Ink and Healing: The Power of Handwritten Love Letters After Betrayal
My husband and I met in the 80s, well before cell phones. Handwritten notes, meticulously folded into urban jungle origami, were passed between classes. Words of curiosity were written on torn-out notebook paper, heavily guarded not to get snatched by another student, as they were our innermost private thoughts. Those exchanges were our lifeline, our intimate connection in a sea of adolescent uncertainty. Within those letters, we fell in love—madly, deeply, fully.
Years later, it’s all I wanted on special occasions from him: a handwritten love letter.
Granted, I did rather enjoy the robin egg-colored box with a white ribbon too; however, it was the accompanying letter, a tangible expression of affection, inked with sincerity and devotion, that warmed my heart and kissed my soul. Something about seeing it and then reading it brought me back to those feelings of intoxication—the butterflies, the heart skipping a beat—where the world faded away and it was just us.
Then one year, my husband commented that it would be easier just to buy an anniversary gift than to write a letter. That letter and subsequent letters that year changed ever so slightly. They felt off, forced, unnatural, and rushed; however, I dismissed those odd feelings they invoked in me, clinging to the remnants of our epic love story and offering myself an excuse of “he’s busy.”
In hindsight, each letter was drafted differently because of his betrayal.
The pen on paper gave it away. Even though, at the time, neither one of us realized it. Looking back on those letters, they screamed ‘Look out!’ due to their omission of affection, sincerity, and devotion.
The day that betrayal blindsided me, affectionately called Discovery Day by those who have been betrayed, and all the subsequent days thereafter, I was a shell of myself. Three words rocked my world. “I’ve met someone.”.
That’s a story for another day.
Back to love letters.
During our betrayal recovery journey, after the drips of trickle truth, my husband poured his heart out in daily letters for well over a year. Each morning, I woke to a meticulously folded, handwritten, often two-sided letter written on notebook paper. Each letter contained his handwritten confessions, devotion, remorse, sorrow, and re-commitment. Initially, since I was consumed by anger and skepticism, I approached each letter with a hardened heart, my nasty chic voice ready to pounce and dismantle his words. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, a subtle shift occurred. I began to see beyond the surface, to recognize the sincerity in his gesture and the vulnerability in his penmanship.
I saved each letter in chronological order—a memento, especially since I didn’t have any of those initial letters that we passed in the hallways when we initially met and fell in love.
I would find myself rereading past letters with each stage of healing to see if they invoked the same electrical charge and if my nasty chic voice would come out again, guns blazing, with each word that he had written.
As I healed, she started to settle down.
We are years removed from the betrayal, which we lovingly refer to as the asterisk on the number of years we’ve been married. I still receive handwritten letters on those special occasions, and sometimes the occasion is “just because.” For me, they are the best gift of all, as I don’t have to second-guess or mind-read what my husband’s thoughts are; he is telling me through the words handwritten on lined notebook paper.
I cherish them now. Within them lies our healing journey.
Healing is possible; there just needs to be a willingness to do so — and in my case, a good pen…
If you’re ready to explore this perspective further and transform your experience into a celebration of self-discovery and empowerment, I invite you to join my support group, read my book Dealing with the Devastation of Your Partner’s Betrayal | What to Do When Your World Falls Apart, or set an appointment to chat. Together, we can turn this challenging time into a powerful journey of healing and growth.
That’s all for today. If you’re new here and you’ve come this far, you’ll have to hit the follow button. Trust me, you won’t regret it. Otherwise, you might lose me forever.
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