my first marriage: the story

Very few people on earth know the truth.
This is not a happy story.
or a proud story.
or a hopeful story.

but it is a true story.

i believe that by telling this raw truth, it will aid in my recovery.
i am really combining step 1 + 4 + 5 (honesty, truth, and confession)
something i have been neglecting to confront.



it was 2008 that i got divorced.
the year that some serious learning happened for this young 21 year old.
i was a somewhat recent convert to the church when i went off to BYU Idaho.
i met a sweet man that was gentle, and quiet, and everyone adored him.
his name was s.
he was 26. i was 19.
and we were in love.
i can't remember a ton about our courtship, probably because it lasted all of 3 months before we were engaged to be married.  everything added up.  he was a great mormon boy from a great mormon family.  he served a mission in italy where my ancestors are from! and i loved going on walks with him and attempting to learn italian.  we made out in the back of my car, but never took things farther than that.  we couldn't keep our hands off each other—there was so much chemistry!  (or at least hormones.)

i remember meeting with my bishop while we were engaged.
he had met with s. individually prior, and he looked me in the eye and said, "d. do not marry this man. he does not have a testimony of Jesus Christ."
i was shocked and angry that my bishop could be so wrong!
what was he talking about?!
i honestly can not remember if i talked to s. about it or not.  but i now see that i truly was warned.

i can remember something about coming home crying one day with s. from church and saying that we couldn't get married when we wanted to for some reason.  i can't remember what the reason was….it might have been because his parents were leaving to China for the next year (so we had to get married a lot quicker…)  who knows..

needless to say, we were happy.
and so in love.
and so very young. haha
and i convinced my parents over the phone of what a great man he was and that i wanted to marry him.

my mother and grandmother came out to meet him.
like everyone, they immediately fell in love with him.
i was such a lucky girl.





in july, just 6 months after we met. we were sealed in the temple for all time and eternity.
my bridal room in the timpanogos temple was stunning. the purple matched my wedding colors and i beamed at the chandeliers.  i was happy on my wedding day.  no negative feelings, no premonitions from heavenly father that it was wrong.  it was just normal—busy and happy.

our luncheon reception ended at 2:00.   we decided to go swimming at my parents hotel (i think—or at least my family was swimming and we hung out and opened gifts).  we eventually got take out pizza from cpk and found our bed & breakfast—in no hurry at all.  everything i dreamed about our wedding night just fell apart.
we fell asleep without making love.
we woke up in the middle of the night, and awkwardly did it perhaps because that's what we both knew came next.

Our honeymoon was fun. The first month of playing house was a blast. we ate cereal on our apartment floor because we only owned a bed.  we got more comfortable with having sex that month—and it seemed life would be perfect.

s. is a great man.  if you met him you'd say, 'whats not to love?!'
we never fought. ever. he never raised his voice.  he would do anything i said.
he seemed like the sweetest, most innocent mormon you'd ever know.

things began to get weird after the first month.  i realized that he didn't seem to want my body.  the more aware of it i was, the more i recognized that we really didn't have sex very much.   i didn't say anything though, i wrote it off as he was shy about it.
well the days went by and weeks turned to months.

i can remember laying in bed one night and counted on my hands… it has been a month since we have slept together.  sure we slept in the same bed, but he was always turned away from me.  is this normal? i racked my brain.  am i not sexy enough?  should i try more experimental things in bed? how could he be tired of sex after just a couple months?  is it because i'm too fat? is it because i wear garments?

my thoughts went on like this.  he was so loving and pleasant to me, he would randomly bring home flowers.  i would clean my house like a mad woman and always made sure the floors were vacuumed right before he walked in the door.  i would cook for him the best i could.  i tried to be the best wife ever.
still. no intimacy at all.
not even a passionate kiss.
i always got a kiss hello and goodbye. but zero passion.  zero meaning.

i was becoming destroyed.
i began getting my nails done, bought new clothes, despised my garments (that i felt prevented me from being sexy), i started running again.
i felt like no matter what i did, my husband was not attracted to me.

we continued living as happy roommates while this pain plagued at me inside.
our lack of intimacy like the giant elephant in the room.
i honestly dont know why we never spoke of it.  was i afraid?  was it just awkward to talk about? i don't know.
i called my two other girl friends that were married and asked if they still had sex (we were about 8 months into marriage at this point).. all of them said "yes of course! its awesome!" and embarrassed, i replied, "Yeah us too.."

eventually we moved to a new state.  i was excited. i thought of it as a fresh start.
but nothing changed.
except i worked a new job.
at this new job, i showed my coworkers photos of my husband and smiled with them as i proudly showed him off.  i loved my work as a photographer and had the opportunity to train and work with the senior photographer, a handsome young man.

this handsome young man began texting me about work.
then about who knows what (because i really can't remember)
but this young man liked me.
and i really missed being liked.
eventually i learned that this man wanted me.
and i wanted him to want me.

i would come home, and fulfill my responsibilities as a wife to my husband and we enjoyed our time together. but my home was empty.  i began to despise our calling in the primary.  i felt no real love from s. i just felt like we were robots playing house.

i yearned to feel connected.
to feel loved.
to feel that i was the world to someone.
i wanted to be held.

so little by little, i let the young man from work into my life.
and eventually, i slept with that man.

much of my smart brain has blocked feelings and events out of my mind.
but i do remember thinking very illiogically.
i remember thinking, "i am not sober"  (i was not drinking..)
everything was clouded. and fog surrounded me.
i was miserable.
and i saw this as my way out.
my way to get what i needed.

i laid in bed next to this man and wept.
i knew clearly that that was the end of my marriage. that i would not get the house that we were soon going to buy.  that i would not get our new car.  that i had ruined everything.

i was shaking.
i was sick to my stomach.
but i almost felt relief.
i knew i was getting out of the pain and misery i was feeling.

i went to s. that week and sat on our couch.  he stood in the kitchen.
i cried and told him what i had done. i apologized. i explained what led me to it and how i felt.
i don't remember everything he said, but he was not as angry as i expected.
he calmed and said that he thinks he knows why i felt that way.
he told me he was addicted to pornography.

i had no clue that that really exists.

he told me he was not angry at me.
and it seemed he thought we could both forgive one another and move on.

i never asked questions. to this day i have zero idea when he did it or where, most of our marriage we spent 24/7 together (we worked together prior to our move..) except on wednesdays when i taught young womens.  i never had even the slightest idea. we were attending the temple every month. he was passing the sacrament…he had given me blessings..all unworthily. and we never spoke about it.

i can't really explain, unless you have felt it yourself, the lack of logic that goes into a life of serious sin. but i was not thinking straight.
the one thing i knew very clearly was:  this is not how a marriage should be.
cheating on someone is the worst thing you could do.
and i could not live with myself.

so i left him.
2 weeks later, he moved to arizona and I, back to my parents house (where just that month my mother decided to leave my dad as well).
sadly, i moved home and still stayed in contact with the young man from work for weeks.
i somehow in my clouded mind, thought that his temporal love could fill me.

it was empty.
i was still void.
and i cut ties with him.

i vowed to s. to never tell my family about his addiction, to save his face.  my family kissed the ground he walked on and they had a great relationship so i never told them.  i moved home with little explanation.  my father was fiery angry about my mother leaving him.   i know he was really hurt.  and i think he saw me as my mother.  he took some of his pain out on me.  he told the family i had cheated on my husband.  at christmas a month later, no one would speak to me.  i sat in a corner with my little sister, who made me so happy to have her.  i have another sister that really didn't talk to me for a very long time.  and it really was hard on me.  i love my family dearly and i was hurting terribly, and i wished they could understand and love me despite it...

not only was i dealing with my divorce, my unforgivable sin, and my parents divorce—but i then found out the boy from work gave me an std.

life just fell apart.

i had absolutely no one.
both of my parents were basically gone missing. my mom was living out of the house and we barely saw her. my dad quickly started dating some woman from online.  i felt a responsibility to take care of my little sister and brother who were still in high school and worried about how they were handling the divorce.
i was disgusted with myself.
and i felt like dirt to now have an std.
stds are for sluts right? hookers right?

i remember my father playing my wedding song on in the car—and my heart just burning.
i even came home one day to find my wedding dress laying on the bed.
he was trying to hurt me? to make me feel guilty? to force me to go back to s.?
at one point, he wrote me an email.  i wont allow myself to dig it up to remember what it said, but i remember balling my eyes out and thinking that no father should ever say those words to his daughter.
it was painful.
so very painful.
i have never felt so alone in my life.

after my dads letter i knew he needed to know the truth. i told him vaguely about s.'s addiction.  but i don't think it mattered.  my family is not lds and does not think pornography is a problem.  my family isn't mushy or lovey dovey so little is said about our feelings.  he never apologized.  but in my heart i had to forgive him.  so i did.  i knew he was hurting and recovering from his own divorce, and i could certainly empathize with that.  i have zero harsh feelings toward my father. he is a good man. and i love him.  he is only human like i am.

those months were dark.
i spent months just numb.  i fell into a bad spell and created bad habits.


around 9 months after i left s., i read a quote that said, ' no one cares if you are miserable so you might as well be happy.'
i knew i had to DO something if i wanted to ever be happy and get out of this black hole.
so i went to the bishop of the local singles ward.
i confessed all.
i had hit rock bottom.
i said, i dont care what happens to me or what my consequences are, i just want to be right with God.
i would do anything, to be happy again.


i cut ties with friends that were a bad influence. i spent my time alone.
i started running again, my therapy.
i stopped those bad habits and went back to a sober life of living the gospel.
and there I found lasting love and happiness that i had wanted for so long—I found my Savior.