Monster metamour musings

Today, there was a post about metamours on a local Facebook polyamory group I’m a member of.  I saw the post in the morning and spent all day thinking about metamours. I have had a pretty wide range of metamours, when I think about it.  X’s girlfriend knew about me, but we’ve never interacted, because we lived in different cities. Fun fact: I’ve actually not seen him in person in 14 years.  B’s wife knew about me, but didn’t want to hear about me. She was very much “don’t ask, don’t tell” in her philosophy.  I suspect that a lot of this had to do with her unhappiness in their marriage, which ended in January this year. Then there was W.  She embodies everything that makes a metamour a nightmare. She was manipulative, insulting, passive aggressive, and outright lied.  She interfered in my relationship with F and she interfered in my relationship with other people.  She continues to get involved in our divorce and my kids keep coming home asking me questions about things she says to them.  I keep hearing the horrible things she is saying about me to friends.  She is a perfect example of what I never want to be as a metamour.  

Then there was D’s wife. She exemplifies everything I ever want to be as a metamour.  She welcomed me into her life before I even started dating D.  It was nothing for us to hang out before D came home from a date or for us to go for dinner together with her boyfriend or to go for brunch just the three of us.  She is the woman who gave up her spot in the bed so D and I could spend the night together, spontaneously, when I crashed a gathering they were at.  She is the woman who heard from someone else that I had said something that she wasn’t OK with, so she came directly to me with her concerns.  She is the model of metamour that I follow.  No judgement, no drama, great communication, support, and acceptance.  

A’s wife is very good friends with D’s wife.  I have no doubt they talk about me and that D’s wife plays a role in A’s wife’s acceptance of me in his life.  I have only really met her the once, the same night that D’s wife gave me her spot in the bed. At that time, my relationship with A wasn’t really a relationship yet, and it was new.  We’re 9 months in now, and I haven’t seen her since.  We’ve had a few texts back and forth, but our relationship exists mostly in likes and the occasional comment on Facebook.  I’m sure she knows a lot about me, filtered through A, like I know a lot about her, all filtered through A.  I find it hard sometimes that I don’t have more of a friendship with her.  I really appreciate having my own relationship with my metamours.  I have a natural tendency to think the worst.  So when A has to cancel or limits our time together, my initial reaction is always to blame her.  I always talk myself out of such ridiculousness, because I don’t really know her, so I don’t really know what’s going on in her life, and blaming without understanding of facts is stupid.  The fact is, even if she was dictating everything, it doesn’t matter.  This is where I think that many people would tell me I was in a hierarchical relationship. Perhaps I am and I’m delusional.  The reality is, A is madly in love with his wife. They have 20+ years of history together, some of it wonderful, some of it heartbreaking, but they are each other’s best friends.  They have a family together, they have their routines, and they have their life.  I’m not part of their life.  I’m part of HIS life.  He told me, in that brief period of time we were friends between our first date and our first fuck, that if she ever said she had a problem with his girlfriend, he would end the relationship.  That stuck with me, and while I know he would miss me, I also know where I place in his life, and I know that I’m not as important in his life as he is in mine.

Because of this, I am the metamour I am for her.  I’m not sure she’s even aware she has a metamour, or at least that there is a term for the relationship we have by virtue of sharing the same man romantically.  My position is to be understanding and accommodating and make things easier for all of this to work.  So, when A’s wife was having a hard time one weekend and really needed to spend time with him, I was understanding and forgiving when he cancelled a date.  When we set up weekly dates so that he could keep his weekend dates with his wife and family, I agreed.  It’s why when I try to make plans for us, I ask him to run it by her first, or ask him if she would be OK with me booking us to do an activity.  It’s why I accommodate changes in our plan.  It’s why I try to not ask for more than A can give (I’m not always perfect at this) and try to keep things casual and fun when we’re in between dates.  It’s just my part of making things easy for us to be together.  In the end, it’s about respecting the person I’m dating, his priorities, his obligations, and the other people who are important in his life.  More than that though, it’s about respecting his needs and desires in our relationship and working with him to create the relationship we want together.  

When I met L’s other girlfriend, I knew immediately that we were going to be friends. We just clicked.  I’ve been a source of support for her, welcomed her into my life with open arms, and I haven’t been disappointed.  She is really good for L and complements me well.  She’s young, but has had a life of someone twice her age.  She’s strong and independent and watching her make choices for herself to be happy is amazing.  She reminds me a lot of myself when I was that age, she’s still figuring things out and she’s doing a great job of it.  I’ve fallen into a bit of a mentoring role, mostly because I am older and have been through a lot of the things she is going through, but mostly, I think she’s going to end up being more like family. I can thank D’s wife over and over for showing me how to be supportive and accepting and welcoming of L’s girlfriend into my life.  L is so good at communicating things that he really facilitates his girlfriends being friends.  He loves us both, is committed to us both, and is creating a world with us where we all work.

I guess my point with this is that I think that if we are developing relationships that we allow to evolve on their own, without expectations or pressure, we should also do that with the relationships with our partner’s partners.  I think there are too many expectations in the metamour relationships in polyamory.  I think it’s good to respect your metamours for their decisions and their comfort levels.  What makes you happier and more comfortable may not be doable with them.  Attempt to understand them and be the metamour you would like to have.  

There’s going to be an inevitable time when I have a conflict with a metamour in the future.  I hope when it happens, I remember my own advice, to try and understand them and work with them.  


A poly year

A year ago, I went to bed, happy and fulfilled in my life, at least I thought.  I had a crazy dream that night.  A dream about X that was anything but platonic. That dream prompted me to message X when I got to work the next morning.  And the rest is history, as they say.  He introduced me to polyamory, and changed my entire life.

I’ve been poly for a year.  I’ve never been so certain about a decision in my life.  I am polyamorous.  I have had the most amazing year.  I fell in love with X and felt the intensity of our connection and loved him so completely.  Then it ended.  I met A, and we had the weirdest first date ever, with our bizarre coincidences and crazy connection.  We friend-zoned and were both happy to do so.  I met B, who was a romantic interest in my life for a short time, but has been a steadfast friend as I navigate my divorce and my dating life.  Then I started dating D.  I fell so madly in love with him, in the most intense and amazing way possible.  I had months of a near perfect relationship with him. It ended, in an absolutely awful way, but it doesn’t change how amazing the relationship was.  In the meantime, I unintentionally started the incredible relationship I have with A.  We embarked on an adventure exploring BDSM together.  We supported each other through some pretty shitty times.  We turned to each other when the rest of the world was railing against us.  We just became who we are together as a couple, while being who we are as individuals.  We figured out what worked for us.  I met L.  We are still working on creating what we want in our relationship together.  Committed and cooperative and happy and moving forward together.  

My marriage disintegrated.  It was awful and conflict-filled and I held on too long. Then I stood up, hopped off the roller coaster, advocated for myself, and moved forward.  We are working together to co-parent the most amazing four kids in the world.  We have moved forward as adults and our separation is negotiated.  I hope that moving forward we’ll work together instead of apart.

I dated.  I had coffee dates and dinner dates and drink dates and lunch dates and breakfast dates, and I had first kisses that rocked my world and second dates that ended in disappointment.  I had horrible dates and hopeful dates and disappointing dates and a wife messaging me to tell me I had a liar date.  

Outside of the poly part of me, I had three grandparents die.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer.  My sister cut me out of her life in a hail of fire.  I lost friends, met new friends, and connected more strongly with others.

I told many people about being polyamorous.  All but my sister reacted positively.  Nearly all embraced me and my chosen lifestyle completely, asking relevant questions and supporting my choice.  Most importantly, my mom supports me and my kids support me.  I have told so many people now that I’m almost “out”.  Not yet.  But one day, I will be.  In particular, I came out to G and to my person at work.  I made the strongest connections with two women who will always have my back.  They are better than having a sister.

I loved.  I loved men like I’ve never loved before.  My relationship with D only need serve as an example.  I’ve never loved someone who wasn’t blood so unconditionally.  My love for A is unique too.  It’s the first time I’ve submitted to a man worthy of my submission.  He’s earned a special respect and love from me. That’s something bigger than I can explain in words.  The fact that he doesn’t really ‘get it’ makes it even more important and a little funny too.  These loves taught me about the type of love I should have.  The type of love I want and the type of love I deserve and the type of love that I shouldn’t accept.  Through loving these men and the understanding of what it meant, I loved myself again.  I chose to stop sacrificing my happiness.  I expected more. I demanded more.  I became more.  I became a better woman, a better mom, a better partner, a better person.  I stood up for myself.  I supported the people I love.  I became who I’ve always wanted to be.  

I cried.  I hurt.  I raged.  I cried some more.  I have never felt so broken.  I have never felt so confused, hurt, rejected, unloved.  I cried as I shed my old me and the new me became.

Today, a year later, I’m happy. Truly, completely, thoroughly, uncomplicatedly happy.  My life is full of everything I could possibly want.  The most amazing kids, parents who love and support me, friends who accept me unconditionally, partners who accept me for who I am, two fulfilling, challenging, and stimulating jobs, and so much of everything I could ever need.

Happiness came in a form I never expected, because I had a dream.

Closing a door

The last week has been crazy in so many ways.  But I’m going to focus on a major decision I’ve made with regards to my marriage.  Let me see if I can piece together all the processing I’ve done during the last week into something coherent.

Last Thursday, I woke up with one of those rare (for me) feelings of unease. Like something was wrong, but I didn’t know what it was.  I hate things like this.  It makes it really hard for me to focus on anything else, and I obsessively process and try to work my way through things.  I don’t do well with not understanding my emotions.  As soon as I realize I don’t, I have to figure it out.  At first I thought I was just nervous knowing that I was going to kiss G.  Then I kissed her and it was still there, no change really.

Then I did some more processing and thinking and came up with a few twisty bits about A.  I tackled one of them.  I talked to G about the other and I still have to talk to A about it, and call me crazy, but I think it’s better if I talk to him in person about my Twisty Bit than publish it here to read. I do have a post almost entirely prepared about those Twisty Bits though. (Sorry A, you’ll actually have to have the serious conversation with me!)

So, that meant processing more.  I spent the entire weekend, except for Sunday night, alone with the kids.  This meant a lot of time to think and work and think and work.  One of the things I did was tell my four best friends from when I lived abroad that I am polyamorous. I did it in the best way possible.  Bandaid style.  I posted a picture of me with A and D and said “This is a picture of me with my boyfriends…”  and explained the whole thing.  In true friend fashion, they were all really supportive.  But my best friend there had the best thing to say:

Ahhh. I’m actually not surprised. And I’m not surprised that as soon as you were happy and confident in your professional and emotional life your hubby couldn’t cope. I’m glad you are finding yourself!!

Then I had a long chat with her on messenger and she pointed out a few things.  Patterns of behaviour that suggest that those bizarre boundary pushing behaviours, passive aggressive control manipulations, and general douchiness were actually present all along, not a product of the last six months.  She pointed out some situations where it was quite obvious that he was trying to control me. Where he said things that were so critical or manipulative or just a little too far past the truth to really stick.  As I thought of it, I realized a few things.  

When we were just the two of us, for the first 7 years of our relationship, I was strong and independent, but I made so much less money than he did that I was dependent on him and his support.  He could still be a real jerk, but it was seldom, because let’s face it, when you don’t have kids, things are a little easier to manage in life.  But there were times he accused me of trying to control him, or spending his money frivolously, or using him for this or that.  He guilted me about sex and he was a very selfish lover.  But it wasn’t that bad.  All of it could be excused by his challenging job, the fact that he was going to university full time and working full time, and the fact that he worked shift work and was often very tired.

Then, we had four kids in five years and four months.  I had two miscarriages in that time too.  I was depressed in the months leading up to getting pregnant with #2.  I’m a strong, independent, career minded woman and I was at home on maternity leave for 4 years. I sacrificed a lot to be home with my kids.  It’s OK, it was a choice I made, but it was still hard.  In between, I worked a job that I like, but didn’t give me the fulfillment that my job, in my chosen profession, that I have now, gives me.  I was unhappy.  Then, after #4 was born, I finally realized that I was depressed and went on medication.  It changed my life.  I was more engaged in life, I worked at making things work with hubby more, it was great.  In the end, after a year and a half on meds, I thought he and I were in a really good spot.  We weren’t really, but I thought we were.  

What I realized is that there was a lot of passive aggressive and outright aggressive criticisms of me taking place during those years.  Comments about how I shouldn’t be having a hard time and needing him at home on his days off because I was “just” at home with the kids doing nothing all day.  Comments about how all I did was “spend his money”.  Comments criticizing my diet, exercise, and appearance.  Recently, a lot of these things have really exploded. Yesterday he blamed me for all our financial issues and the told me that his mental health issues were because of the finances.

 Hmmmmmm…..sounds like I’m being blamed for his mental health issues.

These comments served to destabilize me more.  It was a way to control me. To keep me unhappy and “stuck”. For him to feel needed by me.  He knew I was unhappy being at home full time with kids, so he played up my dislike of it.  He knew I wasn’t fulfilled in my other job in emergency services and criticised me for taking a job in my chosen career instead.  He still criticises me about my job, complaining I work too much, complaining that I don’t make enough, complaining that I work and “let someone else parent my kids” (never mind that he is also working and letting someone else parent his kids….).  Then this crazy ass thing happened. I was professionally fulfilled for the first time since I graduated from grad school.  I found a job I love, doing what I want, with amazing coworkers, and great work/life balance.  

Then I reconnected with X.  He introduced me to polyamory.  I went through the growth of the heartbreak with him.  I met A, B, C, and D.  All of them have given me so much in my life, even if B is now a friend and C has disappeared because he’s W’s other partner.  I became happy.  Really, truly, deep down in the darkest corners of me, happy.  I found a part of me that I didn’t know was missing.  I felt (and still feel) complete.  

What I didn’t realize is how destabilizing my happiness and fulfillment in my professional and emotional life was to hubby’s mental health.  He no longer could control me.  With my happiness came the ability to calmly and patiently deal with life’s issues.  I had perspective and meaning and balance.  But hubby didn’t.  My happiness rocked his world view.  I stopped responding and getting angry at the little pokes. So the pokes got bigger.  He started stomping right through my boundaries.  He had to work harder and harder to get a reaction out of me.  Then, at a certain point, I couldn’t help but react.  I’m human. I got pushed to the point where I couldn’t be calm any more.  And I lost control.  And that was horrible.  

Inside all that conflict there was one thing that still was obvious.  I was happy. Complete.  In love with D and living my life exactly how I wanted. Then I crossed the couch and ended up with A.  My happiness and the ease with which I slotted A into my life was hard on hubby. He didn’t realize that I still loved him and wanted to be him, and that upped his boundary pushing to a point where it couldn’t be sustained any more. Because of all that pushing, I reacted and our relationship exploded.  

The last weeks have been interesting.  Hubby is not doing well. He’s quite obviously stressed – not sleeping, looks exhausted, unkempt and stressed.  He’s having a very hard time with me not reacting.  Except this week, I haven’t been my best and have reacted a little too often.  Mostly, he’s challenged by my calling him on his bullshit.  He’s complained that I’m not a stay at home mom, that I’m responsible for all the financial issues we have, says I’m abusive, he’s told me that I lost the right to be upset about the fact that he forced a situation where I had to tell a friend and my mom about being polyamory because I hit him. He’s told me he doesn’t feel like he’s ever had any control in his life.  He’s got a cloak of victim wrapped so tightly around himself that he can’t see how he is manipulating and being passive aggressive.  It’s sad.

What I had to ask myself after all of these realizations was:

  1. Do I think that hubby can do all the things I need him to do if we are to fix our marriage?
  2. What are all the things I need hubby to do if he decides he wants to fix our marriage?
  3. If he does decide that he wants to fix our marriage, do I really want that?  

It’s sad that this is what I’m thinking about.  But what it did was help me figure it all out.  The thing is, when I thought it was just hubby going a little crazy over a short period of time, I thought we could solve things.  Now that I realize it’s a pattern of behaviour that just amplified, I don’t think we can.

So, I’ve decided to formally separate from my husband.  I’m stressed about the details.  I couldn’t be more certain of my decision at this point.  

Just writing it out

I don’t know what form this is going to take.  I’ve been hurt so many times by hubby in the past 6 months that I don’t know what to say.  Here’s a bit of a play by play of what I can remember.  Why?  Because today hubby was pretty insistent that everything is my fault.  So here we go.

At the beginning of September, we embraced polyamory.  I was dating X, long distance, however, so it was phone calls and Skype and messenger.  Hubby was with his first girlfriend, V.  The had an intense and rapidly physical relationship, but his feelings for her were stronger than hers for him and he scared her off.  She broke up with him via text message and he took it very hard.  

I’ve always been his source of support.  He talked to me about it all and I listened patiently.  It was getting to me though.  It was a short relationship and there was no reason in my mind for him to be so hurt.  Moving on was what he needed, but he is all about the scarcity.  One night, after an exceptionally long day at work, followed by an appointment in the evening, I came home and when I walked in, I gave him a hug and said I was done for the day.  I didn’t have any more to give and couldn’t talk tonight.  I told him so.  I crawled into bed and was falling asleep as he came in with laundry and woke me up.  He started talking about kids and life and I reminded him that I couldn’t.  That I was done, I didn’t have it in me to have a conversation.  I told him what I needed.  He said “I don’t fucking care, you haven’t been here all day and I need to talk to you.  So you’re going to fucking listen.”  He proceeded to talk about his heartache, two weeks later, from V.  And I crushed him.  I was really hard on him.  I screamed and yelled and criticized and insulted and belittled him.  I was mean.  I had no patience and no filter and no restraint.  I wanted him to leave me alone.  Instead, I hurt the man I love the most.  I hurt him badly.  I apologized the next day, knowing how inappropriate what I did was.  He’s still angry.  He doesn’t recognize what he did.  He doesn’t recognize that he pushed across a boundary I laid down and I was reacting.  It doesn’t make what I did OK, but had he respected me, it wouldn’t have happened.

We reached a place of relative calm when he started dating D’s wife and his current girlfriend, W.  He really liked D’s wife much better than W, but then D’s wife called things off with him.  I was super supportive.  I felt bad for him and hugged him and did all the wifey things. But he said something about me being responsible for D’s wife breaking up with him because I was dating D, and I said “Please don’t interfere with my relationship with D because his wife broke up with you.”  I didn’t mean it in a horrible accusatory way.  It was simply a request.  But it was inappropriate for me to say.  This led to a long diatribe about how I was never supportive and I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, and how I hurt him.  No amount of apologies and calm responses talked him off the ledge.  At one point, he sent me a message from work with a picture of a sharps container from a local hospital and said “See this sharps container?  It’s more useful to me than you are, and it’s full of HIV and Hep B.”  I can’t even begin to tell you how much that hurt me.  It still hurts.  He kept telling me it was funny. That I should appreciate his humour.   I think he apologized once.  Maybe.  But he still said it was funny.  I felt so unloved. Disregarded.  Unvalued.  I knew he was hurting me because he was hurting.  I was the only place to take his frustrations out.  And out he did.  

I responded to that insult by booking a lot of time out of the house.  Forcing him to stay home.  I did it intentionally because I didn’t want to be around him.  W took it as an indication that I was trying to control him and his relationship with her.  Apparently he’s still getting hell for that.  (Funny, I would think calling me less useful than a sharps container would be worse than not seeing W for a week, but who am I to judge what he has a conscience about?).  Before he apologized to me, I apologized to him for overbooking myself out of anger and made every effort to make sure it didn’t happen again.  This has gone unnoticed.

I broke up with B and C cut me out of his life because W couldn’t handle me being friends with him.  This hurt a lot, because C was actually the person who was helping me deal with the weird relationship anarchy rules that W liked to arbitrarily lay down without actually communicating what they were to me.  He was such a good friend and a good support.  Unfortunately, hubby asked me once whether I was interested in C, and I said “Yes, we are attracted to each other and would probably date if he lived here.”  Well, according to hubby, I destabilized his relationship because I tried to fuck W’s other partner.  Ya.  I didn’t, and wouldn’t have anyway, and I quickly realized that since W is so difficult to deal with, I would never date C, because having two partners involved with W would be way too much for me! At this point, hubby was prioritizing all his time with her.  It was Christmas and we all had our own plans.  A couple days before Christmas, she was going away to spend a few days with her family and C, and hubby and I were having a romantic day together.  About 11 pm, she messaged hubby saying she was alone and asking him to come over (knowing we were on a date and that she should never have texted), and he asked to go (which he should never have done).  I said I wasn’t OK with it, and from the look on his face realized that he was going to be miserable if I didn’t tell him to go.  So was she.  And if he was miserable, I would be too.  So I told him to go.  I told him that it was better if only one of us was miserable and they were happy.  So he ran out.  He left me.  In the middle of a movie on a date together, to go see his girlfriend.  Him prioritizing his girlfriend over me had been a big problem to me.  This was devastating to me.  Heartbreaking.  He didn’t understand why I was upset because I told him to go.  He didn’t think I should be upset at all.  He didn’t understand why I was hurt. It took days to explain to him how unvalued and unloved I felt.  

Meanwhile, I had been arranging child care and everything so that he could go away with her. On New Year’s, we had a gathering at our place.  We walked to the fireworks and had a nice time.  I had worked a 12 hour day shift the whole day, so I was pretty tired.  When it was time to get the baby to bed, I asked hubby to change him while I got him a bottle, and W, in front of my friends, said “You’ve been home with the kids all day, why doesn’t she put him to bed.”  Reasons be damned, there is no situation where it is acceptable for her to have an opinion on our parenting, nevermind criticizing mine.  Not that hubby defended me.

A couple days later, hubby and I were arguing and he said “It’s been suggested to me that the reason we are poly is because you don’t love me and this way you get to fuck other men and still have me support you.”  I lost my shit.  W, who is so concerned about people knowing anything about her life that she canceled a coffee date with me when I told C I was meeting her for coffee, had read a text message from C and interpreted it as me not loving hubby and then told hubby.  Never mind that I had never said anything but that I love him.  That I want to support him.  I’d never said anything bad about him.  She said the single most destabilizing thing she could have.  But according to hubby, this is my fault.  Because I was friends with C.  Well, he says it was because I was “trying to fuck C”, but I wasn’t, so friendship it is.  I was so hurt. Hurt that she is so bad at poly that she would intentionally destabilize her partner’s relationship, and hurt that he would believe it.  I immediately contacted C and asked him to be careful about what was going around, and he contacted W, who got mad at hubby, who took it all out on me.  He told me that if she broke up with him over this he would divorce me.  Never in there was an acknowledgement that I was the victim.  

Of course, I was livid.  Rageful.  I lashed out and lashed out hard.  I insulted W and called her crazy.  I screamed and yelled and told him he was fucked up for wanting her and not seeing what a manipulative bitch she was.  I said horrible things about her.  I removed any illusion of hope for support of that relationship when I did that.  Later, I apologized for it and expressed understanding that it was inappropriate, but the damage was done.  I realized, too late, that I had to accept her, even if I didn’t like her.  I had to support him, even if she didn’t support his relationship with me.

Then I got drunk and had sex with A.  And then we started a relationship.  While hubby and I were arguing worse than ever, I started a relationship.  Not doing so would be a horrible thing to do to A, and since I care about him, I would never cast him aside for my marriage, but it was bad timing and that is my fault.

Meanwhile, hubby and I were fighting. All. The. Time.  Every discussion ended in an argument.  I couldn’t ask about plans for saturday without him telling me I was selfish. I couldn’t make plans to have my eyelashes done without a guilt trip about how I prioritize them over him.  He wanted to go on dates and have fun, but then would tell me that I fucked with W and scheduling and start arguing with me about hierarchy when I was just trying to determine his plans.  

One night they wanted to sleep at our house and I told them to go ahead and take our room.  He demanded the spare room.  I said no, i was using it, to sleep upstairs.  This ended up being a huge deal, because apparently I interfered with W coming over.  Turns out she refuses to sleep in our bed.  I had no idea.  He didn’t explain.  But I’m still at fault for not being willing to support their relationship.  

He wanted to go out and have fun.  He insisted we just be friends and not take anything seriously.  This seemed so fucked up to me, since it was like not talking about the pink elephant in the room. He refused to talk about anything. He refused to even take a selfie with me at the concert.  Now I’m not trying because I was hurt when he refused to let me.  I’m too angry and too reactive.  I was so hurt and angry that I couldn’t pretend to be OK when he kept telling me how much better W was than me.  The night before I left for the funeral, we went out.  We went for a drink and W and how much better than she is and how I did all these horrible things came up.  I tried to leave.  He wouldn’t let me.  It was too much.  I was leaving to go to a family member’s funeral and he was being awful to me.  We came home.  We were talking through some stuff.  I don’t remember what I said, but he grabbed my packed toiletry bag off the couch next to me and started stomping on it in anger. Destroying it.  In the previous weeks, he had dumped out my purse and my backpack in a similar way and thrown my phone against the wall.  I lost control.  I couldn’t handle him destroying my bag.  I flew off the couch and hit him.  I should never have hit him.  I know this.  It’s never acceptable.  

While I was away, he refused to talk to me.  I needed his support badly, but he wouldn’t give it to me.  When I returned, he left a few hours before to be with W.  I saw him for 1.5 hours the first week I was back.  We had a counselor’s appointment.  He’s angry.  He’s holding on to his anger like a protective victim cloak.  He thinks me hitting him negates all his responsibility, or at least that’s how it seems.  I agree that what I did was wrong. It’s never acceptable to hit someone in anger.  It’s terrifying to me that I lost control. I didn’t consciously decide to do so.  It just happened. It was a visceral response. I think that’s scarier than if I had decided. While I was away, I booked an appointment with a counsellor to start working on my tool kit.  I talked about her advice in a previous post.  More recently, I talked about how hard it is for me to not be entitled to my feelings.  To not be able to express my hurt at being deprioritized and abandoned and insulted and have my stuff destroyed.  How I have to be patient and wait until he is ready to come to the table to work on the issues I need to address.  It’s all about nurturing a little bit of hope.  And prioritizing my kids in the meantime.

But then there is the question of whether he will come back to the table.  Today, he came home to pick up our kids.  He started talking about how I have never supported him. That when he needed support, I took away his support for a week by booking so many activities, that I caused drama in his relationship by trying to fuck C, that it was my fault that W talked about me because I was friends with C, that I assaulted him in a criminal manner.  He started talking about me being abusive.  He said he doesn’t think our values align anymore. He says I spend too much money (I do), and that I’m going to be the reason for bankruptcy and no educational savings for our kids and for never being able to travel (not true).  He says that I don’t believe in parenting my own children because I have two jobs. That I work too much.  That I should be home with the kids parenting them. Never mind that I have 13 years of university education and love my job and have put my kids to bed every night this week, and do most weeks, he thinks I should give up my career to be home.  I keep the second job so that I can work on my holidays to gain extra money.

He’s reframed much of our relationship in the shadow of these last 6 months.  The truth of many events has been rewritten.  I see my faults in this.  I know there are many.  I want to make them right or make it up to him or at the very least make sure it happens again.  He isn’t seeing his responsibility.

One last point.  I’m pretty sure hubby has PTSD.  I think that’s what has taken his coping skills away.  While I don’t discount my role, I think that he has lost a lot of his resilience over the last months.  His threshold for anger is lower and he is more reactive than ever.  Gone is the patient, understanding, kind, and loving husband I had for 10 years.  The man who has replaced him is angry and hurtful and mean.  I miss my husband.  This  man is slowly killing me.

I’m just going to post this without editing. It’s just raw and out there.  I needed to get it out to help understand it all.  To get some of the hurt out in facts.


It’s not deep or meaningful, it’s just an update

I have rekindled a bit of a relationship with B.  It’s going well, we are enjoying talking again, and moving at a much slower pace than before.  It’s good, but his wife is having a hard time with the amount of time he spent with her while he was dating me properly and they are in the midst of an argument about the fact that she is feeling unloved and unprioritized.  I advised him that if she has a problem with him having a relationship with me now, that I lost the right to ask for support of my relationship with him from his other partners when I broke up with him, and he should prioritize them and not pursue anything with me.

It’s strange giving relationship advice to someone I am involved with.  It’s good, but strange.  I suggested to him that his marriage is more important than me, and he needs to fix things at home before we do anything other than talk in the future.  We’ll see if it goes anywhere.  He did message me to thank me for the support today, and that was nice.  I’m glad I can be a positive influence after the hurt I caused him.

At home, hubby and I seem to be jumping hurdles on a daily basis.  Unfortunately, we don’t seem to successfully jump them on the first try. Seems that we tie our legs together and then wonder why we crash through the hurdle.  We need to get better at that.

Most recently, hubby came home asking to spend a couple hours on either our date day that we have planned or on Christmas eve (which is when we are doing family Christmas) so he could spend some time with his girlfriend.  She is going away for four days and when she returns, they will be going on an overnight date.  I am currently at the end of three solo parenting days in a row, and tomorrow will be another.  Hubby works the four days before his overnight date, including Christmas. He’s spent more time with her in the last week than he has with me since September.

I’m disappointed that he even asked.  I get that he’s all NRE’d up and wants to spend every second with her, in fact, I feel the same way about D.  But I’m able to recognize that that’s not what we should be doing.  My feelings are hurt.  I feel unprioritized and second in line.  I feel less loved.  I feel like she is shiny and new and that it’s just a little too easy for him to cast me aside in favour of spending time with her.

Trying to explain how I felt went over poorly.  Hubby got defensive an angry and attacked.  He should have appealed to my love of him and desire for him to be happy and expressed in big boy words what he needed out of the situation.  He didn’t.  Fortunately for him, I talked to the amazingly talented C, who gave me great advice.  So, because I love hubby, and I want him to be happy, I told him to go see his girlfriend in the middle of our date.

In the meantime, she made plans with her other boyfriend, who also happens to be the same C as in the previous paragraph.  So, now hubby is mad at me because I talked to C about my issues with him asking me for time to spend with his girlfriend on our date day.  C gave great advice and didn’t break any trusts.  Honestly, hubby’s girlfriend didn’t make him a priority.  And a word of advice, when your hubby’s girlfriend doesn’t make him a priority, you shouldn’t state that fact out loud. Yikes!

The next days, hubby and I get to spend together. I’m so excited. Getting things back on track is going to be awesome. I love him, and want to work it out now. I want our awesome back.

In the meantime, I reopened my OKCupid account and am talking to a couple guys. I’m no longer looking for anything, but if the right guy comes along, that may change.

I miss D. A lot. He’s on vacation and gone for 2 weeks. Turns out he means even more than I thought. Because damn is it hard to just text. But we’re solid. And that’s good.