(Originally posted January 2015)
The invisible elephant.
It’s been with John and I since the beginning.
Always there, bigger than life.
I am surprised I never ran into it before.
I could sense it, feel it, but could never touch it. If I got close, it would slip to the side, always out of grasp, just out of sight.
The elephant caused fights, lots of fights – only I didn’t know it was causing the fights. I thought it was me. I thought it was me all along. For twelve and a half years of marriage, I thought it was all me. The elephant caused me to question, to hate, to yell. It was annoying. It drove wedges. It hurt, but I didn’t know it. It created distance and disconnect. I struggled with it, never knowing what it was.
I was oblivious to what the elephant actually was until my husband told me all about it. I screamed, yelled, cried, and watched as this elephant became visible and stomped on our life, turning it to dust.
The elephant is everywhere – in every corner of the house, the clothes I fold for my husband, the letters he has written to me over the years, the lines on his face.
The elephant is visible now. Sometimes I am glad I can see it, other times the elephant causes me incomprehensible pain, sorrow, and despair.
There are no more secrets. I know every gritty detail of the elephant in the room. John, to his credit, has held nothing back.
The elephant is John’s addiction to pornography and sex.
Now I know.
January 7th, 2015 – the day the elephant became visible, crushed me, and took away the life I knew.
Little did the elephant know, I won’t go down without a fight. I will build myself up piece by piece.
I don’t know what will happen to my husband and I. We are both fighting this elephant with everything we have, but we are each fighting our own battle.
The invisible elephant…
is now visible.