The Story of the Walmart Bag
The one single thing that pushes wives of sex addicts over the edge and into divorce is not what you’d think.
- it isn’t the hookers, the gay bars, or the happy endings at massage parlors.
- it isn’t the nudist colonies, the drug use, or the phone sex.
- it isn’t the family dog, the hotel clerks, or the strangers on airplanes.
- it isn’t the transvestites, the strip clubs, or the lying.
- it isn’t emotional, financial, or spiritual abuse.
- it isn’t the lack of participation in the family, the complete emotional vacuum, or the lack of sex in the marriage.
- it isn’t the counselors, family, or friends urging us to run and not look back.
These things are incomprehensible and justified under the tidy little diagnosis of “sex addict”. We’re told our sex addicts can be cured and we believe it. We are told that it’s only sex. Our longstanding histories of abuse at the hands of our husbands are ignored. Personality disorders, which go hand in hand with sex addiction, are dismissed.
Is it any wonder then, that it’s often a tiny, seemingly insignificant thing that pushes us over the edge? For me, it was a Walmart bag.
He stormed into the living room with the full Walmart bag in hand. He stood over me, angrily grilling me for answers: Where did you get this? When? Why? What year? What month? I had long ago stuck the bag and it’s contents in the attic and forgot about it, so I really didn’t remember when I’d gotten it. In an effort to back him off, I guessed. Wrong move.
Turns out he had taken the bag to Walmart to determine when that particular logo was used on bags. He had then returned home to try to catch me in a lie. So when I guessed at a date, he pounced. He had his “proof” that I was a liar.
This man, who’d lived a twisted double life for decades, was trying to prove I was a liar by using a logo on a bag. This was a man who was so good at covering his tracks that he thought of every tiny detail, right down to when logos were used on bags. That level of deception doesn’t occur to normal people.
And that’s the exact moment I knew who I was dealing with, and it terrified me. I finally understood that he really was pathological, and I knew it was time to go.