Tag: break up

I am enough…

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After work recently I was laying on my bed ‘decompressing’ (aka watching Modern Family reruns by myself) when my cell phone rang.

“Hey mom…tell me some good things about myself.” It’s son #2. He’s in his room. Yes, we are those kinds of people. We call each other from our cell phones when we don’t want to get up. It’s much easier than screaming at the top of your lungs. Don’t judge.

“Why?” I ask curiously.  I mean I’m his mom. I have tons of great things to say about him. But I’m just wondering why he is asking.

“It’s for an autobiography project at school.  And I can’t think of any,” he explains.

I immediately begin to list  a litany of awesome things about him. But I can’t help but worry a little. He is a wonderful kid! Smart, funny, loving, loyal, compassionate… He gives the best hugs on the planet! There are a million positive things I can say about him. That anyone could say about him. And he can’t think of one nice thing to say about himself?  It makes me sad. Is this human nature? Or did he get this from me…

I struggle with the same problem. It seems hard to find something nice to say about myself. I appreciate all the compliments that people give. I know my children and family love me. But I have to admit I don’t always really believe it. In fact when I’m lying in bed alone at night trying to fall asleep…those compliments are nowhere to be found. Instead I am thinking about all the reasons that I am not ‘enough.’ I can come up with a ton of things I need to work on. Things that people have told me that they don’t like about me.  And there are two ways people can let you know that you aren’t up to their standards. They either have the balls to tell you directly or (probably more likely) they let you know through their actions. And one of the most hurtful actions is when someone you love, who you thought loved you too… quits on you. Rejection like that is pretty hard to overcome. And divorce feels like the ultimate failure.

In my adult life, I’m sad to say, the rejections I have faced have shaped my self-esteem more than anything else. And I know rationally that I shouldn’t let it. That I should focus on the positives. I should judge myself from my success as a mother, as a friend, as a person. But that is easier said than done. I get lots of hugs from my kids and positive affirmations from my friends, and even my coworkers treat me with respect. But deep down inside I can’t seem to change how I feel about myself. My self-talk is brutal…

And I know better. “No negative self-talk!” I tell my kids. I tell my friends and family the same thing. I hate hearing someone I care about not giving themselves the credit they deserve. I hate seeing the people I love judging themselves through someone else’s eyes. Through someone else’s expectations. But I’m the ultimate hypocrite when I say it. I continue to see myself through the eyes of my X. Through the eyes of all the people who have quit on me. Who rejected me. To them I wasn’t even important enough or valued enough to put in the effort to stay.

So in honor of my son I’m going to try something new. I’m not going to focus on what is wrong with me. I’m going to focus on what is right. I’m going to repeat it over and over and over again. Until I believe it. My BDF (best divorced friend) texted me recently and said ‘We are good people. We deserve love. We deserve appreciation. We deserve loyalty. We deserve better! We will be okay.’

And she’s right.  We deserve better. So screw the negative self-talk! Besides…I doubt if any of my X’s (or my BDF’s X’s) are lying awake at night worrying about what kind of people they are. I bet they are sleeping just fine. And I’ll be damned if we let them win again…

 

 

***I am smart. I am loved. I am kind. I am loyal. I am funny. I am caring. I am compassionate. I am capable of unconditional love. I am valuable. I have never quit on someone who loves me. And I have great shoes.👠 I am enough…

This picture is a lie…

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I received a text about something that I have been ‘putting off’ from one of my mom friends last night. Not really purposely putting off. There was no ‘screw that’ I’m not going to do it. I have had the best intentions! I promise!  I just haven’t been able to focus on it yet. I haven’t been able to pull my big girl panties up high enough I guess.  There has been a lot going on lately and I hate to say it…but I have been a bit overwhelmed. My oldest son is graduating from High School. It is an exciting and emotional time. I still remember my High School graduation like it was yesterday-so it seems a bit surprising that I am old enough to have a son graduating now. But all it takes is a quick look in the mirror to bring me back to the all too real reality. I’m definitely old enough.

“We need your pictures. The ones for the kids video,” she texted. We are having a graduation party next weekend with a group of his friends, and part of the plan is to have a slideshow with pictures of each of the graduates. I know my son will love it. All I have to do is come up with 20 photos for our part.

“When?” I text back with a sigh. Wondering how long I have…

“Yesterday.”

“Great!” I reply. Shit. Perfect. Of course.

So it should be easy right? Come on now. Get some pictures together! Call it done. But it’s not that easy. Not for me. Not even close. I have a hard time with pictures. I haven’t even unpacked them from their box since the divorce. They are hidden away deep in the back of a closet in the basement. I never had the nerve to tackle them since the move. Digging through boxes of photos, notes, and mementos of my married life has never sounded very appealing. In fact, it seems painful. And pain is something I tend to avoid.

Family pictures are a wonderful thing. They are snapshots of your life together. Usually the best times of your life! They show birthdays, holidays, milestones, and special occasions. When your child learns to ride their bike you grab your camera. It’s the first day of kindergarten, let’s take a picture! They tell a story of a beautiful, happy, and fun life!  But apparently that isn’t the life we were really living…

There are no pictures of the fights. There are no photos of the resentment and hurt feelings. Nowhere in those pictures does it show how much time my X spent away from home. There is no evidence of a house that wasn’t kept clean enough. No one grabbed a camera the night I found out about the affair, or the day that he left. Those things are only recorded in my memories. And those memories aren’t as easy to pack away as the box of pictures.

For me it’s hard to separate the pictures from my memories. Each picture brings with it a flood of emotions.  When I run across any old photos I tend to search them carefully. Trying to find clues for what was to come. I often have said that when my world came crashing down it felt like the life I had been building was a lie. The foundation was made of sand. A picture popped up recently on Facebook of our family several years ago. It was a nice picture. My X and I were smiling and standing in my sister’s kitchen. And my first thought was that in this picture he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he eventually will leave us for. This picture is a lie. And that hurts.

Thankfully for them I think my kids see it differently. They like the photos. They find comfort remembering their childhood. They like to reminisce about when we were all together. My daughter loves to hear stories about our Wedding, the day she was born and about what her brothers were like when they were small. It’s all part of her story! And her brothers feel the same way. I think it’s every child’s secret wish that their divorced parents will someday reunite…so they like looking at the good times. They don’t remember the struggles between the X and me. They were little kids!

So tonight I will pull up my big girl panties, wear my high heels and dig through those damn boxes. I won’t like it. I will hate it. And I may even cry.

But I love my Son. And he does look pretty cute in those pictures…

 

 

That’s just how I am…

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So I have a ‘pet peeve.’ Actually it’s a little more than a pet peeve. That makes it sound trivial. It’s something that totally irritates the shit out of me. And more seriously than that- it has caused me great pain in my life.

It’s that person that acts like a total bitch about something…and then say’s ‘that’s just how I am’ when you have finally had enough and you get up the nerve to mention it to them. Wait a minute here… What? Is that an excuse? An explanation? What do you mean that’s ‘just how you are’? You mean you’re being a total bitch right now and you’re okay with it? And now you want me to be okay with it as well because apparently you are too lazy to change your behavior. And by the way this basically means that you are expecting me to change my behavior in some way so that I can deal with your issues.  Hmmm… Does that actually make sense to you? Does it make sense to anyone? I’m seriously asking here! Is this behavior okay?

Listen friends… ‘That’s just how I am’ is the equivalent of ‘I’m just saying.’ And you shouldn’t be saying either. Especially if you are over the age of 13.  Let me give you an example.

I have a ‘friend’ who seems to be quite moody. Downright difficult. You don’t always know where you stand with her.  And it can be tiring. But if you mention this to her she unapologetically replies ‘That’s just how I am.’ As if she has no control over her own behavior. She can just be ‘who she is’ without any of the repercussions.  As if people are incapable of changing their behaviors. In her mind it’s not her problem-it’s yours. She has no responsibility in this.

I’m guessing it’s obvious that I’m going to bring this back around to my X.  My X was a big believer that people couldn’t change. He used that excuse often. He was just being him. And that was the end of it. Deal with it.  I on the other hand have the opinion that people change every day. People who say they can’t change just don’t want to. They don’t feel they need to. It’s easier to quit than to grow as a person. They obviously think that their feelings about any given situation trump yours. It’s narcissistic behavior at it’s best.  Maybe that is what really bothers me. I can still here my X’s voice in my head clearly. ‘People don’t change. Especially not at my age.’ ‘This is how I was raised. This is how my family was.’ Newsflash– your parents didn’t seem to have that great of a marriage. And your family doesn’t seem that happy with each other. I’m not sure how you don’t see that?! (And btw…it has been scientifically proven that you CAN teach old dogs new tricks. Age is irrelevant. Are you not as smart as a dog??) To me that attitude is the ultimate in selfish behavior. It’s immature and hurtful. If your behavior consistently is causing problems in your relationships-with people you supposedly care about-maybe…just maybe… you should consider a little self-reflection.

Maybe you can change. If you try. I believe you can! Isn’t that what life is really about? Is it really that impossible to try something different? To try something new for the people in your life? If you really are incapable of change- maybe you aren’t as smart as you think you are.

Actually…lets be honest. You definitely aren’t as smart as you think you are.👠

 

***And I recently read a quote which I found to be perfect. “A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life.” Muhammad Ali

 

 

Cinderella…and that damn Glass Slipper

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I recently tried watching the War of the Roses. Halfway through the movie I was so upset that I had to turn it off.  Does anyone remember that movie? It’s an old one. It stars Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner, and Danny DeVito. It’s a dark comedy…about a vicious divorce. I remember being somewhat entertained by it years ago. It seemed so outrageous. In the movie the Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner characters are a married couple who from the outside would appear to have it all. But the resentment and anger were brewing under the surface like poison. And (spoiler alert) the anger, resentment and rage was so intense that they killed each other in the end. That’s right. The anger killed them.

And from where I sit right now I wonder if they didn’t have it easy. The anger during a break-up is consuming.  It’s like a fire in your blood. You are shocked and outraged. How could this happen? You don’t deserve this! No one deserves this. Screw him. What a SELFISH and despicable coward. He’s a weak excuse for a human being.  The anger is overwhelming.

But something worse quickly takes its place. Something much harder to endure than all that rage.  The pain and rejection you feel when someone you were in a longtime relationship with-someone you love- walks away…is brutal.  Devastating. I can’t even put into words how it makes you feel. It makes you feel empty inside and like you are being suffocated at the same time. Like your drowning. You bared your most personal self to someone that you think will be there for you forever. But instead they take a pass. You aren’t a priority. They’re busy. They don’t love you back. They don’t have time for you. You aren’t their person. And they lied when they said you were. They are going to find someone new. Or they already did find someone new? But regardless, they rejected you. And that rejection and pain are the real killers. But not quick and explosive like the anger. Slow and cruel like a terminal illness.

Rejection steals your self-esteem. Your confidence. It makes you wonder every single day why you weren’t enough. “What’s wrong with me?” you can’t help but ask yourself repeatedly.  It’s the question that haunts your dreams. It’s what you are thinking about when you wake up at 3am feeling like you can’t breathe. Why didn’t they want me? And why did they ever pretend at all? Didn’t they know that I loved them? No matter how many people tell you that it wasn’t you-it was them…you will never be able to fully believe it. “You will find somebody new! Someone better!” they say. Like it’s just that easy…  Rejection changes your ability to give love. To find love. It steals a very precious part of you away. Forever.

Finding a lifelong companion is still a secret dream of mine. “Where’s my white knight?” I ask myself stupidly.  I want that feeling of being loved unconditionally. Of being cherished. I want to feel what it must be like to have someone choose to put your happiness above their own. To have someone who can’t imagine life without me. I see it around me every single day. So it must be possible! At least I think it’s possible. Maybe I’m naive.  Or, as one of my best friends said to me last night, “I think we watched Cinderella to many times when we were little.” Yes. I guess we did.

Cinderella…you bitch. And that damn glass slipper.

Game over…

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It’s funny how I can’t even exactly pinpoint where things went wrong in my marriage. Why is that? Is it normal? I mean you are going along okay. It’s just regular life. A typical marriage with three kids. Then…it isn’t. It’s done. And somehow, like a dumb-ass, I’m surprised. I knew things weren’t perfect. I was well aware of that. But I honestly  never thought things were ‘divorce worthy.’ Even when I found out about the affair…I (naively) thought it could be worked out. Maybe because I never expected things to be perfect. I was always too realistic for that. I did however believe in unconditional love. At least I used too…

I believed that marriage kind of went in phases. Some good. Some bad. Some hard. Some easy. But if you just stuck it out someday you would find yourself sitting on the front porch together watching your grandchildren play in the yard. On the swing that your own children used to play on. No one lives a life where they are ‘happy’ every moment. But you get through it. That’s reality. That’s life.

In my mind our marriage wasn’t that bad. Call me crazy! I guess I really was wearing rose colored glasses. Or had low expectations for myself. I remember all the snapshots that make up the memories of my marriage. The milestones. Our engagement. The Wedding. The Pregnancies. Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, the first day of kindergarten (x3), vacations, camping… And all the mundane things. Sick kids. Bath time. Family dinners. Cook outs. Watching Wheel of Fortune every night while I made dinner. I have a box full of photos that prove what a happy family we were! And I guess that was my biggest mistake…

I missed the clues that clearly stated ‘wake up lady-this isn’t going well.’But in all fairness-those clues kind of snuck up on me. They were small at first. Hardly even noticeable. The X spent more and more time away from home. But I never questioned it. I was lucky enough to be a stay-at-home mom…how could I complain? And I don’t think it was always another woman that had his attention. The truth is he just didn’t want to spend that much time at home. With me. With the kids. It wasn’t his comfort zone. His hours ‘at work’ were extensive. 70-80 hours a week. He went to the office every single day of the year- except for the major holidays. He just wasn’t around. We were never partners. We were never friends. He didn’t need me as a companion. He just needed me to be the mother of his kids. A housekeeper and a babysitter. And as a result…I was a very lonely wife. A very lonely woman.

I remember one night laying in bed with the X watching TV. As the mom of 3 small kids I craved adult conversation. Adult companionship.  I remember talking away about my day. The news. What we we had for dinner. Just talking. Trying hard to get his attention. In retrospect I don’t think he ever really realized how much I just wanted his attention. His affection…

“Don’t you have a friend to talk to about this?”interrupted my X matter-of-factly. He wasn’t even trying to be an ass. He just didn’t want to talk to me. His day was over. He wanted to watch TV. But I remember that interaction clearly. I can still see the pajamas (light blue) I was wearing and picture the clean white sheets on the bed. His statement kind of stunned me. It hurt me.  I knew then that I wasn’t his friend. And I felt the loneliness acutely.

Was that the beginning of the end? I’m not sure. I don’t know when the ‘end’ started. I know it was way before that night… Maybe it was just doomed from the start. It’s a mystery. I know the distance and lack of intimacy only increased over time. The void was filled with resentment and ‘unhappiness’ on both our parts. I wanted a husband who was a best friend. The X didn’t. I wanted unconditional love. The X didn’t speak that language…

But regardless of when or why or who or what…it did end. In a explosion of infidelity and anger. BOOM. It was over. Finished. No more. Game Over.

Surprise…you’re Divorced.👠

 

 

 

 

So what’s the point?

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My bdf (best divorced friend) is sure that everything bad we go through has some kind of a purpose. Like divorce. Like break-ups. It’s a learning experience. She thinks that once you wade through the pool of shit of whatever you are currently struggling with..there will be something better waiting on the other side. One of Oprahs ‘ah-ha’ moments. The holy grail..

I’m unconvinced. It seems to me that sometimes we wade through the shit..to find a mountain of shit on the other side. Or maybe the pool gets a little shallower..more like a puddle. But still no prize in sight. And the smell is atrocious. Life is just like that.

And that’s the hard part. I think that’s why we all get stuck. We need it to have meaning. I mean surely all this pain wasn’t for nothing? Right?!  If we can just figure out the why..the lesson..we can move on and find the good that is waiting patiently for us somewhere. And so here we all are-standing in crap- and can’t figure out where to go next. Plus..I’m getting used to the smell anyway.

So what’s the point? The skeptic in me says maybe by trying to figure out what happened and why..we become to afraid to move forward. To try again. I mean we definitely want to avoid being hurt again. And how are we going to avoid it if we haven’t figured out the answer? That’s logical..right?

For several years after my divorce I dreamed about my X almost every night. Not good dreams. The ones where you wake up in a full blown anxiety attack. Even my subconscious was trying to come up with a why for me. But the truth is that a why is really hard to come by in relationships gone bad. Because his side and her side don’t match up. He obviously doesn’t realize he is a narcissistic cheating ass. I think by definition that’s what makes him a narcissist. I promise he isn’t spending time worrying about the past. So why am I?

Maybe instead of looking for the answer- maybe we should just bury that shit and move on. Call it a draw and walk away. And let me say I don’t think it will be easy. We are conditioned to worry. To take responsibility. To be understanding. To solve the problems of those around us. But really? What’s the point? I’m tired of other people’s crap. And if I bury it-maybe I can grow some lovely roses. Shit does make the best fertilizer.

So grab your cutest heels and a shovel!

Do you smell something? Sniff sniff? I hope I don’t have something on my shoe..💩👠