I promise I will not necro every thread I ever made that mentioned my wife but as a radical update:
We’re getting divorced, and the whole “dyscalculia means I can’t be a photographer”, while probably not intentional excuse-making on her part, was in fact part of a marriage-long pattern of doing the following in sequence:
- Wishing to do something big
- Finding reasons to decide it’s not possible (where said reasons often weren’t actually that big a deal)
- Casting it after the fact as her “making a sacrifice” or as part of an ongoing sacrifice.
In this thread I repeated the myth that she spent many years supporting me in following my dream. That was a lie. She was always free to go to school for herself. She was always free to have no job at all. I highly encouraged her to do so in fact. That’s what school loans etc are for. But she refused, and I acquiesced. The family myth was that this was her “sacrificing” her career for mine but we both got accepted to schools in the same city. She didn’t have to give up anything and I didn’t ask her to. After giving up on her first choice of school and major, she went into teaching, which she alternately liked and hated. She went through many years alternating between characterizing this as her doing someething she doesn’t really like so I could pursue my education, and characterizing it as something she could tolerate as a career–depending on her mood she’d emphasize one or the other.
After giving up on teaching when the twins came, about a year later she “reminded” me about all the “sacrifices” she’d made (that she didn’t have to make, that I never asked her to make, that we could have done fine without, but which she insisted on because of an allergy to the word “loan”) and how I “owed” her time to follow her own dreams. After a little while she gave on that, returned to the workforce–and over time continued to paint herself as making “sacrifices”.
Eventually did get full time employment in a boring but very stable job, got on meds for extreme social anxiety, (I also was now on meds for anxiety, and ironically I think this helped each of us individually but hurt the relationship because both of us were now a little less scared to say what we really think) and started hanging out a lot more with her friends and going and doing things with them that I wasn’t particularly interested in. I was very happy to see her starting to lead what seemed to me to seem to her a much more fulfilling and fun life.
But she was home less and less.
And her time at home was less and less happy.
She started talking about how I was holding her back–despite my lifelong dedication, every time she tried to do anything for herself like pursue a dream or go on adventures with friends etc, to encouraging her and helping her with those pursuits.
I was not the one who had ever held her back. She held herself back, at the request of absolutely no one. And generally did not take responsibility for those decisions but instead made excuses or laid it on me.
Along the way she became more and more critical of how I was doing things around the house–the house she was at so rarely anymore. She wanted to be out there and free but couldn’t relinquish control of the day to day business of running a household.
And she became critical of my personal appearance – though a therapist told her, point blank, that her criticisms here were exaggerated to say the least. (Is there such a thing as body dismorphia by proxy? She would seem to honestly think my skin looked diseased when checking with neutral parties like anonymous fora or a therapist or a doctor, absolutely nothing could be found to be unusual.)
Just as I now think she was lying (to herself possibly) about the whole dyscalculia excuse, it became clear she was lying (possibly to herself? I don’t know anymore) about the things she would adduce to back up these kinds of criticisms.
One day she told me she had found eight (exact number) dirty dishes put away in the cabinet. I told her I simply didn’t believe it, and I characterized what she said as a lie. Too often she had made critical claims then said the perfect thing to back up the claim, where the back-up simply was. not. true. This happened too often. It was a pattern. And I told her that.
The next day she told me she wanted a divorce.
We had done couples therapy for about a year prior to this. During which I worked. Hard. On myself. Made many, many changes as dictated by my wife. Changes I remain happy about to this day. I also was diagnosed and medicated for ADHD, which quantifiably (I quantified it) reduced a number of annoying habits I’d had w.r.t. losing keys–a kind of mishap which bothered her to no end–etc to practically zero.
Meanwhile, though the therapist was sure my wife was working “internally”, there was to be frank no sign that she was doing any work whatsoever, or that she even believed herself to have any role in the dissolution of our relationship. She would insist she was working on the relationship–but the examples she would give amounted to throwing up obstacles and finding new things to criticize.
I’m honestly happy for her in the sense I think she did in fact need to get out, for her own sake. I’m extremely bitter towards her because she basically toyed with me for as long as she could manage, then threw me away when I had outlived my usefulness.
And I will never get an honest word from her about how the whole thing went down, because she doesn’t know how to be honest with herself, much less with others. I suspect that minds, including hers, are kind of a blank to her. She doesn’t know why she (or anyone else) does things–so she just makes shit up.
So here we are.