The Stoopidest Man I Ever Divorced: Part ...What... Four?

Okay, so I've sort of been telling this story out of order, but that is kind of fitting considering my whole relationship with RB was never in the right order.

We seemed to move in together before we ever really dated. We broke up before I even knew we had conceived. We hired attorneys and "divorced" before LD was even born. Then, when I was finally over him and ready to get on with my life ... we got married. Eight years after the relationship ended we again hired attorneys and spent a ridiculous amount of money ending our actual marriage. And now, when we should be raising our son and exhibiting some sort of amicability (the kind that comes with time) we haven't spoken in over three years.

Is that fucked up or what?

I'd like to take responsibility for my part in it, but you know what? Since about 2001 none of this has been my fault at all. RB's hatred of me has grown with each passing year and, in my absence, he has chosen to take it out on LD.

But I digress....

Let's go back to the marriage part for a minute.

It was 1993 and LD was 6 months old. RB had demanded to meet LD and at the very moment he did his conscience burst through and he began to apologise. I mean, immediately upon laying eyes on LD for the first time. What followed was daily visits and daily apologies and pleas for my forgiveness and fro the opportunity to make it up to us.

What can I say? I cannot lie and say I fell in love with him all over again. The truth of the matter is that I was scared and I felt guilty. I had no idea how I was going to provide for my son - considering my lack of higher education and the cost of daycare. I also felt like a total failure as a mother for not providing a two-parent home for my child - especially when the other parent was
begging for it.

So, I gave in. I took what appeared to be the easy way. I told myself that love took many different forms and that as the father of my child I would certainly learn to love RB. The bitter part of me also felt that to marry RB was to somehow hold him just as accountable as I was. And Yes, there was a part of me that wanted to keep the "enemy" close and to protect LD from being shuffled between two households.

So, one Tuesday afternoon we went to a Justice of the Peace and laughed and rolled our eyes through a speed ceremony then went home and did laundry. So much for a romantic ceremony.

It was bad from the very beginning. I still held so much anger and RB was still so selfishly immature. I have no idea how we made it through that first year. I especially have no idea how RB tolerated it b/c while he was merely a self-absorbed dumb ass trying to be a husband; I was an absolute bitch to him the whole time. I remember one particular exchange during the first few months where I actually said, "You don't get it do you? I HATE you." And what is really really sad is that I meant it.

I did hate him for the pain he had caused me. I hated him for denying his son for so many months. I hated him for all the lies he told about me. I hated him for all the embarrassment I suffered and for the shrew I had become. I also hated him for all the women he slept with while I was pregnant and he was labeling me a slut. Hell, I hated him more each time I discovered another woman he was continuing to date - even after our marriage.

Eventually all the hate wore me down, and I think that for a while he even stopped all the other relationships on the side. I began to try to be a good (and loving) wife. I did all my wifely duties; kept a beautiful home, had dinner on the table every night, supported all of his endeavors towards a career and generally became a couple with him.

I told myself I was "happy enough."

And I wasn't miserable. We had good times. We laughed. We had a few friends and our home was always one filled with friends and family. I did all kinds of part-time and consulting work to supplement our income. People even used to commend us for having made it through such bad times and for straying together. I guess from outward appearances we looked like a happy little family.To both our credits, I think for a while we both were really trying.

I loved being home with LD and being a mom. I would even say I loved being a wife.

But what I was losing more and more each day was myself. I no longer indulged any of my passions - many due to lack of finances. I gave up my dream of going to law school - or even ever finishing school. I gave up my dream of more children; of travel; of a career. I gave up on ever feeling fulfilled or protected and settled for the semblance of security I had being married to RB.

And then, after 8 years things got bad again.

I came across a journal of RB's - he was always journaling - and read several hate filled pages about what a "spoiled rotten princess" he thought I was. His writing expressed rage towards me that I did not understand. As I read that journal I thought of all the dreams I had given up; of how we barely made enough money to scrape by; of how I was living life at the lowest standard I had ever lived and I thought, "I am spoiled? I don't even have a car? I don't even have health insurance!"

So, yeah, I got mad. I confronted RB that night and from that point on it was like his rage was unleashed. It was his turn to hate me.

Coincidentally, I learned he was also in a rapidly developing romantic relationship with a co-worker; a fact I found out only a few weeks later.

So, we spent an increasingly frightening and angry few months sorting it all out before I finally said, "No more." For both our sakes - but mostly for mine and LD's - we needed to split.

You see, for all those years i thought I was teaching (by example) a valuable lesson to LD. I thought I was teaching him about commitment and responsibility and perseverance. I thought he was learning that even good marriages have tough times, but that it was important to never give up.

But then I asked myself, "Do I want LD to be married because of obligation? Do I want him to feel as if love is not a choice or that commitment must involve great sacrifice?"

Hell no! I wanted him to believe in love and to know that people stayed together because they wanted to stay together; not because they had to. I wanted him to know the kind of love where the best part of your day is with that person; not before they come home. Love should make you strive to be a better person; not just a "good enough" one.

I couldn't teach him all the things I wanted him to believe if I wasn't a living example of the virtues I extolled!

So, I told RB I wanted a divorce, and that is when he truly started to hate me.

I had no job, no money, no car and no self-esteem.

And a soon-to-be ex husband who hated me.

I was terrified.