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What was in it for me?

I didn’t get much sleep last night so I’m feeling particularly salty. I was thinking about how shitty my time with him was and I really do wonder, what was in it for me?

Finances?

When we first got married after living together for 7 years, he was behind on taxes by 3 or 4 years. I had no idea. So, we really had to buckle down and pay that off. He asked me to close my brick and mortar business and move 2500 miles away so we’d have a “better financial future”. He said he intended on “providing”. But really, we were paying off his debt (and some of mine) and he just resented me all the way for it. Did we ever talk about it? Did we ever communicate roles or if I should go get a job or could we move back to our home town so I could pursue a career in my major?? No. Just resentment and silence. Cool.

He hated his work from home job SO much. So I encouraged him to look elsewhere. He called me a golddigger. While I was actively sitting on the table clipping coupons. I shit you not.

He decided that he wanted to be a Cinematographer and started spending money on cameras, lighting and books and put together a production team so he could make his first film. He declared that we would be moving back to the west coast for him to pursue his dreams. No discussing, just a declaration. Cool.

He got into a few film festivals and we traveled to see his film on the big screen. It didn’t go anywhere. But he was fully determined to make this work and made my life a living hell because he just wasn’t happy living on the East coast. This was 3 or 4 years into our marriage after we had just purchased our first home. And he dragged me here.

The cinematography thing didn’t pan out, and he got a job that offered him more than double his last job. Then they doubled it again. And almost again. He was thriving. Yay, good for him. (In this time, we moved back to the West Coast, I was actively miscarrying and we both hated it there and moved back here 11 months later. Then our dog died of cancer, it was a shitty, shitty time),

So, he made a lot of money. But he also spent it all. He would blow through about $10k a month on his hobbies, including photography. He blew through our savings, his grandmother’s inheritance, all of it.

I calculated that I benefited $18,500 a year from being married to him. I wasn’t a big spender, if I did spend, it was on my business, so that was a closed loop. But extra spending on myself? Under $20k a year. He was spending $120k +/-. His money, totally understandable… but this is me talking about the perks of being a married to this person. So far… meh.

The House?

We had a 3600 square foot brand new house with a gorgeous yard that I obsessed on. My inheritance paid for the down payment and he paid the mortgage. I painted almost every wall, I planted tons of plants, I decorated it. My business paid for most of the home decor.

Cleaning this monster took 3 days. I wasn’t a neat freak, but this was an important investment and I wanted to give it the respect it deserved. Any repair, any snag, any termites.. it was up to me to address. He didn’t want to deal with it. He acted like a teenager when I would approach him with anything. “Why is this my problem? You’re the adult! Just fix it! Don’t waste my time!” So I would and if something went wrong it was my fault.

And I was the only one cleaning. That man still has never cleaned a toilet. He would run and hide when I needed help cleaning because his own parents were coming. It was always a fight, I was always alone, I was always angry when I cleaned because he refused to help and he refused to talk about getting me help cleaning.

I really, really miss that house. But he took over every room and filled it with his hobby shit and now the house smells like him. The 1st floor A/C wasn’t working and somehow that made everything smell awful. I didn’t take much of anything because the smell permeated into the rugs, cushions etc. And I didn’t want to be reminded of it anymore. It’s so so so sad, but… I had to let it go.

The Sex?

Even from day one, I had to sort of force myself. I learned how to disassociate and kept my eyes closed tight. He wouldn’t bathe, he wasn’t even remotely athletic or… ugh TMI, I’ll stop. I told myself over and over that we were best friends and that was more important. That I would be shallow to throw away such a great relationship based on something superficial. I could go into fantasyland and pretend that it was better. I could think of other things. Mind over matter. I was a moron.

But the clues started popping up that he only wanted me for the sex. Any time I had a win, a success… He’d buy me lingerie or something in that family. Early on, I had a huge realization that my mom might be a narcissist and was I exploring breaking free of her, so I was feeling really empowered. So he bought me those acrylic stripper shoes and some pearl-lined underwear. Like WTF. “Your mom abandoned and neglected you, here’s something to use during sex that only I’ll enjoy!”

Then he started say things like “we should be able to do it even when we are mad at each other”. “It’s like getting on a treadmill, just a physical release. It doesn’t matter who is on the treadmill with you.” “It’s just like a handshake, I don’t know why women say it’s more than that?”

And then I said… “It’s supposed to be for emotional intimacy. Closeness. Bonding.”

He laughed at me. “That’s ridiculous!”

So we were driving through our beautiful neighborhood and I chuckled and said “These houses only exist because a penis is going into a vagina”. and he looked disgusted and said “You’re so cynical!”

Then he got obsessed that I was never attracted to him so our lack of sex was my fault. I tried to explain that him bathing, getting haircuts, washing his clothes and brushing his teeth had something to do with attraction, but he didn’t believe me. He thought that attraction meant that the other person could be disgusting, but you’d still want them. Ummm, what?

Not to mention that he had reverted into being a toddler when it came to every other discussion we engaged in. He was so annoying. Tantrums, debating, arguing, disappearing into the bathroom for hours. All the time. He always got his way, he never had to lift a finger because he would just weasel out of it every time. And I was completely turned off by him, but that was somehow all my fault.

And the last straw… he asked me to leave due to lack of sex. I said “what if I had cancer or something?” and he said that would have been different.

To be reduced to that. To know that is how he saw me. He never asked me what I liked or what I wanted. It was always about him. I didn’t feel human. I felt like a hole in the wall.

The Friendship?

This was the only thing that kept me there. That and some very strange pull of loyalty and hope that he’d grow up. I was such an idiot.

We could talk for hours, play video games until dawn, watch movies while eating fruit loops and just giggle. We had a blast. I enjoyed all that time we had when we were just doing the friend thing. Exploring, road trips, coffee runs. I loved that side of him.

But even the friendship started to seem one sided. He never asked me about me, he wasn’t curious about my inner world at all. He barely knew me other than my superficial likes.

But the moment I needed him for anything, the moment his friend status turned to “husband”… to discuss a repair, to comfort me after a death, to take me to a medical procedure, to help me with something he was an expert on, to help me solve a personal problem, to be available during an emergency… he opted out. He wasn’t my emergency contact, my doctors were calling my mother 2500 miles away if they needed someone. But he listed me on everything, the dentist called me about his reminders. I was supposed to show up for him like a mom, he was the kid with zero responsibility back.

He just refused to do anything at all past friendship, but he wanted the perks of a wife. So, I tell people… He wanted a wife but he didn’t want to be a husband.

And I was okay with that for a long time. The Friendship carried us. But as we aged, it was impossible to do that.

Bills were more complicated, people were getting sick and dying, houses were getting bigger, we were getting injured. He was training me to become smaller, quieter, lose myself and he was becoming more demanding, even less present and more loud about having access to my body. And one day, I just snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Too Good to Leave, Too Bad To Stay

It’s a book that helps you decide if you should stay in or get out of your marriage.

I got like 30 pages in and realized I needed to go. It was blatantly obvious.

I was an asshole and left that page bookmarked and put the book in a place he might find it.

I think the passage said something about “It was never that good to begin with”. And that was the solid truth.

So, what was in it for me? Trauma? The familiarity of being punished for existing? I’m not sure. I honestly would love to hear what he says about this. I would love to know what he believed he brought to the table other than medical insurance and a 401K he didn’t start paying in to until 2017 because he didn’t wanna.

I begged for help, to be heard, valued, appreciated, flirted with.. for him to bathe and get his teeth cleaned. Somehow, all of that was an attack and it made me the nagging, bad, inflexible wife. So, I would suck it up, stay quiet and absorb the pain. And then when we finally got into marriage counseling, his truth came pouring out. His views on relationships were revealed. I wonder why he hid it for 23 years?

But I really REALLY want to know… did he think he was a good husband?? I’m so morbidly curious to hear the answer to this.

And, I fought to refinance the house, take care of the repairs, make adult decisions when I didn’t know what I was doing. I hated cleaning, too. I didn’t want to do any of it. At all. But I did. And now he gets to keep the house, the 3% loan I had to fight him to get and he gets to live a life I had a huge hand in setting up, all while resenting me for not giving him my body more while telling me I was cynical for thinking that way.

That’s a huge FU, mate.

And yes, that’s a tiny engagement ring coming through a glory hole. That seems to sum up my marriage in one neat visual now that I have clarity and distance because that’s how he saw me. That’s how he preferred me.