Why I Do What I Do
Written by Tim Tedder
It’s natural to run from pain. So why do I step into it every day? Why have I spent years walking alongside people who feel more hurt than hope, who rage against the betrayal that broke their dreams, who cling to a fragile thread of possibility?
Because I’ve felt all those things myself—and because I’ve caused others to feel them, too. And because when I was in that dark period of my life, I longed to talk to someone who understood and could help guide me toward some glimmer of hope.
Long before I became a counselor, I betrayed my wife and family. In the aftermath, the guidance we received often did more harm than good. Affair recovery was reduced to simple black-and-white choices and an expectation of a fast recovery. But real healing isn’t about quick decisions. It’s about untangling pain, gaining deeper insights, becoming real, rebuilding trust… It’s about change.
Here’s what I believe about affair healing:
Healing is possible—even after deep betrayal.
We are capable of meaningful change.
Healing doesn’t look the same for everyone or every relationship.
Truth and vulnerability are more powerful than guardedness and shame.
Remarkable growth can emerge from deep failure.
I keep doing what I do because I want others to believe those same things, too.
Of course, not everyone comes to the same conclusions. The work is hard. For many, it is the most challenging process they will ever endure. And if I did not believe in the possibilities that genuinely await them, I would have no interest in sharing their struggle. But I get to be a witness to some wonderful stories.
Here’s an excerpt from an email I recently received from a woman who, with her unfaithful husband, came to see me about fifteen years ago: “Hi! I know it’s been many years since we chatted. [We] are celebrating our 22nd wedding anniversary tomorrow and we’ve been talking about all the ups and downs over the decades, the gratitude we have for the life and relationship we’ve sustained… and our conversation came back to you more than once. I just wanted to reach out, say hello, and tell you we are still so grateful for you. You were such a critical part of us surviving together, and we still utilize many of the tools you gave us so many years ago.”
Changes like that make this work worthwhile.
The past five years brought big changes: a move, a new practice, the pandemic, the shifting tides of family life, and the loss of both my parents. During those shifts, my creative work—writing, podcasting, offering new resources—quietly paused. But now, it’s time to start again.
In my late twenties, long before I considered becoming a counselor, I wrote this as my personal mission statement: “To creatively communicate a message of healing and hope to wounded people.” It’s not just what I do; it’s who I am.
New resources. New podcasts. New ways for those seeking healing to connect and grow. These are the paths I’m building now—ways to keep offering hope.
I can’t wait to see what’s next.