I don't think I'll be able to tell our kids how we met. Not until they're legal, anyway. I believe that I laughed at him because he coughed when he drank his clear cranberry and vodka (the bartender thought he was cute) and then later on in the evening, I asked him if he was stoned. Yup, I know how to win 'em over.
I remember vividly how I felt before I met him. I was married at the time, to my first husband, whose behavior still blows my mind. We had met and become engaged (because neither of us believed in dating) after knowing each other precisely 5 months. The funny thing? I didn't like him when I first met him. He was sweaty and round. And wore plaid shirts. And lots of brown. He had a forced frantic laissez-faire air about him. He drank a lot. I drank a lot. I think we were both running away. At that point in my life I was convinced that I would never love anyone passionately and that I should marry for friendship. I was 23. I wonder now why I thought I knew what I was doing. Obviously I didn't know a good husband from a (insert appropriate rude remark here) .
Looking back, he never wanted to be involved in the wedding. He wanted me to sever all ties with my parents because he thought my mom would "control" me. He wanted to treat me like shit all day and then have sex with me all night. He wanted to get drunk and scream and yell at me calling me a whore and a slut for interfering with him and his "best friend", whom I had known longer than he had. He would fluctuate between berating and humiliating me in public, coming up from behind me in the grocery store and then stating loudly that he wanted to fuck me while he groped my breast, not unlike a doctor performing a routine breast exam. When I stood, mannequin-like, praying for it to be over, he became enraged and accused me of being "frigid."
I blame myself for large parts of his behavior. I allowed him to take advantage of me. I didn't say anything when he started controlling what I bought to eat. I didn't stop him when he started insisting that I buy clothes 4 or 5 sizes too big because he couldn't figure out who I was trying to impress. I didn't call the police when he threw a full wine bottle at my head because he said I was emasculating him. I didn't do anything. I cowered. And flinched. And cried all by myself because I thought that I would be married to him for the rest of my life. My "friend".
The crazy thing? I tried harder. I wore those damn baggy clothes and started cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner. I cleaned more. I did his grades, decorated his classroom, and wrote his lesson plans. I aplogized to people he thought I had wronged, kowtowing to anybody he felt that I had slighted. I stayed endless hours after school with him coaching football, and then attending his practices with him, running endlessly in his vision, because he didn't trust me to occupy my own time. I stopped watching TV that by his proclamation "made me more stupid by the minute" and expanded my reading to include books that he had already read and approved. I stopped talking to my friends. He talked to them. He told them that I was a paranoid frigid alcoholic who was in grave danger of losing her husband (the only man who was brave enough to take me in despite my horrid reputation) if I didn't try harder.
When I was almost nothing, some small part of me went in to survival mode. I formulated a plan. I found a University. I got an interview. And despite his accusations that I was stupid to go, and that I was even less intelligent for spending the plane fare (even though I made more money than he did) , something told me to go. And I went. Without any money, save for a couple hundred, and no credit card because I wasn't allowed to have one. Without him.
I slept all day upon arriving 2000 liberating miles away from him, only to find numerous messages, accusing me of "fucking some other guy" because I hadn't answered the phone. I had severe jet lag and was emotionally worn down, but somehow, I mustered up the energy to go out and seduce numerous men. Frigid me. At this point, I shut down. I was chain smoking. Chain drinking, and hanging on by my fingernails. I ate only to keep up appearances, and would sneak off to vomit in private, because I was too damaged and too scared to be able to keep anything down. I believed everything that my husband said. I was worthless, and worse yet, I was a whore. I was physically and emotionally beaten and I saw no way out.
Enter dh. While my first husband has since filled my stay in New Mexico with hot, torrid, sex (thus allowing him to use his favorite word, "cuckhold") - I'm going to have to put to bed any spicy whore reputation that he might have concocted and declare that nothing of the sort happened. Mostly we talked, for hours on end, and without pause. dh treated me like a normal, intelligent, human being. He was quiet, soft spoken, human.
I talked about wanting to be a counselor. I talked about wanting to be a mom. I talked about being a teacher. I talked about how not being able to give more food to my students broke my heart a little whenever they cried because they were hungry. I talked about smashing geckos in the door when I came home and feeling guilty about it. I talked about eating oysters and wanting to shop at Old Navy. I talked about everything. And nothing. And never once was I accused of being stupid or shallow or vain.
And I laughed. Oh God, how I laughed. I laughed so hard I had the tears coming out of my eyes and I was so happy I forgot that I was just a scared little broken girl who was going back to him at the end of the week. dh saw the fear in my eyes. The dark circles under them. He saw the weight dropping, leaving me skeletal, starving, and unable to eat. He saw that I felt pressured and on the edge. You know what he said? Nothing. Not a damn thing. He respected me. Respected that I was married and needed to sort myself out.
That was why I fell in love with him. And I can't say when it happened, or how, exactly. But I do know that I went back to Saipan knowing that I had married the wrong boy (because no male that is abusive is a man) from Washington State. So I got myself up, and I got myself the hell out of there. And never once have I looked back to regret it.
I know dh is the right one because I miss him when he's gone. I lie in my bed at night in my pillow nest and beg God to bring him home to me in one piece whether he is in Iraq or Okinawa. I am happy to see him when he walks in from work, and miss him when he walks out the door. I am angered when he is hurt, and delerious when he is happy. I am even angry that he smokes because I don't want his life shortened unnecessarily now that we are together. I just want to spend as many nights as I have left snuggling my face into that space between his collarbone (the broken one that just out) and his neck.
Those are the things that I will tell our kids about.
You, my dear, are the shizznit.
I dated a guy who told me that he'd love me if I'd only lose 25 pounds. This was after picking up after him for 3 years and being grateful for it. Thank god I didn't marry him.
The other blogger may be a wench,, but she spurred you into writing a damn fine post.
I'm so glad that you found dh! Really, you deserve it, especially after what you had to go through with the other one.
I agree 100% with ViVi... damn fine post. I was engaged to a creep who never once told me I looked pretty... but would make recommendations on what make up to buy and how to wear it, how I should brush my hair, etc. It makes me appreciate Nick that much more. I'm glad you found your Prince Charming. :)
I think I lived with your ex husband about five years ago. Seriously. It took me a year to get him out of my apartment but he terrorized me and my kids (who were 1 and 4). I know how hard it was for you to get away and I'm glad you did. I'm glad you found DH.
Alex...thank God you got out of there and were able to find your voice and your smile again. DH is lucky to have you.
That's a beautiful post and you should have a standing ovation for not only having the guts to do what you did but also the guts to reflect back on your whole situation and put it into such eloquent words. As far as co-dependence goes though, what a crock of crap. In most healthy relationships it isn't a one-way street with the wife feeling the way you describe. I'd certainly die without my wife and nobody is happy in my household until she is.
It sucks that your ex was a creep but you gotta thank God for him, otherwise you'd never had met dh. I have a creepy ex, not like yours though, who if I wouldnt have broken up with him I would never have met my dh now. I think that is osmething you could tel your kids though because they'll respect that their momma went through some tough shit and they'll respect you. That's how I feel with my mom, she kinda had the same deal goin on!
I'm glad you got that off your chest. I was there with you, but as funny as it sounds, none of us could tell you were unhappy. You did quite a job hiding it. I remeber when you came back from New Mexico and the two of us spent the evening emaling pictures to our new loves, then getting wasted and passing out on the floor of your apartment. Who would have ever thought we would be where we are now? Miss you...
Wow, beautifully written, had me in tears. (And wanting to drop kick that first guy across a few states.) So glad you found someone so wonderful because clearly, you deserved goodness. ;)
I agree with the first toni. It's good that you were able to leave your first husband. A lot of women never get that chance, fooling themselves that "It'll get better", but it doesn't. Kudos to you and your dh for finding each other.
I have one of *them* lurking in my past as well, didn't marry him but had a baby with him.. can't say DUMB because then my son wouldn't be here..so. He hated me because I wouldn't marry him - nasty, horrible man.
My hubby is my world and the direct opposite, he knew me back then when I went thru all that with the ex too.
Only difference is I physcially fought him back which wasn't good, just enraged him more... I could write a book ;)
I am speechless. It is hard for me to see the pain others went through because I think of myself as being a victim first, but it's nothing compared to what you just said. Hat's off to you, you deserve the greatest respect a man can ever give to a woman. And I am sure dh is the MAN. Hugs.