Happy Right Now

My life is fucking fantastic.  Shall we talk about how?  Yes, yes we should!

Well, F has moved out. Or at least there are dirty spots that need to be swept or vacuumed where large pieces of furniture used to be.  It’s almost done.  The relief and happiness I feel at this transition into independence is incredible.  Yesterday, I picked up my kids to take them for dinner, and my eldest two expressed that they were having a hard time with all the changes, as the previous night was their first night in their dad’s new place.  Luckily, my parents live close, and were able to come meet us for supper, and helped me give the kids the love and attention they needed to just feel a little more secure in their little lives.  When I dropped the kids off with F, he and I had a good chat about how to help the kids with the transition and came up with a plan to work together. We talked with our eldest about how we are friends now and we are going to always be on her team and want to help her as much as possible.  I talked to my second eldest and just hugged her and sung the “I’ll love you forever” song, and she said “Does this mean you’ll always be mommy?”, and I said “Yes sweetheart, I’ll always be your mommy and I’ll always be here for you.”  I have no illusion that F and I won’t fight in the future, but last night was a great example of what positive separation and coparenting looks like.

My job is great.  I am getting constant positive feedback from the people I work with and the people I work for.  More importantly, I love everything about it.  I enjoy the intellectual stimulation, the challenges, the people I work with, the learning I do, and the flexibility in my schedule.  

Things with A are great.  More on that in another post, because I have a lot to say there, and he’s pressuring me for an insight into my thoughts on recent events, and it’s fun to make him wait.  Things with L are good. I don’t see him as much as I would like.  I’ve been busy and he’s started dating another girl, so his time is more limited.  He has evening activities often and I’m busy during the day.  He’s been pushed back in the pecking order of my men a bit, but when we are together it’s amazing.  He’s supportive and fun and loving.  What we have is great, and I’m going to choose to be happy with that.  I’ve been dating another guy.  This gorgeous, sweet, kind, and fucking sexy man, who I guess will get the letter M.  I met M months ago at a polyamory pub night.  He and his girlfriend and her husband gave my drunken ass a ride home that night.  I remember him walking into the pub and thinking “Damn, he’s really fucking hot.  I bet he’s an asshole.”  Sure enough, I was completely wrong.  Talk about an exercise in checking my biases and assumptions.  He’s so nice.  He’s going through a divorce, has two kids that are the same ages as two of mine, and he’s amazing in every way.  Everything about being with him is simple and easy.  When we began talking, it was because he sent out this “You are Awesome” video to nearly everyone on his friends list on Facebook.  I wrote back that I thought he was awesome too, and asked if he had sent that message out to everyone, and he said yes and that his phone was blowing up.  I commented that it must usually be like that, and he said “No, it’s usually pretty quiet”.  I said that surprised me because he’s so hot and charismatic and kind that I thought the women would be throwing themselves naked at his feet.  He destroyed my assumptions by saying that had never happened, and said he thought I was hot too.  I just said “Really? We should talk about that some time?”  He responded with “Nice advance lady!”, and we kept on talking.  That was over a month ago, and it’s going great. He’s fun and kind and makes me laugh and turns me on and rocks my world and I’m happy with how simple and easy it’s been.

Everything is great.  I’ve never been this happy. Ever. Which brings me to an interesting conversation with a coffee date I had a few weeks ago. He said: “I’ve given up on happily ever after.”, and this got me to thinking.  I don’t think there is a happily ever after. That’s the stuff of lies and fairy tales.  What there is, or at least has the potential to be is Happy right now.  This is my new commitment to myself, working for the end goal of being happy right now.  It’s just all part of making the choices to be true to myself and live the life I choose.

 

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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.

Six long weeks

Smack dab in the feelings. That’s where I landed tonight.

A friend invited me to her birthday party in the first week of August today.  She specifically invited A with me, which is kind of awesome.  I invited him along.  Sure enough, he’s gone that weekend. Then he’s away for 2 weeks starting the weekend after.  And I’m gone the weekend he gets back.  So we just lost every weekend in August. Every. Single. Weekend.  I’m having surgery on Wednesday. I’m getting a tubal ligation and uterine ablation. As a now “single” woman, I need to be in control of my fertility, and this is the best way. Of course I’m safe about my sex.  Condoms are an investment I make in bulk. Sexual health is important to me.  But most definitely, my uterus is closed for inhabitation, and I won’t be leaving control of such a situation up to the men I’m having sex with or a piece of latex.

But the thing is, I’m going to lose a couple weeks of recovery time to this procedure, possibly more. The recovery time can be anywhere from one to six weeks.  So, we’ve also lost the last couple of weeks in July.  It may be as distant as September the next time we can have sex.  This makes me sad. I guess it will depend on my pain and how well I heal, and the ridiculous schedule the men in my life have.  I had absolutely incredible sex with L on Friday afternoon and what was going to be mind-blowing sex with A that was interrupted with real life on Friday evening, and then he spent the night for the first time in our entire relationship and it was amazing and I wish I could have enjoyed it properly, but he had to leave early in the morning, and biology decided to fuck with me and be a giant pain in the ass this morning, and my period arrived three days early, when I was really hoping to use those three days to bank all the sex I could before I had surgery.  So, now sex is off the table for the foreseeable future, A and I probably won’t be able to have sex for two to six weeks or so, and L and I won’t have sex for at least two to 4 weeks.  Maybe one of the other three men I’m dating/interested in may move in there, but the reality is that this girl who needs a little more attention won’t get the sexual attention she needs.  Chances are, regardless of need for sexual attention, the men in my life won’t be available.


I wrote this several days ago.  Yesterday, I had my tubal ligation and endometrial ablation.  I had a bit of hope when the nurse told me it would be only a couple of weeks until I could have sex, but the obstetrician burst that bubble just before I went into surgery and told me it would be 4-6 weeks.  The endometrial ablation basically destroys all the cells in the lining of my uterus, and so no penetration with anything is allowed for 4-6 weeks due to the risk of infection.  So, it’s going to be the end of August before I get to have sex.  I know what it’s like to need IV antibiotics because of a major infection, that’s not something I want to repeat, so I shouldn’t complain. It’s totally worth it.  But damn if it isn’t going to be hard. I should have had this procedure when I was still married to F and didn’t care if I had sex for months at a time.  Well, I’m sure I’ll live through it, and it’s not like I have to be a nun during that time.  I’ll find ways to enjoy myself and the men in my life.

Among the funnier things yesterday was my mom coming to pick me up from the hospital and asking me how I was feeling and me answering “I’m stoned”, and us both laughing about the fact that we never expected me to supply that answer voluntarily when she was picking me up.  The anesthesiologist I had was the same woman who gave me my epidural with baby #3.  Somehow, we ended up having a conversation about misogyny in academia and in her chosen profession, congratulations about separations, and everything in between.  In general, the whole thing was fun and interesting and relatively painless, thanks to some Tylenol 3’s and my parents who spoiled me rotten, and exceptionally good medical staff.  

Today, I’m feeling a little bit tender and swollen. I stole away for a lunch with A, which was, by far, the highlight of my day.  The man gives the best hugs and the after lunch hug has sustained me for the rest of the day.

I’m back with my munchkins now, having convinced F that he should put them to sleep to give me a little extra time to recover, since I’m not supposed to lift anything and I have a toddler who loves to be carried everywhere.  I got a lovely welcome from #2 and tomorrow will be full of cuddles and relaxation, while my new nanny gets acquainted with the kids.  It should be good.

Whole

I crossed the couch and unintentionally started a relationship with A just over 6 months ago.  Back then, if someone had said I would be separated, D and I wouldn’t be together anymore, and I’d be in love with A and dating actively, I would have told them they were smoking some awesome drugs.  But that is my reality.  Six months, A and I have been together.  He’s never said he loves me, although I think he likes me and the time we have together a bit more than a little.  Do I care that he knows I love him, and he’s never said it?  Not even a little.  I’m happy with what we have, including him and his reluctance to talk about feelings.

I saw my person for the first time in a couple weeks.  I updated her on the goings on in my life and it took 45 minutes to just give the brief explanation because my life is weird, and awesome, and so very fucking full. I realized again, just how much support I have in my life.  I’m so lucky.

Among the things that happened this week is that I found my first cheating asshole!  I’m very clear with every man that messages me on OKC that I am polyamorous, I’m not interested in casual sex, I’m not anyone’s unicorn, and if there is a wife or significant other in the picture, that person needs to be 100% in the know before I even consider dating someone.  Well, I went out with a guy.  Had an amazing kiss in my parking lot (did I mention that I had 3 first kisses in that parking lot in the last week?  Well, I did)  The next day, I got a text from his wife telling me that he was breaking all their rules and that he was lying to me and to her. So. Not. Cool. So, I obviously walked the fuck away from that without looking back.

I’ve been staying at my parents when F is parenting in our house and this week I had a great talk with my step-dad. This guy is the most amazing father figure. He’s been there for me, for my sister, and for my kids more than any other male figure has been.  He told me he was proud of me. That he was happy that I finally realized what was going on between F and I and that I stepped away from the dysfunction.  He was supportive and awesome and loving and amazing and totally dad-like.  It was so refreshing.  It was one of those dad conversations that won’t happen again for years, but I feel better, and anchored, because of it.

I got the second part of my tattoo done.  It didn’t escape me that the flower bud that represents my second  miscarriage was what was the most painful!  But damn is it amazing!!!  I’m so happy with it.

The other day, F and I had our second collaborative meeting with our lawyers.  It went so well that we actually got up and hugged each other part of the way through.  It was incredible actually, to be laughing and joking and having fun while discussing divorce proceedings.  Things seem to be working out as far as that goes.  We’re actually getting along reasonably well and the kids are doing well too.  We told them that we are separated last week, and they reacted as well as can be expected.  They actually seem to be doing quite well with it all and only time will tell how quickly they adjust.

So much is going so well for me right now.  I realized that I’m actually truly, unequivocally happy.  Content in my life, my strength, my independence.  Loving my kids and my jobs and my boyfriend and dating new and interesting people.  For the first time in a year, I don’t feel stressed or sad or angry.  I just am.  I’m in control of as much of my life as I can be, have accepted the parts of life I cannot change, and am moving forward with intention, joy, love, and independence.  I am whole again.

Broken

The last week has been amazing in so many ways.  Things are falling into place.  F and I are working together really well.  Our bi-weekly finance discussion went so smoothly this week that we ended up thanking each other for working as a team and cooperating so well.  We laughed about things our crazy kids did.  I offered to do some things for him, he for me.  It was so….functional.  

My job is gearing down for the summer.  This is awesome, because it has been, at times, rather insane, with long days and intense work stresses.  I love my job, but even a job I love gets overwhelming with pressure sometimes.  I  also had a great weekend with so many friends around me that love me.

So everything is shiny and beautiful and perfect, right?

No.

I’ve been really down the last couple of days.  This is completely unlike me. I’m normally a super positive person.  I usually have to focus on something super sad to even cry when I want to.  (Unless I’m angry, I can cry very easily when pissed off).  Yesterday, for unknown reasons, my date ghosted and I ended up alone in the evening.  This isn’t that big of a deal. I like being alone with myself.  I’m great company for myself.  But the overwhelming sadness just wasn’t going away.  I asked A to go out for a drink, but he was busy.  This isn’t surprising, he’s always busy these days, and I’m trying to be cognizant of exactly how much I’m asking of him, which in recent weeks has been more than he can give because I haven’t been coping with life that well. I know that sometimes I need to find my support elsewhere, and working out exactly what I need to do to get what I need and, truthfully, even recognizing what I need, is a challenge.  

So, since I was utterly alone last night, I headed into our gorgeous river valley to feed the mosquitoes go for a walk.  I decided I was going to focus on the super sad things that have happened in my life in the last 5 months, to see which one was the one that was trying to make itself known.  I had 2 grandparents die.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer.  My sister attacked me unfairly in a family text conversation and we haven’t talked since.  D broke up with me via email.  I asked F for a separation and we have had near endless conflict for about 9 months. I figured if I was sad, I probably had one or more of these things still to deal with. What this meant is that I was completely overrun with despair. I walked and walked and stifled tears the whole way.  I was feeling dejected and unloved and unwanted and weak and overwhelmingly hurt.  I can’t explain how bad I felt, I haven’t ever felt the way I did last night.  I got back to my car, sat in the driver’s seat and cried.  Full on sobbing, ugly tears, break-down cried.  It hurt in my heart and my stomach and my head.  I cried for probably a good 20 minutes until F texted me to ask me if I was coming home soon because he wanted to get to W’s house.  I figured if I sat there much longer, someone would call the cops because they would be concerned for my safety, thinking I was about to jump in the river or something.  So, I drove home with tears in my eyes, just hoping I could hold it together while I said goodbye to F so that I didn’t have to explain to him that I was broken but didn’t know why.  

Well, that didn’t work.  I walked in and he immediately asked me if I was OK.  I said I didn’t want to talk about it and stood their crying silently as he talked about the day he and the kids had.  He looked up and realized what was happening and stopped talking and offered me a hug.  I declined and he asked if I was sure.  I took the hug.  It was the first proper hug he’s given me since early February.  It wasn’t what I needed, but it helped. It got me out in the yard to do some work before I went to bed and helped redirect me.

I was chatting with X and K during the evening as they both asked how I was doing and I was honest.  X said he had been thinking that he wondered how I did it all, and he concluded that I am Wonder Woman.  K said that he didn’t know how I held up as long as I did and that I’m superhero strong and a real lioness.  In my weakest moment, two people who I care about deeply said something about me being so strong.  I felt so vulnerable and so broken.  I cried even more then, but it helped to realize that people who actually know me see me as a strong person, and that it was OK that I was sad.

I think what happened, or what is happening, is that life has calmed down.  I’m no longer running on adrenaline, putting metaphorical fires out, bouncing from one stressful life event to the next.  I don’t have constant conflict in my life.  I’m not busy like I was a couple months ago.  I’ve had sufficient, and even abundant, down-time lately.  Dealing with the stresses in my life, on top of parenting my children, maintaining my career, boyfriends, friendships, and family obligations has been overwhelming the past months, and I was just operating on autopilot, because I didn’t have the luxury of taking time to process.  I think my subconscious decided that now that I have time, it was OK for me to feel all the feelings.  All those feelings came out all at once last night.  I broke.

This is all OK. Actually normal.  Of course I couldn’t hold it all together.  Who could?  

My friend, the one who came for my birthday, when I posted about my crying in a group we are in together with four of our mutual friends, said: “ It’s normal to feel some sadness. While there are some great things happening in your life, there is also some not so great things happening in your life. Sometimes it’s great to have a good cry.”

Rock reforms with the pressure of water.  Water carves canyons and creates beautiful creations simply by running over it.  I’m hoping that’s what my tears are doing, helping me reform and create something beautiful.  

 

A good place

On Friday, I decided I was taking this weekend to myself.  To be alone and reflect and do some self care.  As alone as one can be when having to keep four young kids alive, anyway.  Saturday and Sunday, I spent in my yard.  I planted most of my garden, mowed the lawn, trimmed the trees, weeded flower beds, and worked.  I got dirty, sweaty, and hot; it was amazing. My kids ran around naked and played in the little paddling pool and got wet naked bums and went shooting out the slide into the pool. My little man learned a bunch of new words this weekend and came and grabbed my hand and dragged me to the couch for a cuddle, which melted my heart.  My girls were lovely, fun, and full of spunk.  The kids played with the neighbourhood kids.  It was easy and relaxing and fun and I processed. Oh how I processed.

I’m in a really good place. The knot in my stomach, the lump in my throat, and the pain in my heart are gone.  I’ve worked at accepting that I may never understand why D ended it the way he did and that I may never understand what my part in it was.  I’ve concluded that I can say it was not me, it was him.  The anger and hurt have dissipated and I think about D far less every day.  So much less that I am forgetting I’m angry about the way he ended it and happy memories float in instead.  As is always the case with me, I can’t stay angry or hold a grudge.  I process quickly, and I’m confident that in no time I’ll just be looking back at everything but our break up with a fondness for how amazing it once was.  The truth is, it was amazing. A relationship ending does not mean it was a bad relationship.  It was a great relationship.  It just had a bad ending.

In among the hurt that I was dealing with last week, F threw me another curve ball in our separation.  A and D had both been suggesting for a long time that I was being too nice.  So, I stopped being so nice.  I’m playing hard ball to his curve ball and he’s upped the passive aggressive bullshit and I’m tired of it.  So I’m going to just let it go and wait and see and try to enjoy my kids and the time I have with A. I need to let go of all the hurt and anger and just be. Take things one step at a time.  Lean on my people and just do stuff in the meantime.

Part of what I did yesterday was reactivate my OKCupid account. I really like getting to know people, talking to them and seeing where things go.  It’ll have to be a pretty strong connection to even get me out on a first date, but there’s no harm in chatting, right? I’m truly not “ready” to date, but I also don’t know when I will be, or if the good time will ever come.  I’m going to play things by ear and see where they go.  I’ve had a lot of messages on Fetlife in the last weeks and am still chatting with K, who I will almost certainly date one day.  The reality is that A’s schedule isn’t going to lighten up in the foreseeable future and we’ve fallen into a good routine with our one in home date every week and stealing a moment here or there otherwise.  I don’t want him to feel pressured for more than he can offer either and that means I might have to get my rocks off elsewhere periodically. I’m polyamorous, so it’s a little odd to have just one man in my life. (If someone would have told me I would write that sentence a year ago, I’d say they were nuts!) I’m just going to be open to possibilities right now and see how things go.

Either way, I’m back to being happy with the life I’ve chosen for myself. I know the decisions I’ve made were right and even though the pain of polyagony has been abundant as of late, living the life I was meant to live and accepting myself as who I am is worth every bit of pain.  I could, however, use a bit of a break.  

Before D dumped me….

…..I was writing this blog post!  His email came in as I was about to publish this!

As soon as I say I’m OK and everything is improving, life derails a little bit again.  I woke up this morning with that knot in my stomach nagging feeling that something was wrong. (The fact that I was writing this as D was composing a break up email, is rather interesting, isn’t it?)  I’m my world, that always means I have something I’m not processing properly or I need to work out and process.  Usually, going for a walk or run or having some time alone works for me to get to the root of the problem.  So, since F was parenting this morning, I took off for a good long walk this morning to clear my head.

While I was out and about, I had the genius idea to take my second on a mommy-daughter date this afternoon, because F was parenting.  So, when I got home, I asked him to come chat with me.  He came upstairs reluctantly and I said: “Hey, would you mind if I picked child #2 up at 5:00 and took her out for a mommy-daughter date and came home at 7?”  Exactly like that.  No demand, not pushing, just asking.  What I got was this:

“This is why you can’t be home when I’m parenting. Why the fuck aren’t you at work? All you do when you are home is interfere and get in the way.  You just cause conflict and make demands of me and make everything difficult.  Why can’t you stop making demands on my time and just go to work.  I have plans tonight and now you are ruining them by changing all our plans at the last minute. This is all about you controlling me.”

While screaming “What. The. Fuck!” on the inside, I responded: “Hold up.  We don’t have any plans.  But I just asked you if it was OK.  I’m here to discuss things with you. Tell me what you need, clearly, without accusations and insults.”

I got from him: “You said you’d be home early and I made plans and not you are changing them and controlling me and demanding my time without talking to me….”

Me, annoyed: “Say what you need.  Communicate with me.”

Him: “I would like you to not take child #2 on a mommy-daughter date today because I made plans and I’d like you to come home earlier.”

Me: “OK. Was that so hard? You can definitely go spend more time with your new family because they are more important than your daughter having a special date with her mom.”

OK, so I should have stopped at “Was that so hard?”  But damn!!!  Why he thinks any of that is appropriate, I don’t understand.

So, he asked when I’d be home, and I said between 5:30 and 6 and he got mad and said that wasn’t early enough.  I told him that was what he gets and said “I’m going to have a shower, then I’m going to work, I’m done talking now.”

I went into my bedroom and locked the door.  Child #3 was inside because she wanted to have a shower too.  So, I undressed and was getting ready to get in the shower and in walks F.  He had broken into the room by popping the lock. Here I am, naked, and he breaks into the room I’m in trying to have a shower. I’m pretty sure that a locked door is a pretty damn crystal clear boundary, that he just barged right through.  I yelled at him to get out.  He refused.  Said “It’s my fucking house, I can be wherever I want to be.”  So I pushed him out the door and locked it and went and hid in the ensuite and then he broke in again.  Fortunately, he walked away.  I showered and child #4 was in our room messing around while #3 showered and F was downstairs, not parenting, but working out.

Then this happened:

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As the day went on, he just got more annoying, worried about himself, and being a giant dick.  I had a great conversation at work and saw a friend this afternoon.  I came home at 5:30 and he left.  Thank goodness. My kids were wonderful and we had a lovely evening, despite the usual post-F parenting behavioural issues.

All this talk of assault got me thinking.  One of my friends suggested I contact police and file a report. First off, I don’t think I need to waste police time.  Second, I didn’t really know where assault and defense lies in all that.  So I consulted my cousin the police officer who is one of my closest friends too.  I wish I had done it before. She said that technically what I did was assault him, but any police officer would listen to my side of the story and tell F that he’s wasting his time.  Her advice?  Next time, don’t push or shove, punch him.  It’s all the same!  Jokes aside, she raised a really good point. He likes to hold assault over me.  She advised me to respond by saying “If you want to talk about assault, call the police and make a statement, otherwise, drop it, because we aren’t having this conversation.”  Fucking genius. Take his power away.  She also pointed out that I need to be very careful, because his increasing anger and aggression could be dangerous. With how fit he is and his brown belt in Brazilian jiu jitsu, he could be a real danger to me.  She said to always err on the side of caution and make sure that he isn’t given the opportunity to hurt me.  Wise words from a person who has seen so many horrible domestic situations.