I was a departure from your lifestyle.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Day 4 - Something you have to forgive someone for - 30 days of truth
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Day 3 - Something you have to forgive yourself for - 30 days of truth
In order to write about something I have to forgive myself for, I have to first admit what it was that I did wrong. That isn't easy for me, because I want you all to think that I'm perfect. Isn't that the goal? To have people think as highly of you as possible?
This is part of the 30 Days of Truth series. You can find the entire list here.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Keeping Up
I've been able to keep up with Marty and know that she had a baby. Her ex-husband realized that everything was for the best when he heard about it.
I can't quote that. It's a second hand conversation that a former friend had with a current friend of mine, and I don't even remember exactly what she told me. But that line keeps playing through my head in one form or another.
This person, a person who violently ejected himself from my life, is able to keep up with me. I don't know how. I don't know why. I do wish that he wouldn't. I do wish that he cared as little about me and what is going on in my life as I do about him and what is going on in his life. When you rip apart a relationship the way he did, you move on.
At least I do.
He is friends with my ex. Hence the information that the birth of my child gave my ex some sort of cosmic peace about our divorce. I'm so thrilled. Good for him.
This is, of course, the same man who announced to me after years of dicking around with no career but plenty of school loans - and I can quote this one, because I will never forget it - "Someone should just give me a job."
His lack of follow through, his inability to live up to promises made, his stagnant lifestyle, all of these things were things he could control. Things he could have changed. Things he could have grown out of. Instead, he is choosing to find peace in our divorce because he is sterile and now I have a child.
Whatever helps him sleep at night.
However, I am in no mood to sit back and just let him be the victim anymore. He got a bum lot in life, not being able to have kids. I signed on for that bum lot with eyes open. We agreed that we wanted a family. Adoption is hard and costly and impossible when one of you quits their job and "goes back to school" right when you finish the application.
His choices, made long before I left him, should give him peace about the divorce. Not having to live with me anymore, as I had become a very unhappy, very mean person, should give him peace about the divorce. Being given a "get out of jail free" card to officially renig on every promise he made and couldn't keep should give him peace.
I will never understand why people wallow in the past the way they do. I guess I do it too in some ways. I mourn friendships that have played out. I get disappointed when people I trusted let me down.
But I don't seek out the people who have hurt me. I don't Google them. I don't continue following their lives. I have a switch that I can turn, and I simply don't care anymore. I'm not sure that's a good thing. It's most certainly a survival tactic. For someone whose feelings get hurt as easily as mine do, it's a must. Mend the wound and prevent it from being reopened.
Besides, how smart is it to continue to immerse yourself in the life of someone who you know doesn't care about you? It's not smart at all. It's stupid to continue to watch from the sidelines, whether you are watching to see them fail, watching wistfully, or watching out of some sick curiosity. It's only hurting yourself.
Someone, more than one person actually, sent me the link to my ex-husband's blog. It's easy to find if you know the name of the band we had back in Mississippi. I don't go there though. It's his space, and I made a very clear legal decision that I don't wish to share space with him anymore. In theory, I wish him well and hope he's alright. In reality, I barely remember him.
And the people who used to be friends? Those wounds have lost their scabs and earned their scars. I don't wonder about them. I don't ask about them. It's done. I consider myself cleansed of some nasty toxic relationships.
Yet they still "keep up." Amazing. I am so not that interesting. Really.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
The coda and cadence
This blog is where I became who I am.
My marriage began during this blog.
My first baby lives only in these pages now.
I became a mother here in these words. First a stepmother. Then the mother of a baby that would never be held. Then Little Bird's mother.
It's where I have made too many friends to link to, but you know who you all are.
My words will stay here. They won't be taken down. But they won't be added to either.
This will be my last post.
I have been of the belief that it was perfectly fine to write about personal things here. To talk openly about my son and my husband. To give whoever wanted it a glimpse into our lives. Internet privacy wasn't a huge concern for me. I knew that whatever I posted was fair game and that if I didn't want something known, that I shouldn't put it on the internet.
However.
I had only considered the consequences of nasty crazy strangers who don't know my last name, where I live, or how to find me.
I never considered the consequences of people that know who we are and where we live.
By posting about going to the Liam Finn concert, I opened the door to let someone show up to that event and harass us. I also gave them a completely open window of time when they knew that my son would be home without me. Thank God they chose to come to the club and not our home.
That was the most irresponsible thing I have ever done in my entire life.
I will not repeat that mistake.
And to make sure, I will not be using this space any longer.
Maybe there will be another space someday. Something private with passwords. Something that the people I have grown to love here can still share with me.
For now though, I need to put the keyboard down. Stop feeding them. Stop giving them access into our lives. Stop pretending that they are inconsequential in our lives. We don't know that, and because of that unknown, the safest thing for me to do it to stop.
I feel like I have just ripped my fingers off and thrown them on the ground. My heart feels like I punched myself in the chest a dozen times. My gut is turning and begging me not to be bullied. Not to give in.
But it's not about that.
It's not a situation of "being beaten" or "giving in."
It's a situation of I love my son and my husband more than the air that I breathe and the life that I have.
And I should have been protecting them all along from someone who wishes them nothing but harm and ill will.
I am so very sorry, Darling.
You all know how to find me. Email will remain the same. At least for awhile. I hope you will stay in touch, and let me know if you would like to be informed of a new safe space in the future.
V7 and I.
We're done.
Labels: Blogging Innards, Divorce, Grief, Guy and Me, Things I Should Keep to Myself
Posted by
Marty, a.k.a. canape
Sunday, July 06, 2008
You must have the wrong number
Usually when our phone rings, I check the caller ID before answering it. If it is Wife #1, I don't answer. Not because she has demanded this of me, but because I don't have anything to say to her, and I know she's not calling to talk to me. Plus, getting screamed at isn't high on my list of things to do.
Today though, she and Kevin were going around about something or another when she started saying ugly things about me to him. When that happens, he simply hangs up the phone. Then she calls back. And calls back. And calls back.
To those of you who have tried talking to me on our home phone: That is the purpose of our incredibly crappy voip service. Because we used to have to track how many times she would call after being asked to stop. Well, that, and for recording her voice messages. They are real treats, let me tell you.
Usually I don't care what's going on with the phone and those two. Kevin will take as much as he wants and then cut it off. He's a big boy and can handle himself.
What I do care about is the phone ringing time and time again while our baby is trying to take a nap.
So I answered it. I told her politely that the baby was sleeping and that she needed to quit calling at this time.
I doubt that she heard it though. I doubt that she heard anything for the yelling she was doing, telling me that she would like to speak to her husband.
The last time I answered the phone and she screamed at me that she would like to speak to her husband, I was snarky and told her she had the wrong number. Because the only man in at this house was my husband.
Today, I simply hung up after telling her that the baby was asleep.
Snarky used to be amusing. People who are so easily riled are easy targets. I learned that growing up with a big brother who loved to tease and was really good at it. The less reaction I gave, the less fun he had. Wish I had learned that before he convinced me of the toilet monster's existence.
Now, it's just sad. Not in a pity sort of way, because I wouldn't waste good pity on such a subject.
Or perhaps she did hear me. Because she hasn't called back.
I'm thinking that it has little to do with my request though, and far more to do with the simple fact that I answered the phone. In my own home. Heaven forbid that I ever do that again.
For right now, I'm just enjoying the silence and the fact that Bird is still snoozing away undisturbed.
Friday, May 02, 2008
I'm friends with her ex
Bird and I went downtown yesterday. We went to close a safety deposit box, to vote early, and to go up to the floor where my old office is and visit people. He was a big hit, of course, and I got to eat lunch with a friend who I see far too infrequently.
My friend and her husband have been talking about selling their house and moving closer into the city. They have been talking about this for years, actually. I asked her how the house hunt was going and she had a story to tell me.
They had been to an open house in the neighborhood of a couple who my ex and I went to church with. Turns out, Ann was at the open house with her two boys and recognized my friend. At first, they couldn't place where they knew each other from, but finally figured out that it was through parties at my old house when I was married previously.
My friend mentioned to Ann that I had just had a little boy.
At this point, it would be interesting to note that when I was married to my ex, I spent more time with Ann and her husband than my ex. I was the one that Ann called franticly one night needing to meet and cry out her pregnancy hormones over her husband to someone. I was the one who taught Sunday School with Ann. I was the one they could count on to be there for them. My ex, as always, was the comic relief.
So, my friend mentioned to Ann that I had just had a little boy. She replies to this fact that she didn't know that, but that they were friends with my ex. That was sort of a conversation ender.
Ann was the one I called when the first adoption possibility fell through. It was her kitchen table that I sat at and wept. She was the one I turned to when I first split with my ex.
I knew that she and her husband had chosen him over me a long time ago. After I met her and told her the news, I didn't hear from her again for awhile. My phone calls weren't returned, and I honestly was too busy and too stressed out to think about why.
When we finally got together several months later, I learned the answer. She and her husband had become my ex's new caretakers. Over dinner, she told me that I didn't need to worry about him. They had helped him get his life together and he had a solid plan to move forward.
I sat across from her with food, unchewed, clogging my mouth. Which is better than the alternative spewing that could have easily occurred.
After I chewed and swallowed, I put my fork down, placed my napkin on the table, and I said,
"Congratulations. You have accomplished something with him that I tried for 10 years to do. Why don't you get back to me in a year and let me know how far he's progressed on your little plan."
Then I asked for the check. While we waited, I told her that I was with someone and really happy. She wanted to know if I still wanted to have kids. I told her that I most certainly did. Then she said that she really wanted to see me pregnant because she just knew I would hate it like she did.
Time and time again, I look back on the choices I made for friends before I met Guy.
All I can say is that my self-esteem must have sucked complete donkey balls.
I mean really? Who says those kinds of things to someone who has been to the line for you? Someone who called you a friend?
There were casualties of friendships after my divorce. I'm not sorry about it, because they were friendships that obviously needed to end anyway. The ones that thrived on the part of me who never thought I deserved to be loved.
But some days, sometimes, it just stings when I hear that someone like Ann couldn't even be happy for me and my child. I thought that we had been friends. I trusted her enough to share the down and dirty part of adoption with her, and now that I finally am a mother?
She's friends with my ex.
Congratulations, Ann. It doesn't take a lot of effort to be friends with someone who so easily makes you feel better about yourself. That's the comic part.
You like him out of part pity, part relief that he isn't your husband. I know this, and I forgive you because it's sad that you need that in your life. I hope that one day you are happy enough to not need that crutch anymore.
In the meantime, I guess I can be glad that she has made me even more thankful for the couple of friends who stood by me and the new friends I have made.
Or I could quit trying to find a damn silver lining for everything and just allow myself to be sad about it for a little while. That's probably not a bad idea.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Adding to the staticstics with me
I am such a dork. The days when Christopher doesn't nap, I long for a respite. I want for him to go down so badly, just so I can cook something or type with two hands for a moment.
Now? He's been asleep for almost 2 1/2 hours, and I desperately want him to wake up. I miss him.
An old friend came over for dinner tonight. She and her husband are splitting. They have two little girls - twins who are almost five. It is not easy for her now, putting it mildly.
We met because my ex-husband and I used to play in a band with her soon to be ex. Our then husbands were cut from the same cloth really, except I always thought hers had more drive. Hell, a broken down tractor had more drive than my ex. The four of us used to do things together, but had drifted apart through the many changes in our lives.
Our dinner conversation was interesting. Her soon to be ex-husband has a girlfriend. My friend and I talked some about how she deals with the fact that this woman will be in her girls' lives. Coming at it from a stepmom's perspective, I think she will handle it very well.
No two situations are ever completely alike though, and I don't know this girlfriend. What I do know is that if she is smart, she will never try to fill the role of mother for these girls. Daddy may have a new wife, but the kids don't need a new mother. It doesn't work like that. My friend is confident enough that she isn't threatened, and she wants for her girls to be happy and like this woman no matter how she feels about her. I'm really proud of her.
Looking back on our marriages, we both felt like we were holding everything together on our own. I didn't have children, so it was easier to let go when I finally realized that was an option. For my friend, she wanted her family to stay together, and I understand that. What I saw on her face tonight though, was the same happy-sad relief I remember, when she talked about how much easier it was on her own. I understood that.
She was there for me so many times when I was desperately trying to have a family with my first husband. She was so supportive.
I really hope that I can now return the favor. She deserves to be happy. Facing this new life, she especially deserves to be happy.
And maybe I'll miss her ex from time to time because we used to be friends. But I remember how it felt when all of my friends except one dumped me for my ex. The martyr. The fun one. The one who needed more help. Her ex will be just fine without me as a friend.
I'll be standing by C and reminding her of how strong she is and cheering her onto the happiness that she deserves.