“Woman, you have got to calm down. I ain’t talking to you when you’re like this, some batshit crazy person who just came out of the loony bin.” The imbecile coldheartedly told me that after I discovered that he has an ongoing affair with my son’s tutor. I know! He has to tap our son’s teacher, and our boy doesn’t even need his father’s “help” on that matter since he is brilliant. I was beyond pissed.
I do understand what Stacy Donn Cristo, LMHC used to say, “Love is the root of what brings each and every one of us to therapy—the need to understand love, the hunger and desperation to find love and experience love, the desire to love and the desire to be loved.” But clearly, I was at the end of my rope, and I told him to screw himself, his new fugly girlfriend, and that I wanted a divorce. Immediately. He laughed and said, “Like you need to remind me twice, b*#$@! (Starts with a B and rhymes with SITCH.) You’re the worst lay I have ever had in my entire life. Go to a psychiatrist, or maybe a sex therapist so that you’d learn a thing or two about it. No wonder I keep cheating on you. Pathetic.”
I was stunned. His words crushed my being. I mean, we’ve been together since we were fifteen and we learned everything from each other. Now, after all these years and two beautiful kids, he has the guts to tell me that I suck in bed? That was his reason for cheating on me and breaking our marriage vows? Hell, no.
But what if he was right? He has had practice over the years. I’d find him with another girl or some slut, and we’d separate for a bit. After a few months, I’d forgive him. That was the cycle. But this time it’s different. I never told him that I wanted a divorce until now. Ten or more infidelity discoveries in eight years – this is the first time I’ve said that I want a divorce. This is also the first time he said that he also wants it, in a way.
Did I cry? Yes, I did. I’d be lying if I said no. We were sweethearts for five years and married for eight years. That’s thirteen years of my life with him. I love that stupid momma’s boy to the bone, but I realized that he doesn’t love me enough. If he cared about me, he wouldn’t have hurt me over and over again. But he did, and I think he’s right. Not on the sex part though since I know that I’m a goddess in the sack. He was right when he said that I needed to see a psychiatrist.
Dr. Chantal Gagnon PhD LMHC article once quoted that “Happy people do things differently. They make their emotional wellbeing a priority and practice daily and weekly habits that help them create joy, happiness and satisfaction in their lives.” With that, I need to heal from all the low self-esteem, barely-there self-confidence, the verbal and emotional abuse, and well, my upcoming divorce. We have two sons together, and I am left to explain to our boys why mommy and daddy need to separate for good. I am left to explain that daddy’s new girlfriend is their tutor. How am I going to tell that to a couple of six-year-olds? Now, I am sure that I need some type of help.
To say that I regret to have met him is false. I wouldn’t have my sons if we didn’t meet. If there were one thing that he gave me that was precious, it would be our children. Other than that, I would like to close the books on our past and start moving forward. “Focus on yourself and your own happiness and do not compare yourself to others,” says Marc Romano, PsyD. And that is what I am going to do.