By I have chosen to stay with my husband when he did something that everyone says you should leave after.
And I’m so glad I have done the work over the years to not give a shit about what other people think of me, of us. Because if I/we listened to everyone and everything we would never have experienced the love we have been blessed to experience up to this point.
And the reasons that I’ve chosen this life – to stay – being that one: I gave my fuckhead father 42 years when he deserved zero.
Two: one day when a friend called me about her relationship ending and she asked for my advice I said to her “to be honest I don’t know what it is like to be with a man who doesn’t take responsibility, who won’t go to the ends of the earth to fix what needs to be fixed or to have me feeling safe.”
And three: I’ve always lived with the belief that the depths of my shadows I visit and pain I experience gets to be experienced to that same level in love. Crazy as it may seem it’s gotten me through many days of my life and experience.
You ask Rory what he did and he will tell you point blank he fucked up and he will do whatever he needs to do so that it never happens again.
He has wrestled with the judgements and the comments from those around who have been told about the situation, gladly, because he knows it shouldn’t have happened and he’s embarrassed that it did.
And I own my part in it. I’m not a perfect person but I’m actually proud that I stood up for myself.
You might read this and think I’m stupid for believing him – but I’ve had 19 years of proof of the willingness to change, adapt, own and fix whatever has arisen. Find me another man willing to spend over $100k on his development to be the man his wife needs him to be. Most men just drown themselves in drugs and/or alcohol instead of doing the work or just plain out ignore what they did and hope their partner moves on and forgets about it too. And instead of getting better it gets worse.
That’s not how it works in our house.
Nobody could hate him more than he hates himself. I have witnessed him be broken because of this experience.
The funny thing is I don’t hate him. Maybe I’m so traumatized from the life I’ve lived that it’s just not possible for me to feel those feelings towards him.
Maybe we really are trauma bonded now like we have joked in the past.
Anyway – There are no excuses for what happened.
Maybe it was an exit door I chose not to take. Maybe it never was.
I can ‘why’ forever and a day.
But for me all that matters is Action. Ownership. Accountability. Processing. Feeling.
Throw all the daggers you like. I’m built for that shit.
He hates being put on show. As most men do I imagine. But there is no ownership and accountability if stuff is hidden in the shadows. And he chose a wife who shares her life online and doesn’t know how to be fake so stiff bickies for him 🤣
When you are a couple that everyone says they are inspired by, they value witnessing because we are always real, we show such love and devotion, it hits even deeper this level of fuck up and in a sense puts you off sharing the failures.
But then that is what makes us real. That is what makes our love what it is to others.
Even if that may have changed now after this. It doesn’t mean that we have changed who we are inside of it. And we don’t need anyone else’s approval to experience that.
Just because I’ve chosen to stay also doesn’t mean everyone should.
It’s funny because we both had this feeling of death before leaving for the US. The whole time I had been saying I didn’t want to go. The day before we flew out we arrived at the local Westfield to see a dead lorikeet on the ground. I looked at it and said that’s not a good sign. If you know me and birds you know how I think. Not that birds are bad signs I just knew this one was because it was a rainbow and if you know me you know how I love colours and rainbows. We talked about will kits. We both had this feeling. This intuition. Whatever you want to call it.
And in a sense we did die. The versions of us who left Australia are gone. And that fucking sucks. I keep saying why didn’t I trust my gut? Why did I go? Why couldn’t I have just stayed home in my happy little bliss bubble?
But that’s never been how my life has worked.
So the feelings of am I just not allowed to live the happy drama free life appear. The doom and gloom of my brain rot made its way to the surface. Old Shannii so easily reared her head. The one I had been saying I no longer remember what she’s like or how to relate to her. In 30 seconds she returned. It’s been 10 years and all it took was 30 Secomds. That’s scary.
But that reminds me of how far I truly have come. I didn’t succumb. And I’ve fought. I’ve fought so damn hard to be this woman.
To some it may seem like I don’t have the self worth I preach or don’t have the strength, but to me, knowing where I came from, I know how much I’ve grown. I know how hard I’ve fought. And to actually fight is not something I’ve usually done. I’m a double flight with a side of freeze and appease. As the saying goes a lover not a fighter but I’ll fight for what I love.
When you experience any form of violence from the one person in your whole entire life that was your safe space it’s breaks you. Even when you have experienced the same violence numerous times from others – it’s different because those people hadn’t earned your trust, they weren’t your safe space. They may have been family but they weren’t someone you had innate trust and respect for.
I don’t know what the future looks like. I never have and I never want to.
So I’ll just hold onto the love because that is the only thing that matters.
And I know that those who are meant to be on the ride with me, with us, will be there holding us as we navigate the path ahead.
Showing us what it looks like to have people in your corner, who will stand up and call you on your shit, but love you through it when they witness the lengths you are willing to go to, to be the person someone needs you to be.
It’s not about saying what he did was ok. It’s about holding him to account because he proves the man he is.
People make mistakes. People fuck up. Maybe to some this is a fuck up you can’t return from or even call a mistake. But they don’t know him like I do.
I don’t get people wrong. It’s a gift. I see through people day in and day out. I always give chances to prove me wrong but it’s rare that happens.
And not that I’m taking anything away from what happened but being with a woman who has been abused in the past is not an easy thing to do. He has done so much work with me and for me to help me heal from sexual assault that I know how his heart actually is.
He was the first person to help me start to see that I was a person worth knowing and loving.
I can hear the silly girl thoughts a mile away. People may think I’m tolerating something I shouldn’t be. But that is the last thing I’m doing.
I own my choices and fuck ups. As he owns his choices and fuck ups.
I’m not going to live in a perpetual state of ‘will I regret this’ though.
I’ve been choosing to live in the moment For a long time now and I’m not about to stop.
He’s on his journey of accountability and I’m on my journey of trusting myself and moving forward from something I never thought I would have to ever again.
It’s fucking hard but taking it day by day is the only way.
This weekend is our 15th wedding anniversary. 19 years we have been doing life together. In one minute everything changed. I had to decide whether I still wanted to celebrate or not. I’m still up in the air on that one…
Anyway – To you reading this I ask:
What if we stopped asking people why they stayed or why they left, and started asking what they need to feel safe, to heal, and to move forward?
What if someone else’s choice doesn’t have to make sense to you for you to respect their right to make it?
Can we believe in someone’s capacity to change without excusing the hurt they’ve caused, and allow people the space to decide for themselves what that looks like?
Have you ever judged someone for a choice you couldn’t understand, without knowing the full story, the history, or the heart behind it?
What if strength isn’t always walking away, and weakness isn’t always staying? What if the real strength is being honest with yourself about why you’re there and what needs to change?
How much more love could we give each other if we stopped assuming we knew what was best for someone else’s life?
What if we could hold people accountable for the hurt they’ve caused, while still allowing them the humanity to grow, change, and do better? And what if we could give people the same grace to make their own choices that we hope they’ll give us for ours?
Some questions to ponder ❤️
Xo S
