Image credit: Photo by Liquid Lucidity on Flickr Licensed under Creative Commons

I've heard that the first year is always the hardest, whether it's the first year after you lose a loved one or end a relationship or start recovery. There are all those significant dates rolling around for the first time in your changed life. Last year on your birthday you were chatting with your dad, but this year he isn't around. Last year on New Year's Eve, you drank until you blacked out, but this year you're trying to do it sober. Last year on Valentine's Day, you had a beautiful night with your husband, but this year you know he spent that afternoon with someone else.

In the first year, those milestones serve as markers for the depth of the loss or uncertainty or instability. But as time goes on, those same dates become markers for progress, and that's what I'm feeling on this Halloween night...

On Halloween five years ago, I wasn't certain if my marriage would last another month. Just months after discovering my husband was a sex addict, I felt less like a human being than like a wounded animal, barreling forward, blind with rage and pain.

I remember my husband telling me, that first Halloween, how hard it was to navigate the world on a day when fantasy was indulged and accepted; a day that is for a sex addict like St. Patrick's Day to an alcoholic. And I remember how anxious I was the following Halloween, wondering what scantily clad witches or devils or pirate wenches would cross my husband's path.

But five years later, I can look back at each Halloween and see a little progress: progress in my detachment from my husband's addiction, progress in the intimacy of our relationship, progress in my own healing and spiritual growth. This year, my concern was more for maintaining my balance amidst cupcake commitments than it was for maintaining my husband's sobriety. And that made this a very happy Halloween.