Sunday 28 May 2017
acompleteme: the three stories of Steve Jobs
acompleteme: the three stories of Steve Jobs: Words in life One of the best inspirationals I have read in recent time Steve Jobs (1955–2011, 56), founder of Apple Inc, gave...
acompleteme: Marriage Myths
acompleteme: Marriage Myths: We live in a dissatisfied generation. Those who are short in height wished they were taller. The white is tanning their bodies trying to get...
acompleteme: acceptance
acompleteme: acceptance: My Dear Men, While 99% of men pray and look for a woman who can be a ‘’helper’’ to them, This Man, D...
acompleteme: completeness...What a Word!
acompleteme: completeness...What a Word!: Mysles Munroe of blessed memories in an audio message titled 'single but not alone' explained the true meaning of completeness...
the three stories of Steve Jobs
Words in life
One of the best inspirationals I have read in recent time
Steve Jobs (1955–2011, 56), founder of Apple
Inc, gave this amazing and inspirational
speech to Stanford University graduates on
June 12, 2005.
I am honored to be with you today at your
commencement from one of the finest
universities in the world. I never graduated
from college. Truth be told, this is the closest
I've ever gotten to a college graduation.
Today I want to tell you three stories from my
life. That’s it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6
months, but then stayed around as a drop-in
for another 18 months or so before I really
quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological
mother was a young, unwed college
graduate student, and she decided to put me
up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I
should be adopted by college graduates, so
everything was all set for me to be adopted at
birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that
when I popped out they decided at the last
minute that they really wanted a girl. So my
parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call
in the middle of the night asking: “We have
an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?”
They said: “Of course.” My biological mother
later found out that my mother had never
graduated from college and that my father
had never graduated from high school. She
refused to sign the final adoption papers. She
only relented a few months later when my
parents promised that I would someday go
to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I
naively chose a college that was almost as
expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-
class parents’ savings were being spent on
my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't
see the value in it. I had no idea what I
wanted to do with my life and no idea how
college was going to help me figure it out.
And here I was spending all of the money my
parents had saved their entire life. So I
decided to drop out and trust that it would all
work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time,
but looking back it was one of the best
decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped
out I could stop taking the required classes
that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in
on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm
room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms,
I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to
buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles
across town every Sunday night to get one
good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple.
I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into
by following my curiosity and intuition turned
out to be priceless later on. Let me give you
one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the
best calligraphy instruction in the country.
Throughout the campus every poster, every
label on every drawer, was beautifully hand
calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and
didn’t have to take the normal classes, I
decided to take a calligraphy class to learn
how to do this. I learned about serif and san
serif typefaces, about varying the amount of
space between different letter combinations,
about what makes great typography great. It
was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a
way that science can’t capture, and I found it
fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical
application in my life. But ten years later,
when we were designing the first Macintosh
computer, it all came back to me. And we
designed it all into the Mac. It was the first
computer with beautiful typography. If I had
never dropped in on that single course in
college, the Mac would have never had
multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced
fonts. And since Windows just copied the
Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer
would have them. If I had never dropped out,
I would have never dropped in on this
calligraphy class, and personal computers
might not have the wonderful typography
that they do. Of course it was impossible to
connect the dots looking forward when I
was in college. But it was very, very clear
looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can’t connect the dots looking
forward; you can only connect them looking
backwards. So you have to trust that the dots
will somehow connect in your future. You
have to trust in something — your gut,
destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach
has never let me down, and it has made all
the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky — I found what I loved to do
early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my
parents garage when I was 20. We worked
hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from
just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion
company with over 4000 employees. We had
just released our finest creation — the
Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just
turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you
get fired from a company you started? Well,
as Apple grew we hired someone who I
thought was very talented to run the
company with me, and for the first year or so
things went well. But then our visions of the
future began to diverge and eventually we
had a falling out. When we did, our Board of
Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out.
And very publicly out. What had been the
focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it
was devastating.
I really didn’t know what to do for a few
months. I felt that I had let the previous
generation of entrepreneurs down – that I
had dropped the baton as it was being
passed to me. I met with David Packard and
Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for
screwing up so badly. I was a very public
failure, and I even thought about running
away from the valley. But something slowly
began to dawn on me — I still loved what I
did. The turn of events at Apple had not
changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but
I was still in love. And so I decided to start
over.
I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that
getting fired from Apple was the best thing
that could have ever happened to me. The
heaviness of being successful was replaced
by the lightness of being a beginner again,
less sure about everything. It freed me to
enter one of the most creative periods of my
life.
During the next five years, I started a
company named NeXT, another company
named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing
woman who would become my wife. Pixar
went on to create the worlds first computer
animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now
the most successful animation studio in the
world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple
bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the
technology we developed at NeXT is at the
heart of Apple’s current renaissance. And
Laurene and I have a wonderful family
together.
I’m pretty sure none of this would have
happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It
was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the
patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in
the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m
convinced that the only thing that kept me
going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got
to find what you love. And that is as true for
your work as it is for your lovers. Your work
is going to fill a large part of your life, and the
only way to be truly satisfied is to do what
you believe is great work. And the only way
to do great work is to love what you do. If
you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t
settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll
know when you find it. And, like any great
relationship, it just gets better and better as
the years roll on. So keep looking until you
find it. Don’t settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went
something like: “If you live each day as if it
was your last, someday you’ll most certainly
be right.” It made an impression on me, and
since then, for the past 33 years, I have
looked in the mirror every morning and
asked myself: “If today were the last day of
my life, would I want to do what I am about
to do today?” And whenever the answer has
been “No” for too many days in a row, I
know I need to change something.
Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the
most important tool I’ve ever encountered to
help me make the big choices in life. Because
almost everything — all external expectations,
all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure
– these things just fall away in the face of
death, leaving only what is truly important.
Remembering that you are going to die is the
best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking
you have something to lose. You are already
naked. There is no reason not to follow your
heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with
cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning,
and it clearly showed a tumor on my
pancreas. I didn’t even know what a
pancreas was. The doctors told me this was
almost certainly a type of cancer that is
incurable, and that I should expect to live no
longer than three to six months. My doctor
advised me to go home and get my affairs in
order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to
die. It means to try to tell your kids everything
you thought you’d have the next 10 years to
tell them in just a few months. It means to
make sure everything is buttoned up so that
it will be as easy as possible for your family. It
means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that
evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an
endoscope down my throat, through my
stomach and into my intestines, put a needle
into my pancreas and got a few cells from the
tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was
there, told me that when they viewed the cells
under a microscope the doctors started
crying because it turned out to be a very rare
form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with
surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.
This was the closest I’ve been to facing death,
and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few
more decades. Having lived through it, I can
now say this to you with a bit more certainty
than when death was a useful but purely
intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want
to go to heaven don’t want to die to get
there. And yet death is the destination we all
share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is
as it should be, because Death is very likely
the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s
change agent. It clears out the old to make
way for the new. Right now the new is you,
but someday not too long from now, you will
gradually become the old and be cleared
away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite
true.
Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living
someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by
dogma — which is living with the results of
other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of
others’ opinions drown out your own inner
voice. And most important, have the courage
to follow your heart and intuition. They
somehow already know what you truly want
to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing
publication called The Whole Earth Catalog,
which was one of the bibles of my
generation. It was created by a fellow named
Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo
Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic
touch. This was in the late 1960’s, before
personal computers and desktop publishing,
so it was all made with typewriters, scissors,
and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like
Google in paperback form, 35 years before
Google came along: it was idealistic, and
overflowing with neat tools and great
notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues
of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it
had run its course, they put out a final issue.
It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On
the back cover of their final issue was a
photograph of an early morning country
road, the kind you might find yourself
hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous.
Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay
Foolish.” It was their farewell message as
they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And
I have always wished that for myself. And
now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish
that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
One of the best inspirationals I have read in recent time
Steve Jobs (1955–2011, 56), founder of Apple
Inc, gave this amazing and inspirational
speech to Stanford University graduates on
June 12, 2005.
I am honored to be with you today at your
commencement from one of the finest
universities in the world. I never graduated
from college. Truth be told, this is the closest
I've ever gotten to a college graduation.
Today I want to tell you three stories from my
life. That’s it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6
months, but then stayed around as a drop-in
for another 18 months or so before I really
quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological
mother was a young, unwed college
graduate student, and she decided to put me
up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I
should be adopted by college graduates, so
everything was all set for me to be adopted at
birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that
when I popped out they decided at the last
minute that they really wanted a girl. So my
parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call
in the middle of the night asking: “We have
an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?”
They said: “Of course.” My biological mother
later found out that my mother had never
graduated from college and that my father
had never graduated from high school. She
refused to sign the final adoption papers. She
only relented a few months later when my
parents promised that I would someday go
to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I
naively chose a college that was almost as
expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-
class parents’ savings were being spent on
my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't
see the value in it. I had no idea what I
wanted to do with my life and no idea how
college was going to help me figure it out.
And here I was spending all of the money my
parents had saved their entire life. So I
decided to drop out and trust that it would all
work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time,
but looking back it was one of the best
decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped
out I could stop taking the required classes
that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in
on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm
room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms,
I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to
buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles
across town every Sunday night to get one
good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple.
I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into
by following my curiosity and intuition turned
out to be priceless later on. Let me give you
one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the
best calligraphy instruction in the country.
Throughout the campus every poster, every
label on every drawer, was beautifully hand
calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and
didn’t have to take the normal classes, I
decided to take a calligraphy class to learn
how to do this. I learned about serif and san
serif typefaces, about varying the amount of
space between different letter combinations,
about what makes great typography great. It
was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a
way that science can’t capture, and I found it
fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical
application in my life. But ten years later,
when we were designing the first Macintosh
computer, it all came back to me. And we
designed it all into the Mac. It was the first
computer with beautiful typography. If I had
never dropped in on that single course in
college, the Mac would have never had
multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced
fonts. And since Windows just copied the
Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer
would have them. If I had never dropped out,
I would have never dropped in on this
calligraphy class, and personal computers
might not have the wonderful typography
that they do. Of course it was impossible to
connect the dots looking forward when I
was in college. But it was very, very clear
looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can’t connect the dots looking
forward; you can only connect them looking
backwards. So you have to trust that the dots
will somehow connect in your future. You
have to trust in something — your gut,
destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach
has never let me down, and it has made all
the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky — I found what I loved to do
early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my
parents garage when I was 20. We worked
hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from
just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion
company with over 4000 employees. We had
just released our finest creation — the
Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just
turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you
get fired from a company you started? Well,
as Apple grew we hired someone who I
thought was very talented to run the
company with me, and for the first year or so
things went well. But then our visions of the
future began to diverge and eventually we
had a falling out. When we did, our Board of
Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out.
And very publicly out. What had been the
focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it
was devastating.
I really didn’t know what to do for a few
months. I felt that I had let the previous
generation of entrepreneurs down – that I
had dropped the baton as it was being
passed to me. I met with David Packard and
Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for
screwing up so badly. I was a very public
failure, and I even thought about running
away from the valley. But something slowly
began to dawn on me — I still loved what I
did. The turn of events at Apple had not
changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but
I was still in love. And so I decided to start
over.
I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that
getting fired from Apple was the best thing
that could have ever happened to me. The
heaviness of being successful was replaced
by the lightness of being a beginner again,
less sure about everything. It freed me to
enter one of the most creative periods of my
life.
During the next five years, I started a
company named NeXT, another company
named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing
woman who would become my wife. Pixar
went on to create the worlds first computer
animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now
the most successful animation studio in the
world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple
bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the
technology we developed at NeXT is at the
heart of Apple’s current renaissance. And
Laurene and I have a wonderful family
together.
I’m pretty sure none of this would have
happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It
was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the
patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in
the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m
convinced that the only thing that kept me
going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got
to find what you love. And that is as true for
your work as it is for your lovers. Your work
is going to fill a large part of your life, and the
only way to be truly satisfied is to do what
you believe is great work. And the only way
to do great work is to love what you do. If
you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t
settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll
know when you find it. And, like any great
relationship, it just gets better and better as
the years roll on. So keep looking until you
find it. Don’t settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went
something like: “If you live each day as if it
was your last, someday you’ll most certainly
be right.” It made an impression on me, and
since then, for the past 33 years, I have
looked in the mirror every morning and
asked myself: “If today were the last day of
my life, would I want to do what I am about
to do today?” And whenever the answer has
been “No” for too many days in a row, I
know I need to change something.
Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the
most important tool I’ve ever encountered to
help me make the big choices in life. Because
almost everything — all external expectations,
all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure
– these things just fall away in the face of
death, leaving only what is truly important.
Remembering that you are going to die is the
best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking
you have something to lose. You are already
naked. There is no reason not to follow your
heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with
cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning,
and it clearly showed a tumor on my
pancreas. I didn’t even know what a
pancreas was. The doctors told me this was
almost certainly a type of cancer that is
incurable, and that I should expect to live no
longer than three to six months. My doctor
advised me to go home and get my affairs in
order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to
die. It means to try to tell your kids everything
you thought you’d have the next 10 years to
tell them in just a few months. It means to
make sure everything is buttoned up so that
it will be as easy as possible for your family. It
means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that
evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an
endoscope down my throat, through my
stomach and into my intestines, put a needle
into my pancreas and got a few cells from the
tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was
there, told me that when they viewed the cells
under a microscope the doctors started
crying because it turned out to be a very rare
form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with
surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.
This was the closest I’ve been to facing death,
and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few
more decades. Having lived through it, I can
now say this to you with a bit more certainty
than when death was a useful but purely
intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want
to go to heaven don’t want to die to get
there. And yet death is the destination we all
share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is
as it should be, because Death is very likely
the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s
change agent. It clears out the old to make
way for the new. Right now the new is you,
but someday not too long from now, you will
gradually become the old and be cleared
away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite
true.
Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living
someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by
dogma — which is living with the results of
other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of
others’ opinions drown out your own inner
voice. And most important, have the courage
to follow your heart and intuition. They
somehow already know what you truly want
to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing
publication called The Whole Earth Catalog,
which was one of the bibles of my
generation. It was created by a fellow named
Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo
Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic
touch. This was in the late 1960’s, before
personal computers and desktop publishing,
so it was all made with typewriters, scissors,
and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like
Google in paperback form, 35 years before
Google came along: it was idealistic, and
overflowing with neat tools and great
notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues
of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it
had run its course, they put out a final issue.
It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On
the back cover of their final issue was a
photograph of an early morning country
road, the kind you might find yourself
hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous.
Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay
Foolish.” It was their farewell message as
they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And
I have always wished that for myself. And
now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish
that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Marriage Myths
We live in a dissatisfied generation. Those who are short in height wished they were taller. The white is tanning their bodies trying to get dark, the blacks are bleaching trying to get white. The young are tinting their hair white, the old are dyeing their hair black. Singles are posing with wedding ring, those married forget to wear it, those with beards are shaving off, those with none are using methylated spirit to grow some! Today, I have a story to tell.
Are you ready for it? Here we go. Once upon a time, (time – time), when I was single, I looked forward to marriage. Now that I am married, I missed the time I was single! End of story!
Singles will hardly believe that because all in their mind is to get married so that everything can change. I have been happily married for fourteen years and here are a few things I have learned that might bless you if you are still single.
1. Marriage will not make you happier.
Be happy before marriage. Marriage has no power in itself beyond the two people involved.
2. Marriage will not change you.
Change begins inwardly. Marriage is not a change agent. Marriage will not improve your attitudes, it will expose them. Marriage does not eliminate your weaknesses, it will amplify them. Start working on your attitudes and weaknesses before marriage.
3. Marriage will not cure loneliness.
There are several married people who have their spouses with them by the second, but are extremely lonely. Loneliness is more of a state of mind than availability of people around you. The loneliest people in the world are sometimes the ones with large number of fans and crowd around them. Only God’s word can cure the root cause of loneliness.
4. Marriage will not take pressures away, it will probably bring more. You have one more life to manage. If you cannot manage yours and you venture into marriage, it will be a disaster. When the children start coming, there will be more pressures. Learn to take pressures head on by casting your care on Jesus and refusing to worry like the scripture advises.
5. Marriage is not all about jeru trip. Ask somebody who is married. Yes, jeru trip is a marital glue, a healing balm in the soul for couples, and a blessing that keeps couples together. But it is not like you think, jeru trip in the morning, afternoon and evening. Average couples actually make love twice or thrice in a week. However, the more frequent it is for married couples, the better for them.
6. Your spouse will not be a magician neither is he the Holy Spirit.
He will be a human being with his own issues. You will always need God. He might be very anointed on the pulpit and filled with God’s glory while she is ministering in the choir, but at home he or she is a human being with all the weaknesses complete. Learn to separate the office or position of your spouse from his or her person at home.
7. Marriage is not all about kisses, flowers, cinemas, cakes, chocolates and vacations alone.
It is about cooking, pampers, crying baby, working, paying school fees and so on. It is about budgets, plans, strategies and divine wisdom. It is about submission to your husband who you sometimes think is hard, insensitive and unloving. It is about loving your wife who you sometimes think is stubborn, does not want to be corrected and can nag from morning till next day.
Are you ready for it? Here we go. Once upon a time, (time – time), when I was single, I looked forward to marriage. Now that I am married, I missed the time I was single! End of story!
Singles will hardly believe that because all in their mind is to get married so that everything can change. I have been happily married for fourteen years and here are a few things I have learned that might bless you if you are still single.
1. Marriage will not make you happier.
Be happy before marriage. Marriage has no power in itself beyond the two people involved.
2. Marriage will not change you.
Change begins inwardly. Marriage is not a change agent. Marriage will not improve your attitudes, it will expose them. Marriage does not eliminate your weaknesses, it will amplify them. Start working on your attitudes and weaknesses before marriage.
3. Marriage will not cure loneliness.
There are several married people who have their spouses with them by the second, but are extremely lonely. Loneliness is more of a state of mind than availability of people around you. The loneliest people in the world are sometimes the ones with large number of fans and crowd around them. Only God’s word can cure the root cause of loneliness.
4. Marriage will not take pressures away, it will probably bring more. You have one more life to manage. If you cannot manage yours and you venture into marriage, it will be a disaster. When the children start coming, there will be more pressures. Learn to take pressures head on by casting your care on Jesus and refusing to worry like the scripture advises.
5. Marriage is not all about jeru trip. Ask somebody who is married. Yes, jeru trip is a marital glue, a healing balm in the soul for couples, and a blessing that keeps couples together. But it is not like you think, jeru trip in the morning, afternoon and evening. Average couples actually make love twice or thrice in a week. However, the more frequent it is for married couples, the better for them.
6. Your spouse will not be a magician neither is he the Holy Spirit.
He will be a human being with his own issues. You will always need God. He might be very anointed on the pulpit and filled with God’s glory while she is ministering in the choir, but at home he or she is a human being with all the weaknesses complete. Learn to separate the office or position of your spouse from his or her person at home.
7. Marriage is not all about kisses, flowers, cinemas, cakes, chocolates and vacations alone.
It is about cooking, pampers, crying baby, working, paying school fees and so on. It is about budgets, plans, strategies and divine wisdom. It is about submission to your husband who you sometimes think is hard, insensitive and unloving. It is about loving your wife who you sometimes think is stubborn, does not want to be corrected and can nag from morning till next day.
My Husband Cheated On Me…But I Stayed With Him
Fighting for your marriage
I have witnessed infidelity in real life which resulted in both divorce and reconciliation. I have watched affairs play out on television, almost to the point of desensitization. I have had long talks with girlfriends about what we would do if our partner strayed, and about men who cheat and women who stay. Never, I thought. That will never be me. Not only would I never marry a man with wandering eyes, I would also never stay with a cheater — not in a relationship and especially not in a marriage.
When I met my husband 20 years ago, he felt like home. I was his first serious girlfriend, the first woman he introduced to his mother. He had never cheated. He adored me, and everyone could tell. I felt safe, maybe too safe.
We got married and had kids right away, three of them in three short years, and I grew tired. We both stopped investing in each other and put so much time and attention toward our kids and his career that our marriage sank to the bottom of our priority list. Dates nights never happened. We would tuck the kids in bed and spend the rest of the evening in separate corners because we were too drained to function. I denied him again and again. We didn’t kiss or touch for over six months. I just couldn’t stand the thought of it after being alone with the kids for hours and hours while he worked. I was too exhausted and had enough hands all over me all day.
We were a cliché.
He came home one day with a few paintings and hung them in his office — paintings that I would later smash all over his pool table after he told me about the woman he was having an affair with.
I knew we were broken, but I never thought he would step outside of our marriage. In fact, I would have bet money my husband would never fuck another woman, but he did. And he told me about it one October evening as he sobbed next to me on the sofa.
I threw up, and then called my best friend even though it was midnight. She lives five hours away and told me to hang tight, that she would be there the next day, and she was. I made my husband leave, and she was there to help me keep it together in front of my kids.
He was a wreck but I didn’t care. He said it was a very short fling. He had no feelings for her. He just liked feeling needed. There was nothing he could have said to make it right. Nothing. I didn’t care about her. I have never been curious about the woman who fucked my husband while knowing full well he had a wife and kids at home. He is the one who broke his vows to me. I had so much anger and hurt because of what he did, I couldn’t register those feeling towards another woman. I have never Googled her or asked what she looks like. She is not worth my energy. I only had the energy to be sad for our marriage. I only had the energy to care for my children. I only had the energy to worry about myself and how I was going to move forward.
Some days, that looked like me hardly speaking and barely functioning. I would mutter small words to my children who were 4, 5, and 7 at the time, but that was all I had. I was doing my best.
Some days, I had the energy to really dig in and be a fantastic mother, but it was just a distraction. My feelings of anger and resentment of my husband and his infidelity would always resurface. I would find myself getting angry at him for forgetting to pick up paper towels, and before I knew it, I was telling him to go fuck somebody else again since he didn’t know how to be a good husband.
And he let me. He would hang his head in shame, never yell back at me. He scheduled date nights, took me to my favorite restaurants, and never said anything about the amount of money I started to spend on myself to try and fill the deep hole. A void had replaced our happy life.
I told him to go, to walk out that door and be with her. I would be fine. I would make it. I would rather be alone than with someone who felt they had to stay. I deserve more, and so does he. Those were the moments he seemed most hurt, when he seemed the most shocked at himself for what he had done. He said he felt haunted, and I was glad.
Very slowly I was able to get behind it, and be all in for our marriage, but honestly, that feeling comes and goes, even now.
Our children have no idea about my husband’s infidelity. We never spoke of it when they were around. Their opinion of their father is sacred to me. They adore him, and I never want them to know. It does not define him and it does not define our marriage. Some days, when I feel sliced open by his infidelity, I take it out on him by picking fights about petty stuff in from of them — because I am a human being who is still trying to deal with the hurt. They always side with him and tell me I am being mean to Daddy. It takes all my strength not to say, “If you only knew! I am not the bad guy here. He hurt me. Daddy hurt me.” But I won’t. And that’s not because I think it is a horrible decision, but because I can’t see it helping anything for our family right now.
It is such a delicate situation and every family unit is different, and whether you decide to tell your kids, your mother, or your friends about your marriage problems, it is all up to you.
I decided to tell my best friend and sisters. That is it. Not because I didn’t want anyone to know, but because I knew I couldn’t deal with some people’s reactions about what my husband did. I needed clarity and energy to rebuild my family. I knew I would be clouded and swayed by the opinions of others.
I have thought I was going to leave, then I knew I was going to stay forever, then I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. It ebbs and flows and it doesn’t go away.
And here I am — five years later, still married, still in the dark about my husband’s mistress.
I stayed because my family is worth fighting for. I stayed because I love the man I exchanged vows with, even though we have both broken some vows. I stayed because my husband loves me. I stayed because the thought of him walking out that door or meeting him at the local McDonald’s to pass off the kids every weekend brings me to my knees. I stayed because I believe in my marriage. I stayed because I now understand what it means to accept the choice he made, forgive him, and love him anyway. That’s something I was unable to do before it actually happened
That’s something I was unable to do before it actually happened to me, back when I would sit in judgment of the women who did stay. It is very easy to sit alongside someone and judge the way they handle things.
My husband’s affair does not define our marriage. Even more importantly, it does not define me. I know that I could live a happy life being a single mother. (I didn’t say “easy.” I said “happy.”) I know I could choose to end our marriage anytime I want. And right now, I still want to be his wife. I had to decide to put my energy into this new relationship of ours, because we can never really go back to the way things were. It is different now. I can’t lie and tell you that it’s okay. It stings, sometimes so badly I can’t breathe. But this doesn’t hurt as much as it would hurt to end our relationship.
I stayed because it is my choice, my life, and my marriage. I chose to do what was best for me — not what was best for my kids and not what was best for my husband but what was best for me.
And I have decided to write about it, because if you can relate (God, I hope you can’t relate), I want to you know it’s your business, your life, your choice to stay or go, or to go and then come back. It’s your choice to tell the kids, the neighbors, or your friends. It is yours and yours alone. You can take control, handle it, and still have a happy ending, no matter what decision you make.
I have witnessed infidelity in real life which resulted in both divorce and reconciliation. I have watched affairs play out on television, almost to the point of desensitization. I have had long talks with girlfriends about what we would do if our partner strayed, and about men who cheat and women who stay. Never, I thought. That will never be me. Not only would I never marry a man with wandering eyes, I would also never stay with a cheater — not in a relationship and especially not in a marriage.
When I met my husband 20 years ago, he felt like home. I was his first serious girlfriend, the first woman he introduced to his mother. He had never cheated. He adored me, and everyone could tell. I felt safe, maybe too safe.
We got married and had kids right away, three of them in three short years, and I grew tired. We both stopped investing in each other and put so much time and attention toward our kids and his career that our marriage sank to the bottom of our priority list. Dates nights never happened. We would tuck the kids in bed and spend the rest of the evening in separate corners because we were too drained to function. I denied him again and again. We didn’t kiss or touch for over six months. I just couldn’t stand the thought of it after being alone with the kids for hours and hours while he worked. I was too exhausted and had enough hands all over me all day.
We were a cliché.
He came home one day with a few paintings and hung them in his office — paintings that I would later smash all over his pool table after he told me about the woman he was having an affair with.
I knew we were broken, but I never thought he would step outside of our marriage. In fact, I would have bet money my husband would never fuck another woman, but he did. And he told me about it one October evening as he sobbed next to me on the sofa.
I threw up, and then called my best friend even though it was midnight. She lives five hours away and told me to hang tight, that she would be there the next day, and she was. I made my husband leave, and she was there to help me keep it together in front of my kids.
He was a wreck but I didn’t care. He said it was a very short fling. He had no feelings for her. He just liked feeling needed. There was nothing he could have said to make it right. Nothing. I didn’t care about her. I have never been curious about the woman who fucked my husband while knowing full well he had a wife and kids at home. He is the one who broke his vows to me. I had so much anger and hurt because of what he did, I couldn’t register those feeling towards another woman. I have never Googled her or asked what she looks like. She is not worth my energy. I only had the energy to be sad for our marriage. I only had the energy to care for my children. I only had the energy to worry about myself and how I was going to move forward.
Some days, that looked like me hardly speaking and barely functioning. I would mutter small words to my children who were 4, 5, and 7 at the time, but that was all I had. I was doing my best.
Some days, I had the energy to really dig in and be a fantastic mother, but it was just a distraction. My feelings of anger and resentment of my husband and his infidelity would always resurface. I would find myself getting angry at him for forgetting to pick up paper towels, and before I knew it, I was telling him to go fuck somebody else again since he didn’t know how to be a good husband.
And he let me. He would hang his head in shame, never yell back at me. He scheduled date nights, took me to my favorite restaurants, and never said anything about the amount of money I started to spend on myself to try and fill the deep hole. A void had replaced our happy life.
I told him to go, to walk out that door and be with her. I would be fine. I would make it. I would rather be alone than with someone who felt they had to stay. I deserve more, and so does he. Those were the moments he seemed most hurt, when he seemed the most shocked at himself for what he had done. He said he felt haunted, and I was glad.
Very slowly I was able to get behind it, and be all in for our marriage, but honestly, that feeling comes and goes, even now.
Our children have no idea about my husband’s infidelity. We never spoke of it when they were around. Their opinion of their father is sacred to me. They adore him, and I never want them to know. It does not define him and it does not define our marriage. Some days, when I feel sliced open by his infidelity, I take it out on him by picking fights about petty stuff in from of them — because I am a human being who is still trying to deal with the hurt. They always side with him and tell me I am being mean to Daddy. It takes all my strength not to say, “If you only knew! I am not the bad guy here. He hurt me. Daddy hurt me.” But I won’t. And that’s not because I think it is a horrible decision, but because I can’t see it helping anything for our family right now.
It is such a delicate situation and every family unit is different, and whether you decide to tell your kids, your mother, or your friends about your marriage problems, it is all up to you.
I decided to tell my best friend and sisters. That is it. Not because I didn’t want anyone to know, but because I knew I couldn’t deal with some people’s reactions about what my husband did. I needed clarity and energy to rebuild my family. I knew I would be clouded and swayed by the opinions of others.
I have thought I was going to leave, then I knew I was going to stay forever, then I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. It ebbs and flows and it doesn’t go away.
And here I am — five years later, still married, still in the dark about my husband’s mistress.
I stayed because my family is worth fighting for. I stayed because I love the man I exchanged vows with, even though we have both broken some vows. I stayed because my husband loves me. I stayed because the thought of him walking out that door or meeting him at the local McDonald’s to pass off the kids every weekend brings me to my knees. I stayed because I believe in my marriage. I stayed because I now understand what it means to accept the choice he made, forgive him, and love him anyway. That’s something I was unable to do before it actually happened
That’s something I was unable to do before it actually happened to me, back when I would sit in judgment of the women who did stay. It is very easy to sit alongside someone and judge the way they handle things.
My husband’s affair does not define our marriage. Even more importantly, it does not define me. I know that I could live a happy life being a single mother. (I didn’t say “easy.” I said “happy.”) I know I could choose to end our marriage anytime I want. And right now, I still want to be his wife. I had to decide to put my energy into this new relationship of ours, because we can never really go back to the way things were. It is different now. I can’t lie and tell you that it’s okay. It stings, sometimes so badly I can’t breathe. But this doesn’t hurt as much as it would hurt to end our relationship.
I stayed because it is my choice, my life, and my marriage. I chose to do what was best for me — not what was best for my kids and not what was best for my husband but what was best for me.
And I have decided to write about it, because if you can relate (God, I hope you can’t relate), I want to you know it’s your business, your life, your choice to stay or go, or to go and then come back. It’s your choice to tell the kids, the neighbors, or your friends. It is yours and yours alone. You can take control, handle it, and still have a happy ending, no matter what decision you make.
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