January 19, 2024

rear view mirror

three years later..

Perhaps I attribute too much meaning to anniversary dates; recognizing them, sometimes celebrating them, reminiscing for good or bad. I celebrate personal anniversaries, album anniversaries, the anniversary of the day I broke my leg, the list goes on. Every life event or meaningful date gets a lot of thought, if not an essay about it.

Sometimes that is to my detriment. I tend to wallow when thinking about times that weren't so good, or times when I thought things were good. And here we are, coming up on the third anniversary of the day my husband walked out and I am knee deep in emotions. Which is fine, as all the thoughts I had in the past few days has led me to some clarity and, dare I say, closure.

***

I met Todd in 2006 and fell in love with him a few months later. That's fifteen years he was in my life, and three after that he's been still on my mind. When you spend so many years with someone and then they are suddenly gone, grief takes hold. It's not like I had any clues my marriage was ending. The last moments of our relationship were unceremonious, startling. If I had known he was unhappy, if I had some clues, if I paid more attention, maybe I would have been prepared. I could have pre-grieved. But the suddenness of it all didn't allow that and as such I have been wallowing and wondering ever since.

If I could describe Todd in one word, it would be charismatic. He was charming, he was gregarious, his smile lit up a room. He could show up anywhere, in a room with any amount of people, and be gregarious and funny and immediately have people drawn to him. He was the opposite of me and I guess I always hoped his personality would rub off on me, that I'd learn to be as social and happy as he was.

Instead, I lived in his shadow. I became a quieter extension of him. I was Todd's girlfriend, then Todd's wife. I was no longer just me. I stayed in the shadows, the way I did my whole life, and let him loom large. I often felt like I was smaller than him as a person, that he was there to guide me, show me, help me live my life. I used to think of this as a good thing. I was a wreck of a person when I met him, maybe he could fix me.

In the ensuing years, I let him run my life because I was often made to feel like I couldn't manage that. Everything that happened in our home was run through him first, and I let him always have the final word because I had made myself believe that his word was true and right. I had become subservient, but I didn't recognize it as that right away. I thought I was doing right for me, and for us.

There were years of walking on eggshells, of doing everything on his schedule according to his needs and wants. Relationships should not be about who is the boss, but he was the boss. Even when he started drinking again - especially when he was drinking - I would still let him rule our life. My days and nights were spent taking care of him, making sure he had his beer and cigarettes, keeping the house quiet when he was hungover, saying absolutely nothing about our situation so as not to rock the boat. It was a trying time, a hard time, and I felt like I was on my own with it. I became a wreck again; nervous, anxious, depressed, unsure of anything.

Regular readers know what happened next. He went to AA, got sober, and then made his life entirely about AA. I put up with years of abandonment and loneliness as he did his thing, and told me that I could have him drunk, or I could have him in AA, and I would just have to put up with his absence if I wanted the latter.

***

I was listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs yesterday and "Y Control" came on. I was struck -not for the first time - by the line I wish I could buy back/the woman you stole. For that's what he did. He stole my entire personality. He stole my stability. He stole 15 year of my life. And I let him.

But I am not pinning this on me anymore. I am not looking backward to see what I did wrong, where I steered the boat offshore. It was him. I fell into his trap of making me need him, of making him seem stronger and smarter and more caring than he was.

Yes, we had some great times. He showered me with gifts and vacations, but I can see now these all were in lieu of giving me his time or affection. I made him out to be this incredible guy, I made our relationship out to be perfect. I was lying to myself. Do you know what 15 year of lying to yourself does to a person?

I lost myself at some point. I let him hide me away. He stole me away and I let him, though I really had no idea what what happening until it was over and I had to reckon with it.

Gong over all this in my head, thinking about it all week, obsessing over every little detail of our life together, I came to the conclusion that what I thought was there, never was.

I can't get those years back. I can't get all that time and sacrifice back. But I can get myself, my true self, back, and I feel like I've taken a lot of steps to do that.

The truth is, him leaving me was the best thing that has happened to me. I can see this now. I'm living my best life. I feel free, I feel at ease, I feel like my life is my own. I feel like me. This is allowing me to move on, something I've been trying desperately to do for three years. And here we are, 11 days out from the three year anniversary of him abruptly leaving, and I'm feeling - for the first time in many years - a freedom, a happiness that had eluded me.

I was going to say I'm a different person now. But that's not it. I'm just being allowed to be myself, to live my life on my terms, to do the things I want to do ,and not do the things I don't want to do. I am getting back the woman he stole. And with that comes the letting go. I may occasionally listen to a sad song and feel the pull of wallowing, but it's not the same anymore. A spell has been broken. I am happy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2aTCqyFJOc&ab_channel=CheshireRabbit42***