For me, the sun used to rise and set on what he wanted, what would make him happy, what I could do to manage his bad moods so we could just have a good day…
I did a lot. For day after day after week after month after decade. He’ll never acknowledge it, and that’s okay because, now *I* do.
He did so many things too! But I thanked him for them. I bragged to other people about them. Honestly and often, the same way I wanted to be treated. (Golden rule and all)
I felt like someone was shooting bullets at my feet, keeping me hopping, and never quite satisfied- the more I accomplished, the more he seemed to resent me. The more I met his demands, the more he pouted, despised me, rolled his eyes at me, refused to talk to me. The more I wished to earn my hand to be held or an arm around my waist or a kiss for no reason or even to hear that I was doing a good job, the more he seemed to resolve to punish me. He doted on birds that nested in our yard, but he would never even give me a hug. Even when I cried and told him I wanted hugs. I deserved love. I worked very hard to earn it.
I’ll never understand why he possessed me but didn’t love me, and it used to bother me. But I think I can honestly say, I don’t care anymore. To be free of that chaos, is exhilarating.
I have these little moments lately, where I realize the burden lifted - something as simple as driving home from exercise class and seeing my hands on the steering wheel and smiling at the metaphor of being behind the wheel of my own life - and so thankful for the simplicity of it. The future is uncertain and i relinquished most everything in the split, but i know I’ll figure it out. I always have. And I always will. I like knowing that about me.
If I was ever unsure of my decision to leave, nearly every day since then has reinforced it. That sounds cold, I know, but it has broken me. It’s hard to be on the other side and realize how all those little feelings deep down were true. The feelings of rejection and discord that I squashed down and explained away and kept quiet, while celebrating and shouting from the rooftops every simple thing I loved about him.
And I meant it. I found every good thing he possessed and held it up to the light and loudly told anyone who would listen what was so magical and wonderful and special about him. I meant every word and still do.
But he regularly made me feel bad about myself. He projected so many things onto me and I wanted to disagree but after a few times of pushing back, I stopped because I can’t do the explosive screaming matches… it reminds me too much of things that I experienced growing up, and was so steadfast I wouldn’t allow in my house when I was a grown up.
One day, I just couldn’t squash it down anymore. I decided it was best to leave. So I did. And here we are.
Tonight, I tried to talk to him about things that involve us both. I am still hopeful and committed to working together for our family and still making good memories and progress together. He said a lot of things that would have made me feel bad before. But - it didn’t work this time. I would have apologized even when I wasn’t sure what I did wrong, but I would do it, and mean it, so he could be happier. He’s isn’t ever happier. I still hope he finds his happiness - that I couldn’t provide.
Listening to him tonight and realizing all the things that would have triggered me before made me proud of me and my progress. I have done so much work! So much therapy, so much reading, so much honesty with all of my shortcomings and failures. So much owning “I fuck up and am not perfect and I still deserve happiness”.
I still feel good and I am still happy and I still believe I’m worth a helluva lot. It didn’t fold me in on myself. It didn’t make me try to bend into the impossible shape that he requires. It only made me reflect and realize how far I have come, how literally every other place in my life is happy and full, how supportive all of my friends and family and loved ones are, how I don’t feel isolated anymore and how now, the people in my life encourage and assist me instead of criticizing or making me feel never good enough. No other place in my life makes me feel bad the way he consistently does.
Tonight while talking, he did his usual dismissive tone and said “that’s why I divorced you” and I replied
I left intact, thinking, “I’m so glad we aren’t married anymore”. I think that may come across as catty or spiteful, but it was moreso a feeling of peace and contentment. A feeling I wasn’t sure I’d ever achieve in the aftermath. I smiled the whole way home.
Not to be mean or heartless, but to be honest and transparent that, I’ve given every ounce of myself to this for long enough, and now that I am free of those bullets at my feet, I am happier and healthier than I have been in a very long time.
The diaper is a metaphor. It’s my liberation. I’m debased and I’m still okay and I will shove my diapered ass in your face every damn day on tumblr for as long as it makes me feel good. Tell everyone. I’ll still keep going.
Now, I’ll take every opportunity to be transparent and honest. I think a healthy part of my healing, is to say so so so many things I’ve never said before. One by one, as I can process it. That’s what this blog started out to be, and now with so many eyes pointed to it, a place to finish telling my story. Every ugly and wonderful bit of it. 😉
