Our New Vows

This is part fourteen of my story of recovering from my wife’s affair and rebuilding our marriage. If you haven’t already, please start at the beginning with part one.

At dinner on the first night of our cruise in early November, a few weeks before my wife’s affair began, I overheard people at a nearby table discussing how a couple in their group were planning to renew their vows while on the cruise.

I turned to my wife and quietly said, “When you hear that a couple renewed their vows, don’t you always wonder which one cheated?”

Ah, irony.

But in the aftermath of her affair, and in the process of recovering from it, the idea of renewal in our marriage did in fact hold a great deal of meaning for me. While we’re not the type of couple to go to the trouble of having an elaborate ceremony on some windswept beach, I did think that some type of symbolic gesture between us might be something that would help solidify our new bond.

Our marriage counselor, individual therapists, and books we had read all agreed that we needed to think along those lines. We are not trying to resurrect our marriage as it was. Our old relationship is dead and gone. What we’re doing is starting fresh and building a new, stronger relationship. Yes, we have the foundation of our old life together, but where that foundation had cracks, we need to construct a new one. And then we build a new, better life together from there.

We discussed doing some things privately between the two of us to commemorate our renewed commitment to one another. One of the first things we did was order new wedding rings. I had lost weight over the past several years, and mine was loose. I needed a new one anyway. My wife didn’t want to replace her existing ring, but she had been wanting a simpler band that she could wear instead most days.

We ordered some new bands, with our original wedding date inscribed on the inside (we went back and forth over whether that date fit with the “new relationship” theme, but that’s still when it all began for us) and an infinity symbol on the outside. The infinity symbol meant a lot to us. We have been reemphasizing to one another that we’re committed to each other forever.

We decided we would exchange the rings while on our short Valentine’s Day trip to the mountains. And while neither one of us wanted to get elaborate or cheesy, I did ask my wife if she would be open to the idea of writing new vows to read to one-another as we exchanged rings. With surprisingly little reluctance (she’s an introvert, and openly expressing her feelings in writing can be difficult for her), she agreed.

I feel a little bit awkward sharing these vows publicly. That may seem odd considering all that I’ve already shared, but these vows are so personal and heartfelt to us. Still, I’m reminding myself why I’m writing this here on Medium in the first place:

1. To help myself fully process my thoughts and feelings as we recover.
2. To possibly help others who might read this and who are going through something similar, just by sharing my experiences.
3. Because I can do it anonymously.

So because of those three things, I see no reason not to be fully transparent, even about stuff that feels really personal to us. My wife, by the way, is aware of and fully supports my writing on here, for the same reasons.

I wrote some pretty simple vows to say to her, touching on ways in which I had fallen short in our old relationship. In my vows to her, I pledged to do better in those areas:

I promise to listen to you. And I will trust that the words you say are true and meaningful to you.

I promise to hear you. And I will try to fully understand what you say, and learn new things about you, your wants and your needs.

I promise to appreciate you. And I won’t take you for granted ever again. I will admire you, desire you, and be grateful that you are here with me.

I promise to support you. And I will be there for the rest of our lives, cheering you on, building you up, helping you, wanting the best for you, and holding you in times of celebration and despair.

I promise to love you. And I won’t love you halfway. I won’t love you sometimes. I will love you completely and unconditionally, every day, forever.

I want to be clear about this again: the affair was not my fault. We had an imperfect marriage, and I’m a flawed human being. In these vows and in our discussions, I have acknowledged things I did, or didn’t do, in our past relationship that may have contributed to her negative feelings. But I did nothing to deserve my wife’s response to those negative feelings. There’s no excuse for her violating my trust and our commitment to one-another.

So these new vows should not be taken as a list of what I did to deserve what happened, but simply as a promise not to repeat those behaviors in our new relationship. My wife understands this, and to her credit, she has never placed any blame on me whatsoever. Not at all, not even one tiny bit.

Her new vows to me more directly addressed our current situation:

Twenty-four years ago, I promised to love, honor and cherish you. I have not stayed true to that oath.

You are the best father and husband anyone could ever ask for. You are kind, caring, supportive, and you go out of your way to ensure the kids and I are happy, healthy and loved.

I swear to you that, from this point forward, I will return the love, support and caring that I receive from you. I commit myself to you and our marriage one hundred percent.

I ask your forgiveness for the things I have done. I vow not to cause you any more tears, but instead to be the person who supports you when tears come.

I commit myself to fully loving you for the rest of our natural lives, no matter what ups and downs may come our way.

I happily look forward to the rest of my life with you — traveling, spending time with family, and enjoying the fruits of our lifetime together.

I love you — today, tomorrow and always.

I literally could not imagine more meaningful words from her.

I picked out some matching picture frames, and placed our new vows on top of a photo my wife took of a stream near the cabin we rented. We each have them on our bedside tables now.

I reread her vows several times a week. I’m always struck by how perfect those words are, and comforted by knowing that as long as she means them, we’re going to be okay.

Part fifteen.