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The Threesome: Splitting the Uprights!

There is no concise way to begin this other than with an “It happened,” and that was that kind of attitude. It wasn’t some awe-inspiring moment or a long time fantasy come to fruition. Instead, it was something more ridiculous and frankly quite distressing. It was a desperate attempt to save my marriage. I’m not embarrassed by it, or ashamed. It’s just what a wife did.

Now I know you’re th/inking, “How could that save your marriage?” Shit! I don’t know! I was struggling and clearly it did nothing worthwhile, as I am divorced for a compounding set of problems yet still I tried it all. But let’s dip into why that moment was even brought into being. My ex-husband and I started dating at 16 off and on until about two years after my daughter was born, and we moved in together. I thought we were in a serious relationship. He was just seriously about himself.

He slept with whomever he felt like and stayed out late.  So late sometimes in fact that I would have to take the bus to work instead of driving my car. Now as a consequence of having a man who is a cheater and women who will do whatever, whenever, I naturally remained quite undesirable to my husband. He, in my mind, had insane expectations of me.  I worked full-time, went to school full-time, took care of the kids, and was expected to cook, clean and fuck like a porn-star at any random hour all while maintaining a certain weight and physical appearance.  Now I’m sure there are women who do these things like it’s no big deal, but even if you maintain it for a while you have no choice but to remove caring for yourself out of the equation.

It also isn’t a big deal if you have help when you need it, and that help doesn’t come at the cost of who you are being degraded for having the audacity to actually need help.  Most importantly if you are loved.  As a woman being loved can give you the energy to burn and rebuild Rome in a day, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t loved, I wasn’t appreciated. Hell, I wasn’t even wanted. I have come to accept that I was just convenient.

How does one accept being convenient? Well to add to my misery I was in an abusive relationship, as part of that cycle I spent countless hours trying to make me better so maybe he wouldn’t hit me, maybe he wouldn’t talk down to me, and maybe he would stop cheating. I felt I owed it to my children to have their father in their lives and a little misery for me was okay if they could have a lot of daddy.

So where does this threesome come in? Well, he asked for it, repeatedly.  After I caught him getting fellatio in a car parked just blocks from our house I had to accept that I wasn’t mentally prepared to leave him and the disrespect. I decided it couldn’t get much worse, and maybe this would be worth a try.  It was one of my dying relationships last wishes.

I don’t remember the exact date or the details. All I can tell you is it isn’t all that bad, and an extra vagina won’t save your relationship.  We were no more and no less in love after the fact. Nothing much changed.  I came to better understand that I held no real value in my relationship.  I truly believe that a man who loves his wife would not have any desire to share her with anyone, for any amount of potential pleasure or bragging rights. There’s an inherent selflessness and also a selfishness in love.  As a result, I continued to withdraw and he continued to be himself.  For a period of time he even treated me as though he was suspicious of me and whether or not I was cheating on him with a woman. I have come to understand that he was probably mirroring his own behaviors on me (what shrinks call “Projection”).  Eventually, I withdrew  completely from sexual encounters just from a lack of emotional attachment.  I no longer desired the man that I chose to be with because he had no love or respect for me as a woman.  I was tired, depressed, alone, and a side-chick in my own marriage.

I still made attempts to perform my wifely duties when called upon, but my vagina lacked lubrication, and my heart was long gone behind the wall I’d built.  In an attempt to correct my bodies behavior I sought out various options. Store bought lube only helped briefly during an encounter, and I had long since forgotten the rush of a sexual encounter.   I accepted that he was going to cheat, and I was going to pretend not to care. Eventually I started seeing a physician, who referred me to a sex therapist, whom I still see to this day, that helped me realize my problem was not physiological, but psychological.

Years later after the divorce, and counseling, around the abuse, and other issues, all I can say is that my mind and body are in a better place.  My vagina? Well it works… all too well some days; In fact, when it should be minding its own business! I have come to terms with who I am, why I accepted less than what I should have, and why I have struggled with settling.  I have learned to expect more from my partners and also believe that I am worth everything that I feel I deserve.  I have become more discerning with where and with whom I invest my time. I am no longer afraid to walk away from any situation or individual that merits me doing so.  Should I ever be married again would I go to any lengths to save my marriage? Yes, but in a completely different manner, I would cross the earth and back on my knees in prayer.

Originally published 11/9/16

 

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Finding the Strength to Truly Forgive

Forgiveness is a common theme in movies, books, songs, plays, and the like.  But what is forgiveness, what is its purpose, and what does it look like?  Forgiveness, by dictionary standards, is the act of forgiving, or the state of being forgiven.  Its purpose may vary based on the affect it is having on your life.  What it looks like will and should vary from person to person.  Our forgiveness of others should never be based on anyone else’s opinion of what that should look like, but what feels right for us.  

My personal road of and to forgiveness began in 2012.  If you read my previous blog on how to help a friend or family member in a domestic violence situation, then you know that I am a survivor.  What you may not know is that during the process of our divorce, I became somewhat of a perpetrator of the same violence I was vying to escape.  I was verbally and mentally abusive to my ex husband.  I had no idea at that time but I was full of anger, and disappointment with him and myself.  My ex and I both sought counseling after and during our divorce in an attempt to uncover our issues, so that we could in the end be parents and help prevent our children from stumbling on the same road.  

Once the divorce was finalized and we were finally physically separated I made every effort to avoid dealing with him.  Despite counseling and prayer I would still become angry very quickly whenever we had a conversation.  For the longest time I said and believed that I forgave him, but the reality was I hadn’t.  I still harbored anger and bitterness towards him.  To make matters worse we have three children together that were caught in the middle of this occasional fire storm.   The only part of the situation I handled properly most of the time, was not speaking ill of their father in front of them.  Over time my children began to develop the understanding that their father and I couldn’t get along for more than a set period of time.  This was based on nothing more than the fact that I was living in denial of the fact that I was being unforgiving.  I was also reinforcing this idea by constantly repeating it casually to my children when they would make different requests of me.

Aside from the fact that my children were suffering which I refused to acknowledge at times, I was suffering.  Even though I was living and moving forward with my life it was merely a new life trapped in a three years ago mentality.  Then the unthinkable happened.  Despite always providing a stable or semi-stable environment for my children I was faced with homelessness.  In the summer of 2014 rents across the nation skyrocketed.  When I received word that my rent would be going to an unlivable amount I did the only thing I could do which was give notice.   Unfortunately, when the time came to move I had nowhere to go.  The only slight comfort I had was that my children could stay with their father.  To my surprise he offered his home to me as well.

Now granted for the women who vehemently declared often that we had a time limit on being in each other’s presence, and our ability to get along it never occurred to me that this was a self fulfilling prophecy.  Initially I declined the help, and ultimately due to fear of losing my children I accepted, which turned out to be the greatest decision I made this year.  Even though I made a conscious attempt to only be there the days the children would normally be with me, circumstance some days presented me with no other choice.   I found that little had changed for me being in the same house.  The fear was still very real, and soon the familiar night terrors returned.  I was restless and uncomfortable, whether or not my ex-husband was someone I truly needed to fear anymore was irrelevant to the fear that still lingered in my mind.

I’m certain some of you are wondering why not ask a friend or family member for help, but family was not an option, and I did not want to over burden my friends.  That unstable moment although brief, also thrust me into depression.  The moment that I realized I was doing my children an unspeakable disservice was a private conversation I had with my ex after I commented in front of him that we have a time limit.  He wanted to know why I would perpetuate such a lie with them, and prevent them from being able to heal from the situation and see what forgiveness looks like from the two most important people in their lives?  I had no answer for this, it had been my mantra, it was my veil to protect myself from him or so I thought.  The open handed slap reality of that conversation forced me to consider what was I really doing?  Could we not get along?  After all I was staying in his home, and did so for over two months, without so much as an ill spoken word.  The confrontation I anticipated never happened, there was never even a finger pointed towards me in anger.  

So what was my deal then?  I had to ultimately face myself and admit that I was still wallowing in the past and I refused to accept that he was any different.  Not only was I stuck in my fear and anger, but I was stuck there alone.  All my ‘I need to be friends with him for my kids,’ and ‘I forgave me him because I don’t want to build resentment towards my children’ was just my self-indulged martyrdom, as the ex wife of an abusive man.   Now honestly not all abusive men will go to the lengths of my ex.  They will not dig themselves out and discover the reasons why they are abusive or make a solid serious attempt to change and follow through with that change.  

Logically it seems like the next step would be to just say I forgive you or something long drawn out and symbolic to represent that and move forward with life.  But before I could forgive him I had to forgive myself.  It was easier for people to admire that I seemingly forgave him; after all we went through then to actually complete the task and deal with myself.  You see I couldn’t let go of what happened because I still harbored resentment towards me for what I felt I allowed.  I could constantly relay to myself what things I would not have to deal with now I had not allowed that then.  The worries that I let dominate my thoughts about my children and their futures and what a mess I have probably made.  Even the PTSD and anxiety, the mental scars that loiter and require my acceptance because there is little to be done to control them outside of my ongoing conversation with God.  

So what did my forgiveness feel like?  Freedom.  It is so cliché when people make reference to a weight lifting off their shoulders but there is no truer reference.  It is impossible to acknowledge what is weighing you down until you let go of it.  It is no different then finally turning on a light in a dark room and seeing everything you didn’t know was there.  My anger, my resentment, my fear played a role in my life but they never deserved a permanent position.  Once I forgave myself God was able to show me the weight he carries because he has never forgiven himself for the way he hurt me.  

I learned that sometimes God has to let us suffer a little so we can see how we are hurting ourselves and those we love.  There are some who will continue to harbor discontent towards him on my behalf, or maintain a lack of understanding for how I could ever come to a place of forgiveness after all the I endured.  While I appreciate the empathy it is truly a wasted effort to hate anyone on my behalf, because you prevent the freedom you need to succeed in your own lives.  But, the Beatles said it best all you need is love, and after all is that not what Jesus declared his greatest commandment, “love one another’?   Be blessed, be loved and be Loving.

Keisha D.

Originally Published 10/27/16

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Learning the Art of Letting Go

Letting go of things has always been either extremely easy or difficult with no real in between.  The one element that has always made it hard for me to let go is my desire to keep my word, which sometimes dissolves into loyalty. Loyalty, that at times was often misdirected and one-sided. Despite the anguish and turmoil of my marriage I remained loyal and committed until, to my detriment, I became suicidal.  I also maintained friendships, and even employment in amidst unacceptable treatment and circumstances.

Getting divorced was a two-fold victory, even though it was part of an uphill battle.   I proclaimed my freedom but also my value in that process.  I was asserting what I felt I did or did not deserve, even though I did not yet have a firm grasp on the belief in that.  My marital relationship was a commitment that I had no intention of walking away from initially.  I attempted to get my ex into counseling, together and alone, as well as counseling for myself.  In the end things continued to get worse and I knew it would never improve.  I took breaking this relationship hard because I felt that I had disappointed God.

After many guilt filled nights some time spent in my bible showed me that my ex, was not and had never loved or cared for me as God commands.  Furthermore even though I was to submit to him, I was to submit myself first and foremost to God.  He, however, refused to be in submission to God.  There was no way to continue in a marriage where our beliefs were not aligned and I was subject to abuse of any nature at any time.   This helped give me a greater sense of peace, especially when he called my relationship to God into question and attempted to use my Christianity against me by reminding me that God hates divorce.  I firmly asserted that God hated our marriage more, lol.

The second major exodus in my life was leaving my long time employer.  I had been with the company for 15 years at the time I chose to part ways with them.  I had mistreated for at least half of those years, well paid, but disrespected.  It is almost as if they believe that the money was to also compensate for the mental and emotional strain associated with being their employee.  As my level of education increased my ability to be promoted within the company decreased.  In my last year of employment there, they had once again hired our direct supervisor from outside of the company.  Our supervisor was as usually grossly inept and emotionally unstable.  He would fly into fits of rage, yelling at me and other staff. He was controlling and micromanaged every aspect of my day calling me repeatedly, some days invoking so much stress and anxiety that I was unable to perform my job duties.

Before I quit I attempted to move into another department or position.  I was so stressed and anxious I couldn’t even pass a 35wpm typing test.  My hands shook all the time and I had reached a point where I could no longer leave work at work.  I spent time discussing with myself how would I be able to do things I needed to do, for my kids in particular without the money I was currently making? Similar positions with other organizations had a salary that was nowhere near comparable.

Eventually I determined that my mental health and my family, whom I was sacrificing for deserved better from me.  I was bringing all of my work stress home and peace no longer existed in my life.  I gave two weeks notice and accepted the very first job I was offered at more than a 50% pay cut.  I worked that high flying adventure for two years until I felt it was time to move on.  This time despite my affinity for commitment, I had no qualms about moving on with my life.

I spent 15 years in my relationship/marriage before I demanded change. I also spent 15 years with my previous employer before I sought out change. After 15 years of getting wrong I decided I would never wait that long again to either try to improve a situation or move on from it.  I learned that while I am inherently loyal, not every individual and situation deserves your loyalty.  While I don’t believe that people are disposable, replaceable, and burning bridges is a necessity to move on with life.  Moving forward in love and your own best interests at heart is a necessity.

I believe that God gives us all visions and dreams and passions.  Somewhere in the course of life we are taught to shy away from our passions unless they are aligned with making large amounts of money, which in the end does not equate to large amounts of peace or happiness.  After 15 years of melodrama, disappointments and degradation I finally began to chase my dreams, and walk into my passions.  Now that I have learned it my only goal is to master the simple art of letting go.

Originally Published 10/19/16