Bobbi, you push me to new realms of inappropriate self-exposure! (Not THAT kind!) Seriously, it has been a hell of a year, and I have spent way too much time in a shell.
I actually found my shell back in August of 2006. I met a man who swept me off my feet, and the rest, they say, is history. Gifts, suppers, lavish spending, and all the right words (I love you. Let me take care of you. Stay. Stay...") got my head spinning with such Linda Blair ferocity that when, 6 weeks into our courtship, he proposed with a very expensive ring, and told me he would follow me to my next call (church), I felt I couldn't say no. I'd be nuts, right? Wasn't that what every woman wanted? A man who would give up all he had and throw himself at her feet?
Hmm. Well, the problem with fairy tales is that they are just that: Fiction. I will not get into the minute details of my (second) bombed out marriage, other than to say I felt my personality being torn out of my body, in giant, violent rips. Every day. (No, he didn't hit me, but there were days I wished he would, so I could call it what it was: abuse, and GTFO.)
I've never been a wimpy woman. In fact, I have purposely challenged myself to new experiences that are unorthodox for women, and I've successfully befriended many great men, and I don't fear any of them. So, this fear thing was new, and it really did a number on me. My independence was slipping out of my hands. I felt captive, controlled, monitored, manipulated, and humiliated.
The humiliation part is interesting. That is one way to get control of someone: humiliate them. I have been screamed at at parties, in my home, running down the street, and you name it. I've left social gatherings for fear of humiliation... It works, people. Never underestimate its power.
After my son was born, I realized that it was one thing to give up my own life, but I had no right to expose my baby to that kind of mindset. Who would he turn out to be? Would he end up hating women? Would he find me a disgusting wimp? Would he, too, be abusive and self centered? Of course. So, I packed up many of my belongings. Left my ocean front home, my vehicle, my friends, my neighbors, and moved back to Lucien Dr.
It was a huge piece of humble pie to bite into. I felt I had nothing to give my son, monetarily. I felt like a failure. Like the earth should open it's jaws and just swallow me whole. I was on maternity leave, thankfully, so I had time to work through my feelings with some modicum of privacy. I also had a lot of time to shame myself and wallow in self pity and anger. No good.
What is good, though, is this: I am no longer wallowing in anything. I am no longer angry at my ex, because I see him for who he is, and I have stopped expecting anything different.
This is my time. I'm getting back on my feet, raising my son like the strong amazon I am, and rediscovering the self that was lost; passionate, fiery, insane, intense, gentle, in lust/love with God, and more than a bit a bit whacked. I am also rediscovering love... But more about that later.
