Preference

Isn't it the norm, especially near the beginning of a relationship, for the couple to prefer one another?  To have eyes first and foremost for the partner in the relationship?  

That disappeared rather quickly in the months leading up to the wedding, though I ignored the signs.  Slowly but steadily bumped, bumped, bumped on the priority list.  One on-time airport pick-up and then running late to not checking the time and my having to take a bus.  Christmas mornings with gifts I ended up buying for myself, and one when I stopped doing that and there were no gifts.  Birthdays, many many many with barely an acknowledgement.  Forget Valentine's Day and anniversaries.  If I didn't make the effort, nothing happened.       

One that bothered me the most was regarding dancing.  I love dancing, and during courtship he was a great partner, seemingly proud to hold me in his arms whatever the dance.  After that, I had to coax or even plant myself in front of him...and along came the critiques.  Many corrections and the eradication of dancing for the fun of it.  When he taught others, he shooed me away into the other room versus using me as his demo partner.  The rapid dive in dancing attentiveness mirrored every other area of our lives.

No spontaneous affection.  If I didn't hug, there weren't hugs.  If I didn't kiss...if I didn't initiate anything affectionate, then it didn't happen.  No hand-holding, no reaching for me or cuddling.  And no spark in the eye for me - I refused to acknowledge it from early on but couldn't ignore it because there was a definite warmth and extra pizazz whenever he spoke or was around his mother and sister.

The Lord has reassured me time and time again of the spark He has in His eyes for me, the delight and pleasure He finds in me, and the regard He has for me.  That communication has sustained me. 

You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD,
and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.
You shall no more be termed Forsaken,
and your land shall no more be termed Desolate,
but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her,
and your land Married;
for the LORD delights in you,
and your land shall be married.

and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
so shall your God rejoice over you.

Isaiah 62:3-4, 5b

I'd like to know what it is like to be cherished. preferred. to be considered and regarded.  Outside of my Heavenly and earthly Father, I have never experienced that through a man.  I thank God for both of my Dads being constant in their love for me.  I embrace the healing taking place in my heart and look forward to rebuilding towards wholeness, that I'll never again accept the damaging type of pseudo-love into my life again.  The chain of inconsiderate, neglectful men in my life is broken NOW.  By God's grace I will give and receive His kind of love.  Amen.

Thoughts Sparked From A Book

I read a review for a book that intrigued me and checked it out here in Virginia.  Within a few chapters, I found myself filled with dread...a much more emotional response than I ever remember having to a fictional story.

On a fairly ordinary day, a woman is abducted by a stranger and taken to live way up in the mountains.    Her identity is taken away.  Her success and career no longer matter. There are many new rules governing her life now.  She ends up having a baby with her abductor and is tormented by his treatment of the frail child.  Though there are moments of calm and sometimes enjoyment in her captivity, they are few and quickly erased by the horror of her new reality.  She seizes an opportunity to slay her abductor and flees.  In the process of rebuilding her life, working with a therapist as well as the police who are trying to figure out all the details of the abduction, she discovers that her life was not what she thought it was.  There had been break-ins and previous attempts to abduct her, which she had dismissed at the time.  Her boyfriend had been unfaithful with her closest friend.  Family members had worked against her professionally, tearing her down.  But the worst was her discovery through the police investigation that her mother had set up the kidnapping.  Unforgiveness for a childhood mistake as well as jealousy and competition were the reasons behind this horrific betrayal.  As she's being taken away to jail, the mother insists that her daughter drop all charges to protect her name and reputation.  The daughter walks away.

Yikes.  Obviously my story is different.  But there are many similar elements.

In several chats I've had with a close friend whose husband left her, a startling word came up several times.  Numbness.  I know that word too well.

In my experience, there was so much conflict, discomfort, lack of agreement and upheaval from the time of the wedding that eventually I shut down.  We couldn't walk into Walmart without an argument breaking out.  He insisted on a purple shower curtain (his favorite color).  I acquiesed but protested when he wanted a dark green trash can for the bathroom (his second favorite color).  They didn't look good together.  He claimed that I was already limiting his creative freedom.  What about what I liked or wanted?  I primarily cooked Asian style food with a lot of vegetables, and he suddenly claimed an allergic reaction to all things soy related.  From food to recreation (football season took top priority in all activities) to how I looked, there was constant pressure to yield to his way.  He hated my shoes.  He made disparaging remarks and yucky faces when I put on make-up, especially my signature red lipstick.  My belly ring disgusted him.  And there was the refrain comparing me to his sister...  The two of them had a private club.  Inside jokes, telephone calls at all hours of the day to discuss the most mundane details of their day, making plans for the two of them with me as a tag-along.  My first time in NYC (their hometown), we spent the day going to obscure places so that his sister could get chicken wings and fulfill other whims.  Along the way, they pointed out that Broadway was a block over or that Central Park was across the way...  I was promised shopping but somehow there never was time for it.  Even after I slipped down subway steps, the aimless walking continued until the evening when we ended up back at her apartment.  I was in too much pain to walk up the four steep flights of stairs, so they left me in the car for over an hour while he "quickly" looked at something on her computer.  All this the first few months of marriage.  But the patterns continued.

(Almost twelve years later, I still have not seen any of the sites in NYC though we've been up north numerous times.  He wanted to take our daughter into the city, but I said I had to get the tour first.  Again and again he wanted to take her for a visit to his mother's and into the city - my stipulation stood.  He never planned a trip for me.  Finally, I agreed because I didn't want her to miss out.  This year, a promise to take our daughter to Paris popped up out of the blue.  Another trip that will never be except that I will give it to myself.)

Tired of the fighting and wanting to feel a part of a family, I tried to become like his in order to be accepted.  A few years ago, I finally came to the realization that I'd never be "in" and stopped trying.  The criticisms were always going to come no matter what I did. 

The numbness is kind of similar to the Stockholm Syndrome to me.  When you get worn out and down by the stress and discomfort of the circumstances you're in, you have to find another way to cope.  You convince yourself that perhaps the other way isn't so bad.  Maybe the treatment will be better if you go along with it versus fighting against it.  But doing this makes you numb.  It robs you of your autonomy.  As a living being, things can be buried for only so long before surfacing.  Waking up in your life, as jarring or uncomfortable as it can be, is good.  Being a full participant, cognizant and honest are necessary.  I've missed the vibrant me that surfaced for brief periods before going back under the gloom.  I like her.  A lot.  I've missed the curvy, spunky girl that hid for years under the weight of unhappiness and neglect.  I'm not afraid of living anymore.  I'm no longer apologetic for being expressive me.  I'm a goofball.  Romantic.  Both practical and whimsical.  I like sparkles and dressing from different eras.  False eyelashes and bright lipstick.  I'm quiet and reflective, passionate and fiercely loyal.  When the weight started coming off this January (60 pounds as of now!), I recognized the long-hidden me again.  And I must say, I think she's lovely.

Finding Refuge in My Father's House

I'm sitting in the living room of my father's home, pondering this life.  The children and I have been here for a week, and it has been a welcome reprieve from the pressures/stresses/frustrations of the same-old, same-old mess. 

I thank God for the various gigs He provided for me in the last two months - they've enabled me to purchase the necessary summer items for the kids as well as the money for our trip needs.  Yet it is beyond maddening that there is no additional income coming in while he waits for an offer.  The waiting time in previous years lasted 19 months and  this current one is coming up on two and a half years.  Out of eleven and a half years, seven have been with steady employment with benefits.  The rest of the time...living below the poverty level.  I've worked very hard to shield my children from the underside of this level of living, BUT I can hardly stomach that they've been exposed to this when it is a matter of continual bad choices versus necessity that's dictated the circumstances.  I guess that people revert back to what is familiar and comfortable to them.  The kind of lifestyle my former spouse and his family members seem comfortable living is opposite to what I find appealing and acceptable.  For example,we lived for a year in his sister's house where the front door was inaccessible and the main bathroom didn't function.  To gain entrance, you had to go around to the back door or down concrete stairs to the basement. To shower or use the facilities, we had to go all the way to the basement, two floors down from the bedrooms.

My father would never let things like that linger - he is a man of action who takes care of things immediately.  And in his home, I feel taken care of and that our needs are met.  I feel safe and secure.  Untroubled for now. 

I don't know how the next few months will unfold and what the future looks like.  I am trusting God to slowly fill in the picture and direct me.  That my kids and I will live in a peaceful, tidy home. Stable. Secure.

 

No cursing, yelling neighbors. No more dysfunctional bathrooms and gross kitchen cabinets you wouldn't put food or dishes in.  No more welfare and rude cashiers who rub your face in it when you present your food stamps card.  No more tolerating poverty and barely enough. No more messy, careless living.  Not for me and for my children.  ^"I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely, and in Him I [confidently] trust!" Psalm 91:2

Shifting Sand

1.  He had a degree and a decent job when he asked her to marry him.  Then he decided that he needed to do other things and left the job, dabbling in this and that.  The addition of children did not hinder his wandering from scheme to scheme, temporary this and that, this master of his own destiny.  No health insurance.  Dodging bill collectors. Bankruptcy. Foreclosure. Baby number one and two, moving around and around, no plan or preparation.  The imminent arrival of baby three.  Her family is angry. disgusted. frustrated that he doesn't see his irresponsibility and selfishness.

2.  He had a degree and a decent job when he asked her to marry him.  Then he decided that he needed to do other things and left the job, dabbling in this and that. The addition of children did not hinder his wandering from scheme to scheme, temporary this and that, this master of his own destiny.  No health insurance.  Dodging bill collectors. She has been diagnosed with an incurable disease and has maybe a year or so to live. He is angry and in denial, incapable of responding to or providing for the immediate needs she has as her condition rapidly deteriorates. Her best friend's husband installs the safety bars and does the work to protect her.  Her children are lost in their grief as Dad has checked out and Mom struggles...her speech is now slurred, her body in constant pain, and she worries about their future. Her family is angry. disgusted. frustrated that he doesn't see his irresponsibility and selfishness.

These scenarios are a picture of my past (#1) and the possibility of my future (#2), but neither are actually about me. 

Ironically, the angry family members in scenario #1 are my mother-in-law and my husband.  The man is my sister-in-law's husband. They are outraged at the behavior and choices of this man.  How dare he put her and the children through this mess? What about their future? Where will they live? How will he provide? Yet, the mismanager of my own household has walked an eerily parallel path. 

The couple in scenario #2 are new friends about 10 years older than me.  That cannot be me in a decade, still living this shaky lifestyle.  I refuse to allow the prophetic image of scenario #2 to occur in my life.

I was just like the dutiful wives of the fellows in the scenarios above.  Supportive. Encouraging. Seemingly content to put my needs/desires/preferences on the back burner. Except that the damage and destruction in every area of our lives became impossible to ignore. If I continued on as the long-suffering wife of this foolish man, then perhaps the accolades of the proper Christian wife would continue to be mine. 

Whatever. 

I would rather have a righteous life with a heart undefiled before my God, no matter the external judgments or pressure.  

The schemes and abrupt life changes, a sign I missed in the beginning of our lives together, have not ceased coming at me. The switcheroos. Never consulting me.  Our first apartment: we found one near work that was nice, then he decided to rent one further away while I was out of the country that was dirty and too small.  Our honeymoon was supposed to be in Paris, until he decided suddenly that he wanted us to go there at a later time.  He had no alternative plan, just this firm decision to cancel the dream, and we didn't go anywhere on our honeymoon.  Paris has never materialized. We went through the process of being missionaries with an organization working in Europe. After the process was nearly complete (a year and a half of planning/preparing), he decided that we should also go to Africa. My own experience as a missionary, the protocol in raising support, the commitment we'd signed didn't matter to his idea of "maximizing" our opportunity. Nothing can convince him otherwise when he gets an idea. He agrees to something until he decides something else.

It's interesting to me that the pressure "to keep our family intact," "to make choices that benefit the family," "to put the kids first" rests all on my shoulders. "I am destroying our family."

I say that the destruction has been happening for a long time. That every bad decision he made stepping right over me as I cried and pleaded with him to reconsider further damaged the stability and security of our present and future.  He's never honored the sacredness of unity in our marriage, bringing his mother and sister in as confidants from the beginning of our marriage. My requests for privacy were not respected.  They know everything about everything and have an opinion about it all.  He has been more intimate with them from the beginning than with me, his wife.  I would not have married him if I had known that he was already married to them - and I really mean that. He decides something, discusses it with them and gets their agreement, and then does it.  He really doesn't care whether or not I agree with it.  Soooooo, ultimately he is more married to them than he is married to me and I choose not to live like this anymore.  I will consult God about my life and my children.  Depend on Him. Live in peace. Live with honor. I will stand on the solid Rock that is God alone.