despite the fact that my period came early & i was utterly unprepared for the ensuing cramps that had me bent over my desk at work, i was in the most spectacular mood on tuesday. since i am normally so cranky, i had no idea why, but then i realized it was november 9th.

15 years ago, on november 9th, i donned a beautiful, borrowed white dress, allowed a “professional” make-up artiste to apply too much make-up to my innocent, young face, wore my hair piled high atop my head in gloriously huge jersey girl curls, ignored all the red flags i had so carefully buried, promised my father i wanted to go through with it despite his numerous assurances it wasn’t too late to back out, swallowed my doubts, and gladly began my walk down The Aisle which, in turn, led me down a path of unfulfilled promises & despair – yes folks, i got married. thanks to disney’s incessant barrage of evil propaganda aimed at young girls, it was all i ever dreamed of as a child & young woman- i never had any real intentions of having a career and actually making my way in life on my own. i was a sweet, but spoiled suburban princess and i just wanted to get hitched, have babies, be a wife, a mommy, & live wealthfully ever after. and i thought i was going to do exactly all that, but early on, perhaps during the cocktail hour that he went to without me, or the reception during which he danced primarily with his mother (i hope they are very happy together now), or maybe it was during the brawling on the honeymoon, it became apparent i had made a huge mistake (oh, and the honeymoon was over, literally, after hitting that poor deer on the way home from the airport. omen, much?). i obviously hadn’t thought it all the way through. clearly, i had married the wrong man for me – sure he looked great on paper – nice jewish boy from a good family, smart, decent enough looking, had the potential to make a lot of clams, and truly seemed liked he would make a good bug handler, occasional diaper changer, burgler beater-upper, light bulb changer (still waiting on that one), & bill payer. sure, his idea of dressing up was the fancy tee shirt. sure, he wore high top velcro reeboks and liked terrible music he demanded i listen to, but i could change him right? and i had already invested 5 of my best firm bodied years on shaping & molding this lump of clay into what i thought was the perfect future. and i had absolutely no idea that what i thought was the truest of love was really just pathetic and desperate co-dependence.

fast forward through 12 lonely years of a marriage to an addict in which there was constant oppression, neglect, emotional abuse, physical intimidation, and general assholishness. it was a devastating death of my dreams & hopes for the future in which i learned i was considered merely a possession to be owned & controlled, bought & sold, and placed in a corner when not needed. then add another 2 years of a nasty, messy divorce (which is exactly how i always knew it would go down when the time came) and the birth of what my mother claims is an alcohol problem (mr. schmirnoff  & i disagree). the weight of my misery rendered me unrecognizable: i had become isolated and cut myself off from family & friends. i tried to throw myself into motherhood and running my home but it just wasn’t enough. i hated holidays and reunions and felt ragefully jealous of those around me whom i perceived to be happy. i refused to travel & go on vacations because it was all just such an unpleasant endeavor with an eternally miserable person. and i was soooooo wasteful during my marriage-  because i could be – money was all he gave me, because he wasn’t capable of love. so i would shop to fill the raw emptiness in my gut and then i would get rid of things on a whim without a thought as to future need (god, i wish i had half the stuff i gave away over the years or sold for 99 cents on ebay). i would knowingly spend way too much on one item thinking, “so there! take that, you asshole,” as i handed over the credit card. i led a desolate existence even thought there was so much abundance. but the thing is, i won’t miss any of it. of course, that’s not hard for me because i do have plenty of things from the marriage & i thank god i can tell you i won’t go hungry, but i just don’t care about any of the material possessions anymore. not the lexus, the 3500 square foot house, the vacations, the expensive meals (my mother used to insist i go out with him for Date Night & i would ask her why she wanted to punish me), the $200 pairs of jeans, diamonds, gold, or the money. because without a loving partner & happy family, none of it meant a damn thing to me – it all just became items with a resale value on ebay. i finally realized i did not have a price, i could not be bought! it was a feeling of empowerment i never had. and then The Asshat’s worst fear was realized -  he no longer had any control over me. and let’s face it, no one can control you unless you allow it.

you know, many single people think being with anyone is better than being alone, but there is nothing more lonely than being tethered to someone who could care less about you. who pays no attention to you, nor acknowledges you when you speak, or doesn’t even look up from what he is doing when you enter a room. someone who can’t even muster the effort to say hello or goodbye, pretend to laugh at a joke, give you one compliment, or show you a morsel of gratitude, or won’t even touch you. to be with someone who goes to concerts instead of spending holidays or your birthday with you and can’t be bothered to plan one evening out together to do somehting you like. someone who makes his disdain for your family clear to you and them, while also systematically alienating every friendship you ever had as a couple. i used to mark off each year that my anniversary passed as one more year of my life wasted in misery with a man who never truly loved me, but now i mark it as a day of freedom. beautiful, glorious, peaceful freedom. i can now celebrate is as the un-doing of a mistake, the un-niversary of  a poor choice.

a bad marriage is carried around like a terrible secret, a huge burden that is ultimately shouldered alone. the shame of the realization i was married to an addict and i was the enabler combined with the disappointment of the way my marriage turned out was unbearable. and while i was mired in that humiliation, my oppressor came very close to breaking me. nearly convincing me, i was the problem, i was crazy and i needed help. and i tried so hard to make it work, to suck it up until the girls went to college, but one day i realized i couldn’t do it anymore – i would just end up empty & used up, a mere shell of myself like the military wife in american beauty who sat at the table staring straight ahead at nothing, dead inside from a life of oppression at the hands of a dictator husband. worst of all, what if my girls followed in my footsteps and ended up in the same kind of marriage?  that was my greatest fear & the ultimate motivating factor to leave. but even near the end of the marriage, i still made insane attempts to stay & make myself happy. while clinging to the edge of the precipice desperately with only my fingernails, i did things i never thought i would to keep hanging on any way i could. i did fall into a chasm of delirium temporarily but, that “insanity” is what finally got me out and i haven’t regretted a single thing, not even for a moment. and when i finally did reach my breaking point where i just knew it was never going to change and i just didn’t care anymore and i was done talking about it and working on it, i finally was just over it and i knew i was finished, i somehow gathered the strength to say out loud that it was over. (i actually remember during the third & last round of marriage counseling, which is a big fucking joke, because once you are there it’s essentially too late, the utterly useless therapist asked me in a private session if i even wanted to save the marriage and without a moment’s hesitation, i answered with a  resounding no). ultimately though, he was the one to file first – i think he wanted to beat me to the punch. i was served with divorce papers at my home, in front of my children, within 48 hours of telling him i wanted a separation. and while marveling at the speed at which it happened, i couldn’t help but wonder if he had an attorney on retainer because he knew too, that i was finally done and the day was coming soon when i would tell him so. i walked upstairs to my bedroom, read the papers and the scathing accusations they contained in utter disbelief, cried for about 20 minutes and then felt glorious relief. it was finally over. i had struggled with the decision to leave for over 10 years and he had set me free! he did it for me! i felt gratitude wash over me as i prepared to walk away willingly from the comfort of a life with the only man i had been with for 15 years . i was ready to leave it all  just for the mere chance at happiness.

last year at this time, i was holed up in my guest room with my 2 girls at my side like a family of immigrants in some dysfunctional dorm room watching full house reruns. as we slept 3 across in my trundle bed (mommy in the crack, of course) behind a closed door, 10 feet down the hall lived a mentally ill, malevolent, pot smoking ogre who was prone to tantrums and fits inside a deadbolted lair from which the smell of “incense” continuously wafted. every night before drifting off into a vodka induced slumber, i would pray for the ogre’s untimely demise – perhaps a smoting by dragon or being eaten alive by a pack of transient wildebeasts, and for my incarceration to end. after living imprisoned in my own life for 12 years, i had to live through another 2 in a jail cell in my own home with a warden that tirelessly tried everything in his power to keep me on death row for eternity. he would stop at nothing to try to destroy me trying to take my money, my possessions, my children, my freedom, & my pride. and i summoned a courage and strength to fight him that i am sure he never imagined i could or would possess. he always undervalued and underestimated me and that became my greatest weapon in the War of The Asshats.

this past june 21st was my divorceiversary – the day i was truly emancipated thanks to a combined succession of 5 lawyers and a terribly lengthy, exasperating, & expensive legal process that finally forced the divorce’s end – the ogre would have let it go forever but was finally slain by my lawyer  (it’s no secret, that i have a huge crush on him). and i have never known a peace like this in my entire life. i had never lived so deliciously alone and been in complete control of everything in my life. after high school, i left my parents’ home for dorms and apartments with inconsiderate college roommates, i returned home to live with my parents after college where i manifested my 16 year old self again, after a year, i moved into an apartment with the aforementioned fucking jackass who said he wouldn’t marry me unless i did, and then i moved to my marital home. in my entire existence, i  was never free to run my own life, make my own decisions, have any say in the finances, or breathe without someone’s approval. so, you can see, how the simple acts of paying bills, leaving lights on when i chose and setting the thermostat to any degree i want are all pure heaven. my leftovers are there when i wake up the next day. i can leave my cell phone on the counter and it will be there when i return for it and it will be dry. i can leave my purse out and my cash will still be there when i open my wallet. i no longer have to try to get to my mail first or tote around a huge purse with my garage door opener, cell phone charger, jewelry, ipod, personal papers, and anything else i hoped to keep. i no longer flinch at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, share the dvr, or share anything for that matter. i don’t have to listen to music that makes my ears bleed (well, other than the jo-bros) or pretend to give a shit about someone’s day. oh, and the bed – it’s all mine. no one waking me up with their sleepless seismic activity or snoring loud enough to annoy corpses (oh, how often had i had fantasized about what i could do with a well placed pillow?). i never again to have to play personal assistant in a life of indentured servitude to an ungrateful moron. i don’t have to stroke an ego or look at anyone’s flab other than my own in disgust. i don’t have to find hairs on the floor, toothpaste globs mixed with shaving cream gunk in the sink, or petrified snot on the shower walls. i don’t have to hear someone hocking loogies in the kitchen garbage can or coughing up pot induced mucous from his lungs that i kept hoping would fail. in short, i don’t have to live with an absolute pig anymore. if there is dirt, it is my dirt, if there are dishes in the sink, they are my dishes, if there is an ass impression on the couch, is it on my couch from my ass (and we all know what a  great ass i do have). i now have a deep appreciation for life & the things that fill it in a way i never did. i live my life fully and enjoy every day as much as i am able. i laugh and feel a warped gratitude to The Asshat every single day for setting me free.

i certainly have no intentions of marrying again because i think marriage just ruins a perfectly good relationship, and i just can’t see how number 2 would turn out any differently. i hate other women’s husbands for them.  i joke a lot about being bitter, and sure, i probably am to some extent, but i have never been so happy in my life as i am now – not even as a child. i have finally found my voice, found out who i am, and most importantly found out i love sex… mostly with strangers… but seriously folks, in my mind, a life lived in quiet desperation, always settling, continuously wondering what could have been, dreaming of “someday,” isn’t one worth living. i have watched so many people become resigned to such a life -and i was almost a casualty of it myself -  and being too scared to fight for their own happiness. being a victim is a choice. next to wasted potential, this is one of the he saddest things to me- because you only get one shot at life, my friends, and it’s yours alone to spend as you wish. you are not a doormat for your spouse, friends, kids, boss, parents, or anybody. and i pity those who realize they are miserable yet never summon the strength do something about it. you are never stuck no matter how bad things may be and i believe you get out no matter the price. your happiness is priceless. ultimately, it’s a choice to stay in a bad situation because it’s easier not to change. change is hard and terrifying. and, i, of all people get that, because it took me 12 years to make that change and someone else ultimately had to pull the plug for me. but, there were so many times during the making of that change where it would have been much easier to lay my weapons down, give up the fight, stop suffering, and crawl back to the security and ease i could have had, but it would have come at an enormous cost – my self respect & my happiness. i will always encourage those around me to be more, to want more out of life, & above all be true to themselves and fight for their lives.

the suevoltiuon ™ (a brilliant term coined by not me) continues…

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