Monday, July 28, 2008
As with so many of my insights, this one occurred as I was driving home, rushing, as it turns out because I was late for the childminder after a long and stressful day at work and a manic dash round to food store.
Why is it that the last person I understand is ME, and I am the last person to understand me?
After my divorce I met Neil who lavished attention and love on me, and seemed ready to fast-forward me into a life long commitment of shared love and respect. At the time for whatever reason this appealed to me perfectly. I had longed to own my own home, I had longed for another baby, I had longed to have a shared vision of the future with a man who loved me, and somewhere in there I hoped that stability for my son would eventuate. He offered all this. We moved in together, started round after exhausting round of unsuccessful IVF, bought a house, and suddenly CRASH he's a sex addict. He has been sleeping with other women throughout our short passionate courtship. Darghh!!! What to do???? He asked me to marry him.
So this is what I did. I said yes. I put my head down. I reasoned that the proposal marked the end of his philandering ways. I pronounced that I had forgiven him - although on reflection I had not. I was full of resentment, and distracted to the point of obsession with visions of him with other women. There were jealous rages by me - possibly hormone driven, though possibly not. At this point I believe I still loved him.
I was not ready to give away the dreams I had held for so long of a home, children and a happy marriage.
So began the steady process of "letting go" I consulted COSA who reasoned against snooping. I stopped snooping, in fact I took it a stage further I decided I didn't care. He could do what he liked, I just had to worry about keeping ME sane. Incidentally about this time and maybe as a result of his 'recovery' our sex life went to custard.
Then this year, 1.5 years after disclosure but somewhat longer since my first suspicions my OB/GYN tells me at my age I only have 2% chance of a take home baby through IVF, and suddenly something gives. That important piece of the puzzle - If I can't have babies with him and don't love him properly why am I wasting his time? I am living a lie, and I now know 100% for sure that I do not want to marry him. All that is left is the lifestyle, and stability for my son. We may as well be room mates.
Enter the agent of change that is the subject of my next post...