First of all, our vacation has been awesome. I'm incredibly sad that it will be ending too terribly soon, but it really has been amazing.
Several shades of amazing. With all sorts of surprises and goodies and everything wonderful.
But I want to talk about something else for a moment, and then I'll get on to the happy later (with my last post, I should probably start with the happy, but I won't. Because this is my house, and I do what I want!).
The other day, whilst on vacation, I entered into one of my sanctuaries-- the bookstore. My other slices of heaven include anywhere I'm running and the library-- so if someone can train me to be coordinated to run while reading, I'll be set (audiobooks, though lovely, do not count). The husband kept the kids so I could go in for a few minutes alone, which was a treat. Though I do adore my chitluns, being able to wander freely between the aisles without fear of someone taking a book down to rip (literally) through the pages, or knock over a display, or run like maniacs between the legs of some unsuspecting patron-- this was a treat indeed.
In perusing the aisles, I came across the self-improvement section. As this was a religiously affiliated bookstore, it did not surprise me to see some of the titles. They were separated into sections, including parenthood, faith, and fitness. There were titles on organization, and some on time management. When my eyes traveled over the marriage section, though, I saw some familiar titles-- ones I had purchased myself years ago-- and the grump monster stirred in my belly.
"How to Affair Proof Your Marriage."
There were several books on this very topic, and I glanced up to make sure I was still in the "self improvement" section. The reason why I doubted this was for what I feel is a very obvious reason:
If you don't want an affair in your marriage, don't have one.
One would assume that if you are worried enough about an affair happening in your marriage that you are willing to purchase books on the topic, you are likely in the category of people who would not have an affair. For you, the decision (and yes, it is a decision) is easy-- simply do not have an affair.
Beyond that, it is out of your control.
That isn't to say that you have permission to act like a total turd bucket (the clinical term) in your relationship-- the rules behind being a decent human being require being respectful to others, especially your spouse-- but to say that there are things to do to prevent an affair from happening indicate that there is some fault in the betrayed spouse when an affair happens. And to be honest, I've not heard of something more ridiculous.
Have you heard someone blame the betrayed? I have. And it's absurd. And to be honest, it's insulting to everyone involved. To the betrayed spouse? You could have done something differently. Or not done something that you did do. Or you should have done more. All of this hurt and awful in your heart? You were kind of asking for it. And for the person who had the affair? How does it feel to realize that you don't have complete control over your actions? I know someone who doesn't have complete control over his actions. His name is Felix. He's an infant (12 weeks old). He regularly poops his pants, and he gets really upset about it. I imagine it probably is just as upsetting when you realize you're capable of the same level of control over your actions as well.
The truth is, you can do everything perfectly, and your spouse is still capable of making his/her own choices. You can be completely and totally miserable in your marriage, and you can still choose to be faithful. You can be married to some June Cleaver/Martha Stewart/super savvy business woman/Playboy Bunny mix, and still choose to violate her trust. So to write a book that has a list of things that you can do to make your marriage "affair proof" (translation: immune to affairs) is advertising mind control. And body control. Which, as far as I know, doesn't exist. We are all agents over our own brains and bodies (except Felix, who, in spite of his sad protests, still continues to poop his pants), so to tell someone that they can do something to keep someone from doing something else is absurd. And mean. It makes you a bully, because you are casting blame on someone who has not earned it.
So as I continued down the aisle, I considered writing the book titled, "Everything You Can Do To Prevent an Affair (Legally)" and then have the inside read, "Don't have one." But, alas, I doubt such a short book would be published. With something as complex and heartbreaking as the violation of marital trust, we want to think we can do so much to keep it from happening. But to suggest that there is the check list of things we can do is to say that those who are victim to the emotional car wreck are at least partially responsible for the pain they feel. That is what we call in the social work profession "victim blaming." Stop it. Stop all of it.
Start taking responsibility for yourself, and stop blaming other people when you screw up. The world would be a much better place if we all decided to do just that.
