Learning to Stand Tall Enough - LJ Idol Season 9, Week 4
At first, everything was wonderful. He made me feel special when he made love to me, when he introduced me to his 3 year old son, when he introduced me to his friends. He convinced me that I was beautiful. I believe me when he told me that he loved me. After all, he wouldn't say it if it weren't true, right?
I should have known the truth from the beginning, though. The fact that he was still living with his ex, the mother of his son, should have been a clue. I let the words, "I'm only doing it to give my son a stable home" convince me that there was nothing unusual about the two of them sharing a one bedroom trailer. I should have known, being a part of the swinger culture, that the woman who told me he'd been screwing her while I was at work was telling the truth instead of being convinced that she was a jealous bitch. I should have seen that he wanted to change me when he told me that if he'd known the numbers on my scale before he'd met me, he never would have been interested. But I let myself be blinded by these things.
I should have opened my eyes when, while I was away at college, seeing him was only on his time table. The one time I tried to surprise him with a visit ended in a huge fight and, eventually, a gun pointed in my face when I wouldn't leave. Yet, I still was convinced that he loved me as I begged him to come back to me. My proof was the fact that he came back. Each fight we had over the years, each time I begged him to come back, and each time he did convinced me that, even though he didn't know how to show it well, he still loved me. Because, deep down inside, I was convinced that he was the one I deserved.
I still remember the day he told me he was marrying his ex. It was right after (another) fight we'd gotten into, the cause something lost to history. He called me and told me that he and his ex would be getting married in three weeks. I sobbed, begging him not to. But it didn't matter to him. He still married her, even as he stayed in my life, saying we'd be "friends", but still fucking me whenever he'd come by. I allowed myself to become "that woman", as he told me that it was a marriage in name only, "for my son." The unspoken message was that I was good enough to take to bed but not good enough to be a mother to his child.
I stayed with him for seven more years after he got married. I debased myself to keep him, allowing him to treat me like dirt. I made myself ready for him to have sexually, whenever he wanted but never when I did. I believe him when he told me that what I brought to our relationship and a quarter wouldn't buy a cup of coffee. I let my self worth lower until, no matter how my friends tried to convince me otherwise, I knew that he was the one I deserved in life.
I finally started to change after my suicide attempt. After a night of drinking and breaking up, I took a knife into the shower, called my best friend to say good-bye, and tried to cut my wrists. The best thing that could have happened was her calling the cops and them showing up. I hadn't cut deeply, but they asked if I wanted to talk to someone. With my quiet, "Yes", I was hospitalized for the weekend. The hospitalization didn't really help (being over the weekend I had no actual therapy and they released me on Monday), but the therapist I saw afterward did. Rather than tell me that I was hurting myself by seeing this man who was obviously using me, she didn't comment on the relationship. But she did start to help me see my own self worth.
Over the next year, I started to stand up for myself. I started asking when he would divorce his wife, as he'd been saying would one day happen. I countered his claim that I was asking him to choose between me and his son with the fact that I wasn't asking him to get rid of his son, just the supposed sham marriage. After one break up, I moved back in with my parents to put physical distance between us, hoping that out of sight would mean out of mind. (It didn't - he would drive to see me and we'd get a hotel room for a few hours. I wasn't quite ready to let go yet.)
Seven and a half years after we'd met, I was finally able to stand tall enough to keep him from walking on me any longer. It was about two months since I'd last heard from him and he called to tell me he had news. "I'm going to make your biggest dream come true." At first, I didn't want to meet him. It was New Year's Eve and I was afraid that I'd fall back into the pattern of being with him. But I couldn't be as strong as I needed to be because I agreed to meet him over my lunch break two days later. He picked me up from work and drove to a secluded area. There, he showed me the divorce papers - not yet signed, but the biggest sign of his commitment to leave his wife to date. And he showed me an engagement ring. "I want to give you what you've always wanted," he told me. And as I sat there, I realized that I didn't want it any more. Or rather, I still wanted it - I loved him and that hadn't changed. But I knew it wouldn't be what was best for me.
"I can't trust you," I told him. "I want to, but I can't trust that you won't do the same thing to me that you did to her. I still love you, and I always will, but no, I won't marry you." He wanted to put the engagement ring on my finger anyway, "just to see how it looks." I'm sure that when I let him, he was convinced that it would change my mind. But after looking at it for a minute, I silently slipped it back off and handed it to him. "I need to go back to work now," I told him.
I managed to keep the tears from my eyes until I walked into the door of my office. Then I sobbed, both for the loss of a dream and the past gone. But I knew that I was doing the right thing for me. I knew I was finally standing tall, keeping my back straight and not letting myself be abused any longer. I had a long way to go to feel worthy of myself, but I'd taken the first steps.
"There is No Arizona" by Jamie O'Neal is the one song that describes my time with him. It took me a long time to realize that Arizona was a myth, but I did. And now, 13 years later, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
I should have known the truth from the beginning, though. The fact that he was still living with his ex, the mother of his son, should have been a clue. I let the words, "I'm only doing it to give my son a stable home" convince me that there was nothing unusual about the two of them sharing a one bedroom trailer. I should have known, being a part of the swinger culture, that the woman who told me he'd been screwing her while I was at work was telling the truth instead of being convinced that she was a jealous bitch. I should have seen that he wanted to change me when he told me that if he'd known the numbers on my scale before he'd met me, he never would have been interested. But I let myself be blinded by these things.
I should have opened my eyes when, while I was away at college, seeing him was only on his time table. The one time I tried to surprise him with a visit ended in a huge fight and, eventually, a gun pointed in my face when I wouldn't leave. Yet, I still was convinced that he loved me as I begged him to come back to me. My proof was the fact that he came back. Each fight we had over the years, each time I begged him to come back, and each time he did convinced me that, even though he didn't know how to show it well, he still loved me. Because, deep down inside, I was convinced that he was the one I deserved.
I still remember the day he told me he was marrying his ex. It was right after (another) fight we'd gotten into, the cause something lost to history. He called me and told me that he and his ex would be getting married in three weeks. I sobbed, begging him not to. But it didn't matter to him. He still married her, even as he stayed in my life, saying we'd be "friends", but still fucking me whenever he'd come by. I allowed myself to become "that woman", as he told me that it was a marriage in name only, "for my son." The unspoken message was that I was good enough to take to bed but not good enough to be a mother to his child.
I stayed with him for seven more years after he got married. I debased myself to keep him, allowing him to treat me like dirt. I made myself ready for him to have sexually, whenever he wanted but never when I did. I believe him when he told me that what I brought to our relationship and a quarter wouldn't buy a cup of coffee. I let my self worth lower until, no matter how my friends tried to convince me otherwise, I knew that he was the one I deserved in life.
I finally started to change after my suicide attempt. After a night of drinking and breaking up, I took a knife into the shower, called my best friend to say good-bye, and tried to cut my wrists. The best thing that could have happened was her calling the cops and them showing up. I hadn't cut deeply, but they asked if I wanted to talk to someone. With my quiet, "Yes", I was hospitalized for the weekend. The hospitalization didn't really help (being over the weekend I had no actual therapy and they released me on Monday), but the therapist I saw afterward did. Rather than tell me that I was hurting myself by seeing this man who was obviously using me, she didn't comment on the relationship. But she did start to help me see my own self worth.
Over the next year, I started to stand up for myself. I started asking when he would divorce his wife, as he'd been saying would one day happen. I countered his claim that I was asking him to choose between me and his son with the fact that I wasn't asking him to get rid of his son, just the supposed sham marriage. After one break up, I moved back in with my parents to put physical distance between us, hoping that out of sight would mean out of mind. (It didn't - he would drive to see me and we'd get a hotel room for a few hours. I wasn't quite ready to let go yet.)
Seven and a half years after we'd met, I was finally able to stand tall enough to keep him from walking on me any longer. It was about two months since I'd last heard from him and he called to tell me he had news. "I'm going to make your biggest dream come true." At first, I didn't want to meet him. It was New Year's Eve and I was afraid that I'd fall back into the pattern of being with him. But I couldn't be as strong as I needed to be because I agreed to meet him over my lunch break two days later. He picked me up from work and drove to a secluded area. There, he showed me the divorce papers - not yet signed, but the biggest sign of his commitment to leave his wife to date. And he showed me an engagement ring. "I want to give you what you've always wanted," he told me. And as I sat there, I realized that I didn't want it any more. Or rather, I still wanted it - I loved him and that hadn't changed. But I knew it wouldn't be what was best for me.
"I can't trust you," I told him. "I want to, but I can't trust that you won't do the same thing to me that you did to her. I still love you, and I always will, but no, I won't marry you." He wanted to put the engagement ring on my finger anyway, "just to see how it looks." I'm sure that when I let him, he was convinced that it would change my mind. But after looking at it for a minute, I silently slipped it back off and handed it to him. "I need to go back to work now," I told him.
I managed to keep the tears from my eyes until I walked into the door of my office. Then I sobbed, both for the loss of a dream and the past gone. But I knew that I was doing the right thing for me. I knew I was finally standing tall, keeping my back straight and not letting myself be abused any longer. I had a long way to go to feel worthy of myself, but I'd taken the first steps.
Click to view"There is No Arizona" by Jamie O'Neal is the one song that describes my time with him. It took me a long time to realize that Arizona was a myth, but I did. And now, 13 years later, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.