Has infidelity left you feeling irrelevant or expendable? Candace understands that pain. Now an invaluable member of our Affair Recovery team, she speaks with people weekly to help them take a first step toward healing through our courses. Candace is involved in group leadership, alongside her husband, drawing from their own experience. Her deep well of empathy, wisdom, and knowledge is invaluable to those navigating the healing journey. - Rick Reynolds

Two Words

Irrelevant and expendable. Those are the two words I chose to describe how my husband's infidelity made me feel.

Four years, two months, and twelve days, that's the amount of time between my first Discovery Day (D-day) in 2020 and the moment I told my husband I wanted to stay married to him while standing on the beach in late 2024.

Yes, that's over four years! For those of you who think I must be insane, cruel, or the most indecisive woman on the planet, I can assure you, I am none of those things.

I was traumatized, just like you might be right now.

There's something here for every reader. For the betrayed spouses, I am going to share the evolution of what I needed in order to heal from the trauma. For the wayward spouses, I am going to relay some semi-pro tips for you to consider.

Buying Time

In the early days of recovery, I didn't believe my marriage could be saved. In fact, I was 99% certain I was going to file for divorce. The only reason I didn't right away was because my twins were about to start their college application process, and I wasn't willing to make any sudden moves that might derail their success.

I agreed to take EMS Online and Harboring Hope as a way to buy time, but to be clear, I had zero hope. Affair Recovery tells people that healing from infidelity can take anywhere from 12 to 36 months. My husband could deliver one heck of a TED Talk on how to easily stretch that timeline into 51 months!

I endured three more D-days before I found myself sorting through the rubble, barely standing, shell-shocked, and in the basement—the literal rock bottom.

Each D-day was worse than the last. By the 4th and final D-day, I was certain there was no coming back from it. I was convinced I was destined for divorce, and if I survived at all, I would always walk with an emotional limp.

I didn't have a checklist of what I would need in order to stay, because staying wasn't on the table.

It was during EMS Online that I first started to see glimmers of the possibility, but those glimmers never lasted long. I changed my mind about staying constantly, every day, 20 times a day, for over a year. But little by little, that volatility began to lessen.

There were so many internal battles to conquer.

The Anger is Real

Right out of the gate, I was irate that my husband even wanted to stay married. I recall saying to him, "It's SO YOU to have the audacity to think you're entitled to a vote on staying after what you pulled. The only thing you should be saying is that you'll agree to get out, I can have the house, the kids, the cat, and half your paycheck for the rest of your life!"

Yes, I was that angry.

For a long time, I believed seeking vengeance was the only thing that could ease the excruciating pain I was feeling. I wanted justice!

I was furious that my husband wasn't fired from his job. Early on, I wanted him to feel the shame of being let go for cause. I wanted him to tell ALL our family and friends who he really was and expose the double life he had been living. I wanted the world to know what he did to me.

I wanted the affair partner's husband to know every horrid detail of the infidelity. I wanted their marriage to go up in flames. And while I was at it, I wanted her to lose her job too! But that wasn't all. I wanted my husband to apologize to the affair partner's husband. I wanted him to show remorse, not just to me, but to everyone he deceived.

My hurt manifested as rage. I wanted to scorch the earth and take names. Curious how that all played out? I got none of what I wanted.

It wasn't that my husband refused, it was that our therapist, a specialist in infidelity recovery, advised against the vast majority of my long and detailed vengeance wish list. I trusted and respected their guidance, but I resented the hell out of it. It felt like my husband was getting off way too easy. House arrest didn't seem like proper retribution for destroying families.

Trapped by Shame

And then, there was the shame. But Candace, you're the betrayed spouse, why did you feel shame? Oh, we could do an entire article on shame alone.

I felt trapped between two conflicting narratives:

1. If I left, I felt I'd be judged for walking away from a husband who was now committed to doing whatever it took.
2. If I stayed, I saw myself as weak, pathetic, and worst of all, a terrible role model to my daughters. What self-respecting person would tolerate that kind of treatment?

For those trying to make sense of the chaotic timeline, those multiple D-days set us back significantly. Instead of being ten months into recovery, we were at square NEGATIVE after ten whole months.

I hated him. I hated my life. And I hated myself.

I Wanted Him to Quit

I kept waiting for my husband to throw in the towel. I even tested him every once in a while by saying things like, "This house has five exit doors. Take your pick." He insisted every time this was the only place he wanted to be. Those damn glimmers of hope kept resurfacing, no matter how hard I tried to drown them out. What created those glimmers of hope?

His words were worthless for quite some time. He understood that I needed to see genuine, long-term transformation, consistent choices, and good behaviors over time.

Little by Little

This created a sense of safety and stability. I needed my husband to prove he could be safe, both for himself, and for us. It had to happen long enough that it felt authentic, neither forced nor desperate. Most importantly, I needed to see that he was changing for himself, not just changing to try to keep me.

What did that look like at first?

1. He remained committed to individual and couples therapy with an infidelity expert. Bonus points get awarded, because for the past four years, he's been the one scheduling every single appointment—not me.
2. He sought expert advice on how to disclose the truth to our then teenage daughters in an age-appropriate way.
3. He developed a structured travel plan to create safety, not just around business trips, but in all his daily interactions with female coworkers. Those same boundaries extend to female friends and strangers, no matter how safe we understand them to be.
4. He became mindful of behaviors he knew were triggering to me, not because they were infidelity specific, but because they were reminders to me of that era. They were things like aggressively weaving through traffic, being glued to his cell phone, and displaying outbursts of impatience or rudeness towards others.

Beyond those things, my husband made tangible, physical changes. Before recovery, we rarely watched TV together at night. There was no effort to compromise on a show, no attempt to even sit in the same room. On the rare occasion we watched something as a family, he'd be on one sofa, fixated on his cell phone, while my daughters and I sat together on the other sofa.

Post D-day (the final one), everything shifted. He made a point to find shows we'd both enjoy, sitting right next to me, phones out of sight, fully present. And he was the one who suggested we start going to bed at the same time. This was something that had never been a priority before. It was a small change, but a meaningful one. A quiet, consistent reminder that he was choosing us every night.

One of my favorite things my husband did (without any prompting from me) was he contacted his first Hope for Healing group leader and apologized for the fraudulent recovery efforts he made during that first 17-week course.

Here's a quick side story to tell you just how awesome our group leaders are. His group leader totally could have said, "Thanks man. Wish you well," and that would have been totally understandable. Instead, he offered to stay in contact with my husband. They've been friends and accountability partners for the past 3 years!

Speaking of group leaders, my husband has become a leader in training for Affair Recovery groups. This allows him to stay connected to the course work, as well as give back to the Affair Recovery community.

Trust Was Being Rebuilt

It spoke volumes to me that my husband never asked me to protect his image or silence my pain. He let me own my story and wasn't horrified when I wanted to turn it into a career.

He was my biggest supporter when I was interviewing at Affair Recovery. He didn't freak out when I started blogging (or vlogging) about our baggage, drama, and trauma. He was literally standing 10 feet away as I recounted my comeback after betrayal and recorded a survivor speech for our Hope Rising 2024 conference.

In recovery, experts say:

The volatility is too great to measure in any shorter increments. To sum that up in just one word: Retrospect

What progress was I able to look back and see, but could not have foretold?

Here's an example of what I mean. Our twin daughters will graduate from college this June. Earlier in recovery, we needed to make hotel reservations near their schools for graduation weekend. Even though we had settled into a comfortable daily routine, the thought of deciding if my husband and I needed to reserve one hotel room or two, gave me anxiety upon more anxiety.

Just a few months ago, the hotel called to confirm our reservation for just one room. I confirmed, without any hesitation. Days later, it hit me: I no longer felt afraid to picture us together in the future.

Fears Subsided

I also noticed that I had let the expert guidance I had received 4 years previous finally sink in. My fear that I was being a poor model to my daughters if I stayed in the marriage had been mitigated. My therapist had reassured me, probably no less than ten times, that what we were modeling was resilience, strength, and emotional growth. She emphasized that children who witness their parents navigating adversity with honesty and effort often grow into stronger, more resilient adults than those who never see their parents struggle at all.

That same therapist, early in recovery, would ask me how various aspects of the betrayal made me feel. I always used the same two words: irrelevant and expendable. If you had told me back on D-day 2020, that four years later, I would describe myself as loved and empowered by the man I married, I would have thought you were talking about the wrong Candace.

Retrospect allowed me to admit to myself that I (apparently) didn't need to receive vengeance in order to heal. I noticed how good it feels to allow my husband to show up as the new person he has worked so hard to become.

I have regained my ability to look into the future without fear or anxiety. October of 2024 was when I knew it was no longer about deciding whether to stay in my marriage. It was about choosing to build something entirely new—together.

It wasn't because the past had been erased, but because the future had been earned. It wasn't because I forgot who we were, but because I finally was able to see who we had become.