My husband and I have been married for two months and we’ve been together for four years. Trust was never an issue. Not once. I never felt the need to check his phone, or his social media. Until recently.

Something felt off. I had a gnawing feeling that wouldn’t go away. So, one night, I did it. I went through his phone. Embarrassing? Yes. Necessary? At the time, it felt like it.

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What I found shocked me. A naked picture. Not just any naked picture but a naked picture of Derrick’s ex-girlfriend. Derrick is his friend. Or was. I don’t even know anymore.

I confronted him. No games, no beating around the bush. “What the hell is this?” I asked.

He didn’t deny it. He admitted everything. According to him, Derrick sent the photo.

Apparently, they were talking about Derrick getting back with his ex. My husband told him, “She’s a beautiful girl. She’s worth another try.” Derrick answered, “What haven’t I seen before? I’ve seen all there’s about her.” Then my husband joked, “Oh really? Then let me see it too?”

And Derrick sent it.

I was disgusted. Not just by the photo, but by the entire conversation. What kind of friendship is this? What kind of boundaries—or lack thereof—are we dealing with here?

I asked him, “What were you thinking? Why would you even ask for that?”

His answer: “It was a joke. I didn’t think he’d actually send it.”

A joke. Right.

I don’t want to talk to Derrick about this. Bringing him into the conversation feels like stretching the issue too far. But I hate him for it. I hate that he sent that photo. I hate that he thought it was okay. And I hate that my husband didn’t shut it down immediately.

I’ve told my husband not to see Derrick anymore. I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t want him in our lives. And to his credit, my husband has taken a step back from Derrick. He’s apologized. Profusely. He’s promised it will never happen again.

But here’s where my mind goes: This girl looks nothing like me. Not even close. And now I can’t stop picturing my husband looking at that photo. Did he stare at it? Did he fantasize about her? Did he… you know what? I can’t even finish that thought without feeling sick to my stomach.

I see the effort he’s making. I believe he’s sorry. But trust? That’s a different story. Now, I’m constantly anxious. Where is he? Who is he talking to? What is he doing? It’s exhausting.

Can we move on from this? I don’t know. I want to. I really do. But trust isn’t something you can just flip back on like a light switch. It’s fragile. And once it’s broken, it takes time to rebuild.

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Here’s what I’m trying to figure out: How do I let go of the images in my head? How do I stop the anxiety from taking over? And how do I know if this is just a bump in the road or a sign of something bigger?

I don’t have the answers. Not yet. But I’m working on it. One day at a time.

—Mitchelle 

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