My story–I married my ex in 1988 and had a daughter with him. I work as a teacher, he was a casino dealer, until his back problems became too much for him and he went on disability. He stayed home with our daughter while I went to work. The care he gave her was marginal…I wouldn’t say he was dangerous but: he never took her anywhere, I’d fix meals for her that he was supposed to heat up, but he would feed her pretzels for lunch. Then, when I got home from work, he would retreat to his stereo room and drink a lot of beer. When I had my daughter with me, I never knew what I was coming home to–angry drunk or happy drunk. He was verbally and psychologically abusive. I finally got the courage to take my daughter and leave. We moved to another house across town.
Even though we weren’t living together,I still let him come over and park on my couch and watch (free) cable TV and eat my food. He never spent the night and I would say he wasn’t attracted to me at all. My daughter was the reason I finally cut the ties. She hated coming home and seeing his car in our driveway. We’ve been divorced for about 1 1/2 years. (My daughter, now 15, spends Friday evening with him these days…their relationship is ok, not great.)
I wanted it to work out that’s-- why I stayed in the relationship six years after I moved out. I lost weight, took a lot of yoga classes and worked on my self esteem, hoping he would try to be a good partner. No dice.
I think I have a lot to offer and would be a good wife/partner to someone–but the idea of getting married again is terrifying to me. After 20 plus years with him, I have trust issues.
There is a lot of me in Gail’s story. I was married for 18 years to a guy who, even in the first summer we were married - and we got married in April - found many reasons to not be home. He had a vile temper, was moody. But I had made my vows and I truly believed I could make things work. Over the years, he punched holes in literally half the doors in the house and taught both of my sons to handle their anger that way. Older son took care of the other half of the doors.
But I thought I could get us through (pathetic, I know). He finally did me a favor and walked out. I’ve been divorced six years and don’t care if I never marry again. I, too, could make someone a great partner, but he had me convinced I was nothing.
So why I did it? I guess with perspective I couldn’t tell you, other than I made a vow and was willing to follow through. But he absolved me of that, jerk, that he was, and likely still is.
Seconded, except that I never learned how to dance, nor did I really try as a kid. Same basic gist, though.
But I also need to second this:
Hostile Dialect,
Hostile Dialect, Narcissist