Once upon a time, I had a “what-was-I-thinking?” relationship. I cringe now at how many red flags I ignored, the dysfunction I danced around, the denial I embraced, all with the failed hope that it would get better…someday.
But it wasn’t always that way. Of course it wasn’t, or I would never have been with him in the first place. At first, we had fun. I laughed a lot when I was with him, and I looked forward to seeing him. It’s hard for me to superimpose Crazy Him on top of Normal Him, because they were so different to me. It was hard for me to let go of Normal Him, because I loved him, and I wanted him back.
Sometimes I need to remind myself that at one time, that is how my husband must have felt. At one time, he must have liked being with Psycho (his ex and my stalker), must have even had fun with her. It’s hard to imagine now. Actually, it’s downright impossible, but once, she either wasn’t like she is now, wasn’t as bad, or was putting on a good act. Who knows?
I don’t believe for one second that it’s just coincidence that both my husband and I had the worst relationships of our lives right before the happiest relationship of our lives. After putting up with the drama and stupidity and insanity of a selfish and toxic parasite, we were both ready for a real friend, stability, someone we could trust. We had both lost any tolerance for histrionic bitches of either gender. We both slammed the cellar door on the slobbering beast we had left and were ready to step into sunlight, happiness, laughter.
I didn’t want someone who was anything like the man-child I had just left, and my husband didn’t want anyone like his ex. (Luckily for him, I don’t have much penchant for lying, stealing, committing felonies, abusing kids, relying on Daddy to pay my bills, penning fake suicide notes, baying at the moon, etc.)
A lot of people just stay in septic relationships. I’m glad we didn’t. I’m glad both of us escaped those foul cages, those infected traps. I’m glad both of us never gave up on the idea that something better was possible. And I’m glad we eventually found each other.
We moved on, and we are happier. One more thing we have in common is that our exes have not. They both wallow in their own dysfunction. They learn nothing. They don’t improve or grow. They fester and rot, rooted in their own waste, trying their damnedest to drag everyone down with them. Not surprisingly, both of them are miserable creatures who offer nothing but stress, unhappiness, and disgust to those around them.
It is what they choose. It’s not what I would ever choose, but to each their own. I am happy that my husband and I disentangled ourselves from noxious people and freed ourselves to find each other. I’m happy that our paths crossed so that we could finally discover what a truly loving relationship feels like. I’m proud that we can offer an example of a healthy relationship to the kids, who desperately need to see that relationships don’t need to involve screaming, fighting, threatening to leave, name-calling, or non-stop drama.
I only wish we had found each other sooner, but maybe walking through fire first just helps us to appreciate and value and adore each other even more. So if I have anything at all to say to my ex, I would say thank you for clearly showing me what I don’t want.
And to my husband’s ex, I would say thank you for showing me what I never want to be.
When something is wrong, when something is just insanely, disturbingly wrong, why is it so much easier for some people to pretend it isn’t happening? How can so many people take comfort in soothing lies they tell themselves, all the while letting the craziness go on and on and on?
Sweat & Sparkle 