Anytime I talk about the issues that I have with the X, I get an outpouring of similar stories from women all over Texas. I should really be thankful; my situation isn’t half as dire as many of the other women I speak to. I know several who have dived into new relationships, telling themselves that they’re in love, but what they’re honestly looking for is security. It makes me sad and angry, and I hate that there seems to be no hope for so many women who are left with the job of raising their children while deadbeat dads dispose of them to move on to the next family.
My X does help me in other ways. Our visitation schedule is extremely flexible. When she’s sick, he’s pretty good at making arrangements until I can get to her. I don’t have to pay for daycare, which is helpful. I have to pay for transportation to the daycare, but I haven’t since he stopped paying child support in full. I guess that makes me a bad person in his eyes. I try to understand why he unleashes such venom on me whenever we have a disagreement. I’ve said quite a few things about him in the past, but from my perspective, they’re all true. He cheated. He lied. He left. Those are the facts, plain and simple. It hurt. A lot. But I lived, and everything changed, and now my life is truly mine, and not some extension of some other person’s dreams and goals.
I like that.
Maybe it’s the things I said. I know it’s probably the way I said them. But he’s said some pretty hateful crap, too, and I manage to let it go and try again. It’s like there’s this dangerous undercurrent always running beneath every strained conversation we have. He doesn’t want to look bad. I don’t want to be insulted. Between his ego and my pride, I’m starting to think that we will never resolve our differences in a peaceful manner. Just because I’ve tried to change, to watch my words, to be more civil, doesn’t mean that he has. I have such a short fuse where he is concerned, because he seems to completely disregard that maybe, just maybe, I might be having a tough time with this single motherhood thing. He can’t be bothered with that, because to be bothered by it might make him responsible for it.
“I moved on with my life, and you should too.”
Yeah, I got that. Don’t know if you noticed, but I did. But here’s the thing, and it’s not just for The X. It’s for All The X’s In The World. Just because you’re not married to your spouse anymore, that doesn’t let you off the hook for making the kid with them. Man or woman (because I know a lot of deadbeat mothers, as well.) You move on, you get a new family, you make new kids, whatever. There’s still a pair of beautiful green eyes looking up at me, and I want to give her the world. I want to show her everything, I want to share every experience I can with her, because it will all be gone so soon, and I will never be able to get that time back.
And I do not understand how anyone, man or woman, can feel that excruciating pull on their heart and ignore it.
Perhaps he thinks that all I do with the money is spend it on myself. I know many men do. And I know many men think that because so many women do that. I’d be more than happy to show him where each and every penny goes, but we’ll never be on civil enough terms to have that conversation. Appealing to his compassion is futile, because he has none.
Maybe I killed that. Maybe it was guilt on his part that killed it. Either way, it’s gone, and it’s not coming back. I accept that.
But it’s the insults he hurls at me that make me so mad at first, but when I stop and think about them, it makes me laugh because he’s such a hypocrite.
“Victim,” says my friend Meredith with a wide smile, “is the absolute LAST word I’d ever use to describe you.” I know I’m not. He wants to portray me as some whiny, bitter ex, but I know that calling him out for his responsibilities makes him very uncomfortable, so it’s easier to turn it around on me and make me the bad guy. Whatever. I’ll be the “victim,” but I think a more appropriate term for the experiences I’ve shared with this man is a “survivor.” Because I don’t sit around and whine “poor me;” I get off my ass and poke, prod and hound him until he’s irritated enough to shut me up.
“Your communication sucks when you don’t want to deal with shit.” Really? This coming from the man whose favorite communication tactic is to hurl the most hateful insult he can think of, then shut his phone off. This coming from the man who is terrified of confrontation. This coming from a man whose solution to an argument that he is losing is to either shut down completely, or shove a woman into the nearest object. The problem with my communication skills is that I don’t tell him the things he wants to hear. Confrontation is not an issue with me anymore; but I’m not getting into a screaming match with someone that I know will ultimately try to hurt me, mentally or physically. I’d say I’m pretty good at communication, but if he’s unhappy, the phone does call both ways, last I checked.
The implication that I would make my daughter suffer just to prove a point with him is also completely narcissistic. He assumes I CARE what people think of him. I don’t. I just want him to take care of his business. What kind of mother would I be to use my kid’s birthday party as a pawn in a money game? Like I would ever make a promise to that child that I didn’t think I would be able to keep??? That was a low blow, even for him. I think he’s just irresponsible and selfish, but I seriously hope he doesn’t think I’m that damn cruel to my own kid. Anyone who has seen me with my daughter knows she is my life and my heart.
I don’t understand how he can’t.
“Grow up!” This is, by far, the most hilarious thing he says. This, coming from the spoiled child who has yet to put on his big boy pants and handle his business, but has plenty of time and money to play with his toys. This from a man who cannot stand to come in last, who will HURT someone just to get the last word or last laugh. This coming from a man who is the entertainment at every event. This coming from a man who has just thrown a temper tantrum because I have asked him to take care of his business, and when he did not, our daughter is suffering from the consequences. And when I point that out, the temper tantrum gets bigger.
Growing up requires you to take care of your responsibilities, have a little empathy, and recognize that the world around you is a big place, and it does not revolve around you. I’ll admit, I may have my childish moments…. but in the long run, I’d place my track record against his anytime. I’ve worked for every single thing in my life, and no matter how many insults he wants to fling, he can’t change that fact.
I know my worth. I know my values. I know what’s important.
And it’s not him.
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Posted by Kristie