Revenge burned through me when I caught my husband Trent with another man. I drafted scathing messages to his conservative family, ready to destroy his carefully constructed life like he’d destroyed mine. But our parking lot confrontation stopped me cold.
Trent’s raw confession—about growing up terrified of his own feelings, about meeting Colin and finally understanding himself—made me pause. The pain was still there, but so was recognition of his greater struggle.
I deleted those angry messages. Our marriage may be over, but I couldn’t compound his pain. Sometimes the bravest thing isn’t retaliation, but finding grace in life’s most devastating moments—for our daughter’s sake, and for our own.