Over 20 years ago, I began dating my ex-husband on St. Patrick’s Day. And up until 2015, we celebrated that anniversary every single year. We celebrated in March of 2015 and then the following month of that same year I learned he had been having a secret affair with a woman he worked with. That affair had lasted for close to 3 years, at the time I found out about it. From her husband. My ex and this woman are still together and engaged. I’m not upset or angry about anything anymore, it is just what happened. I do want to say though that I find it particularly odd that he is marrying her this year, on St. Patrick’s Day weekend. He has to remember our history but I wonder if she has any clue and how she would feel about it if she did know? Knowing the things she did and said about me, part of me thinks she does know and it’s her way of believing she is taking something else she believes was mine and making it hers. But that doesn’t bother me either because I know what she is getting and I don’t want it. Not even a little tiny piece of it do I want. So happy nuptials to them! Second for her, third for him. Once they marry they’ll have had 5 weddings between the two of them so it should be perfect- that’s what practice makes, right? 😉
A family member said some very hurtful things to me a few months ago. We didn’t talk for about a month. Later, around Thanksgiving time this person wanted to talk, but not about our argument, they wanted to just talk and act like nothing happened. When I said I wasn’t ok with that, based on how our last conversation had gone, and tried to talk about the argument, get them to explain why they said the hurtful things, this person said I said hurtful things too. I asked about what things I said. They told me they didn’t have the energy to talk about it. And that was that, an abrupt end to them messaging me.
This is how emotional abusers operate. They throw out statements like “yeah, well you did this too and you did that” and when asked to back it up or give examples, so a chance is given to explain or apologize, they shut you down. Why? Because there are either no examples to give or they don’t want to go down the path of accountability. They don’t want to hear that they hurt you. They don’t want to hear that their behavior was cruel and unkind. In my situation it is even more of a head-scratcher because this family member tells everyone how life is too short to be angry and they are spiritual now and there are energies and what you put out is what you attract. And to be kind. To be genuine. To be happy. Just “Be.” This person doesn’t tell anyone about the shit-storm of wrongs they have committed against family and friends. They now hide behind doing charitable work and putting out books and going on tours, being a motivational speaker. Fuck as many people as you want but claim spirituality and that justifies it all. It’s different. It’s love and openness and being clairvoyant. That’s how to live your life, didn’t you know this?
Then this person sends me the quote pictured, just yesterday. Another example of emotional abuse. How can I possible respond to this quote? I’m not angry. I’m hurt. If I say anything, explain anything, they are the bigger person because they’re going into 2019 forgiving me? Life is too short to be negative? I did reply. I said I wasn’t angry with anyone and wished them a happy new year. They wished me the best year yet! Oh how awesome is this person?! How big of them. Best part for them is they don’t have to talk about the hurtful things said to me a few months ago! They get to tell the story about they reached out to me, because spiritual people forgive! So inspiring! This person gets to dismiss my feelings because that’s what their love is all about! They rock!
I’m not angry, I’m hurt. And if this person needs to do this to feel like the bigger and better person, (I am the most negative person they have ever met and I make them sick- their words) they can have this one. I’m not angry. I’m just done. It doesn’t matter if a person is your family, if they’re toxic and continue to make you feel bad about yourself, you need to find ways to minimize contact. I am doing that. And while I’m sad, deeply sad, I have accepted this. I’ll blog to get it out of my system and then I’ll move along. Life IS too short.
The three great former loves in my life all did not turn out to be the men I thought they were. What does that say about me and my clouded vision of love and who they appeared to be? A crook, a narcissist and a man who can’t love and uses women until he admits he can’t fake it anymore. What they left behind is a woman who is now single but gaining strength daily. That’s not to say I don’t still get sad and I’m not lonely. It just means I don’t need a man to define me. And I’ll never again settle. I can only realize these things if I face my past and try to understand what led me to become involved with these men in the first place. I make no apologies for talking about it. Here, in anonymity, it’s safER. I’ve made the mistake of telling a handful of people about my blog and with that comes the associated risk of them telling others it’s me. Is it really a mistake though? One recent person did share my anonymous post, exposing my identity, as far as I can tell. But I really don’t care because if telling a criminal I know about his past made him not want to text me anymore, what did I really lose? I (we actually ) decided we would not date and had not communicated in a few weeks and then out of the blue he messaged me wanting a truce. Somewhere in between that message and when I finally did reply, (maybe 12 hours later?) I believe this person I shared my blog with this guy which talked about this criminal and she told him. So thanks for that A, it saved me explaining to him that I knew he had a record, saved me from having to listen to his excuses of why what he did wasn’t as bad as his criminal friends/associates and they’re in prison, and that he wasn’t in federal prison so there’s that. Saved me from doubting myself. Saved me from explaining how what he did affected numerous people, his ex wife and child included. And that exposing only the parts he deems necessary to share, it is still deceit. So thanks, A. You can tell him that.
I made it through another Thanksgiving holiday and am preparing to fully enter this holiday season with all the strength and positivity I can muster.
It’s a challenge when you fight depression every day and have no place to call “safe.” Home life is stressful with my mother. Her health isn’t great. Her words are sharp and cruel and it is a daily struggle to put on my shield of deflection from her viciousness, and be able to shield my kids from it as well. One minute she says the most awful things and the next is saying how much she loves her grandkids and would do anything for them. Until they just…..live. And make their own choices. And express themselves. Then she tells us we are disgusting and if we continue to be who we are, we have to get out. We hear her on the phone with her family and she counsels them, telling the wonderful things like “you can’t threaten people and impose your will on others.” Or “don’t let differences keep you from having a relationship with your family.” I have no words. And I don’t recognize this pillar of strength and wisdom who sits before me doling out sage advice. She is my ex. In another body. She cares more about what strangers and distant family think than the people she lives with. Perpetuates the “do as I say and not as I do” movement.
But I get up every day and try to suck it up. Be strong and set a good example for my kids. I’m learning how to set boundaries and those aren’t received well by some people in my life. That adds to my depression because while I know it is necessary and healthy in the long run, the sting of the people who resist my boundaries is sharp.
My sister told me several weeks ago I am the most negative person she has ever met and that I make her sick. This was during a phone call where I asked if she was willing to have a conference call with my brother, my mother and me, because our mother wanted to discuss her estate planning. The conference call was my mother’s request. I was trying to set it up and make it happen for my mother. My brother agreed. My sister accused me of planting seeds in my mother’s head. Of wanting all my mother’s things after she dies. The more I tried to explain the more angry my sister became until we were yelling at each other and then those cruel words were said. I asked her if she was drinking because it has been my experience with her that when she drinks, she becomes irrational and mean. I am negative because I’m facing the reality that our mother is aging and should make these decisions now while she still has the mental capacity to do so because I don’t want to have to make those choices? I am negative because I vent when bad things happen to me? I am negative because I choose to stay in a house with my mom, who isn’t kind, but that’s my choice? It is my choice. But I don’t stay because I’m a freeloader. I don’t stay because I’m a glutton for mistreatment. I stay because I’m trying to help my children. And I’m here because cruel or not, my mother is getting older and her health is deteriorating and she needs help. I realize if I left, she would be alone and that she has isolated herself by behaving in ways that are unspeakable at times so people don’t want to be around her. But I am me. And I am not the most negative person ever. I have compassion and a strong desire to do what’s right. It’s easy for someone who lives far away to tell me what to do because they don’t see it or experience it firsthand. Yet when I share what’s happening, that makes me negative? No. I don’t believe that. The part where my sister said “you make me sick,” is what hurt the most. And I do worry about how negative I must sound but I vent about the negative things as a release. I need to get them out of my mouth and out of my body so I don’t cling to them and let them hurt me. Shouldn’t I be able to do that with my siblings, who know what our mother is like? Who know how bad my divorce was? Who know how hard it was for me to get a job and now have the ugly things happening at that job? I thought that was what unconditional love and support was built upon? Giving a person a safe place to vent and to be compassionate. My sister reached out a few days ago and when I expressed anxiety over speaking with her due to what happened in our last conversation, she said she didn’t have animosity towards anyone. I told her I don’t either, I’m just hurt by her words. And I told her that. Her reply was that she was hurt by words too. I asked what words hurt her. I want to know so I can reflect and apologize or further explain. Her reply to my question was that she didn’t have the energy to get into it. So very much like my mother, there is this method they follow: do and say hurtful things. Don’t speak for weeks. Then act like nothing ever happened. I don’t operate that way. We still have not discussed anything. That’s not animosity. That’s self preservation. That’s me setting boundaries. You don’t get to hurt me and then ignore me and then act like all is fine and I’m the one with the problem. Or animosity. And you’re the bigger better person because you tried to reach out to me? No. I deserve to enforce my own boundaries. And the ironic part? My sister told her daughters I hate her. Which I can assure you I don’t. But what I find remarkable is that she didn’t tell them what she said to me, what we fought about. She left out every detail that included her anger and unkind words to me yet she stressed and stretched anything I did or said that could be used as a reason to make herself the victim. I was nearly speechless when I heard this. I made no effort to reach out to my sister because I knew it would not be resolved and I was and am protecting myself. People are afraid of her. I am one of those people, but I have boundaries now.
My kids are going to be traveling to see their father right after Christmas and staying until after the New Year. It will be my first holiday being all alone since my separation and divorce. I’m sad but am trying to see some positives here. I can focus on just me and heal my mind. The thoughts of betrayal creep in. I know they are not really betraying me. He is their father and they want him in their lives. But I struggle with hearing how sad they are that he moved so far away and that they are finally at a good place with him. I want to scream sometimes. How can they forget that he was he person who put us all here? The person who chose to move away was him. And it’s easy to be at a good place with a parent when that parent doesn’t have to parent you. Doesn’t have to deal with the daily stresses and teenage behaviors. Doesn’t have to do the shopping and cooking and cleaning and running kids all around? Yeah. They’re at a good place. Well yay them! So being alone for the New Year night not be so bad. I can work on getting to a good place, with myself.
Work is still not a “safe” place for me either. The owner is a tool. A fake. And a giant child who doesn’t like being told when he has done something wrong. Instead of an apology, he turns every situation around and places the blame that belongs to him onto someone else. He has actually said that there is zero trust between him and I. He isn’t wrong. But then he said it is UP TO ME to make any and all efforts to attempt to rebuild the trust between us. And that I am never to share anything personal with him ever again because in doing so, I opened the door for him to make an inappropriate comment about my breasts to him. He one, doesn’t have to worry about me sharing anything with him ever again and two, I hope he holds his breath waiting for ME to work on rebuilding trust between the two of us. Regardless, I keep to myself and work like a champ. I get my work done plus the work of others. I help and I am dedicated to making the place a success. I’m still looking for another job elsewhere but the pickins are slim. I’ll keep at my search because I need to find a safe place. Just one place where I can be myself.
This pattern I see, of others not wanting to accept the blame for their actions that cause hurt or where they were wrong? Of ignoring the situation for long periods of time and then suddenly reappearing as if nothing happened? Of worrying about how they appear in the public eye but not even closely matching that view in private? I wonder what role I have in this pattern? My first step in understanding this is recognizing these are the people I see. I see them. I recognize the behaviors. And I am setting boundaries. Like it or not, they can not and I will not let them in any more. I don’t care if they are family or long-time friends, work associates or bosses. You may not come in. I think that is my role. I never set boundaries before. Anywhere in my life. A long time married male friend says something sexually inappropriate to me? I try to laugh it off so I don’t embarrass them. A co-worker says the same? My reaction is the same. Family or friends hurt me? I never say much. So they keep doing it. Kids share info about their father that I don’t want to hear and that hurts me? I let them talk because I want to support them. But who supports me? This is why I HAVE to set boundaries.
This blog post is a bit all over the place, so for anyone reading it, sorry about that. I just needed to get this out of my head and down where I can see it. That always helps me feel better.
So happy holidays. I am going to do my best to be bright and merry. It’s going to be exhausting and draining but I don’t want to let this depression get the best of me and I’m hoping my newly set boundaries will help with that.
There are so many details surrounding the time period leading up to and then during and after the discovery of my ex-husband’s final affair that I try to not think about. I try hard and I’ve actually made it to a point where I can get through days without thinking about it. That’s progress! I’m not thrilled with where I am in my life right now, the many changes and stresses that being a single mom has caused. My kids are wonderful, so it’s not that. It’s the financial burden and the changing everything we have known, for them for their whole lives and for me, for the past 20+ years. Change can be good, but for me it’s not, not while I’m undergoing the changes. I can’t see or feel what’s good about it. The good becomes apparent to me well after the fact. I am better off ending a marriage that was filled with deceit. I am better off being alone and lonely versus trapped in a marriage where I wasn’t alone, but I was lonely. I am better off being financially strapped rather than depending on a husband who abused me financially. (When I moved out, before I had secured a job, I was shopping for groceries with my kids and learned he shut down my credit card and transferred all our money, except for 80 cents, into a new private account, forcing me to need and be on government assistance. And forever burning into my mind and the minds of my kids, that memory of standing at the checkout with my kids and having to leave a cart full of food behind, embarrassed and humiliated). I am better off being insecure and anxious all the time, but learning to find my way out of that and building boundaries and seeing my self worth, rather than staying with a husband who berated, belittled and emotionally abused me in subtle ways that were not apparent at first. Narcissists do this. They break you down, slowly and steadily. You don’t realize what is happening at first because you were a good person before you met them, you maybe just had a few insecurities. Narcissists are skilled at honing in, like a laser beam, on those insecurities, and they lock onto the bullseye and use those insecurities to their advantage. By the time you see what they are doing, what they have done, the damage feels irreparable. What you’re left with, quite often, is the shell of the person you used to be. More insecure, more anxious, and afraid. You don’t feel seen or heard. You feel invisible and quite frankly, if you’re like me, you long for the days where you can fly under the radar because being invisible means being left alone. Why do I want to be left alone? Because while not every person who is rude or unkind or dishonest is a narcissist, the world is filled with people who see your insecurities and latch on to them. Who use you. Who are dishonest to you, to their spouses, to their bosses, even to their friends. And your distrust grows and grows and grows and the whole time it’s growing you have an internal dialog where you blame yourself and think you’re just paranoid. These narcissists stripped away your confidence and ability to make even the smallest decisions.
So I write all of this and then look back at the reason I started this blog entry. The memories that surround the abuse, the affair and the aftermath of my divorce from a narcissist…..
I have children with him. And every time they see him or talk to him, the memories come flooding back. This happens because they are damaged by what he did too. I can’t ask them to not share with me their interactions with their father. I can’t because they need a safe place. I’m that safe place. I sit here and I hear what they’re saying, because their father doesn’t listen. His lover doesn’t listen. I can’t afford to turn it off and feign listening. So I truly listen. They deserve that And in doing so, all those memories come flooding back to me. It’s hard, often, to not get upset or frustrated with my kids when they share how mad they are at this other woman but not their father. He was 1/2 the reason this final affair happened. I understand he is their father and they want him in their lives but it takes a toll on me. Pushing those memories away so I am not turned into a cold heartless monster, that much effort is exhausting. One of my kids told me she argued with the other woman over where I am in my life and that this other woman is to blame. I didn’t feel good about that. I didn’t because my kid doesn’t seem to have that same anger towards her father. I say I don’t want my kids to be angry with their father but maybe I really do? Maybe I want to feel like someone has my back? Like I have the same safe place I provide for so many people? But I say maybe because I don’t trust my emotions and thoughts most of the time. And saying I want them mad at their father seems cold and harsh. I don’t want to be cold and harsh. I just want to feel safe and be seen and heard. And I want to be mad and have someone tell me it’s ok to be mad and understand why I am mad, like I tell my kids. But I fear that I will hear, as I have countless times before, that I control my own happiness and I need to move on. I am trying and as I said way above, I have many days in a row where I feel good because I can look back and say I didn’t think about these as memories, until….bam! The kids bring it all back to me after visiting with their father. I’m out of that marriage, but I still feel trapped.
I apologize in advance for how choppy and all over the place this post is. I wrote it over the course of a few days, with many interruptions, and with my thoughts jumping from memory to memory, but I really just needed to get this out. I’ve thought about this topic over and over again for nearly three years now and felt it was time to just write it down and get it out there.
How does one even begin writing about this without sounding vain? Am I pretty? I must be because people tell me often that I am. Do I see that about myself? No. I see a not awful looking woman who isn’t too bad for having given birth to three children, will be turning 48 soon and who dislikes exercise, so doesn’t. I’m not heavy but I’m not toned or in great shape. I don’t have many grey hairs at all and I don’t color my hair. (I can’t control this.) I had highlights several months ago but they’re growing out and after my recent bad haircut, that sped up the ridding of what was left. I do not have many wrinkles. (I can’t control this.)
Why am I talking about this? Because you are treated differently when you are pretty. And a majority of the behaviors you receive are not kind, not respectful, and definitely not fair. The type of pretty I’m talking about is the type you can’t control. It’s not doing lots of make-up and spending time on hair. It’s not dressing up fancy all the time. Are you reading this and thinking I’m vain yet? I’m not. I’m just being honest. I’m sharing my experiences.
When you’re pretty and you have a cheating spouse: people might mean well but when they say “why would he cheat on you?! You’re beautiful and she is so ugly!” That does not make me feel better at all. It actually makes me feel much worse because it’s like being pretty is a punishment. Like they’re saying it is doubly bad to be cheated on when the other woman is ugly. I mean what’s wrong with ME that I’m so pretty and yet he cheated? Or worse, I feel it sends a sick message that if you’re unattractive and the other woman is beautiful, well, then, THAT makes more sense. Cheating is cheating. It’s messed up.
When you’re pretty, after the divorce: “Oh don’t worry! You won’t be single for long! You’re so pretty!!” Hello. Can we talk about my pain? Or that I might have trust issues? Or that being pretty MIGHT make my odds of men finding me high. It sure does. But let’s talk about the caliber of men I’ll meet. I either work with them and they are married or I’ve been friends with them since HS days and they are married. And these married men are disgusting because they are doing to their wives what my ex did to me by starting to try to have an affair or shamelessly flirting with me. And when I say nope not happening, and then their wives see that their husbands have messaged me? I’m the person they are mad at. They do not see or know that it was their husband who initiated communication. They do not see that I am the one who said “go away” or asked if being friends with me was known by their spouse. And if the answer was no, then I tell them to go away. I tell them the second I feel maybe something is off that I don’t want a friendship that’s secret because it doesn’t look or feel good. Oh. But I’m pretty so it must have been me. Because pretty girls are mean and ruthless and not smart and just generally can not be trusted. It’s always me who ends up getting the brunt of the anger. And because there’s much damage after being abused and cheated on for so long while I was married, and then being used and taken advantage of in the few relationships I’ve had since the marriage ended, I’m paranoid or afraid. I’m afraid I’m overreacting when a married man seems friendly with me. And if I say from the first “hello, how are you, what’s up?” that I’m not interested, then I look vain or full of myself. It’s a struggle to be damaged and told for countless years that you can’t trust your gut because you’re crazy. So you question everything. Even when in the end, your gut always proves to be right. And to those who think just because I’m pretty, I’ll have no problems finding a man? Ever think maybe the message to me should be that I’m pretty great and need time to heal and most importantly, a man shouldn’t define me any longer? And to these men: pretty people deserve respect too. Stop talking to them in ways that not only disrespect them, but also disrespect your wives!
When you’re pretty and you are employed: I was hired for a job and then asked by the owner of the company to come work at his private home office a few days a week. I refused. And I have been treated poorly ever since. I’m an office manager, receptionist, aide to the accounting department and an executive assistant to multiple people where I work. I was hired to be an executive assistant to two people, as well as be the receptionist and office manager. The owner needed more attention and assistance than I could offer since he was sharing my time with others so he hired an executive assistant who is just for him. She doesn’t answer phones ever. She doesn’t help other executives within the company. She is paid a considerable amount more than I am but she does a fraction of the work I do. And when I asked about that, I was told because I do not have a degree in videography and did not work outside the home for nearly 20 years, my value is far less than hers. Even though there is nothing in either job description, mine or hers, that lists videography as a required skill. How dare I bring this up? How dare I ask legitimate questions to a company who boasts about being an open and honest place to work where we are valued? Where good mojo is everywhere? (False.) And guess what? I’m still doing work for the owner. And I’m treated differently because I’m pretty. I’m kind and thoughtful to everyone where I work because that’s just who I am but people don’t trust me because I’ve been told I’m pretty so it’s weird and they thought I’d be rude or mean. They think my kindness isn’t genuine. The owner won’t allow me to take breaks with the others in the company because I have to answer the phones and am not allowed to temporarily put them on service during the 30 minute lunch breaks or two 15 minute breaks. So I go later when everyone else returns so I can find someone to cover the phones for me. This isolates me from them and further perpetuates their beliefs that I’m rude or mean. Unapproachable. But I’m pretty so I’ll be ok.
I have men in my life with whom I’ve been friends, well was, for anywhere from 1 to 30+ years. They are married. Sometimes they flirt and I ignore those comments because it isn’t appropriate and makes me feel uncomfortable. And they are married. Recently, one former friend who is male and married talked to me about his wife knowing we were friends because I told him about past experiences. He assured me his wife knew we were friends and that she knew he texted me often and that she was free to see what we talked about. Sharing family stories. Work stories. Jokes. And if he ever said anything to me that was slightly flirtatious, I ignored it all. Then I pulled back and didn’t message him back very often because it didn’t feel right. Last week he told me he forgot his phone at home and his wife saw that he was texting me and she was pissed. This is not the first time and I’m sick to death of it. I will no longer respond to any messages from any men who are married or dating. My ownership in this mess is that I’m naive but I know I would never go to that place because I was once the wife. I know what it feels like. I never should have given any attention to this man, let him become a friend because he seemingly had other intentions if he is hiding things from his wife. I didn’t know he was but I should have known better. Shame on me. Lesson learned. And I’m blocking every single male who is married and has ever said anything that makes me feel uncomfortable. Yes. These are the men I’ll have no trouble finding, because I’m pretty.
I’ve had females tell me they are jealous of the attention I get for being pretty. Let me tell you, there is nothing that feels good about having a male friend talk to you and have fun being friends and talking and laughing, like you would with a female friend, and then suddenly have them send you a picture of their penis or tell you your so hot or if I ever need “serviced” they can be my guy and no one has to know. Or to have your boss treat you like dog crap because he thinks your attractive but you won’t perform duties that he places on a list for you and these services include: grocery shopping, making doctor appointments for him, meal preparation, picking up laundry, paying bills, running his animals to the vet….and the list goes on. I set boundaries and I’m paying the price because now my job is unstable.
But I’m pretty, so I’ll be fine.
Having friends when you’re pretty: There is a long list of women who dislike me. Because I’m pretty. Who think I’m unintelligent or flighty. Because I’m pretty. Who assume I’ll steal their husbands because I’m pretty. Who don’t think I have any reason to be depressed or sad or insecure. All because I’m pretty.
I am pretty pissed off. I am pretty insulted. And I’m pretty sure I can’t change the way I look. My character is not perfect but I have respect for myself and for my friends and for fellow females. For anyone to think I would ever be the type of woman that had an affair with my husband? Piss off. And blame your husband, not me.
And lastly, I dated a man for over a year recently. I loved him. He had some medical issues that were severe at times. I cared deeply for him and helped him. When he ended the relationship, I was crushed. Devastated. And sad. So deeply saddened. And because I am pretty, I was told that he must be gay. Now I’ve run that comment over and over again in my head. Looking for the meaning. I think it was part joke and part mean spirited. This man was damaged. He used me. He was not kind when he ended things. He was selfish and cruel. But he was damaged. And to make light of the situation and think that just by telling me he was gay, that that would somehow mysteriously make me feel better? I didn’t. You see pretty or not, when a person’s feelings are hurt and they are sad, you treat them with love and respect. Being pretty shouldn’t change those rules. The pain feels the same. Maybe even worse, because from all I’ve written above, you can see it’s not like I have a ton of friends I can open up to about all of this, because when you’re pretty you’re supposed to have it all together. I’m pretty alone most of the time.
Think about that the next time you see someone you think is pretty and assume their life is grand. Most are not vain. Most are not deliriously happy. It doesn’t guarantee them a faithful relationship and job success. It does not guarantee them a tight and loyal circle of friends. It doesn’t mean they are respected and admired. And it’s pretty sad that we too often assume these things.
Thanks for reading. And I’m sorry if you think I’m vain. I’m truly not.
Even though my divorce was finalized April 6, 2017, his influence and nasty behaviors still influence me and my kids.
As suspected, his “hypothetical” move to Florida is becoming more of a “possibility,” as he tells the kids. They are crushed. I clean up the mess. He is mad that they are upset. I clean up the mess.
Found razor blades in my daughter’s room today. Her sixteenth birthday. I was setting up a surprise for when she comes home from school and I found them. Several. So the fear that she is cutting is there. I need to deal with this mess. Scary.
My oldest who still lives with this douchebag father? She is so depressed that she is ending her senior of year of high school by missing more and more classes and just not caring what happens. Her future plans for staying there and taking online college courses has changed because if he moves, she has no where to live. Another mess he is making. I clean up the mess.
He tells my kids he deserves to be happy. His lover’s kids are younger and she can’t move here. So, dickhead? Explain again how that is NOT you choosing her and her kids over your own? He had the nerve to tell my oldest when she said he needs to start being a parent that I need to do the same because I am the one who ran out and abondoned the family.
I do want him gone. I want him to disappear. Because even when he is here, he is absent. Absent emotionally. If he leaves, at least the kids and I can begin to build some sort of normal routine without him. While it tears at my heart that they want him to be a good father yet see he is incapable, the fact that they see it now might help save them a lifetime of begging for attention and love from someone who simply cannot give it. He is damaged and broken. My mother is this way. And I wish I had learned about her what they are learning about their father. If I had known sooner, it would have saved me much heartache. I never want my kids to choose a spouse like their father. He told me when I was leaving that I hurt him deeply by exclaiming I never wanted our daughters to marry a man even remotely close to what he was like. He stated he was a good man. He is deluded. And I stand by my wishes.
I clean up the messes.