So here’s the truth for me.
I betrayed myself first. Well before he betrayed me. This last few weeks I have wallowed in my own disappointment about this, about creating the same thing again, about losing myself to someone so undeserving.
But it hasn’t served me to be disappointed or angry. I thought at first I was angry at him for being a totally disappointing narcissistic bastard, but really I was angry at me for being the kind of woman who could love another totally disappointing narcissistic bastard for so long, instead of wisely and bravely leaving at the first sign of narcissistic bastardom.
The truth? I betrayed myself long before he did. I betrayed myself by giving and giving and giving and not asking for what I needed. I betrayed myself by making OK all the things that were not OK because I was so scared that if I made a fuss he would leave me. He left me anyway. I didn’t prevent this happening, I just lost myself and my own power in the process of trying to make him happy. And as a result I became scared and unhappy. I compromised what I believed a family to be, I didn’t do all the things I loved with the people I loved and in the end I questioned my own sanity. In the end I thought I was crazy. And I am not that woman.
I have wasted so much time already being caught in this place where I want to be angry about his betrayal. But the person I most need to forgive is me.
I watched this a while ago. And then again last night. And this time I really got it.
I betrayed myself first. And when he stood before me and said I deserved better and my girls deserved better he WAS RIGHT. And I was so mad at him that I wanted to say (or most likely did say but can’t remember) “Fuck you, let me decide what we deserve and what’s going to make me happy!”. Really though (as much as it pains me to give that up) he was right. He was so right. And he was right that I wasn’t capable in that moment of making that choice for myself.
Thank you, for making that choice for me, I’m not lost anymore and you were right.
Here’s a post I wrote in the midst of it all, at the peak of my own ultimate betrayal. I entitled the email “The blog I couldn’t post” and instead of posting it I emailed it to him instead. The bravest way I thought I could have the conversation. He just said “you should have posted it”. He was right. I should have.
11 October 2013
My guy is not talking to me. Today is the second day but tonight will be the third night, and I’m more worried about the third night and the second day rolling out in front of me, than the two preceding. What if he never talks to me again? What if our house is forever this separate place where he does his thing and I do mine and neither of us feel like we belong here? What if he stops loving me and leaves?
I’m trying so hard not to panic, but I’m failing miserably, and when I panic I try to talk to him because then it might make sense and I might know what is going to happen next, but he really doesn’t want to talk and my heart gets more hurt with every time he doesn’t answer me or won’t look at me or sighs when I say something. And I panic more and then I can’t say what I need to, and it certainly doesn’t come out like I mean it to (based on his reaction), and there’s nothing I can do to change the situation.
We argued about my youngest daughter. We have very different styles of parenting. Some of which I believe is a man/woman thing but some also that he has very firm boundaries and I have a boundaries challenge. I have been working on that for a couple of years now, but it does come up and bite me in the ass every now and then. Like now.
See, I’m not sure that the boundary he has put in place for her is working. And by that I mean creating a change in her behaviour. I have tried to honour it, but to me it seems she spends a lot of time in her room, goes easily to hysterical (even when I am keeping out of it, and not hijacking the process). And because I think the boundary is too firm, I overcompensate, which pisses him off and creates this place of separation that right now seems insurmountable. And because I have a boundaries challenge I also know there are some boundaries with him I have to be clear about, and I question if I even know how to do that.
And because I’m the life coach I should know how to deal with this, but in it, I’m not a life coach, I’m a Mum who wants to best for her kids and can’t quite work out how that works as a strategy, who totally adores her guy to the point of panic, and who doesn’t know what to do. And fuck I hate that. The not knowing what to do. The knowing that whatever it is for him isn’t making sense to me, and there’s nothing I can do, say or be that will change that.
There is too much at stake for this not to work. My heart for starters. But then the hearts of 7 girls who I so want to be a strong, loving, inspiring example for. And I’m not sure about his heart (I’d like to be but I’m a bit scared to be sure), but like mine breaking your heart doesn’t feel good any amount of times. It’s more important to me to find a place, a space and/or someone to help us have the conversation about parenting (like say with a life coach who isn’t me and isn’t in our relationship) so we can get past this mountain, and get back to having the life we want. Which isn’t going to be perfect, and will have challenges, but does work. I know it works.
So I can’t do anything. Yesterday I decided to believe if I’m happy they’re happy. So I better find some happy and stop feeling responsible for making them happy. Making him happy especially. Right now he’s not happy, and although that feels all about me maybe it’s not. And maybe he can’t articulate that. And maybe I’m making it harder by trying to understand. And maybe……it’ll all be OK?
And now, 9 months since I wrote that, it is OK. And I owe it to myself to trust myself. And I do.