Now, bear with me... and fuck - is it 'bear' or 'bare'? I know it's a homophone - I should just look it up but today fucking sux and I can't be arsed to do it.... so just deal with it Grammar Police. Ok.... 'bear' with me - because I know that *some* people have hard a time with that concept because of my sexuality and my attempt to live for sooooo long as a straight woman - certainly that was lying? Yes.... but the truth is - I was lying first and foremost to myself, so in spending 37 years forcing myself to believe in something doesn't make me a liar to the rest of the world, it makes me one of the millions and millions of people who don't think they wanted to "be gay" - AND.... for the record - it's also in large part due to a society that tells you that being gay is a "choice" - so I'm not really a 'liar' just because I chose to be straight.
That aside... the reality is that since I started this Blog, I haven't lied about anything. It's true to say that anyone's "truth" is strongly rooted in their perception of an event or conversation or situation and as such, other people might have a different perception/truth about things, but that doesn't negate anyone's 'truth'.
I have tried, with the exception of delaying coming out on The Blog, to be as brutally honest as possible, because I'm the kind of person who really doesn't know how to be anything else..... which is why it's been hard to blog lately because I can't come here and lie. I can't come here and say - 'everything is great.....', when it's not.
I read so many books...I tried so hard and the truth is that I *tried* because I looked back on the living room of ten years of marriage and, for the most, underneath cream walls of photos of happy kids and a 'happy family' - lay the proverbial rug which had dozens and dozens of lumps in every direction where I had been shoving things for a looooooong time.
That time I found pot in a old film canister in the sock drawer and was told "some guy pulled over on a street corner and handed it to me... what was I supposed to do?": swept under the carpet.
That time Christmas came and went and all I got was a Snoop Dogg CD in my stalking.... under the carpet.
That time we were leaving for the hospital to have our son and you were yelling me because I wasn't 'talking nice enough to you'.... under the carpet.
That time.... *all* those times... that I kept saying if you didn't go to counseling and *we* didn't go to counseling that our marriage would end in divorce..... under the carpet. No appointments made.
That time that your stepmother waited until *after* your Mother's Grandfather died after your Aunt called them to relay the message to us to get the hospital to 'say goodbye'.... she waited 6 hours to call us and we didn't make it to the hospital and because of that your mother's *entire* family thought we didn't care enough to go say goodbye and never forgave us..... and so I called The StepMother and informed her that she was, indeed, "a cunt of a rare kind" and that she was also an "adulterer - and since I hold my friends to a higher standard - we would never be friends.......". .... that too... went under the carpet.
We would have a argument.... and then we would make up and sweep everyone's discretion's under the carpet and not talk about them again.... mine, his.... everyone's. I knew it was wrong at the time - that eventually we'd be tripping over those 'lumps in the carpet' - but I always assumed that after 7, 8, 9 ... 10 years - that we were in it for the long haul and that we had *time* to work things out and move on.
Everyone does it - and we had some *big* things under the carpet and some small things... but overall - we were *happy*... fuck, may be we weren't.... it was news to me and our friends and our family... but clearly *we* were not happy... because suddenly I was tripping over a 22 year old under my carpet.
I can own that. I can, in spite of what some people think, look back at ten years of sweeping and own my part and because I was wiling to do that.... and I thought that in this whole divorce process that I would DO IT RIGHT.
I would read books and get advice... *good* advice - from people who paid lots of money and went to school and got degree's..... that I would follow their advice, no matter *how* hard, no matter how much shit I got from other people....I would take the high road and make different choices.
Now..... is Ugly Baby Teeth - *Really* taking the high road.......?
Probably not.
However, for fucks sake.... if the *worst* thing I *ever* did to the woman who had SEX WITH MY HUSBAND while he was *still* my husband - was call her "ugly baby teeth".... well.... fuck, I think that makes me a pretty nice person. I could be wrong.... feel free to correct me.
I *meant* what I said when I wrote the family letter and made the binder......
I *wanted* soooo badly for everyone to be adults and stand together on the sidelines of a soccer game, all wearing our big-girl panties and happy smiles - cheering on the success's of *our* children.
I was *willing* to share the role and the moniker of 'mom' with someone who stole SO MUCH OF WHAT I FUCKING WAS.... because it was going to be what was best for my children.
Everyone who *knows* me knows that I don't just say I'm going to do something.... if I've done it - then I meant it. I don't fuck around... I don't lie. If I said we can all move on... then I can,
Notice the *I*?
I haven't blogged in weeks because I'm fucking pissed.
There I said it.
I'm fucking pissed that I read the books and *Said* and *DID* all the "right" things......
I walked away from money....
I walked away from my home.....
I lost everything.... and, for the most part.... I did it with a smile and with hope in my heart that in doing it all the "right way" - that it would pay off for the kids - that where I had failed them as a Mother, where *we* had failed them as parents - that *WE* could all come together in the end and BE A FUCKING FAMILY.
Two happy homes from one broken one.
I was wrong.
I protected her and I protected him.... I kept the dirty little secret that they worked together.... so they wouldn't get fired.
I protected her name so that while *I* would forever go down in flame as the fat-ass whose husband left her for a 22 year old because she was so ugly and bitter and 'vengeful' that she then "plotted an online campaign" to blah blah blah blah..... SHE would be safely away from it all. Her identity - her collective 'dignity' in tact (assuming she has any.....) - and SHE: Ugly Baby Teeth, Yoga Girl.... La Novia - would be safe. I did that because I felt it was the right thing to do..... now, I'm not so fucking sure.
The Boy say's that life at Daddy's house is "hard" .... that Daddy screams at them, and uses foul language and isn't "nice to them"...... La Novia doesn't spend any time the kids.
At. All.
She's usually "at work" - no matter what day of the week or the time of day.... back when this started, they went to the Zoo one time - and haven't done a damn thing since. There are no more craft or coloring projects.... they go there, spend time with their Dad and come back.
That's not a family.
When I was told that he wouldn't be seeing the kids over Thanksgiving - because of work schedule issue's, I suggested we *all* have a family dinner together..... and was told no.
He thought it might be "awkward......."
No shit.... huh? IT's *always* going to be awkward if that's your attitude.
And someone for the love of FUCK - PLEASE tell me *how* this is awkward for anyone......?
I have protected you.
I have been KIND to BOTH OF YOU.
I have NOT called people names.
I have NOT threatened anyone.
I didn't burn anyones stuff.... I didn't lose my shit and go crazy.
SERIOUSLY. DOES NO ONE WATCH TV?????????
Does no one watch Jerry Springer........? I think -overall - I have extended a shit ton of kindness and fucking *forgiveness* to people who DID NOT DESERVE IT and I did it for 'realsies' - because THAT IS WHO I AM.
Anyone who *knows* me, knows that I don't do things half way.
I *welcomed* someone into MY FAMILY after they fucked their way into it.... and I'm not good enough to have dinner with? Because THAT - the whole EATING AT THE SAME TABLE thing is awkward......?
Yeah... well, smelling your sweet snatch on his cock was awkward... but look at me all getting over that and shit.
Yet...... You can't get over yourself enough to have dinner?
Really?
I could and I *DID* because I believed it was what was best for my children.... but it's becoming painfully clear to me that the *only* person who is concerned with a) the children and b) having some kind of positive relationship modeled for them is ME.
The Boy's behavior has been suffering.... a lot. The light that used to light his eyes has been dimming - and replaced with him telling me "I just gave that car the finger for going too slow like Daddy does......". Or, screaming at this sister who accidentally broke a toy..... "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!?!"
Daddy refers to everything in his house as ... 'his' - not ours.... this is "his house" - he tells them.... which means that it's not "their" house... they are just guests. The Boy told me that.
And 18 months on... it's clear that in spite of all my efforts to the contrary - the children are merely guests in a home that doesn't actually want them to be *a part* of anything.... some people are *stupid* enough to think that this kind of thing doesn't matter to kids... but it does. It really does.
I've been begging The Boy to behave and changing house rules and talking and talking.... and reading and trying... but it seems like everyday the light get a little bit dimmer.... and I fear, that's it's going to go out altogether.
Recently, there's this charming little brat at The Boy's school who delights in being mean to him, recently she cut in front of him in line and said, "I don't like you because I hate your face."
I asked The Boy what he did, and he said he just shrugged his shoulders and walked away and said nothing. I praised him on his ability to walk away from a negative situation and we went and talked to his teacher (who is nothing short of amazing.....) - and she also praised him for 'doing the right thing and walking away' - and that she would address that situation.
This weekend, after spending the night at their Dad's - The Boy came home and told me that his DAD told him that the next time someone tells him that they "hate his face", that THE BOY should say right back to that person..... "Well, I hate your face."
Super fucking awesome shitty advice.
Rad.
After months of dodging me..... being 'in the bathroom' or 'at work' - and never having to actually be in the same room as me..... we were heading home last night and The Boy *really* wanted to call his Dad and tell him about his "last shift" at the Spirit store. I let him call and he asked his Dad if we could stop by.
Which we did.
And then we stood.... out in the cold..... in the soft drizzle of rain..... we stood. outFUCKINGside.
While La Novia sat inside.
After everything..... I stood outside. unwelcome. I get it..... it wasn't pre-planned, and it's unfair to think we should be asked inside... but then, why not come outside?
I'm tired.
I'm tired of trying and failing.
I'm tired of other people's lies and bullshit.
I'm tired of believing that I could do this.... that I could offer up enough forgiveness and kindness and that *that* would be what could help bind together this new family that I'll be *Really* honest.... I want NO FUCKING PART of.
No fucking part at all.
I just wanted my kids to be happy and whole..... that's all.
But.... they're not and every passing day I wonder if that's ever going to happen.
and I'm not..... I'll never be whole again, especially while the kids are hurting.
So today I'm going to take the advice of someone I listened to and loved and worked soooo hard to build a family *with*.... and I'm going to put down the books and olive branches and I'm just gonna say it:
I fucking hate your face.
If you mistakenly thought *anything* was awkward before.... well.... good luck with that.