Good Enough

The beginning of the end of my marriage came on October 22,2008. Mr. Wrong told me that he didn’t love me, hadn’t in fact, loved me in years. I should point out that up to that point, I had been completely faithful. I tried, in every way I knew, to be a good wife. He said a lot of terrible, hurtful things that day, but the most hurtful of all was “your best isn’t good enough.” I have heard that ringing in my head at every low moment I have had from that point on. You. Aren’t. Good. Enough.

This past year has forced me to examine myself in ways I never have before. At my very core. I have had to strip away every defense I have ever had, layer by painful layer, to discover who I truly am, physically, spiritually, and mentally. The person Oprah calls my authentic self. It has been a long journey, and it is by no means over. There have been parts of me that I really don’t much like, and I have had to change them. I have had to step way outside my box, my safe little comfort zone, and do things that I honestly never thought I was capable of. I have found out what I truly believe in, what I want, who I want to be. To some, this has seemed selfish of me, to take the time and energy to work on my own happiness. To me, it was that or die. I couldn’ t be the mother my children deserve if I stayed the person I was a year ago. More importantly, I need to be able to teach my girls how to be strong women. I need to be sure that my experience will never be their experience. That is vitally important for these beautiful girls who have already seen way more than they ever should.

Today, I am totally ok with my marriage being over. The thing about learning who you are is you learn the type of people you want to allow in your life. I still have a lot of anger towards Mr. Wrong, maybe I always will. You know what though? I am good enough. I always have been. If Mr Wrong or anyone else can’t see that, well, that’s their problem.

No more Miss Nice Guy

I tell ya, sometimes it just doesn’t pay to be nice.

I moved back into Mr. Wrong’s house to help him out of a crisis situation. I left a situation that was far from perfect, but it was pretty good. I fought long and hard for my independence, I finally had it. I was happy, I could breathe. I should have NEVER left.

Somehow, Mr. Wrong’s promises that he was a changed man went out the window as my suitcase came in. As my shirts and pants were placed into the drawers, his real personality was unpacked from it’s temporary storage area. The harder I tried to get along, the more obstacles and road blocks were thrown in my face. As the days turned into weeks, I began to feel the familiar acid churning in my stomach. As the weeks turned into months, the return of my insomnia assured me that there was a storm coming, it was just a matter of time.

Last Tuesday the storm hit. Mr. Wrong came home at 11 at night drunk. He then spent the next hour and a half terrorizing my children and my home. There is no way to avoid the truth any more. I married a violent alcoholic. There is no question of if he will be violent, just when. There is no question of if he will drink, because I now know for sure, he will always drink. He may not have another drink for a year or more, he may drink tomorrow, but he will drink.

After his latest display, I told him that he will have to leave. I cannot and will not make my children into human yo- yos. This is our home. We like it here. So far, Mr. Wrong has agreed to leave within a month, but I have heard that before. This time, however I will go to the authorities if necessary. You see, Mr. Wrong might not have learned anything in the past year, but I did. I learned that I am a lot stronger than I ever thought possible. He can call me whatever names he wants, he can do whatever he wants to do, I can say I’m not taking it anymore. This time, I mean it.