Like the Phoenix…..

Day 4.  I am better this morning than I was yesterday morning.  Not as good as last night.  I have let him go, let any desire for him blow away with the emotional cyclone he put me through.  I never want to see his face again, I have deleted every picture so I won’t accidentally come across his face, and have to remember how I loved this asshole.

It’s the treachery, the deception, the idea that he thought it was perfectly ok to lead me on all week, to blow my world apart.  That he couldn’t man up, and tell the truth to me, and let me go when I was asking to go.  Such a narcissist, one of the worst I have ever known.  Worse than my ex-husband, and I thought he was the worst ever.  My ex’s lies were just random, about what he was doing, often stories he made up and believed, that were so obviously lies it was almost humorous.  (Though laughing at him brought on his scary scary temper.)  He never set me up emotionally just to punch me in the stomach, just to knock me down and stomp on me.  He was a sick f**k, but S is so much sicker.

Yes S, it turns out you were much like him, as you said.  You were him, taken to a new level that was past my ability to think was possible.

I have known many people abused as children, though his story was one of the worst.  But he’s smart, he could have crawled out of it.  He used to say he didn’t have a filter.

No, S, it’s not a fucking filter.  It’s a conscience.  You said you were developing one?  That’s a laugh.  Really…you are so full of shit. You like chaos, you like hurting people because you NEVER dealt with your own hurt in a productive way.  So you project it, and you act out on as many people as possible, in as intense a way as you can.  And some unsuspecting person like myself, that just saw the possibilities of you instead of the reality,comes along, you must have been fucking drooling to set me up and watch me fall.

Like you said, it’s your karma.  If you had a belief in anything, that would be ok, but you don’t.  You’re a cold, dead heartless man.  I am so glad to be rid of you.  And not to have lost any more than i did.  You ought to go crawl in a hole and stay there, until sensory deprivation makes you forget everything you know, and you have to be reborn.  Go to the monastery, like you talked about.  And stay there.  Then you can’t continue to hurt people for your own gain. (Yes he used to talk about doing that for 6 months.  I used to laugh, I am thinking the monks would exorcise him before they’d let him in.)

I have my book club tonight, I’m grateful for that.  To be with friends who live on the other side with me will be just what I need.  A has still been beside me through all of this. He texts me all morning, during the day, in the evening.  He still tells me he loves me, and we know it’s just an unconditional love he has, that we will always be good friends. He sends me music, pictures of the southwest. Just being sweet, kind, loving, talking me down if I need it (tho I think I was done with that after the first 48 hours), showing me reality in a kind, but firm way.  He has always turned out to be the blessing in my life.  He is diametrically opposed to S, and I am sure that he was put in my life to make me see the difference between a creep and an angel.  I wish it had been S I cut off for A, a couple months ago.  Not the other way around.

My friend Megan from here has been so helpful to me too.  She and I have so many of the same issues, and we have had a running conversation with each other comparing notes, and trying to understand this sick narcissism.  So the blessings that have come from his treachery far outweigh the pain, and the pain was unbearable.  But the duality is, there is equal joy that grows out of the ashes.  Like the Phoenix, I will rise. I will be better, happier, and more loving.  No stupid man who thinks the darkness is where it’s at, is ever going to have too much effect on me.


Wow, This is So Hard.

This is hard.  Really hard.  I think the universe did me a favor, really, in my head I know this.  I needed something from which there is no return, I needed the bridge to be burned, to begin the letting go. And as my close friends, and my son, have told me, this relationship has been bad since the beginning.  It’s what I said, when, a month ago, he told me she was back in his life.  He somehow convinced me that those words didn’t mean what I thought.  But in the end, they did.  What they meant is exactly what I thought they meant.  He was not just talking to her.  She was back in his life.  I should have stayed with my gut, it never lies.  I knew it then.  I knew it last night, i knew it this morning.

He came here, when I was losing my mind a month ago, a few days after he told me she was back in his life.  He got right in his car and came here.  He told me the night that he said she was back in is life that he wished I’d be happy for him, that was all he ever wanted, when he left a voice mail.   Then when I saw him that night, he said, he meant all he ever wanted was MY happiness. That he thought I’d be happy because I knew he had so many loose ends,questions that had never been answered with her. But when he told me it was my happiness that he wanted,  I cried, and I melted, and I took him to me, and loved him again.  And it was all a lie.  She was all he ever wanted, just like I first thought.  My happiness was not even on the table.  So played.  She must have played him, not wanting to see  him right away.  He was hedging his bets, I guess.  In case she didn’t want him, he’d still have me.

God I am stupid.  As if the words “She’s back in my life” can be misunderstood.

S always said water seeks it’s own level.  Usually it was in reference to me, still being with him when he treated me badly.  But I see the wisdom now.  I could never seek the level he wanted.  I could just not do it, it was so far from what I wanted.  Betty Boop…she wants it. She wants a relationship, at least, from what he told me of their past, where there  is no communication all week, except maybe a “are we on for the weekend?” message, email…and then get together for a lustful weekend.  He thinks that’s love.  Now that someone has really loved him, I wonder if it will ever be the same for him.  If he’ll figure out that sex is not love, but should be an expression of it.  He knew that with me.  Because I told him, those exact words. Now he has the words….from me, to fool himself with her. ]

He chose the level he’s comfortable with.  He was never comfortable with my level.  Too much emotion, raw emotion from me.  Too much truth on the table.  And I could stay with it, physically, emotionally.  I only ran when he made it all about a physical relationship.  Ran.  Told him a hundred times, we want different things.  Go get what you want, I don’t want that.  So…he has what he wants.  He doesn’t have to be accountable, he doesn’t have to acknowledge emotions that are uncomfortable for him.  He can pretend that sex is love, and he can set himself up to be hurt again….I feel bad about that, really, but it’s his choice.  It’s his comfort level, and he has no desire to rise above it.

I still see him, I still feel him.  I know when he’s with her tonight, and tomorrow, he will be held back by the scope of what he did to me.  I hope he is.  I hope he finds he cannot fuck people over that easily.

He should have taken some time off from either of us, and figured out what he wanted, and met with me face to face.  But he’s not able to stand on his own two feet, he’s not able to man up, and face the consequences of the choices he makes.  I deserved so much better.

He says he told me he was no good, that he would hurt me.  I said, so what, that relieves you of no accountability for what you have done.  So what if you know who you are?  You don’t change, and you think I’m gonna write it off?  Make excuses for you?  That’s the most pathetic of statements.  “I told you I’m bad,and I’m bad.”  It implies I should excuse it, because after all he told me he would do it.  Just like he told me about the prison whore, last winter.  When he fucked the hooker as a test….this is just another prison whore.  Just another test for him.  To see…..

He reads this.  He will know what I mean.

Shoudda, wouldda, couldda.  He wrote it all off.  I need to do the same.  Just putting things right in my mind.  Trying to make sense of senseless hurt.  Senseless pain.  Unspeakable cruelty.  And really, unbelievably stupid, ego-centered but self destructive decisions on the part of someone I loved.   Of course, when the ego rules, it is always self destructive.  That’s how the ego keeps power, by lying to the heart.

A month ago when he told me she was back in his life….I was driven by jealousy.  I could not stand the thought of him with another woman.  This time, almost a month later, it’s not jealousy.  If that’s what he wants, he better go for it, because I will never fuck a man over like she did, and if that’s what makes him comfortable, then he needs to be with her.  But how he played me, how he purposefully made me think something else was going on between us, how he manipulated me for his own benefit, not giving a good goddam whether or not his actions would devastate me, that’s what’s unforgivable.  At least for now.  To use another human for your own purposes is the lowest of the low.  She used him…in their last relationship.  I would guess he also used her.  They are both users.  Liars. Manipulators.  They belong together.  I don’t belong with him.

But the pain of what he did to me will take some time to get over.  The way he devastated so easily my emotional landscape.  For his own prurient interests.  And I fucking loved this man, as he’s never been loved before.

I guess this is it for now.  There will be more.

Well-Played. Another Story of Betrayal, but This One is True

Last weekend, the day of the eclipse, I hadn’t talked to S in 2 or 3 days, and was fine with it.  But I thought it was a really sucky way to end a relationship, so I texted him “Are you really never going to talk to me again?”

We texted.  That’s all we ever did.  A torrid texting affair. Why did I care?  Idk, I always saw the good in him, the desire to be good, the desire not to fuck things up.  I once gave him an inner child crystal, because his inner child was so tortured. That day, his whole tone changed with me, as if heard me (thus, the poem “The Gift of Being Heard.)  Well I might have been heard, but I was still fucked over.

All week, we texted intimately.  I LONGED for him, I wanted him so bad.  He talked of doing intimate things with me, alluding to the weekend.  I held back asking for plans, it’s always been the kiss of death for me with him.  He likes to feel he’s driving the train, and that things are spontaneous.  Just yesterday, I sent him intimate pictures of me, because he asked.  But he was quiet last night.  Before I went to bed I asked him “S, is something wrong?  Please talk to me.”  He answered that he fell asleep on the couch…we texted a few times, and said goodnight.  I thought everything was ok.   Just this morning, he texted me at 4 am.

Then, no word.  I sent him one text, but held back….fearful of ruining it.  But then I got this text….

“I don’t know how to deal with this…so I am just going to say it.  I am going to be with someone else this weekend.  I am busy and don’t want to talk about it.  Peace.”


Well, you all know the wave of emotions that hit you like a tsunami.  Like you can’t breathe, you can’t think, you can’t talk.  My son was in the room with me, and I’d been waiting for my phone to update to go somewhere.  This text was the first thing I saw when it was done.  I managed to say to my son, “Well the phone’s done.  I’m gonna go.”  He was leaving for work soon, won’t be home til later, and will never know what S did to me today.  Bad enough, I told my son last night I’d be going to S”s or he’d probably be coming here tonight. My son scolded me for being stupid, told me that S has made me cry more than his father.  Why am I being so stupid about him?  But all I have to say is that we decided not to, and let it fade.  I haven’t seen much of S for months, my son won’t think much of it, except he’ll be glad he doesn’t have to deal with him.  I am ashamed and embarrassed at how I made excuses for S with my son.  Geezus.  The kid at 23 is 100 times the man S will ever be. He’s a stand-up honest and decent young man.  I thought if nothing else S was honest with me.  I have said so here….that he was an honest and decent man…  If only I could re-write history.

So played.

The thing is, I had hope all week.  I really did.  But I knew…he’s capable of withdrawing on a dime.  I asked him many times in the last few weeks, are you seeing Betty Boop?  Does she want to get back together with you?  He said always that he only talked to her a little, and he didn’t know.  Always.

He played me. Big time.  I loved him so much and he used it, to make himself feel good.  He loved my adoration, the way I was always there. We finally talked around noon, because I told him if he didn’t man up and call me that I was gonna show up on his doorstep, and tell Betty Boop about me.   He said he’d been weighing one of us against the other all week.

And that’s where I got mad.  FURIOUS.  What right does he have, to put me in competition with another woman and not tell me????  Or her??? Who the fuck does he think he is???  Fucking playing God with me. As if I’d have stuck around if I thought they were doing anything more than talking.  What a fucktard.  I am still so angry at that.  Had he chose me, would he ever have told me that I almost lost to her?  Would I ever have known the truth?  He must have seen her, I haven’t asked, I don’t want to know.  (hear Stevie Nicks in the background singing Silver Spring “I don’t want to know….”)

I told him he should have told me.  And her, and let us both make up our minds if we wanted to be in that triangle.  Because I for sure didn’t.  Don’t. Won’t EVER with any man, compete for his attention.  I loved him well, unconditionally, and he repaid me this way?  Thinking that was ok?

He said, she knows about you now.  I said, “Does she know that you asked for a picture of me last night???  That you texted me at 4 AM this morning???”  No…he said.  THEN TELL HER.  LET HER MAKE UP HER MIND.  YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO PLAY GOD WITH HER ANYMORE THAN YOU DID WITH ME.

He has called me about 5 times since then.  Because I told him, if I ever have the opportunity to tell her, I will.  (Though I don’t know her last name, so I can’t even look her address up.)  He asked why I can’t just let things unfold.  I said, this is how they unfold when you fuck someone over.  When you play people, when you hurt people, when you use people.  This is how they unfold.

But the universe will make sure she knows.  Besides, I am pretty sure that a woman who left him when he thought he was dying, (he had cancer, and only an experimental drug saved his life, and a philanthropic organization that paid for it but the drug came along after she split, she thought he was dying)  and took him for as much as she possibly could, to run off and get married to someone she’d been cheating on him with, is playing him too.  They deserve each other, and what they get. I told him, that’s all he thinks he deserves, that’s all he’s gonna get.

I am wordy, I have been sending him long texts telling him what a fuckup he is, and why.  And he knows I’m right.  But he’s stuck on this woman that will hurt him again, whatever.  He said, “this is the #1 reason I don’t want you.”  the wordy texts, the righteous indignation.  I said, “OH it’s so much harder to take my righteous indignation than a woman who will leave you when you’re dying, and who’ll take you for all she can, and run off and get married to someone she cheated on you with.”  Yeah, I can see how my truthful words are harder to take.

God he’s a real piece of work.  I sure know how to pick ’em.

I will always love this man’s soul, because that’s what unconditional love is, but I never want to see him again.  I know, I am sure, (he says I’m overconfident), because I know him, I see him, he has told me everything, things that she doesn’t know and I’m sure never will…and I was still there for him, because I could see his soul, that I loved him better than any other person in his life.  I still see his soul, and will always know he is capable of so much more.  But the human that he is…needs to stay clear of me.  Enough heartbreak for one man to accomplish.

I’m gonna get back on that horse and ride.  I haven’t cried yet, I hope I don’t.  I have wasted way too many tears on him, he has broken my heart more often than my ex did.  My ex…didn’t break my heart in the traditional sense.  He became someone I could not love, romantically.  S….has broken my heart, I loved him 1000 times more than any other man.  But I don’t want to cry for him again.  I want to actively pursue someone who can appreciate a woman who can love beyond reason, beyond all measure, both emotionally, spiritually, and physically.

I told him, finally, that he will miss me.  And he will.

The Power of Unconditional Love, A Personal Story

This morning I was struggling.  The aftermath of my outburst last week was wreaking havoc with my emotions.  I was at work, thankfully busy, but every minute I was alone, I was in tears.  This afternoon, I became kind of numb to it.  Mostly because I have no control over the outcome, and my brain on overload just shut the emotions down.  I made it through the day numb.  Comfortably numb.

I worked late, on purpose, so that I wouldn’t sit home thinking about it.  On the way home, after a 10 hr day, I began to think about it again.  I said to myself, “So, if the worst happens, will it be the worst thing you have ever lived through?”

The answer is no…absolutely not.  I began to remember, in full living color, the darkest days of my life.  I got through them.  Successfully.  I triumphed.  I decided to write about it, I am ready now, to see it in perspective, and to recognize my own strength, my own intuition, my own gut instinct.

It begins with my son.

I moved out of my old house in March 2007, after 30 years of marriage.  I didn’t file for divorce until the beginning of August that year.  The reasons, the singular event that made me realize I HAD to file, for me but even moreso for my son, is another whole blog.  Just let me say, I had my reasons and they were compelling.

My son lived with his father.  My son played hockey, for over a decade I knew myself as a “hockeymom”.  His father controlled his hockey career.  Was his coach, his advisor, and his biggest and most cruel critic.  It was a control mechanism for his father.   His father used hockey to control my son, and he used my son to control me.

Example:  One day my son and I were going to go to the mall.  My ex normally hated shopping trips, hated the mall, had a bad back so hated walking around the mall.  But this day, he decided he wanted to go. He didn’t want my son and I alone without him.  Control.  We had been at each other’s throats for days, I did NOT want to sit in a car with him to the mall, and have to deal with him all day.  My son and I loved going together.  We would go to Dunkin Donuts, and fast food, and do all the things that his father didn’t allow.  Before we got home we’d have to empty the car of all the wrappers and bags, but we’d always be laughing.  So this day, his dad decided to go, and I couldn’t cope with his dad.  Simple.  I told his father he could go and I’d stay home and get some work done.  He insisted we all go together.  I thought I would lose my mind if I went, so I kept saying no.  He got my son on the phone and told him, that he was sorry, but he wouldn’t be able to coach him anymore, or go to his games, or practices, and that they wouldn’t be able to spend much time together because his mother, me, wouldn’t do what he wanted.

Those were his words, exactly.  My son became hysterical, he was maybe 11, and screamed at me, “Mom, what are you doing?  You HAVE to go, I’m going to lose my father….”

Needless to say I went.  I drove.  My son and I sat in the car, waiting for his father to come to the car so we could leave.  His dad finally came out, beer in his hand, got in the car, and said to my son, ” See what a little pressure can do?”  He was PROUD of his behavior.

So there you have it…the control factor.

When I moved out, my son lived with my ex, due to the hockey factor.  It was the main event of our lives.  My son refused to spend a night with me, or come over unless his father insisted.  He was terrified of angering his father, whose temper was volatile and scary.  He was 6’2″, about 250 lbs.  He had arms as big as most men’s legs and was strong as an ox.  When I filed for divorce, my ex kept trying to talk me out of it.  As I said, my reasons were compelling for any sane woman, and I refused to “pause” it as he asked.  My court date wasn’t for 2 months.  I had to get through those 2 months and then I would have some rights to see my son.  I could not help my son if I had no access to him.

I had been paying for all 3 cell phones.  After all, I was the one, only one, bringing money into the household.  We lived off my check.  I had continued to pay for them, because additional phones were only $10 a month or something.  When I refused to stop the divorce proceeding, my ex bought he and my son new cell phones, and they refused to give me the numbers.  I know my son refused because his father told him to, we have discussed it since.  My son was 15, and trying to survive.

But this meant, that I couldn’t call my son.  I called the house phone, they shut the ringers off.  I had no way to contact my son, and see if he was ok.  If you can imagine, he was living with a man who thought nothing of hurting him, in order to get to me.  And I was unable to even check on him.  So, about 3 times a week, I would go over to my old house and bang on the door, and beg my son to come out, and just give me a hug.  I was generally sobbing hysterically.  He would hug me until I calmed.  We might have a brief conversation, but mostly I just wanted to see he was ok.  To see him.  To hold him, my only child.  I knew that his father was on the other side of the door, listening to every word we said.

But I knew, instinctively, that my son needed to know that I loved him, that I was still standing, no matter what he threw at me.  He needed to know that I knew what was going on, and that I would never stop loving him.  Ever.  For two months, I stood there crying, telling him I loved him.  I asked nothing of him, except once in awhile, his phone number when the pain became too strong.   He would always say, “soon Mom, I’ll give it to you soon….”

Fast forward to a court date, where I got visitation, court ordered.  And the phone numbers, court ordered.  And it still took another month before my ex would abide by the orders.  He continued to play games with the phones.  But, I had 4 hours minimum with my son every week.  Dinner twice a week, and supposedly every other weekend.  I still was not allowed to drive him to hockey games, or practice or home.  Since he played both days of every weekend, my time with him was limited.

But…it was enough.  I showed him a different way to live.  He became glad to come over.  He still struggled with his father’s control, but eventually, he was riding his bike over to my house when it wasn’t my time, hiding his bike inside my house, just to have some “free” time.

Eventually, a year and 2 months after I filed for divorce, he left for school from his father’s house, and came home to my house.  He never went back.  He left EVERYHING, he came with the clothes on his back.  I had bought him a pair of jeans and a few shirts, long before, on the off chance he wanted to stay with me unexpectedly.  But I had to take him out and buy him a new wardrobe for school.  He didn’t want to even look at his father.

That was his freedom day, Sept. 29, 2008.  I got him counseling, I talked with him, we worked through a lot of really hard stuff.  It was not easy.  But today, I am so proud of the young man he’s become.  Just so proud.

Now, I’ve been known to say there is always a lesson.  We don’t always know what the lesson is.  Sometimes it comes years later, sometimes we never recognize it.  But the lesson here, for me, was simple, and is the core of my spiritual beliefs now.

Simply….the power of unconditional love is greater than any other power in the universe.  Nothing that evil can do can hold a candle to the light of unconditional love.  Fear, and anger, and hate…..have no power when faced with unconditional love.  I don’t know why I was so blessed to know this, instinctively.   Back then I had not one spiritual thought in my head.  But I loved my son, unconditionally and always.  This love gave him a place to go, a path out of the dark chaos that his father would have us in forever.  I take no credit for this.  I was the conduit for a source, an energy, much greater than me.  It came from somewhere, flowed through me, to my son.  And saved both our lives.

Back to this morning….I hope the power in unconditional love brings a happy ending to my struggle.  Is it a difficult struggle, yes.  But the worst of my life…No. I am strong.  I triumphed over the ugly, the cruel, the mean, and so did my son.  I will get through it, however it turns out.  I am strong, stronger than I ever knew.  I’d been forgetting that lately.  I make mistakes, I am good, bad, imperfect, loving, kind, mean, and crazy, at any given moment.   I’m working on it all.  But I am strong, all the time.  I’ll grow, I’ll get better.  Because I am strong.  And I know where real power comes from.

What Is Going On With A?

Some of you may remember A, the guy I dated after S did the prison whore, and then on and off as S and I went through our 2 week on-off cycles. A had a plan to sell his 3800 sq. ft. home and live with his 44 yr old son out of a camper. Which he did.  Put about 30,000 miles on his truck in 6 months. Finally, I realized that #1, I would never want an intimate long distance relationship, #2, that I was not really attracted to A in any kind of long term intimate way, #3, that the continuing communication wit him, mostly via text, was a distraction to me figuring out what I really wanted.

I communicated this to A, and he responded by trying to change my mind.  Just before this, he had been talking about buying a bigger motor home (the one he had was tiny, 150 sq. ft.) “in case you want to visit me” was his first reason.  I didn’t respond to that.  Because, it’s just not an idea I could wrap my mind around, and assumed there were other reasons, like even for his son and him there was no privacy in the small one.  I had seen it, it wasn’t really pleasant in any way.  He said that about the time he asked me if I’d have time to visit him next summer.

In talking to me after my communication, he told me that he would never get remarried (he is a widow of just over a year), which is fine with me because marriage is not an idea I ever want to visit again.  He also told me he planned to be homeless and live out of the camper/motor home for a couple of years because he was enjoying their travels so much.  He said he had wanderlust enough to last a long time.  When he left CT he had a plan to be in Santa Fe by this fall, then go back to his brother’s ranch in TX, then decide where they might want to stay for next spring/summer, but he loved Santa Fe the best, it was his first choice.

Now, I think it is fine for someone to follow their dream, or their bliss, it is, in fact, what anyone, everyone, should do.  However, I would not have any interest in visiting him (or anyone) for any length of time in a camper/motor home.  It’s just not my thing.  I told him I was a home body, just talking in general, that I would always want to have a home base.  (To be clear, I could stay on a boat for 2 weeks, a nice, good sized boat, but then that’s my thing.  Not camping.)  So, I was happy for him, I knew I would never want to be a part of that and he didn’t seem to be asking me, until he started with the visiting thing, and the needing a bigger camper/motor home in case you want to see me thing.

So, for all these reasons, I decided to just block him.  Then I wouldn’t get texts I felt compelled to answer, and if he just stopped hearing from me, hopefully he would move on, and let go.  It felt like a clean, necessary break to me.

For some reason, even though I have blocked all  his numbers, and everyone on his group text list, I still get his group texts.  I cannot stop them.

So a week after I just stopped the communication, I got a picture of his new, much larger, camper/motor home. This is about a week after he said the thing about needing one in case I came to visit him.  I immediately thought, “Damn, I hope he didn’t buy that thinking I would come to see him.”  But I thought, that would be crazy…no one would do that, would they?  No…I hope not.

Today, I got a group text with pictures of a house, and the scenery around it, in Santa Fe.  With the message “going to make an offer on this house tomorrow.”  WHAAAAA?  This is a guy who not more than 3 weeks ago insisted he didn’t want to own a home, wanted to continue to roam the countryside, seeing new sites, visiting new place, meeting new people, and was quite content to be “homeless.”  A couple weeks later he’s buying a house.  And he JUST got to Santa Fe about 3 days ago.

Again, I thought…I hope this has nothing to do with me.

I’m probably just paranoid.  He has not tried to reach me that I know of.  Of course, being blocked, I don’t get any texts, which was our main way of communication.  But there are no blocked call voice mails, and no emails.  It’s just that he was the kind of guy who got into me so much that all my interests became his.  Except the camping thing, which he and his son planned long before he knew me.  But the music I loved became what he listened to, my spiritual journey started to become his.  If I was going to Sam’s club he wanted to come with me.  Or anywhere.  ….idk.  That was something I didn’t really like.  At first, I found his attention flattering.  Then…it became too much.  We didn’t go out that long, only a few weeks, maybe a month.  He pushed it along way too fast.  When we first met I was broken, and bruised by S and the prison whore, it felt good to have someone who adored me, and made me his world.  But I realized that was totally selfish, and that I just didn’t feel the same, and found it easy to tell him I was going to try again with S.  That was 6 months ago.  Then I saw him a little bit before he left, when S and I were constantly breaking up. I just fear that A hasn’t really let go of some story he made up.

Anyway, when I got the text, I deleted it, as I do all his texts.  I hope he decided to buy a home because he wanted one, not because he suddenly thought I might come visit him if he had a home.  It just was so sudden, as was his purchase of a much bigger camper/motor home.  Didn’t seem particularly thought out…planned out…and was the opposite of his intention just weeks ago.

I sure wish I’d stop getting his group texts.  I’m looking forward to the day when I’ve shed past entanglements and made room for something new to come in the door.

You Are Enough


Thinking about connection this morning.  Brene Brown, in her TED talk on vulnerability says that after  you’ve been a social worker for 10 years, you know that the reason we are here is for connection.  It’s the basic premise of her work.  She goes on to say how her research (6 years of it) proves how so many negative emotions are outgrowths of the fear that something about us, or something we have done, will cause us to be not worthy of love and connection.

I think it starts with our family of origin.  I was blessed to be born into a family who never ever made me doubt for a minute or even a second, whether I was worthy of love and connection.  I took it for granted, that all children got this from their parents. It took a long marriage to someone whose parents were incapable of unconditional love, to understand the ramifications of that one seemingly small, but actually enormous and boundless thing, having or not having unconditional love. The shame that my ex experienced crept into every corner and facet of his life.  I truly believe that because he felt so unworthy of love and connection, that he believed that anyone who professed to love  him, like myself or our son, either wanted something from him or was just stupid.  And in the end, this is how he lived.  He treated me like I was stupid and sought to protect himself from me by excluding me from all things financial.  He was sure one day i would leave him….

A self fulfilling prophecy, I would say.  Of course I would eventually realize I was not part of any equation involving the two of us.  That apparently I was there to serve him, yet only to reap the benefits which he chose to give me,  which in the end were none, because I was, in his fearful mind, stupid and/or (alternatingly) out to take him.

Although, it was the abuse of my son that really moved me to get out of the marriage.  I realized at some point that if I didn’t get out, and offer my son a clear choice of love vs. fear, that I would lose him forever, and quite possibly condemn him to a very unhappy life.  I realized it when he was 9.  It took me until he was 14 to actually put together an exit plan.

All of that pain, though, every bit of it originated in my ex’s belief that since his parents could not unconditionally love him (Love for them had to be earned, and could quickly be taken away.  They thought it was motivation.) that he simply was not worthy of it.  When I realized this, my anger at him turned to sorrow for him.  I can’t imagine living a whole life, not ever believing you were worthy of love and connection.  Is there a more painful way to live?

Some people can  figure it out.  Some people can find a pathway to a creator that unconditionally loves us, or realize that we are all connected.  That there is a vast ocean of love, that we can all dip into.  Some people manage to figure out that the lessons they were taught were just wrong, and that the people that taught them  were flawed people doing the best they knew how.

Since I have been out of the marriage, I tried once or twice, when my ex opened the door, to show him a different way to see the world, and a way to rebuild a relationship with our son.  He has so far been unable to hear it, or see it.  I think some progress may have been made, that maybe he no longer believes me to be the cause of all his problems, although I don’t know this for a fact, and I do know that he doesn’t have any good answers to why he is in the dire straits he is in.

I have a friend, who had a similar childhood, who has tried to reconnect with a sibling now that their parents have both passed.  I wish this person much luck with this endeavor.  I hope it happens.  I also am real, and know it’s chances are slim. And my job, if I have one at all, is to make sure this person knows, no matter what the outcome that they are worthy of love and belonging.  That they are enough.  Just because they are, because they exist, and for no other reason.

You are enough.

My Personal Freedom Day.

Today is my Freedom Day. The 10th of March. Eight years ago today, I left an abusive 30 year marriage. I moved out with 3 pieces of furniture, enough kitchen stuff that I could cook, and my clothes.

I spent the night in my new home, a rented condo. And slept the first peaceful sleep I’d had in years. It had taken me 5 years of planning, scheming, hiding money, breaking emotional ties. Clawing my way to the surface. I had to somehow get a car in my name, so he wouldn’t call the police saying I’d stolen his car. I had to get a job, on my own, without his blessing, while I worked with him, for him, in our business. I had to hide money which was always in short supply. I had to somehow hire an attorney. Thank God for credit cards.

I had to leave my 14 year old son, and somehow find a way to help him see he had a different choice. He did….18 months later he left his father’s to go to school, came home to my house and never looked back.

So, 8 years ago today, it all came together and I started my new life. It took me 4 years to finish it off, it was epic, all the way to our state Supreme Court as he appealed the lower court decision, and tried to make me accept less than 10% of the modest estate we’d built.

But life now is so much better than I ever dreamed it could be. I am proof, that thoughts become things, that once you know what you want, the universe conspires to make it happen.  I live in a lovely home, that is MINE,I have a good job, my son is doing extraordinarily well, I have the most wonderful group of friends, and I have a new man in my life who is teaching me what it feels like to be really cared for.

You gotta believe. You can do it. And remember, love never hurts. If it hurts, it isn’t love. So, love yourself enough to find a way to leave, if you’re living in an abusive situation. It’s hard….but nothings harder than staying.