|“Til you do right by me….”|
This will be the last post about this particular situation. I won’t be giving any more of my time or energy to
assholes people who don’t deserve it. I just thought this bit of info might be helpful to someone.
So…after the horrible, yet freeing weekend drama, I decided that I needed to do something to separate the old me from the new me. See, the thing is, abusers tell you things about yourself. Terrible things. And when you hear something about yourself for so long, you start to believe it. And so, I figured I should perform some sort of action to physically manifest my liberation.
I decided I would write down every bad, negative or awful thing my ex had ever said about me or accused me of, and then, (since I was at work at the time), I would rip up the list into tiny pieces and flush it down the industrial-strength office toilet, since that’s exactly where his bullshit opinions belong. Rather clever and poetic of me, I thought. And then, something amazing happened…
As I pondered the things I would list, I realized they were all lies. Every last insult, adjective, accusation…all complete lies. And he’s been telling them so long, he’s convinced himself and everyone around him, I’m sure, that they’re true. Worse than that, for many years, I believed them too. He’s been telling anyone who would listen the same tired, lame, made-up shit forever. And of all the people who should have given him the side-eye and welcomed him to have several seats, I should have been the one to realize he’s a coward and an idiot who should not be paid attention to. And I’m not just saying that out of anger. This is a man who, in over 20 years of knowing me, has yet to correctly pronounce my first name. And he’s supposed to know something about me?
And that’s when I knew. I had nothing to list, because none of it was true. I didn’t need to do a cleansing ritual to separate myself from a bunch of meaningless opinions of someone who means less than nothing to me. If someone I didn’t know walked up to me and swore my eyes were blue, I wouldn’t waste time arguing with them, since my eyes are clearly brown. And so it is with my character, my intelligence, my life. This is a person who never, ever knew me. I never let him know me. I didn’t trust him enough to show him the real me. As a matter of fact, it was one of his biggest complaints.
I’ve been told that I am fearfully and wonderfully made by far better human beings than my ex-husband. And that is what I choose to believe. And so, no ritual needed. I’m good. Better than good. I’m loved. I’m me. And I’m pretty damned dope, if I do say so myself. And I do…