Full confession, humility needed to save marriage after affair

An extramarital affair does not have to end a marriage. There are couples who have faced this crisis and clawed their way to forgiveness and reconciliation. I have personal knowledge of nine such couples.

OK, the numbers aren't great.

Many people divorce on the spot. Others wail and weep and scream, then divorce. Others stay married, put on a brave face and go to their graves in an empty, marital farce. Still others stay married and spend the rest of their married lives embittering each to the other, stalking and punishing each other to their respective graves.

Frankly, divorce has more integrity.

But some couples stay married and find their way to real healing and wholeness. They are "born" into a new identity and a new -- and healthier -- style of marriage.

So, can we learn from these nine couples? Do they have things in common? Absolutely! Let's start with the offending party: the Wanderer.

The Wanderer comes clean. A comprehensive confession, once, finally and for all. Success rates go way down when Wanderers confess in 8 percent to 12 percent increments over four to six months. When the only available path to truth is for the betrayed mate to play district prosecutor, when the offended party is obliged to play a never-ending game of "20 Questions" in hopes of acquiring a full deck of cards ... well, this does not speak to good faith.

The Wanderer provides a quiet, sober and humble audience for outrage. Maybe two to three audiences and one matinee in that first two weeks. I don't mean the Wanderer allows violence or threats of violence. Nor does the Wanderer allow unending tirades of degradation. But come on, your mate is gonna need a reasonable period of time to be royally and righteously angry.

The Wanderer is willing to feel the agony of causing so much agony to the beloved. No dancing on this one. No making it about you. No bolting out of the house saying, "I just can't take this." No being pathetic. You stand there. You take it. You deserve it.

The Wanderer categorically severs all contact with the extramarital dalliance. Now. Immediately. By phone. None of this, "I've got to go over and tell him/her goodbye" nonsense. None of this, "But we work together ... I'll have to have contact." You don't stop the sex but then keep texting, e-mailing and phoning. Want your marriage? Sever all contact. Now.

For a period lasting on average three to 12 months, the Wanderer agrees to forfeit, without complaint or indignation, all claims on "trust" and "privacy." When the betrayed mate expresses fear, insecurity and suspicion, the Wanderer does not take umbrage and protest, "You have to trust me or we can't get past this!" The Wanderer does not get defensive and say, "I can't apologize for this for the next 10 years!"

Who said anything about 10 years? Are you deliberately missing the point?

If you want to save your marriage, then, for the next three to 12 months you'll abandon the chip on your shoulder that wishes you could get out of this with three Hail Marys and a Caribbean cruise. The Wanderer adopts a sincere posture of contrition, humility and empathy. He/she is hungry to account, grateful to answer questions for the third, fourth or 11th time.

Not forever. Not for 10 years. But for a while. Three to 12 months is reasonable.

The healing dialogue sounds like this:

Wanderee: "I could barely breathe when you were late from work. I was sick to my stomach. I kept imagining you with her/him."

Wanderer: "I'm so sorry you have to be in this pain. Of course that's what you imagined. I should have called. What do you need from me?"

Wanderee: "Are you still seeing her/him?"

Wanderer: "Thank you for asking, sweetie. No. I'm not seeing her/him. I'm yours. I'm committed to this marriage. I'll never lie to you again.

Wanderee: "I'm afraid to trust you."

Wanderer: "Of course you are afraid to trust me. I haven't been trustworthy. It's going to take time for you to trust me again.

And, lastly, the Wanderer maintains a commitment to self-respect. Of course you won't spend the next 10 years begging for forgiveness. Of course you won't tolerate unending mistrust, suspicion, derision and withholding of sexual courtship. If, after 12 months of good-faith efforts, the betrayed spouse is still punishing and harping and snooping and anxious ... well, then you'll make your own claim:

"Forgive me, trust me, love me ... or leave me. Because I'm going to forgive myself and go on. I've apologized for the last time."

Next week, we'll look at the game plan of the betrayed spouse: the Wanderee.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling Wellness Center in Las Vegas and the author of "Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing" (Stephens Press). His columns appear on Tuesdays and Sundays. Questions for the Asking Human Matters column or comments can be e-mailed to skalas@reviewjournal.com.