What Was My Fault? (Part 1)

This post has taken weeks to write. Probably actually months. Good grief, it's really taken years now that I think about it.

It's a sticky issue, isn't it? It's complicated trying to weed through who did what to whom and to figure out as best as you can what the truth is, what was real in the meltdown and what wasn't, what reactions really had nothing to do with you and vice versa, what issues that caused pain were truly not their fault but just picked at injuries from way before you ever met, what was exaggerated, or blame-shifted, or simply not handled with grace. Even with wise counsel, a lot of space and a broadening perspective, it's hard to figure out what stuff is your stuff. 

Because what that person did hurt. It mattered. And what you did to that person hurt, and it mattered. And sometimes those things get very, very tangled.

So, right after saying that I'm not going to focus so much on figuring out all the ways that I negatively contributed to the breakup of my marriage and family and just accept the rejection and heartbreak, I'm going to tell you what I think. Not because it's inconsistent (although, as a woman inconsistency is my prerogative), but because I think it's important, since we're talking about the nitty-gritty, to be authentic and transparent, albeit pseudonymously. Yes, the irony is a wee tad hilarious.

It's called "Part 1" because it is by no means exhaustive because, thankfully, the Lord only gives us bits at a time, enough for us to digest without drowning in shame. I'm sure that He will continue teaching me and revealing the garbage in my heart and behavior as I'm able to receive it and be corrected and not overwhelmed.

Without chasing unrejection as it's purpose, I've been walking out this confession. Not to my husband. Not to my son. To God.

The truth is that this is not just a story only of the weighty grief of the loss of my marriage and relationship (for now) with my older son, but first and foremost it's a story of reconciliation with God when I didn't even know that was needed. That's the surprise. It's a story of Him chasing me until I could run no more.

I look back to that awful, climactic day when things had escalated so out of control with my husband and older son that it became intolerable and dangerous and I was left with no other choice but to ask them to leave until it was safe and wise for all of us to be under the same roof together and I realize that it was the rending of something deeper than imaginable at that time. (** Read this post by Leslie Vernick -- imperative for women in abusive marriages, especially those praying for restoration but determined not to repeat of the same old patterns of abuse! **) The knowledge that repairing the damage was now out of my hands, could not be done by me, and that in protecting the rest of us I would likely lose my husband and son, could no longer delay me drawing the line for safety and sanity's sake. It was as much "time" as it is for a woman in labor. There was no holding that baby back one more minute. That moment was going to be birthed come Hell or high water.

I have wished over and over that I could be one of those bold, take-charge women who would get one look at abusive behavior and say, "No. No way, honey. Uh uh. Forget it. Here's your hat. Don't let the door hit you on the heinie" and shake the dust off and walk away.

But, I am not. I've grieved, and wrung my hands, and paced back and forth, and have written tomes in journals, and talked for hours with wise mentors, and pounded the gates of Heaven.

I've wrestled and been hounded by my part in it. Guilt, guilt, guilt! Tears, tears, tears. What part was I responsible for? How did I contribute negatively? In what ways had I sinned against, hurt, and angered my husband and children? Chasing my tail with obsessive guilt, responsibility, and so much grief over my own wrongdoing.

That began a journey that I didn't expect to lead where it did. 

To my relationship with the Lord.

And, this is important -- The fact that my husband didn't feel like he "should have to" honor me, our marriage, or family by doing the hard heart-work of owning and humbly taking responsibility for his behavior, feeling remorse, confessing the truth, and being held accountable during a long process of reconciliation... no matter how devastating that is... it truly doesn't have anything at all to do with the part that was my fault. 

Let me explain: Although he made the decision not to repent and repair our marriage & family (That's on him.), his sin doesn't mitigate mine.

It doesn't. 

For a while I hung my hat on his behavior, complaining, blaming, and accusing him to God as if his actions somehow deleted my culpability. Isn't that such a stupid way of trying to water down my own mistakes and sin? Comparing it to someone else's? My fault is my fault before God and before others. His is his.

So, here's what I understand so far to be
MY FAULT:

God was not the One I loved most. I fell dead-bang head-over-heels with this amazing, young, brilliant, handsome, young man, and let my relationship with the Lord take the back seat lickety split. The way back seat.

I was too needy. Some women are just naturally much more independent. Not me. I wish I had been. I wouldn't take back how much I loved him, but I wish I would have had the maturity to be as content with him as without him. Looking back, I regret my neediness for affection, attention, companionship, and intimacy.

I didn't appreciate him enough. His hard work and his efforts in our marriage early on didn't get the praise from me that was due. It hurt him.

I didn't focus on his good traits & habits, and ignore the bad.

I came into our marriage with unrealistic expectations about romance, what marriage meant, what partnering was. Very early into our friendship, he and I were talking about my relationship with my former boyfriend (a truly lovely, kind and godly man. Still is.) and I said that it was "good". He challenged me, "Are you willing to settle for 'good'"? I was promised the fairy tale and fully expected one.

I didn't let go of injuries that happened early on. As an example, on the first morning of our honeymoon as we ate breakfast in fluffy, white bathrobes and I had a perfectly happy cheshire cat grin plastered on, he sheepishly said that he wasn't sure he wanted to be married... 

Yeah... 

That was bad. But, instead of understanding that he was a 21 year old young man suddenly being fully aware of the enormity of the responsibility of husbandhood and future fatherhood and all that entailed, I got emotionally and psychologically bulldozed by his confession. Truthfully, it ate at my girl-heart and I let that plant the seed for me chasing and chasing his love, and more and more unrequitedly.

I didn't respect him simply because he was my husband. Not good.


I put him in control of my happiness way, way too often.

I didn't listen to his heart when his words hurt me.

I tried to win his parents galactically unsuccessfully and didn't react to their distaste for me with grace. Being liked and accepted by them was plain ol' not going to happen, and I didn't have the wisdom to just let it be ok. I got hurt when they compared me unkindly to former girlfriends, openly rejected me for not being "the best candidate for marriage", made fun of me about personal things (like my body or my taste in clothing) "just teasing" in front of others, and made our engagement and marriage very painful and filled with constant, intense pressure and conflict, so within a few years I pulled back emotionally and with the investment of time. This frustrated and angered my husband far more than I realized and far, far more than he was willing to tell me because it put him in the position of having to defend me (which he was either unable or unwilling to do).

I became more and more insecure as I realized he wasn't standing by/with me. I think I sometimes set him up to "come through" for me and when he didn't, I got hurt and anxious.

I started having "Come to Jesus" talks outlining what I needed, what had to change or... and then panicked that he wouldn't follow through -- and he wouldn't.

I let fear and upsetness grow just below the surface. Never overtly, but it hounded me daily like waiting for an atomic bomb to drop.


I didn't have fun no matter what was going on in our marriage. I wasn't nearly enough fun no matter what. I let days be spoiled by petty things instead of enjoying what could be enjoyed and forgetting the rest. I hung on to upsetness, chewing on frustrations and worries over and over.

I expected more of him that he was willing to give, or be, or do. I expected (and demanded) more from him as a husband, as a father, and even as a man.

I was frustratingly incapable of loving and wifing him in a way that helped him or that he could receive... Whatever wisdom or skill or grace loving and wifing him required, I lacked,


so at some point I made an internal decision to be the best darn housewife, mama, homeschooler, ministry director, worship team member, adoption activist, and jacqueline-of-all-trades known to man. Since I was bad at wifing my husband, I'd be a smashing success at everything else. This angered and alienated him. It didn't do any favors for my relationships with my kids, either. To tell you the truth, this seriously confused me. I thought attempting to be Suzi Awesome and fabulously amazing, leaping tall buildings while juggling china plates and looking pretty would help. It didn't. It made him feel small.


I looked down on him for his choices that were selfish and/or foolish and for not actively seeking or accepting wisdom from others. I judged him instead of letting him do things his way and letting the result be the result.

I counterbalanced his "good guy" by being the "bad guy" with the kids. I was always "the heavy". Recipe for disaster. And, later on, I usurped his parenting and didn't back his act when I deeply disagreed with him. I embarrassed & emasculated him with correction & criticism. I hurt and offended him.

Then, he did a really bad thing. And, he didn't really care that he had completely destroyed me by doing that really bad thing. In fact, he didn't even consider it a really bad thing and was pretty mad at me that I did. And, because all of that was completely overwhelming, instead of dealing with it, I stuffed it way down deep inside, pretended it never happened, and pasted a smile on my face for the world to see. He was happy about that, but I wasn't. It ate me alive and became a foundational crack in my ability to trust him. I think if I'd have been brave enough to insist that we deal with it back then, it would have been extremely hard, but very possible to work through. That was my fault.


About midway through our marriage, things came to an ugly head with his relatives over a very important issue involving our children. Our addressing the problem head-on (Loving confrontation is not the way they typically handle things. They tend to be under-the-rug sweepers... says the girl who ignored the really bad thing for a decade) and their lack of willingness to listen, understand, and adjust blew the relationship to smithereens. Instead, they asked him to leave me and "come back home". Of course, I thought we were "in this together". In the difficulty together. In the grief together. In commitment together. In all of it together. I did not fully understand, until it was years too late, that even though at the time he said that he was with me, the truth was that he wanted relationship with them more than he was willing to stand behind me and our family. I did not realize that relationship with his relatives was a deal-breaker, that if he had to choose between us and them, actually between me and them, he would choose them. I definitely would have done things differently had I known. And, looking back, I should have known. Truthfully, I think deep down inside I did know that (which is why I worried so much) and so I'm responsible for not handling that entire issue differently.

So very many hurtful things I never should have said or even thought. Bad stuff. Things you can't take back.

I became increasingly scared, uptight and obsessed. I became consumed by our marital strain. It became a broken tooth, the kind that your tongue just can't stay away from. My fear & anxiety about our marriage manifested in all the signs of grief -- anger, control, manipulation, panic, depression, anxiety, exhaustion, bargaining, and on and on. I turned our marriage & family into an idol. It was all I thought about.

I was totally miserable, totally without joy (except for a short month Dec11-Jan12... Tell ya about that later.) for the last few years.

I lacked gentleness. 
I lacked sweetness. 
I was full of pride. 
Impatience. 
Entitlement. 
Ingratitude. 
Blaming. 
Resentment and bitterness. 
Justification, self-righteous excuses. As I've said before, it was me not owning my own stuff. Pointing at him way too much, pointing at myself way too little. 

I let his sins block the view of my own sins.

I didn't share in the financial burden. I didn't find a way to help provide when I saw financial collapse coming. Since I was the one who was able to have a broader perspective, it was up to me to do what I could. I didn't.

I didn't let him quit our marriage when he wanted to. I clung, and begged, and grabbed, and was desperate. Very bad. It just annoyed and angered him.

I basically drove him crazy trying to force him to husband me and father our children the way I needed/wanted, and be the man I thought he could and should be as if what he chose to do and who he chose to be was for me to decide.

All of this stuff is mine. It's hard to look at. It's challenging to own. Some of it has been hard to even feel sorry about until the Lord started working on my hardness of heart because my flesh is full of excuses.

There's so much I wish I would have done differently. So much I regret. So much I'm still weeding through with the Lord. But, I'm thankful for His patience with belligerent me, and grateful for His forgiveness.

Hopefully Part 2 won't take me years to write...

"Who is a God like You, who pardons sin 

and forgives transgressions?

You do not stay angry forever, 

but delight to show mercy. 

You will again have compassion on us; 

You will tread our sins underfoot 

and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea."

Micah 7.18-19

"And forgive us our trespasses

as we forgive those who trespass against us."

Matthew 6.12

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just

and will forgive us our sins

and purify us from all unrighteousness."

1 John 1.9