matters under way.  And so the transition from home in one city, where I had resided for many years and where my children had been born and raised, began.

I immersed myself in the professional community in my new city and experienced a great deal of satisfaction in that.  I made rewarding connections and found that exciting professional opportunities emerged from those.  And, so, my new city has become home in a very vibrant and promising way.  And yet, a trip through my former home is enough to powerfully tug at my heartstrings.  The moral of the story is, I guess, that we invest ourselves emotionally wherever we go, and that that’s just fine.

Who Are Your Friends?

One of my favorite radio talk show hosts is Dennis Prager. He is highly intelligent, provocative, and yet retains a wry, but benign, sense of humor. He isn't afraid to tackle life's big questions, such as the nature of God, the meaning of the Bible, and relationships between men and women. During my commute, I'll often eagerly tune into his show. Other days, there's so much noise in my head from my clinical sessions and any writing projects I'm doing that I crave silence.

Today, Dennis was hosting his "Happiness Hour", devoted to exploring various facets of contentment and positivity in life. His specific topic today was friendship and how and why friendships end. I was fascinated by his callers and their stories. What most captivated me were the stories of decades-long friendships in which eventually one friend encouraged the other to take a course of action that violated that person's moral compass, for example, to actually take a test for one's child so that he wouldn't fail a college course, or to abandon one's family and "just go be happy".

There is a saying that "Friends want the best for each other and bring out the best in each other." Several of the calls I heard on the show today seemed to fly in the face of that conventional wisdom. I'd like to encourage you, if faced with a friendship dilemma, to consider whether your friend has your best and truest interests at heart, or has some other agenda.

My Best Friend's Suicide

Right up front, I'll be clear that names and other details have most definitely been changed. Suicide is about pain, the kind that never goes away, for those left behind. The last thing I want to do here is inflict more pain by exposing personal details that could reveal identities.

Several years ago, my best friend of twenty years killed herself. We had done our psychology internships together. Although we came at the practice of psychology from different perspectives (she was strongly behavioral and I was much more psychodynamic at the time), we had many stimulating discussions about our work. She and her husband also became an integral part of our family and became "Aunt Sheryl" and "Uncle Gary" to my two young children.

Gary was a physician in a fast-paced high-pressure trauma center. Years in that setting eventually wore on him, and he took a job with a small practice in northern California. Sheryl moved out there after handling the sale of their home on the east coast. She had practiced psychology only intermittently after internship, and hadn't completed the requirements for licensure, so still had to be supervised by others in her work. She spent the rest of her time in community and charitable work.

The move to California was hard on Sheryl. She was thousands of miles away from family, had no friends there, and no professional identity. While she had had some vague physical ailments over the years, her health took a definite turn for the worse after the move. Gary spent much of his free time researching possible diagnoses, but to no avail. To say that he became frustrated is to put it mildly. Sheryl, on the other hand, became quietly despondent and withdrawn.

The details of the night I got the call is forever seared into my brain. As soon as I heard Gary's voice, I knew Sheryl was dead, but I instantly assumed it was an auto accident. As he went through the details of coming home from work and finding her body, I was enveloped by a whirlwind of emotions--indescribable pain, anger, loss, bewilderment. I also knew that my life was forever changed by her act.

As Gary and I talked by phone during the next few days, more details came to light--the manner of death, how Sheryl had staged her death scene, the amount of planning she put into her suicide, and that Gary was even briefly considered a suspect in her death. To make matters worse, her family back East also accused him of somehow being responsible for her death, that perhaps he had neglected her after the move or hadn't done enough to ease the transition for her.

I was ready to get on the next plane and head to California to be with Gary and help him with whatever arrangements needed to be made. He asked me to wait a couple of months until he felt ready to face the task of going through her possessions. Of course, I honored that and actually shared a very special time with Gary when I finally did visit. He turned over the task of sorting her belongings to me. We sat around and talked and laughed and cried. Gary and I remain good friends. He has remarried, a very special lady who has introduced him to an entirely different way of life.

The thing about suicide is that, so often, you never get what it was really about. Sheryl left a very lengthy, cryptic letter to both Gary and me. I read that letter over and over on my way home to my family. I concluded it actually raised more questions than it answered, and I even wondered if that was Sheryl's intent in writing it. Certainly Gary and I kept second-guessing ourselves. What had we missed that might have saved her life? I read and reread her emails to me over the last few years of her life to see what was between the lines that I didn't pick up on. And I found nothing. I don't know whether that was a blessing or not. To think that I might have been able to do something, but failed to do it, would have flooded me with a sense of lifelong guilt. On the other hand, to find no clues as to her state of mind, what the tipping point between life and death was for her, has left me with a sense of helplessness that I'll carry forever.

The Intimate Hour (Part II)

What is a patient looking for when he or she comes to therapy? My experience is that, in general, he has tried everything he knows to do in dealing with an issue. He has exhausted his own personal resources. But making that initial call can be fraught with anxiety. The patient has delayed it and delayed it, while he struggles along with the situation. Admitting that you're unable to resolve a life problem on your own, that you'll have to address it with a stranger, can be a daunting prospect.

A patient is seeking first and foremost understanding. Whether in therapy or not, each of us ultimately wants our life narrative to be heard. Whether it's someone wanting to share her rage at her husband's infidelity; a person isolated and in the throes of hopelessness who writes a suicide note; or a serial killer who eventually feels compelled to describe his horrific crimes; we all desire for at least one other fellow human being to hear our story and understand our motivations.

A patient is seeking acceptance. The slightest whiff of judgment will taint a therapeutic relationship. The therapist must have a very high tolerance for dealing with attitudes, behaviors, even lifestyles that he does not personally endorse. If he struggles with this, it behooves him--and is in his patient's best interest--to either do some work in therapy himself regarding his discomfort, or to make a referral to another therapist.

Most patients are seeking some specific means for effecting change in their lives. For all but a few, gone are the days when an individual can spend an hour a day, four to five days a week, on a therapist's couch. The vast majority of today's patients come in with a specific problem or problems. Pursuing self-actualization in therapy is a luxury that few can afford. To that end, as a new patient and I wrap up our intake session, I help them formulate and prioritize their goals for therapy. The question might be something like, "What would you like to be different in your life as a result of coming here?"

Finally, patients frequently need what I call a "takeaway". This can be something as specific as an "assignment" to journal, to chart behavior (e.g., eating, exercise), to take turns planning special events with a spouse, to read certain portions of a book or listen to a podcast, to contact an estranged family member, to think about their goals at work. You get the point. A small task or bit of information at the end of a session can reinforce the work done in the session and enhance the patient's sense that she has gained something positive and concrete from her work in therapy.

The Intimate Hour (Part I)

The process of psychotherapy is as different as each therapist-patient combination. The chemistry between patient and therapist is undeniable and plays a key role in the process. My approach has been to address each patient as an unfolding life story, with its own unique narrative, and not as a diagnostic exemplar. As we work together, I listen for and identify recurrent themes, with their moments of triumph, as well as depths of despair; with their areas of strength and resilience, and their places of weakness and flagging hope.

As a therapist, my job is to assist the patient in writing a new chapter in his narrative. Perhaps his past has been marked by repeated failures at valued tasks. Perhaps her undertakings in life have been tinged by fear and self-doubt. The therapist is a companion on the patient's journey of self-discovery and healing.

As the companion on the patient's journey, I look at the elements of the patient's life as the pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope. When the kaleidoscope is held in one way, one picture emerges. However, when the patient rotates the kaleidoscope, a different picture comes into view. And with that different picture come new possibilities. New ways of understanding what has gone before in one's life and what could lie ahead. And this is where the therapist brings her experience and psychotherapeutic tools to bear.

Endless Tears

My husband and I are on our way to the north Georgia mountains to spend yet another gorgeous fall weekend with some dear friends. As my husband took a call from a fellow racer, I gazed off at the exquisite color of the leaves. Something along the side of the road caught my eye. It was a roadside memorial. Someone had taken their last breath at that very spot. A chill ran down my spine.

It was a cross made of red and white flowers, faded and graying. An immense sadness gripped me, thinking not only of the woman (judging from the color of the flowers) who had died there, but for the family and friends who had erected that small, poignant reminder of their lost loved one.

Whether she was young or old I'll never know. But somehow I imagined her to be in her early thirties. I imagined her mother, howling in anguish upon learning of the death of her daughter. I knew for a certainty that her life was forever changed in that moment. A mother myself, I can't fathom how she could continue another day without her beloved child.

We use the word "closure" so freely and so reassuringly in this culture. But closure is a lie. There is no such thing. Yes, as people like to remind us, life does go on, after a fashion. But it is never, ever the same. Emotional scar tissue begins to form around that raw, gaping wound. But the scar lives on, and often it aches like hell.

I couldn't stop imagining this woman's life after the loss of her daughter. Was she physically unable to get out of bed for days, weeks, even months? Did she lose her appetite and begin to wither away? Did she withdraw into the privacy of her home, away from the well-meaning, but painful, questions of friends and family?

How long was it before she felt she could begin to breathe again, to look around and see some small spot of beauty or comfort in the world? How long before that wracking, searing pain began to recede ever so slowly and she had a day here and there that, to the outside world, looked "normal"? For, mercifully, just as the flowers on the roadside cross have faded in the baking sun of the Georgia summer and the cold gray drizzle of winter, her unrelenting pain, though never absent, will also begin to fade.

The Holidays: Blessing or Curse?

It's that glorious time of year again. The heat of summer has abated (this was Georgia's hottest summer on record), and the light is changing along with the leaves. The calendar's pace seems to accelerate, each day passing faster and faster. As I schedule time with clients, family, and friends, the amount of available time seems to mysteriously dwindle.

Not that many years ago, when my children returned to school the middle of each August, a sort of mad rush toward the holidays would begin. With my girls gone during much of the day, I began planning Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations. I began compiling gift lists based on hints dropped here and there, as well as observation of what my daughters seemed most interested in at the time, along with gift ideas that I thought would surprise, fascinate, inspire, or guide them. I planned elaborate menus for family dinners and dinner parties for sixty!

My elder daughter was home sick one day early in the school year. Over a lunch of chicken noodle soup and crackers, the subject of Christmas came up. We played a Windham Hill holiday CD as we chatted. One of the tracks had a rather Mexican flair, and we began imagining what a Mexican Christmas party would look like. We brainstormed about menus, decorations, and music. We were off and running with the idea.

My daughter was well enough for school the next day, but I kept returning to our lunchtime conversation. I decided to turn that vision of a Mexican Christmas party into a holiday reality. Over the next couple of months, I made hundreds of tissue paper flowers and yarn ojos de dios ("eye of God") to decorate Christmas trees and grace earthenware pots filled with tiny twinkling lights. I bought small chimineas and Mexican crèches. I purchased all sorts of linens in various shades of red and green, as well as vast quantities of votives and other types of candles. In other words, I transformed my home into a cozy suburban Mexican restaurant. We planned the musical selections and an extensive menu. We made nametags and ensured that everyone on the guest list would know at least one other person.

The evening went off without a hitch, everything as planned, and people thoroughly enjoyed themselves and the somewhat unconventional Christmas celebration. Our months of preparation paid off beautifully. As a result, I felt emboldened to plan other large-scale events and throw myself into months of cooking and decorating. These events were a labor of love for me, but eventually the "labor" part of the process came to loom large. While my children enjoyed the end products of my labors, I wasn't so sure about my then husband. His actions made it clear that he resented getting pulled into the process. I couldn't really blame him. After all, these shindigs were my idea and I didn't consult him about them, other than to check to see if he'd be in town that evening.

Years later, after my children were grown and had left the home and I had relocated to Georgia to start a new life, time didn't permit me to plan and host these events. After all, I was either teaching or seeing clients. And space was a factor, as well. I had downsized my home and was operating in a much smaller kitchen. I found myself going through a period of mourning my bygone entertaining diva days. I even felt guilty that I had done it for my family before, but wasn't able to do it for my beloved new husband. Frankly, he was probably relieved, knowing that I'd be preoccupied with my preparations and in a state of high anxiety.

I went through a few transitional years during which I did feel guilty about not serving up entirely homemade dishes at Thanksgiving and Christmas. I began purchasing pre-packaged holiday meals at my local grocery. To my surprise, they often rivaled my own recipes. They weren't inexpensive, but the really lovely part of finally giving myself permission to go this route was that it freed up several days before each holiday to spend with my husband and with visiting friends and relatives. This became a gift I gave to myself and them, the gift of time and loving attention.

As you prepare for your holidays this year--whatever you celebrate--perhaps a few moments of reflection on what you truly value for yourself and your family are in order. Are the holidays a time of anxiety and stress over all you need to get done, or are they occasions for reconnecting with loved ones and sharing yourself generously with them? As we approach these sacred times this year, I wish you the joys of togetherness and contentment with the blessings in your life.

The New "Normal"?

In my clinical practice, I see couples struggling with various aspects of their marriage. It may be sex, money, infidelity, childrearing, communication, you name it. For many couples, by the time they make the decision to seek therapy, significant damage has already been done to the relationship. Highly toxic attitudes and patterns of interaction may have developed which make it extremely difficult to pull the marriage back from the brink of dissolution. And so some of these couples end up divorcing.

As a therapist, my task then becomes helping them navigate the process of divorce with as little emotional damage as possible. If there are children, this involves helping them forge a plan for coparenting that keeps the best interests of the children front and center. Even when there is significant animosity between the ex-spouses, emotions must be managed so that parents are responsible and cooperative caretakers. The children's needs always come first.

Another therapeutic task is helping the partners to begin to utilize the divorce process as a vehicle for personal transformation. Yes, divorce feels like a tragedy to many people. It can lead to feelings of depression, lowered self-esteem, even worthlessness and hopelessness. But, like all life crises, it holds the potential to help us discover new or hitherto untapped aspects of ourselves. For instance, if one has been financially dependent on a spouse, divorce may force us to become resourceful and self-sufficient. If one has never lived alone, it may require that we learn to tolerate solitude and loneliness.

There are a number of common emotional responses to divorce. The partner who wants the divorce may feel an overwhelming sense of relief. For the partner who wants instead to save the marriage, feelings can range from anger to fear and anxiety to depression. An almost universal response to divorce is the sense that one has failed at something that was meaningful, a major life task, as well as a primary source of one's identity.

It's common for those who've gone through a divorce to view a previous marriage as "failed". After all, the " 'til death do us part" clearly didn't work, did it? We rarely marry with the thought that we'll divorce. Most of us still hold to the fairy tale ideal of "happily ever after". This may carry us through the stress of wedding planning and the honeymoon. The real test of the marriage begins the day after the honeymoon ends, however. The newlywed couple now begins to settle into daily life. Stresses and strains of jobs, finances, and in-laws can quickly take their toll. The newlyweds may find themselves arguing and unable to resolve conflict.

While at any given time, more than half of us are in a first marriage, a second marriage is not uncommon. Approximately forty-three percent of all first marriages end in divorce within the first fifteen years, but seventy-five percent of those people will go on to remarry, usually within the first three years after a divorce. An interesting fact is that, for most of this country's history, remarriage occurred after a spouse had died. By the late 1980's, less than ten percent of those who remarried did so because they had lost a spouse.

This certainly lines up with what I observe in my clinical practice, in which it's not all that rare these days to see a couple, one of whom is in a second or third marriage, and the other one in a third or fourth marriage. Given the prevalence of divorce and remarriage in our culture, perhaps it's time to reconsider what "normal" means in the context of marriage. Our ideal, for many years, has been monogamy--one man and one woman (please note that the question of gay and lesbian marriage is a different topic) for life. Of course, this often takes place after an extensive period of dating numerous other people until we find the "right" one. The expectation is that we will then settle down and be sexually and emotionally faithful to our spouse.

The subject of divorce, infidelity, and why monogamy seems so fragile in this society is a vast subject and requires attention in a separate piece. But the reality is that, while we continue to pay lip service to monogamy, many of us will end our first marriages and enter into a second marriage--perhaps even a third and a fourth--as time passes. As a culture, we're still devoted to the institution of marriage and the ideal of total, eternal commitment. We still believe we can "make a go of it" with another person, that this time we've found the right one. Statistics tell a different story. The odds of second and subsequent marriages lasting decrease with each new marriage.

So, we hold onto the hope that our marriage will last forever. And, if both partners give it their very best effort and cherish the relationship, it probably will. However, for approximately one-half of us, something goes awry. We get tired of working on the marriage, we begin leading parallel lives, we get careless with outside relationships and an affair develops, and so on. The outcome is divorce and, in many cases, remarriage. We tend to refer to this pattern, somewhat tongue in cheek, as "serial monogamy". And perhaps this is the new "normal" for love and marriage, American style.

Jeanette Sliwinski: Broken Dreams

While pounding the treadmill this morning, I scrolled through my TV guide and came across the program, "Snapped". A long-time true crime and mystery buff, I figured this would be as good a means of distracting myself from the tedium of exercising as anything else. This episode featured the story of Jeanette Sliwinski, a young woman whose life came into sharp public focus on July 14, 2005, when she took the lives of three innocent people in an apparent attempt to end her own life. Driving at over 90 mph, she slammed her red Mustang into the back of a Honda Civic waiting at a red light. John Glick and Michael Dahlquist likely never knew what hit them. Doug Meis, however, lived for several hours after the dreadful event. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jeanette's story is a tragedy from a number of perspectives. The families and friends of her victims will forever be deprived of their companionship, their smiles, and their unfolding life stories. The world will never know what they might have gone on to accomplish. But Jeanette's story, too, is sad beyond words. A withdrawn, socially awkward child who seemed uncomfortable in her own skin, she managed to "reinvent" herself during high school into a physically striking young woman. And her appearance became her identity and sense of self.

Jeanette worked as a stripper (perhaps as early as high school, by some accounts) and a lingerie model to help finance her college education. In 2002, she and her boyfriend moved to Los Angeles, where she dreamed of becoming a supermodel. Over time, however, she found work only as a trade show model, considered to be the lowest rung of the ladder in the world of modeling. It was also during this time that Jeanette's boyfriend broke up with her. Her hopes for career and romance dashed, she unhappily returned home to live with her parents.

By all accounts, Jeanette's mental health was tenuous during this time. She was treated for an unspecified mental illness with a variety of medications. She was also allegedly self-medicating with herbal preparations and using alcohol and club drugs. Her mental status became the central issue in her trial, with her attorneys offering an insanity defense.

While watching her story unfold, I couldn't help but wonder how things might have turned out differently if Jeanette's modeling dreams had come true and if her relationship with her boyfriend had continued. Would she have found the happiness she apparently thought that life would bring her? Would she have gone on to live a productive life instead of making headlines for killing three people? Or, what if she had anchored her ultimate life dreams to something less fleeting and superficial than physical appearance? Clearly, the world of modeling makes stringent demands in terms of diet and exercise, a willingness to tolerate being objectified, and cutthroat competition.

I contemplated the role of personal dreams in all our lives. They start early for many of us--veterinarian, lawyer, teacher, doctor, artist. They are the point on our own personal horizon that identifies us and keeps us moving forward during good times and bad. As children, these dreams remain largely that--fantasies that provide us with comfort, escape, and a sense of direction in life.

As we move into our teen years and begin to have some control over the realization of our dreams, a number of things can happen. Depending on the clarity of our dreams, opportunities for exploration, support from parents and teachers, and the overall level of psychological health of our environment, we may well make significant progress toward accomplishing our goals. We can seek out opportunities for volunteer work, take music or art lessons, join a sports team, etc. These opportunities allow us to assess how much of a match a particular activity is for our personality and our individual preferences.

During this time, many of us essentially put our dreams on hold. We don't take steps to explore them, even though we may continue to identify them as personal goals. This may be a function of our level of motivation, or we may get somewhat sidetracked by the peer scene that is so compelling during the high school years. Then there are those young people whose dreams wither due to lack of nurturance. Or perhaps their dreams are actively discouraged or even ridiculed during the adolescent years. Parents may exert a negative effect on pursuit of dreams. he social environment in school, as well, may prove overwhelming for some students.

At any rate, whether due to lack of opportunity to explore different activities, lack of parental or teacher support, or serious difficulties in psychosocial or psychosexual development, one's dreams can become derailed. The future one had envisioned turns into day after day tedium, or, worse, a nightmare, as in the case of Jeanette Sliwinski.

There is no ultimate psychological "safety net". Teachers, guidance counselors, fellow students, parents, and friends can all strive to be alert to individuals who appear to be unduly struggling with life. Jeanette Sliwinski had already received mental health services and was scheduled to be seen on the very day that she snuffed out three lives, ostensibly in an attempt to take her own life.

I can't help but wonder how things might have turned out differently for her, John Glick, Michael Dahlquist, and Doug Meis had her life dreams been different, or at least nurtured differently, and had she accepted the harsh reality that few women make it to the top in the world she had chosen for herself. Unlike the victims of her incredibly selfish act, Jeanette Sliwinski will get a second chance at life. She was paroled after serving less than half her sentence. She may even be eligible for a driver's license this fall. One can only wonder what her dreams for herself are now and how they will impact those around her.

Five Steps to Affair Recovery

Have you or your partner had an affair? Have you tried to "get past it", but just can't? As a psychologist, I witness couples struggling to put their marriages back together. The betrayed wife, for example, may decide she has to monitor her husband's every move, and he may agree, in his guilt and his desperation to reassure her, that it's OK to do that. Some husbands have even told me that, if their wife is so angry that she wants to physically assault them, they're willing to tolerate that. They feel they deserve that for the pain they've caused her.

Many couples struggling with the aftermath of infidelity want very badly to repair the marriage. After all, they have history together (often decades), they are financial and household partners, and they likely have children together. And, in spite of an affair, they may still love each other very deeply. In other words, they have a lot of themselves and their lifetimes invested in the relationship.

One common mistake that couples make is waiting to get help. As with other types of psychological and relational distress, they may think that if they ignore it or try to cope with it on their own, it may seem a bit less real or serious than if they admit they need professional help. Or perhaps they don't want to spend the time or money. Unfortunately, by the time some couples come to the conclusion that they can't fix the relationship on their own, it may be too late. Too much damage may have been done. The distrust which follows an affair may have become too deeply entrenched; negative communications may have become the only messages conveyed; and dysfunctional ways of thinking about and behaving toward each other may have become habits which are hard to break. In other words, the couple has become "stuck" in a destructive cycle of anger, punishment, distrust, and misery.

But there is some good news in all of this. Couples who are willing to reach out to a psychotherapist who is both knowledgeable and skilled at working with infidelity issues can often find hope and healing. While there are no guarantees, they often find they can learn new, more authentic and more effective, ways of communicating with each other. They can work toward rebuilding a feeling of emotional safety and security for the betrayed spouse. They can work toward understanding how the affair came about in the first place and what role it played in their marriage. And they can develop a new vision for their marriage and their future.

There are five critical steps in recovering from an affair. While the steps tend to follow a predictable sequence, they do overlap, so that a couple may be working on more than one task or step at a time. The first step is REMORSE on the part of the partner who had the affair. Remorse, in this context, is a deep, distressing feeling of guilt over the pain one's affair has caused one's spouse. This can come about in two ways. A spouse may discover an affair and confront the participating spouse about it. Or the spouse who had the affair feels tremendous guilt, worries that the husband or wife will learn of the affair, and divulges it to his or her partner. One's remorse over one's actions must be openly and sincerely communicated. You can't expect your husband or wife to know how truly sorry you are for the pain you've caused him and for the damage you've done to your marriage without communicating it. And your remorse must be sincere. If not, you run the risk of making matters worse. Anything less than a genuine, heartfelt apology will merely wound your partner more deeply and make you appear even less trustworthy.

REGRET is related to remorse, but is subjectively a very different phenomenon. Regret is complex and, at the risk of offending some readers, I'll say that it may not be absolutely necessary for rebuilding a marriage. Therefore, I'm not treating it as a separate step. Remember that remorse is the first step and is that deep, heartfelt sorrow for the pain and distress you inflict on a partner when you have an affair.

The role of regret in affair recovery is complicated, and may actually be the most difficult part of it. It implies wishing, on some level, that you hadn't had the affair, wishing that you could undo past actions. And this is the hardest part for some individuals. Yes, they are sorrowful about the pain they've caused a spouse and the devastation they've wreaked on their marriage. But they may have very fond memories of the affair or the affair partner. The affair likely served some important function for them at the time. After all, people have affairs because they feel good--at least, in the beginning. We'll look at the reasons people engage in affairs in another post, but suffice it to say for now that it's often a combination of the exhilaration, the novelty, and the ways it makes us feel desirable. An affair offers a heady cocktail of emotions and experiences, and even after it has ended, the participants may be loathe to relinquish the memories, in much the same way one might not want to part with a cherished photo or keepsake which connects us to some part of our past and provides comfort or joy.

It's precisely because of the positive aspect of affairs that it can be so difficult for some people to feel regret. They may feel remorse, want to repair the marriage, and have absolutely no intention of recommencing the affair. But they are reluctant or unwilling to try to give up the positive feelings they have about the affair or the affair partner. They may even mourn the loss of the affair and, on some level, blame the spouse for it ending. This mindset, while perhaps understandable, complicates the tasks a couple must complete in order to repair their marriage. It suggests that the spouse who had the affair is willing to devote most--but not all--of himself to that process and to the new relationship. Thus, those marriages in which the spouse who had the affair can genuinely come to feel regret for it probably stand the greatest likelihood of restoration.

Both partners must RECOMMIT to the marriage. This stage may sound extremely simple. You either decide--or don't--that you intend to work on rebuilding your marriage. And, in a certain sense, it is that simple. To recommit involves an act of will, a decision. While you will never forget how your spouse betrayed you, you make a decision to forgive--based on your partner's remorse and your own level of motivation--and to agree to work on repairing the relationship. There are no guarantees in the area of affair recovery, but recommitment is not a partial or "if, then maybe" process. Both partners must fully and unequivocally dedicate themselves to participating in the work of repair.

While recommitment to the marriage is essential for relationship repair, both partners may not reach that decision at the same time. For instance, a wife who has had an affair and terminated it may know immediately that she wants to stay in her marriage and make it work. That may have been the determining factor in her ending the affair. Her husband, however, may feel so betrayed that he needs time to consider his alternatives and contemplate whether he can ever trust her again. Or, upon learning of her husband's affair, a wife may state from the outset that she wants to do whatever it takes to keep the family intact. Her husband may still have positive feelings for his affair partner, however, and be conflicted about what he wants.

The point is that recommitment by both partners is necessary for recovery from an affair to take place, but it may begin at different times. But only with full commitment to the process can the other steps effectively begin.

RESTORATION of trust is the "nuts and bolts" phase which involves the couple sitting down and regularly evaluating and planning the concrete steps they need to take to help the betrayed partner begin to feel more emotionally secure. The details and the conditions that emerge from tis stage will be different for each couple, but they might involve things like an elaborate coordination of times to communicate with each other, whether by phone, email, or text. If the partner who had the affair travels frequently on business, it might involve the betrayed partner calling the hotel rather than her husband's cell phone. A couple may decide to meet for lunch of coffee two or three times a week, just to take time out of their busy work days, to check in and emotionally reconnect with each other. If the spouse who had the affair must work with the former affair partner, it might involve spelling out in detail the conditions under which the two work together; for example, no lunches or dinners alone, no traveling together, no communication about personal lives, with the betrayed spouse checking emails and phone messages in order to feel comfortable that the arrangement is being adhered to.

The question that invariably arises for couples, particularly for the spouse who had the affair, is how long this kind of monitoring needs to go on. Unfortunately, there's no single answer to that question. Each couple is different. For some it may be only a few weeks, for others it may last up to a year. There are a few factors, however, that determine how protracted this part of the process of healing may be. First, there's the baseline level of trust which the betrayed partner tends to feel in intimate relationships. If his expectations about fidelity and trust have been violated before and he tends to feel emotionally fragile in this area, the process will likely take longer than if he generally felt secure in his relationships. Second, there's the question of opportunity for renewing the affair (or for a new one to develop). That is, if the partner who had the affair travels frequently, spends much of his time away from home, or in the company of individuals who aren't respectful of his marriage, there is enhanced opportunity for extramarital involvement. And third, the intentions of the former affair partner need to be considered. If she is at all still motivated to pursue the affair, extra vigilance on the part of both spouses will need to be exercised; for example, they may need to send a jointly written message that she is to have no further contact with the spouse who participated in the affair.

My response to couples who ask the "how long" question is that your intuition will guide you in this area. At some point, the betrayed spouse will begin to feel that he can relax in this area, that he doesn't need to monitor his wife's activities so closely. He will feel more comfortable relying on her to truthfully account for herself, and the time and energy spent in hypervigilance will begin to feel too costly. It's time to adopt a new baseline for communication and accountability and to get on with things.

Note: I always address with the couples the reality that the decision to trust again involves risk. The spouse who betrayed you once could betray you again. Keeping in touch with your spouse via cell phone doesn't guarantee that he is where he says he is or with whom he says he is. This is where your risk tolerance and risk aversion come into play.

The next step is REWRITING the narrative of your marriage to include the affair. Each of us has a "story" about our life that we tell ourselves and others. For example, "As a kid, I had asthma and couldn't play sports like the other kids". "I was a nerd in high school". "I was a jock and my world revolved around sports; I felt valued and valuable only when my team was winning". "I was painfully shy and had very few friends as I was growing up". "I was an only child and envied kids from large families". "I was the middle child and felt eclipsed by my first-born sibling and by the "baby" of the family--it was hard to get my parents' attention". "When my parents divorced, I was sure it was because of something I had done; ever since, I've worked very hard to be 'good' in relationships". And so on.

We also have stories about our marriages that include how we met, what we first thought and felt about each other, and milestones in the relationship (for example, our first argument, the first time we had sex, meeting our in-laws, our first "real" job, etc.). These stories are important narratives about who we are, choices we've made, obstacles we've overcome and those we still struggle with, and who we aspire to be, both individually and as a couple. For example, the guy who seemed like just a geek actually has an irresistible sense of humor. Or, you've struggled with self-esteem issues your whole life, and the girl you met in college makes you feel like there's nothing you can't do. Or, you only feel like you can interact with your wife's coworkers at a cocktail party when you've had a few drinks before leaving home. Or, you love your wife and children dearly, can't imagine a better partner, but you can't stop thinking about other women in sexual ways and wondering what it would be like to be with them.

When there has been an affair, these narratives--both those about ourselves as individuals and those about our marriage--need to be rewritten. The new narrative needs to incorporate the facts of the affair--who, what, when, where, and how. In other words, the narrative needs to account for who the affair partner was, how you met, and how you managed to conduct the affair. Most importantly, it needs to account for why. And this is the part that may take some time. Frequently, a betrayed spouse wants most of all to understand why the affair occurred. She may ask, "How could you do this to me? What was missing in our marriage? What did she have that I didn't? Why did you feel you had to go outside the marriage? The reality is that the participating partner may not initially understand what motivated him to engage in the affair.

This is some of the most difficult work in the therapeutic process--exploring why. In working with my clients, I usually frame the question in terms of "What made you vulnerable to an affair?" It's important to emphasize throughout the process of affair recovery that understanding and vulnerability are not a "pass". The spouse who had the affair must, from the outset, take responsibility for her actions. Nothing in a marriage ever justifies an affair. But understanding what was occurring in one's life, one's partner's life, and the condition of the marriage at the time is important for reconstructing the narrative and for making a future affair less likely.

So, the "why" question addresses issues such as how the participating partner was feeling about himself at the time (for example, was his career going well? did he feel physically attractive?); how was he feeling about his marriage and his family (did he feel loved and desired by his wife? did he feel connected emotionally to is kids, or were they totally involved in their own worlds of school, friends and extracurricular activities?); how was he feeling about his future (was he merely anticipating more of the same drudgery, or did he have a feeling of hopefulness and excitement about things to come?).

"Why" also looks into the qualities and the behaviors of the betrayed spouse before and when the affair commenced. For example, had he become obsessed with work or some outside activity? Had she seriously neglected her physical fitness and appearance after the children were born? It also examines the state of the marriage before and when the marriage began. Was the sexual part of the marriage vibrant and satisfying? Were you and your spouse able to communicate effectively about problems in the marriage and arrive at mutually acceptable solutions? Was there a sense of optimism about the future? Did you look forward to coming home at the end of the work day, or was work an escape from the routine and the antagonism of home life?

Doing the hard work of "why" is what allows couples to make sense of what is, to most, incomprehensible. We need a way to write into our individual and our couple narrative what few of us anticipate and from which we struggle to recover.

RENEWAL is in many ways an extension of rewriting the narrative of the marriage. When couples initially commit to each other, they generally have some sort of vision for the future, whether it's explicit or not. They may have talked about building a home on a mountaintop, sailing the Caribbean, raising six children, hiking the Appalachian Trail, working to improve literacy among inner-city children, founding their own software company and retiring by age forty. Whatever you can imagine, someone dreams it. The common denominator here is shared values, a jointly cherished vision for the future, and the desire and willingness to work together to make the dream a reality. In point of fact, the dream often remains just that--a dream. But it nevertheless functions as a common point on a couple's life horizon, a point which unifies them and keeps them focused on their life together and their commitment to each other.

When one of the members of the couple has engaged in an affair, this vision is threatened, if not outright destroyed. The participating partner's commitment to the vision, even to the future of the relationship, is in question. If the couple is able to navigate the earlier steps of the process--to deal with the depth of remorse, to recommit to a future together, to work out the specifics of rebuilding trust and security in the marriage, to understand their story as a couple and as individuals in a way that accounts for the affair and why it happened--then they will likely have the emotional energy and motivation to create a new vision for their future.

Here is the where the phrase "older, but wiser" is so very apropros. We begin our most intimate relationships with hopes and dreams. These guide us in our day to day activities, but are also impacted by unforeseen forces in the environment--individuals who come unexpectedly into our lives, the challenges of illness and financial reversal--the list goes on. While none of us plans to have to cope with the aftermath of an affair, the reality is that many of us will. We may be the participating partner, or we may be the betrayed spouse. The good news is that there are knowledgeable and skillful professionals to help guide you and your partner in the recovery process. If you are willing to commit yourself to honesty and effort in therapy, an affair does not have to spell the end of your marriage. Many couples have succeeded in building a new relationship, one grounded in transparency and rededication to a shared future.

The Perfect Couple

I'll never forget that day. The stay-at-home mom of an infant and a toddler, I was part of a small, but vital network of other moms in my neighborhood. We arranged play dates, trips to local parks, and other outings which were fun for our children and emotionally nourishing for us, all former professional women. It was also not uncommon for us to give each other a call and arrange something impromptu, or even occasionally drop by just to see if each others' children were awake and interested in companionship.

I settled my young daughters in their double stroller and headed down the street to a good friend's house. She was the mother of identical twin daughters. She and her husband were in many ways the envy of the neighborhood. They were our local "Ken and Barbie". Both were extremely attractive. Jen had carried her twins to full term and almost immediately regained her pre-pregnancy figure. Steve was an up and coming executive with a beverage distribution company. Their house was tastefully and expensively furnished, they both drove luxury cars, and they had an active social life. Jen had a sitter every Friday so she could shop, get a massage and manicure, whatever struck her fancy that day. They threw the best parties in the neighborhood. On top of it all, they were so NICE. It was infuriating. I could find nothing to dislike about them, except perhaps their apparent perfection.

We all know these folks, right? They're attractive and well-dressed. They've got great jobs and drive cool cars. They have a good house or apartment and have impeccable taste in their furnishings. If they have started their family, their children are adorable and, for the most part, well-behaved. They take interesting vacations. They get along so well. They're the perfect couple. And, without meaning to, they make the rest of us feel less than adequate. They seem to have it all together, to accomplish everything perfectly and effortlessly.

Well, here's the rest of the story of my perfect couple. I rang the doorbell that day and waited patiently. After all, I hadn't called ahead of time to let Jen know I'd be stopping by. Time passed and there was no reply. I rang the bell again and waited. Still no reply. This was before the advent of the ubiquitous cell phone, so I couldn't call Jen unless I headed back home. Finally, I began to knock on the door. Having been raised to be a "nice, polite girl", I didn't even consider peeking through the sidelights that framed the front door.

But when Jen didn't respond to either my knocks or the doorbell, I became very curious. I peered through the narrow window which looked into the expansive front hall, the kitchen and the breakfast room. I was shocked by the sight. The floor of the normally immaculate house was littered with toys, clothing, and household items, as far as the eye could see. The Jen I knew would never allow her house to be in such a condition, and would certainly never chance the neighbors seeing it like that.

As I surveyed the scene, I became alarmed that perhaps one of the children had been injured or suddenly fallen ill and Jen had rushed to the hospital. I looked through the windows of the garage and saw her car. Clearly, she hadn't gone anywhere. Now I was becoming outright scared. Perhaps she had passed out.

I turned the stroller around and headed back up the street to the home of another good friend, Marci. I told her what I had seen. She popped her young son into his stroller and we headed back to Jen's house. This time, I banged on the door with my fist and we both called her name at the top of our lungs. Nothing. I tried the front door. To my surprise, it opened. Now I was frankly terrified. Had someone broken into the house?

Without thinking, I marched into the house, Marci remaining on the doorstep with the children. I walked through the house, calling Jen's name. Again, nothing. This time, I opened the closets, fearing the worst. I entered Jen's and Steve's enormous master bedroom suite. My feeling of being an intruder was overriden by my fear for my friend and her daughters. I went so far as to open the frosted glass door which covered the tub and shower. Thankfully, no horrific sight greeted me.

After canvassing the house and the garage, including Jen's BMW, I joined Marci and the children on the doorstep. We decided we had no choice but to call Steve, who was out of town on business. We trudged back up the steep hill to Marci's house to look for Steve's office number. I kept the children, who were now becoming restless, occupied while Marci made the call. Marci left a message with Steve's administrative assistant and we waited. While the children played in the huge upstairs rec room, Marci and I sat solemnly, pondering what might have happened to Jen and the girls. Time dragged on.

Finally, the phone rang. It was Steve. I watched the expression on Marci's face change from one of grave concern to puzzlement to irritation. After saying goodbye to Steve, she put the phone down and turned to me, saying "You'll never believe this". Here's the rest of the story: Steve had headed to Orlando on business. While there, his schedule had changed and he ended up with a day with no appointments. On the spur of the moment, he called Jen and suggested she and the girls join him for a day at Disney World. She grabbed a few things for the three of them, called a cab, and headed to the airport. So, while Marci and I were fearing that Jen and her daughters had perhaps been kidnapped--or worse--the family was having a wonderful time in the Magic Kingdom, strolling down Main Street, getting Mickey's autograph, and enjoying the parades.

That day was an eye opener for me. I learned some important things about my dear friend, Jen. One was that, like all the rest of us with young children, after a while, cooking, cleaning, laundry, changing diapers, running errands, providing what we hoped was just the right amount of intellectual/social/emotional stimulation for our children, not to mention trying to have some sort of relationship with our husbands, catches up with you. Fatigue sets in and something has to give. Chaos seems to engulf the house and you're not sure how you'll ever restore order. The other, and perhaps more important lesson, was that Jen could so easily fail to anticipate that her friends would notice her absence and be very concerned about her; that she could dash off so quickly that she left her home in disarray and unsecured.

That day, I took Jen and Steve off the pedestal which they'd occupied in my mind. I still admired them for the way they seemed to make everything look so effortless. But I now knew something of their private lives, when they weren't on display. So, while nature may have graced them with good looks and intelligence, like the rest of us, they went about their own lives behind closed doors. And, when company was coming, so to speak, just like the proverbial duck, they were calm and collected on the surface, but paddling like hell underneath. The perfect couple was, after all, merely mortal.

The Good Wife

Yesterday was one of "those" days, fragmented and choppy. I felt like I didn't have time to fully devote myself to things that needed my attention. Patients in the morning, errands in the afternoon, and a dinner guest coming that night. The errands were what I resented. I wanted to catch up on paperwork, do some online research, and spend some time on my blog.

This feeling was by no means new to me. For years, I've somewhat begrudgingly run to the grocery, the bank, the drycleaner, etc. These little trips have always felt like distractions from some larger purpose in my life. They were annoyances--necessary to the running of a household, but nonetheless irritating. As I contemplated this old pattern and simultaneously fine tuned my "to do" list for the afternoon, I took a deep breath. I came to the realization that I do these things because this is what a "good wife" (and mother, during the years when I had children at home) does.

So, just what is a good wife, anyway? I immediately thought of the classic description in Proverbs 31:10-31. If you distill out the behaviors of the good wife, here are some of the things you find. The good wife:

Is trusted by her husband

Is honored and praised by her children

Is hardworking and sees to the economic well-being of her household

Is a good steward of her family's resources

Cares for those less fortunate

Behaves in such a way that her husband is honored in the community

Is wise

Is righteous

From this description, we get a picture of someone who exemplifies the religious principle of servanthood. Now, don't get the idea that a "servant" in this sense is someone who is self-defeating or even masochistic, who is into self-denial. No, servanthood merely implies a healthy recognition and honoring of the needs of others who depend on you. It implies a voluntary humbling of self and temporarily placing one's needs in a secondary position to those of the people who rely on us.

And servanthood has its own set of rewards, once you grasp the concept. Whatever delay of self-gratification is involved is more than offset by witnessing the positive effects of our efforts in the lives of others. So, for example, while spending time in the grocery may not be my favorite activity--and putting the groceries away once I arrive home most definitely is not!--I do enjoy cooking. And I very much enjoy serving my husband, who has also worked a long day, a meal which he enjoys and which nourishes both his body and his soul. I enjoy seeing him put on a freshly cleaned suit and head off to work looking professional and taking pride in his appearance. I know that makes a difference in how he functions and in how others react to him. And, occasionally, I like to surprise him at his office with hot coffee and a donut. There are days when he has back-to-back meetings and he can't get away even for a minute. His smile when he sees me at the office door is ample reward for me!

So, on those days when I get a little frustrated at the time it takes to run errands, time I feel might be better spent handling work-related matters, I remind myself that these are part of the rhythm of life, just as the work I love so much is. There is truly a time and a season for all things. When I go about my errands with a glad heart, I am more than rewarded by the appreciation of those I love and serve. And, as a bonus, I eventually return to my work feeling refreshed, renewed, and full of creative energy.

Finding Contentment at the Mall

I hate to admit it, but I used to be a mall walker. You know, one of those folks who don their athletic shoes and take over the mall early in the morning, often in packs. Well, I walked solo, but still felt the shame and stigma of being identified with those other folks. I should have been outside, pounding the pavement and sweating. But that was the whole point of mall walking. You don't have to sweat (unless you want to), the "pavement" is nice and even, no rocks, no potholes, no code orange air quality alerts, no dog poop to dodge. So, for me it served its purpose at the time.

The downside of mall walking was the emotional sterility of the environment. You see the same things in the store windows for weeks on end, you see the same people, and then there's that "mall aroma". You know what I mean. Next time you're in a mall, breathe deeply and try to figure out what you're smelling. Is it all that fabric from the clothing stores, or do the property managers, at the behest of the mall owners, actually pump something into the air in order to manipulate your behavior, in this case, buying something? Like in Las Vegas, where the air in casinos is supposedly artificially oxygenated in order to keep you alert, enhance the effects of alcohol, and keep you throwing your money at lady luck. Or maybe that's just an urban legend.

So, I'd walk the mall, trying to keep up a heart-healthy pace, all the while scrutinizing the offerings in the store windows. It was hard not to look at many of them and think, "Wow, that would look great for the company Christmas party"; "This would be perfect for New Year's Eve dinner with my husband at that intimate restaurant up in the mountains"; or "This blouse is just what I need for work; I can wear it with so many things." You know the kind of thinking when you're trying to rationalize a purchase.

So many choices. So many possibilities for transforming myself. Or so I thought. It quickly became overwhelming. I pondered the level of desire for new "stuff" that I experienced while walking. It also seemed that many of the stores rotated new merchandise on roughly a three-week schedule. So, I thought, I buy something that I can't live without today, and three weeks later, there's something new in the window. What's that all about? Do so-called fashion trends really change that rapidly?

Well, in case you're wondering, I always resisted the temptation to go shopping after my walk, when the stores had opened. But as I continued to think about the experience of being in a mall, it dawned on me in a very powerful way that the entire mission of the stores is to generate discontent. Discontent, that is, with what you currently have. The stores have the "cure" for that. Buy this dress and you'll feel sexy. Buy these overpriced jeans and you'll know without a doubt that you're cool. Buy this $700 handbag and everyone will know that you are living large.

So, the whole point is to make you unhappy with what you currently own, which, in the world of the mall, equates to what you are. To plant the seed that, if you just buy this thing or that, you'll be happier. Life will be good again. That is, until the merchandise in the storefronts changes again. Really thinking about this seemed to relieve me of a huge burden. I could, if I chose, continue walking in the mall without experiencing this artificial discontent. I was fine, just as I was, without the new dress, jeans, or handbag.

I am, however, still wondering about "mall air".