Life and Marriage- Do I stay or Do I leave/

Who is this person, Me?

Growing up, all I EVER wanted to be was a mom. Sure, Teacher, Nurse, Private Investigator, fell in there as was usual for my age group, but the bottom line. Mom.

I always imagined myself in a station wagon, driving my kids to school, picking them up after school, and on my feet were fuzzy slippers. Funny thing about this image, my mother NEVER drove us to school, it was riding the bus, and if you were running late and missed it, she – was – pissed. And a pissed mom was something that was NOT GOOD.

I read a lot growing up, still try to busyness keeps that from happening, because of that, I believe, I am a dramatic person. BIG TIME. So, along with imagining myself in fuzzy slippers, driving my many children  to school,  ( I wanted five) I imagined a very troubled, even violent, life. Hard, Danielle Steel, book difficult life. You know, when I lead a troubled life and finally at the end, my knight in shining armor saves me.

So, when I became a mom, I was determined to be the best mom ever. We lost our first, stillborn, fully mature, perfect looking son; only, he didn’t draw one breath outside my womb. So, in addition to the intense desire to be the perfect parent, I was paranoid. If God was going to take my first child, what would keep him from me developing a closer bond with my second child, and then taking her?

I lived my life this way, for many years. It’s not such a good thing when you are married to a person who must have full attention, always, even if he/she that person is a completely, grown, adult.

Even speaking with the current therapist, counselors, psychologist, and psychiatrist; you will be told, MAKE TIME FOR YOURSELVES AS COUPLES. Children grow, move, get married and start families of their own.

I was different; my H loves me, understands me, he would NEVER cheat on me, again: HE WOULD NEVER CHEAT ON ME. He brags about me, how beautiful I am, what a good woman I am, I put up with this, I put up with that…. blah blah blah, yada yada yada, read every single other blog about being betrayed, and you will read:
“Who me, betrayed. Who him a Wanderer? NEVER!”

My H began to drink (more) I began to hate (more) I began to spend every single moment, self-righteously with my children; after all, if he were a good dad, he would too. Thus, self-righteous.

Of course, what else would happen? A desperate, lonely, few times married, or insecure, single woman, she is going to recognize an “ignored, lonely, married to a cold-hearted woman and in a sexless marriage” man. None of which is true. I mean, sure, we married folk have life that interrupts crazy, out of control, over the top sex. But, given the chance, we can give it. Given the effing chance.


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