Accepting the Peace

I want to hold this moment in my memory forever. Sitting outside, hearing the wind whistle in the trees. Watching the sunlight flick and flitter off the grass and working its way through the trees that are just now budding with new life. The colors are so vibrant and it’s not even sunset. I’m sitting in a swing large enough for two people and simply looking at the life around me. The cows are grazing in the front pasture, softly mooing as they make their way towards the pond. Whiskey, the brown mare, is just on the outskirts of the circle of cows, she’s not intruding but likes them for company. The sheep and goats are meandering through their enclosure, filling their bellies until night comes with the grass that’s just now coming up from the earth. The goat babies and the lambs are all laying together in the sunshine, forming a tight little pack of new life filled with hope.  The chickens are slowly walking through the yard and pastures, finding little treasures to peck and eat. It’s perfect. Everything about where I’m at right now is utterly perfect -except for one thing. I miss him. I want to share this moment, this beauty, with him. We’re still working on things, still trying to get this blended family thing under control. There’s a tightly controlled feeling of chaos that seems to swirl around us. Which is why this moment is so perfect – there’s no chaos right now. Just peace. Just quiet. Only the birds quietly chirping in the trees, crickets singing, and occasionally, a soft bleat of a baby goat.

In this moment, I’m not doubting myself. I’m not questioning whether I’m a good mom, a good person, a good business owner, a good girlfriend. I’m not wondering if I’m less than enough for everyone in my life. I’m simply “being”. I’m being quiet. I’m being content. I’m allowing the world to breath around me and I’m accepting what nature gives me. This is a treasure. I wish everyone could experience this at least once in their lives. This feeling of internal quietness. The journey which I took to arrive at this place was nasty and filled with ugliness, but now that I’m here, I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for who I am in this place. I’m thankful for the trust I placed in the right man because I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to do this on my own.

So for now, I will just be. I will be content. I will be at peace. I will trust myself. I will trust the man I’ve given my heart to. I will trust the universe to continue to lead me to peace.

Change

I recently discovered that my ex follows my blog posts. Originally, I didn’t think that would be an issue for me, that I would continue to be able to pour out my thoughts and feelings here – that was really stupid of me. After my letter to my ex was published, he felt the need to email me and point out line by line, where I was wrong. This resulted in several back and forth emails between the two of us. Ultimately, I cut off the communication because it isn’t healthy for either of us. He sees things his way and I see it my way – it was it is. I realize when he called his daughters “selfish teenagers” that he won’t ever realize the issues he has caused for them. He will always blame it on me. This simple statement: “My mother did not challenge my father, she supported him, as head of the home and leader of the family. You never allowed me to be that leader in all respects” really encompasses exactly where everything went wrong.

I was raised in a partnership family. There was no distinct leader in my family – my parents shared the role of parenting. My father didn’t make me cry almost every time he interacted with me. He didn’t bring up my teenage acne as something to make fun of and if he ever even thought of doing that, my mom would have shut him down – because you just don’t do that to your kids. I won’t say my family was perfect, because we weren’t, not by a long shot. Both my parents were highly functional alcoholics – and my mom was a mean drunk. But one thing I never doubted was the love my parents had for me. Our kids do not have that same comfort. They are both telling their therapists the same thing – it was easier to laugh off Dad’s cruel comments about skin, grades, sexuality, lack of responsibility, general teenage angst, then to ask him to stop. They are both saying if they asked him to stop, it got worse – they would get made fun of for being too sensitive, that he didn’t mean anything by it. Their defense mechanism now for pain is to smile and laugh about anything that hurts them.

Our youngest is at the point where she cannot even recognize her own emotions because she felt as if she wasn’t allowed to have them. She has collapsed completely in on herself. I sat with her on Saturday and all she could say is “Mom, it hurts. Everything hurts. I feel like I have a weight on my chest and it’s killing me. If this is what ‘feeling’ is like, I don’t want to do it”. Later that night, she cut herself to try to deal with the pain. She is at an inpatient facility and has been there for a week. Even there, she managed to find something sharp and tried to hurt herself with it instead of dealing with the pain.

So, now I’m asking – did I cause this? Did I not step between them and him enough? How was I so unaware of the pain they were going through every time he threw a sharp barb at them? How was he so unaware of the pain he was inflicting? These are two precious, unique, wonderful teenage girls who are dealing with the constant pressure outside of the house to be perfect, look perfect, and act perfect. The house should be there safe place, not a place where they have to think before they speak because they are worried about how their Dad might react.

I never ever realized that he was supposed to be the leader of the family. The man of the house. I thought that we were supposed to be partners. I guess if I had of realized early on in the marriage he was supposed to be the leader, I wouldn’t have questioned him? Oh come on, that’s utter bullshit – of course I would have. I’m not a meek person, if I feel someone is doing something completely wrong that will cause someone else pain, I’ll step in – and that’s where I failed in our marriage. I took the role of parenting away from him as much as I could because I was tired of watching our kids cry at the dinner table 5 out of 7 nights.

Am I a perfect parent? Oh hell no, not in a million years. I don’t make them do their chores all the time or feed the dogs or sweep the floor. I let them back talk me, I let them walk that line of being disrespectful – and then we talk about it. We talk about why they said what they said and what their view points are. We talk about everything – about why they don’t do their chores right when I ask them, why they back talk sometime – and we figure our issues out. I try to lead by example – not always the best approach but it’s the one I have. I try to show them simple kindness to everyone and every living thing can go a long way. I try to get them to think before they say mean things about strangers. I try to set the best example possible for them. I know I’m not perfect and I screw up plenty, but when my kids make a bad choice, like drinking at a party, they know to come home safely and talk to me about it and why they did it. Oh, there were consequences but the most important thing is that they felt safe to come home because I wasn’t going to lose my mind over it.

At this point, the kindest thing their father could do would be to leave them alone. Just let them heal and gain strength, let them work on their defenses until they feel strong enough to handle him and his particular style of parenting. He can blame everything on me, I’m strong enough to handle it – but they aren’t strong enough to face the blame he will put on them for simply being teenagers. They don’t hate him for leaving me, in fact our youngest was very clear to me on that, they hate for making them feel they were never good enough for him. I want them to have a relationship with him at some point, they need to have one with their dad – but not right now. Not when all they see is that he left them and built a new family immediately with a pretty blonde girl and her pretty, perfect, blonde daughter. I know he can’t understand all this and never will – but that is the reality of the situation. I know he will blame me for all of this but this is not my doing – I did not create this situation. I did not tell my daughters lies and than show them proof of my lies. I hope he finds that happiness and peace he needs in his relationship, I hope that she makes him feel that he is the leader and the man of the house. I hope he finds peace within himself and comes to understand that tearing down people because he feels some type of inadequacy is not a good way to live life. I truly hope he can be happy because everyone deserves that. As hurt as I am that he has taken the path he has, I wish him happiness.

So, I started this whole post with the intention of saying that I’m changing the name of my blog and now I find that maybe I can write regardless of if my ex is reading it or not. Just because he reads it, doesn’t mean I have to rationalize my feelings to him. He lost the right to question me or my feelings when he left.

Recycle your heart

A friend of mine shared this post on Facebook today and it made me pause. The last two lines, “Don’t waste your pain. Recycle your heart” stopped me in my tracks (truly, I was doing the checkbook and work emails and had to stop and think after reading these words).

“Don’t waste your pain” – what does this mean to you? To me it means, don’t let all the pain you experience in your life be for nothing. Learn from it, grow from it – do not let it destroy you. I was close these last few weeks to letting my pain destroy me.

By my nature, I love people. Even the crazy, hard to handle, can’t-you-just-shut-up people. That hasn’t changed at all but…but…I don’t want to love anyone ever again.  Now that I’ve said this, I almost feel a sense of relief. Similar to when an alcoholic first says publicly, “Hi, I’m Bob and I’m an alcoholic”. Hi, I’m Ashley, I’m trying to heal from a broken heart…there I’ve said it and acknowledged that my heart still hurts. I guess that’s been my biggest problem – admitting that my heart hurts. I’ve been so busy just surviving for the last 7 months that I haven’t paid attention to my pain. I’ve managed my kid’s pain, I’ve managed my employee’s pain, I’ve managed my friend’s pain, hell I’ve even managed my dog’s pain – but I’ve pushed my pain down. Firmly down. I now realize I have to acknowledge what I need. I need time, I need to decompress. I need to sit with my pain and understand that it hasn’t just magically disappeared, I’ve just forced it down, into a nice little compartment with a note that says, “DO NOT OPEN…EVER EVER EVER”. Maybe I should open it a little?  Maybe if I open that compartment just a bit, I can start to recycle my heart?

“Recycle your heart” – This one is much tougher. How does a person learn to open their hearts again after experiencing so much pain? If you don’t open your heart again, are you therefore wasting your pain?  I’ve dated a very nice man in the last 7 months but I couldn’t give him my heart. Every time we got close emotionally, I found myself finding reasons not to reach out to him, not to disclose daily intimate details, not to say that I was looking forward to seeing him. Needless to say, we’re just friends now. I realize now that I’m not in a place yet to recycle my heart. I’m guarding it, making sure all the bricks and mortar I’ve used to build the wall around it are firmly in place. How can I do that and recycle my heart and put it to good use again? I honestly don’t know. It’s devastating to realize that my heart is so hardened and broken that I both can’t and won’t use it to care for someone. That’s not to say that I don’t care for my kids and my friends because I do but the mere thought of being emotionally involved with someone gives me anxiety. Serious stomach upsetting anxiety.

I guess I still have a ways to go in my healing but at least I’m stronger than yesterday. I’ll be stronger tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. I won’t give in to my pain, I will not waste it…and I will recycle my heart.

Hell has frozen over

I thought maybe 2 or 3 years down the road my STBX would understand what exactly he gave up when he walked out the door that September day. I never assumed it would be anytime soon. I definitely thought hell would freeze over before it would happen now. Well, hell has frozen over because he has seen the light.

He came to my office last Thursday. He looked horrible, seriously, like death. If death could be personified, it was him. He has lost at least 40lbs, his hair was long and combed over in a very unattractive manner, and he looked crumpled in – if that makes sense? My heart went out to him but at the same time, I thought, “welcome to my world”. This is how I looked for months after he left. I felt crumpled in – like I couldn’t function. He swears he has realized what he gave up, what he left behind. He wants to be the dad and husband he knows now he can be. He is breaking up with his girlfriend, going to start therapy, possibly get on medication, and anything else I ask him to do.

I told him the first thing he needs to do is get his relationship right with the girls. I was very honest that I am NOT in an space where I could even consider reconciliation – and I don’t know if I’ll ever be. He doesn’t seem to understand how badly and deeply he hurt me and the kids.

My head is swimming…I just don’t know how to process any of this. How can he expect me to ever trust him again? How could I ever hand over my heart to someone who flung it away like garbage? Not just once but twice. What kind of fool would that make me. And why now? Why would he come back into my life now? I’m finally happy, I’m in a good place, I love my life and I would never ever go back to how I lived before. I don’t think he could even handle the person I have become. Hell, he couldn’t handle the person I was and she wasn’t nearly as strong as who I am now.

Sigh…I’m not going backward, that’s for damn sure.

4 months

Tomorrow marks 4 month since my ex officially lost his mind, moved out and moved on. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my happiness. If someone had of told me 4 months ago that I would be this happy, this at peace, and this contented, I would have called that person a dirty, filthy liar and probably punched them square in the face. Tomorrow, I would have had to apologize for that behavior.

Each day I wake up, alone, and I’m happy. Every night, I go to bed with my big dog Chewbacca, laying on “his” pillow and I smile. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not a “God-fearing Christian woman”. I believe in a higher power, I believe in prayer – not necessarily to the Christian God, but more of a prayer put out to the Universe, to whomever may be listening at that moment (Mohammed, God, Buddha, you get the idea). 3 months ago, as I laid in bed, gripped by anxiety and fear, I put it out there “Please, please just let me get through this. Let me be able to provide for my daughters, let me have strength, let me find peace.” I don’t fill my prayers with excess words, I just simply put out to the Universe what I need help with. Last night, as I slowly worked towards sleep, I realized that my soul is at peace and my heart is full. My heart is full of love for my friends, for those people that surround me every day and give me love and encouragement. My spirit is lifted and soars when my close friend tells me “You make my heart happy”. Simple words, spoken softly at dinner the other night. Words I would have missed out on if I had of stayed married – I would not have accepted her invitation to dinner because I would have felt guilty for leaving the house and doing something for myself. Now, those feelings of guilt are nothing but distant memories.

So as I lay there last night, I said a new prayer to the Universe. I simply said, “Thank you. Thank you for bringing me to this place. Thank you for showing me how good life is on my own. Thank you for helping me find peace within myself. Thank you for allowing me to feel this level of happiness”. I’m surprised that within 4 months, I have found this part of me, I thought she was dead. I thought the piece of me that absolutely loves life and everything about it was killed off. Every day is another day that my soul reawakens and rejoices.

Are there worries and fears still – absolutely. There’s even some doses of humiliation – can’t get a car loan and because I’m so poor, I qualify for government healthcare assistance. Even those things are good for me though, they remind me to be ever grateful for what I do have. A house, the ability to provide for my children, the intelligence to budget, and the ability to manage with all the chaos that swirls around me daily. Every day, I’m reminded of my own strength – I forgot how strong I was. I will never, ever forgot that again. Never again will I allow myself to be quiet when I think something is wrong . Never again will I be silent in the effort to “keep the peace”. Never again will I allow someone else to make me feel less than…I AM MORE THAN.

I’ve started seeing someone. Frankly, he is one of the many reasons I am happy right now. When he looks at me, it’s like he doesn’t see anything or anyone else. His entire focus is on me. He says little things in passing that to most people probably wouldn’t mean much, but yet they fluster me. He seems to know they fluster me, so he doesn’t push it. He understands my need to go slow, my need to proceed with caution. He has 2 teenage daughters, so he knows why I won’t invite him to my house or introduce him formally to my daughters. Oh, they know about him because they see me smile when he texts and calls me but they won’t meet him for quite sometime yet. I have to know where this “thing” that we’re doing is going. It could be just a temporary thing or it could develop into something deeper. I don’t know and until I do, I’m not bringing anyone home. All I know right now is he makes me happy and flustered and makes me feel “more than”. For now, I’m just going to roll around in the joy of having someone think about me, worry about me, and yes, lust after me. I’m enjoying someone who thinks my mess of hair is gorgeous, someone who can’t stop looking at me, someone who laughs with me not at me, and who thinks that even though I’m quite awkward and dorky, that I’m wonderful. Someone who understands me when I say, “if you ever lie to me, I’ll burn your house down” (figuratively of course!). That will forever be my one requirement in any relationship – friendship or otherwise – no lies. Just be truthful at all times, even if the truth is ugly and hurts. I know that being married to a liar has forever changed me and I accept that change. Whatever the ultimate outcome is with him, he’s good for my soul right now and I’m going to enjoy every yummy moment with him – and yes, he’s very yummy.

I’m realistic, I know that I’m still going to be hurt in the future by my ex’s behaviors. I know that there is a world of struggle still ahead of me, but as long as I can find my way back to center, I’ll be good. These last 4 months have been incredible and painful and amazing and frightening. But, I’m still here, I’m still standing – fiercer and stronger than I ever thought possible.

Advice to Stay at Home Moms

10 years ago, we decided that I would quit my lucrative career and become a stay at home mom. At the time, this was the best thing ever! This move enabled me to really be hands on with the kids, it allowed him to completely focus on his career and provide for our family. Fast forward 10 years…

I have discovered that the worth of a stay at home mom in the eyes of the world is literally nothing. I have no worth, the work that I did to raise our kids is worth nothing. The dedication I put into our family and his career means nothing. I have no value. There is no dollar figure to put on what I did and continue to do.

Someone asked me recently if I regret staying home. Even with all of this going on, my answer is no. I do not regret leaving the corporate world to raise two daughters and allow my husband to thrive in his career. I do not, and will never, regret the decision.  However, it is humiliating to know that I have no commercial value now. The past 10 years mean nothing because I didn’t earn a paycheck. My intellect, ability to problem solve, think on my feet, coordinate mass amounts of people, cajole, clean up vomit, make dinner, deal with the emotions of two teenagers, run a household on a budget – you get the idea, the list is endless – is worthless. It’s humiliating to be told that I cannot get a car loan because I have “no defined work history”.   My credit score is amazing and I have no debt but because I have no work history, no income of my own for the last two years, I cannot get a car loan.  All these realizations came up because the engine in my 8 year old Expedition needs replacing. This will cost me $6,000. So, in my naivety, I thought it would make more sense to purchase a good used vehicle. Come to find out, I cannot do that. So, I’ll shell out the $6,000 that I don’t have, all because I was a stay at home mom. All because I chose to raise two children and focus on them.

If I had to do it over again, I would take the same path. The advice I would give to future stay at home moms – DO IT. You’ll never regret it, no matter if your husband finds a new shiny toy he wants to play house with. Your kids will always be thankful that YOU were and are the one constant for them. YOU are the person they will always turn to, you are their hero. Being a stay at home mom will prepare you for the possibility of your husband losing his mind and turning into a monster – because you battled the monsters your children faced daily. You’ll be stronger than you ever thought possible, wiser than you probably want to be, and possessing a grace you didn’t know you had. Have faith in yourselves and know that you are doing the most thankless and most fulfilling job ever.

Yesterday, he and I had yet another “parenting meeting” to discuss our parenting road map and things that should be in the decree. I made the commitment that I would NOT move from this school district until the kids are out of high school. I only have two years left, no big deal. Apparently it is to him and I’m so confused as to why. He kept saying “You’re taking on that burden, what if you find an amazing job and need to move? This is a burden you’re taking on.” He kept using the term “burden” and kept buzzing around in my head after the meeting was over. It stuck in my brain, like a popcorn kennel gets stuck in your teeth.

My kids are not a burden. They have never been a burden and they will never be a burden. When I gave birth to them, my life stopped being my own and became theirs. They bring me joy, sorrow, wrinkles, and plenty of grey hair – but they are amazing, AMAZING, people that I have helped to shape and develop. Never in a million years would I consider any sacrifice made for my children a burden.   I love the fact that now they are older, we can talk and laugh and share jokes that we couldn’t before. I am grateful for the fact they want to be my friend. I am more grateful they understand that even though I am their friend, I am first and foremost their mother, whether they like what I have to say or not.

Last night, I was reminded about the joy my children provide.  We had just finished up dinner and were listening to music. “Uptown Funk” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPf0YbXqDm0 came on and suddenly, we all started dancing and singing in the kitchen. Singing at the top of our lungs and dancing around the entire downstairs. It was completely impromptu, loud, riotous, and filled with joy and laughter. One of those moments that will stay in my memory forever. It served as another reminder that my kids are not a burden, they are  a gift – and I am the luckiest person in the world.

Kissing my youngest good night last night, she pressed two quick kisses on my forehead and we laughed because we both said, “one, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one hundred”. When they were toddlers, that’s what we would do every night at bedtime. Just another quick reminder that being a stay at home mom was the best job I’ve ever had. There is no monetary value placed on the work I did, but looking at my children, I know that my job was invaluable.

As I typed the last word in the paragraph above, I received a text from my youngest – “Love you”….

I might be a bit broken

Something I have discovered recently – I have no idea how to accept compliments or niceties directed at me. In the last few weeks, several gentleman callers have said extremely flattering things to me about my level of attractiveness and personality in general. Every time, every single damn time, I receive a compliment I start to stutter and blush and generally act like a buffoon.  How did I get to be the ripe old age of 41 and not know how to graciously accept a compliment? Easy, I spent the last 18 years not really being given a compliment or having niceties directed at me. Ok, let’s not exaggerate, there were compliments given at times but they weren’t frequent and they were generally at times where a compliment is required – dressing up for an event or something along those lines. I have been given flowers a handful of times in 18 years – that’s not exaggerating – and they were usually brought home from Target or another grocery store.

Let’s address the nice things. Best thing ever – surprise party for my 40th birthday. Amazing amazing experience – could not believe my husband, who has never done anything like that before, was able to pull it off. I was blown away he did that for me but my immediate thought was, “Oh, I need to make sure to fawn over him and tell him how wonderful he is so that he knows I appreciate this effort”. I couldn’t enjoy the party because I spent most of the time worried about how I would need to show him appreciation for his effort. I also worried about the fact I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would demand appreciation for this for years to come – and I was right. This year on my 41st birthday, there was nothing except the statement “well, I can’t outdo what I did last year!”.  The other thing about that party is that he invited his co-workers – people I didn’t even know. Including his now girlfriend and her daughter. He left the party with her for about 15 minutes and I remember calling him out on that. My memories of that party are tainted with the fact that I was worried about what he was doing with her when he walked her to her car. Now I realize my gut was telling me something and I just didn’t fully listen to it.

The dishwasher – if he unloaded the dishwasher, he needed praise for it. If he folded a load of laundry – needed praise. If he vacuumed, guess what? Yes, ding ding, he needed praise. If he cleaned the shower, recognition was required he did it. He couldn’t just do something to be helpful, he needed to make sure I knew he did it. He always said, “I did it to be helpful”. Yes, that may be the case, but I shouldn’t have to give a compliment or special recognition to you because you were helpful.

So, you may be asking yourself, what does any of this have to do with my current predicament of not being able to accept compliments. Everything, actually. Living with a narcissist (explanation of narcissism: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissism) gradually reduces the other person’s ability to know what is “normal” in a relationship. That’s what I’m struggling with right now. I don’t understand compliments given so freely with no expectations. Every time my spouse gave me a compliment, I knew I had to return one in kind. He had a very fragile ego that needed supporting at all times. He needed to be told how wonderful he was, how much I appreciated him, how much he was loved – but none of that was given back to me. Nor was it required. I don’t require someone else to tell me good things about myself, I have a healthy sense of myself. My confidence is not dependent on anyone else’s approval of me. The older I get the more I like myself – I think that is a normal, human experience.

So, now I’m venturing into the world of dating and I have people saying nice things to me and I have no idea how to accept these nice words. A punch on the arm to a compliment giver is probably not the best way to accept said compliment. I have come to realize that I’m really struggling with this. There’s still work to be done on myself…

The difference between saying sorry and just being sorry.

One of my major stipulations during this whole process is that he wouldn’t have his new girlfriend or her daughter around our daughter. It’s simple really, I don’t want our daughters thinking that cheating and lying are okay. Nor do I think it’s appropriate for them to be made to accept his new life before they have even grieved for our old life. In our last “co-parenting” sessions, he promised he would not have them around his other family. He promised the whole team – my lawyer, the therapist, the financial guy, and his lawyer – and me. I knew better, my friends told me not to trust his word, hell his friends told me not to trust his word…but I did. Holding onto the belief that somewhere in his convoluted thinking he would stay true to his word.

Last night I was contacted by someone who asked if I knew that he, his girlfriend, a friend of her’s and our daughter, K, were all hanging out New Year’s Eve. Obviously, I didn’t know that. Obviously, I was still working on the assumption he would be man enough and father enough, to stay true to his word to a team of people. The person that contact me just had a rumor, no proof but felt strongly enough about it to tell me. Actually, they were asking about my well-being and this came out. So, once again, just like Thanksgiving, I was humiliated and horribly hurt. I had to talk to K about it. I had to determine if this person was being truthful or malicious. After talking to K, I realized this person was being truthful.

I then asked him if it was true, if he broke his word. Initially, he swore girlfriend was in Austin. It wasn’t until I told him that I knew the truth that he admitted it and then apologized for not being 100% truthful.

We had our team meeting yesterday where this was discussed in length and depth. During this meeting, he admitted he took K to Austin with him after Christmas. He said both instances happened because K “begged” him to spend time with his girlfriend. the night before, she told me that “she wants him to be happy and that being with Brittany makes him happy, so she wants him to be able to do that”. She also said she likes Brittany – which to me is actually a good thing. It would make this situation so much more horrible if he was living with someone that was a complete bitch. Thankfully, she isn’t and K likes her – which is a relief.

My concern is that it is not our daughter’s responsibility to make him happy. He refuses to see that K is clinging to him because she’s scared to death if she doesn’t accept everything he does that he’ll leave her just like he did me. Right now, K would jump into a lion’s mouth if she thought that would make him happy. She is tearing herself up trying to act like an adult, trying to be the person he wants her to be.

It’s strange because I thought I would feel anger about this situation but I don’t. I’m not surprised he couldn’t keep his word. I feel saddened by what he’s doing to his daughter, forcing her to be in the middle of this, forcing her to lie by omission, forcing her to be a little grown up in his new life, forcing her be his “friend” and be his new girlfriend’s “friend”. The worse part, he’s playing her against me – asking her to lie to me and making me the bad guy. God only knows what he actually says to her about me when they are together. Who does that? What kind of parent tries to turn a child against the other parent?

In our meeting, he apologized for his choices but let’s be honest, he’s not sorry for the choices he made, he is sorry he got caught. If this person had not come to me the other night, I would have been none the wiser and he would have gotten away with once again breaking his word. He’s not sorry he lied, he’s sorry he got tangled up in his own deceit and was held accountable for his actions. Again though, there are no real consequences. A slap on the wrist to him, a tongue lashing by our team, but other than that, there’s nothing. How is that acceptable? How can he get away with so many bad behaviors and never ever really feel a consequence? More importantly, what kind of man puts his daughter in this position? K knew that he wasn’t supposed to have her around his girlfriend. She “begged” (if indeed she did beg) because she wanted to make him happy, not because she necessarily wanted to share him with his new girlfriend. A stronger man, a better man, would have said no. A stronger man would have been a better parent, would not have worried about being a “friend” to his daughter. A better man wouldn’t have broken his word. Then again, a better man wouldn’t have cheated on his wife and lied about it. So, again, I’m not surprised.

I truly see a monster when I look at him now. Regardless of what he did to our marriage, what he’s doing to his children will never be forgivable. He is showing them that it is okay for a man to cheat and lie because he was “unhappy”. He’s not showing strength, he’s not being a good example of what a man can truly be to a woman. I wish for one moment he would ask himself, “If my daughter was in a relationship with a man whose behaviors mirrored mine, would I be happy with that?” Then again, he doesn’t seem to see the issues with his behavior. He doesn’t seem to recognize the damage he is doing. He doesn’t take ownership of his actions. He isn’t sorry for what he did, he’s just sorry he was caught.

The familiar and unfamiliar

I made my homemade chili today. It’s been simmering on the stove all day, making the house smell amazing. All the condiments are set out on the kitchen table. Everything is so “familiar” and comforting. It’s so silly but making chili seems to have served as a “reset” to a new normal. It’s almost as it the chili signifies normalcy. I haven’t made it since last winter and it’s been long overdue. The girls were so happy to smell it and see me working in the kitchen. I had the music, MY music, up loud. There was much singing and dancing that went along with a dash of this and a pinch of that. I think it was appropriate that this song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C83KJ5V9zvo came on while I was cooking. It was familiar to make the chili but oh so unfamiliar to enjoy myself so much.

After making the chili, I took the youngest to the gym with me. Another unfamiliar scenario. Previously, I’ve always went with friends but she needs to “make weight” for powerlifting so I talked her into going with me. As I put in my ear buds and tuned into “pop workout”, I started walking on the treadmill…and then I started running and before I knew it, I had ran a total of 2 miles and it felt amazing. I didn’t want to stop; however, my legs did. As I looked over at my kid, I saw a genuine smile on her face, along with some puzzlement. She said, “Mom, you are kicking my butt!”. Which made me grin, a silly big grin. It was good. She then showed me how to “squat” with weight on the bar and it was amazing. Working out was familiar but having someone with me who was so proud of me, unfamiliar.

All these things sound so mundane, but the emotions that accompanied them are so unfamiliar to me after living the last 3 years in such a state of turmoil. There’s a soft hum of peace inside me right now. I know it will get louder, I have faith that the soft hum will turn into a full blown song and I’m excited by it. It’s strange because this “aloneness” is actually a balm to my soul.

I have a tattoo that reads, “I am the hero of my story”, sometimes I forget that indeed, I’m the hero of my story. Oh, there’s a villian – a big bad monster who blazes a path of destruction- but the hero always conquers the monster. As long as I can always remember that I’m the hero of my story, I’ll be just fine.

So, here I sit on my couch, happy to be alone. Drinking a beer, smelling the chili, and watching the Cowboy’s once again crumble under the pressure of a playoff game but hoping they can pull it off and win. I’m listening to the hum of my soul and I’m starting to sing along – and it’s glorious. It’s an unfamiliar tune, but I’m hoping it will become familiar soon.

I’m not even sure what to say…

So, let me preface all the following words with the fact I’m still happy, I’m still thankful, in fact even more so now than before. The reason I want to preface is because I’m not sure exactly what to say and how to feel.

Denver was fantastic for me, an amazing eye opening experience. Coming home sucked, but probably not for the reasons you think. Stay engaged, there’s a story to come.

I walked in the door and the first thing that greets me is the news that my ex has been playing house with his 26 year old co-worker.  Ok, so let’s be honest – show of hands, who’s surprised? Anyone, anyone? Yeah, me either. I knew he wouldn’t be alone for long, he doesn’t function well on his own.  He’s not strong enough to deal with the quiet of being alone. It’s hard being alone.  Does it hurt that he’s already playing house…hmmm, no, not really. I got a phone call from a concerned coworker of his right after he left and they told me that something was going on with her. I wasn’t even shocked then and it has only been a short time that he had been gone. Does it hurt to think that he was probably “talking” to her all along? Hmm, yes but only because it means he lied to me once again. And once again, I accepted the lies. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. I was a trusting fool again. So the hurt is because I believed in him, I believed him when he said he was leaving me to see who else was out there for him. He already had someone lined up. That’s why he was so miserable for the two weeks before he actually left. He was juggling two people and trying to figure out how to get away from me with the least collateral damage.

The greatest amount of pain is from something you probably wouldn’t have predicted. He involved our girls in his new relationship. He introduced our daughters to her and her daughter. He is playing house with her and OUR kids. He didn’t even have the balls to tell me about her and ask me if I was okay with it before he did it. He just did it – no respect to me, the person that spent the last 18 years with him, the person that quit work and stayed home and made his house his castle for him for the last 10 years. Seriously, all he had to do every day was come home and sit on the couch. I kept the house clean, the kids quiet, the dogs relatively well behaved, dinner on the table, laundry done, all those June Cleaver things that every man dreams about.

Now, let’s pretend the roles were reversed – I bring home a guy and have him spend the night. I introduce him to our girls and they really like him. Pretty sure the top of his head would pop off. Or maybe not? Maybe he never thinks of me at all? That’s probably more the case – I am less than shit on his shoe now. Which is obvious by his complete lack of regard toward me in this situation. So, am I angry that he has a new girlfriend, absolutely not. I fully expected him to have a new person within 6 weeks of leaving me, in fact, I told my dad that same thing. What I am hurt about is the fact that he didn’t even have enough respect for me to tell me the truth and ask if it’s okay for the girls to meet her. That in and of itself is unbelievable. It does however show his complete selfishness and arrogance.  A normal, caring human would not have done that.

**Update 11/30/14  – It’s all better, she’s 32.** The one thing that does make me gag a little is that she’s only 26 years old. That’s only 6 years older than his oldest daughter, 9 years older than our first daughter, and 11 years older than our youngest. Does he not see that he’s become a walking cliche of a “midlife crisis”?  How sad is that for him? It actually breaks my heart a little that this man whom I thought was so strong and attractive and capable of anything he put his mind to has now turned into this.  I feel as if he’s actually lost his mind a little. Or has become so insecure that he needs someone her age to boost him up. It’s so sad for him. At some point, this girl will grow up and see him for who he is really is. Or hell, maybe not! Maybe they are perfect for each other, two very needy people that can constantly soothe one another’s egos. At 26, I was needy as hell. I needed him to constantly lift up my ego and I did the same for him. At 41, I don’t need anyone to lift me up and I couldn’t be happier about that.  I guess I never realized how much he really did need to have constant ego stroking. I take full blame for that.

This post is all over the damn place. I’m just so hurt, shocked, and disappointed in who he has become. I look at him now and see an ugly ugly person. A person who is only interested in what’s good for him and no one else. How could he not ask me about introducing our daughters to his new girlfriend? How could he truly believe that the girls would be just fine with all this? Oh sure, our youngest loves his  new girlfriend, why wouldn’t she? There’s only 11 years separating them but at some point, it is going to hit her. At some point, she’ll put two and two together and realize how small of a man this makes him. How could he just disregard me like that? I would never ever do that to him, regardless of how ridiculous his behavior is now, he’s still the father of my children and I would never treat him with such disrespect, nor would I ever bring a new person into my house when we  haven’t even met with lawyers together yet. It just feels so wrong on so many levels. There are so many things wrong with it and it breaks my heart all over again. I never thought that someone I loved for 18 years would throw me and my feelings away like yesterday’s trash. Thank god the love I felt died 2 months ago. Shriveled up and died.

So, yes my heart is broken but not because he cheated on me again. I’m not surprised about that. My heart is broken for him and for the person he was. He was a good person at some point in time, he really was. He had a big heart, at least I think he did. He told me recently he has a darkness in him. I guess I see that darkness now. It’s ugly and pathetic and I’m so relieved not to be living with it.