It’s been a long time since I have written. Life has been busy, and like the dutiful wife I am, I have been taking care of it. I try to go through each day and act like this strong, independent woman that, at the moment, I am pretending to be. I am not the person I thought I was. I am much weaker, much needier, and much more unable than I ever thought I really was. I always imagined that I would hold my ground and demand more respect than what I eventually did.
I met my husband when I was 17, almost 18. I sincerely knew when I met him that I was going to marry him. We talked all the time about being faithful to each other, loving each other, and if anything ever changed, telling each other. I trusted him. With all of my heart. If anything didn’t make sense, I overlooked it because there is no reason for me not to, he is my husband, my protector, the one that is supposed to forsake all others. Our vows were “to live together in (holy) matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
None of those.
It’s amazing how any gaps in knowledge get filled in with your new found knowledge when something like this happens. There were things in the past that felt not right, that made me wonder, that I always made ok. He insists that everything was ok and that this is the only time, but I don’t think that is fully true.
Side note: I finally saw my GYN and got fully tested. All clear, thank God. I don’t know how I would have moved past that.
I live almost every day teetering between “How could he?” and “How DARE he?” He was clearly ready to sacrifice his whole family to be with this girl. He called her his savior and a savior is saving you from something, which in this case obviously is his horrible, terrible, miserable wife. Who is clearly the worst.
For so many years, he took from me. He was borderline emotionally abusive, for so, so many years. and years. He took from me and took from me until I had nothing left to give any more. And at that time, apparently I was no longer enough for him and he needed someone, something new. He created this shell of a person who no longer had any value in myself and then when I was a beaten down corpse of what I once was, or could have been, he needed more. I wasn’t paying enough attention to him, I wasn’t telling him how wonderful he was, and shocker, I wasn’t having sex with him. So, he didn’t want to repair this person he had spent years demolishing, he just wanted to find a new girl who would be all the things he had drained from me.
All this time, I looked at it as my role in the family to take it. He was the only one who was working and when I was working, it wasn’t enough to really contribute much to the family. (I am a stay at home mom, which was mutually agreed upon) My role was to make his life easier. He was stressed, tired, cranky, mean, because work was over working him. Or so I thought. He yelled at me, he said mean things to me, and I took it. Because he was tired, he was overworked, he was just trying to support our family. This was my role. Make the dinner, take care of the kids, take the abuse, clean the home, wash the clothes, apologize for any imperfection, make life easy. He’s working long hours, make sure he has dinner and clean clothes and a punching bag. He’s going in to work early, let him fall asleep on the couch and make all the lunches on your own. Explain to the kids that the reason you haven’t seen dad in 3 days is because he goes in so early and his mean boss keeps him so late. Do all the things that make his life easier. That make his affair easier. If only I had known.
I feel cheated for so many reasons. I gave him the best years of my life. I truly believed in the promise he made when we said our vows. I had this image of what my marriage and my life would be at this point and this was not even close to what I yearned for. I kept hoping and holding on to the idea that one day, when all the chaos of having 3 kids settled down, we would come back together and be us again. There were, honestly, times that I hoped that he was cheating and I would find out, so I could kick him out, get child support and alimony, and live my damn life. But, when it came down to it all, I crumbled, like a stale, old cookie.
I don’t feel like I will ever feel loved. I feel like I have sacrificed my life to an existence of not being loved. My failures surround me, and remind me, of my worthlessness. I am no worthy of love or care or compassion. I will continue to sacrifice myself to the benefit of my family. I will lose out and do without, so that my loved ones will feel and be loved.
I feel like I am the only person like me in existence. I don’t think that anyone will ever love me in the same way that I love others. And all I want, more than anything in life, is to just feel like somebody loves me.
I think that is just one more thing I need to give up on in life.