Just because I didn’t invite my family in doesn’t mean I was killing it on my own. I caught on real fast that the echo chambers of my traumatized mind were no place to draw inspiration from. Some days I could have given Stephen King some awesome material. Just saying.

So church became my home away from home. All the activities, all the groups—I was able to fill my time in happy, healthy ways. I found laughter again. It heals. I recommend it highly.

Some work was just mine, though. I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror these days. Literally. It seemed that the confidence-beating that I’d taken had left me losing in the comparison game going on in my mind. It was a vicious cycle. I felt bad. I stopped taking care of myself. I thought about who he left me for. Repeat.

As understandable as my pity party was, staying there was not an option. It was doing less than no good for me or my daughter.

I had to make healing choices for both my body and my spirit. So I did. And just like that, the weight began dropping.

I forced myself to look in the mirror and speak affirmations until it finally became comfortable. It didn’t happen overnight. But it did happen.

And doing this work gave me back to me. Never again will I allow someone else’s judgment of me to rock me off my center. Not my husband’s or anyone else’s. This peace is worth all the work in the world. It makes any challenge easier. Less damaging. More overcome-able.

I wasn’t the only one doing work, though. Out of the blue during one of our visits, my husband said, “I’m almost done with my marriage enrichment certificate.”

I must have looked at him like he was speaking in tongues. It took my mouth a minute to be able to speak. “That’s great!” I finally said. “What are you learning?”

And so it came. All his work. All his learning. And, yes, nearly 4 years in, the apology. The most healing salve of all. My husband apologized to me for all he’d done. He even asked for my forgiveness.

Rather than ask him what took him so long—it did come to mind—I accepted it. I told him I’d forgiven him a long time ago. I had to for my own sake.

And you can sound the bell: I asked him to forgive me, too. So many layers of healing in these precious, few moments. A long time coming, no doubt. But oh, so worth the wait.