Why Leave?

I am watching my father care for my mother as her AD enters the late stages… Sometimes she didn’t recognize him, but lately she knows him again without question. He’s the only one she consistently recognizes. She lights up when he enters the room…My father does not deal well with any of it. He has some not desirable traits and cannot be alone. He’s stated that he will have to find someone right away, and we know he would prefer to have her in a home while he gets on with his life. And yet she still looks to him for comfort. She always facilitated his life (and everyone else’s). This is the time that your spouse needs you the most… My sisters and I are disgusted with him, and my brother pays for nursing care to keep her at home. He knows better than to fight us though, as we are his support systems She would never want to be in a home! She is now barely able to speak and he doesn’t encourage the nurses to get her up. I know he loves her in his own selfish way, but he also cheated on her many times and caused great pain and resentment.

I read this over on Chump Lady and the image filled me with sadness. The idea that this lovely woman had spent her entire life making her husband’s life more comfortable, catering to him, loving him… and when she needs him the most, when she is at her absolute most vulnerable, he is not there for her. Not really. He is resentful of the work he has to do. He wants to put her in a home and get on with his own life. He will not be putting into her care what he got out of her.

It is a frequent topic of conversation how so many cheaters, be they male or female, tend to leave when you need them the most. Stories abound of people who are deserted after a cancer diagnosis, while they’re caring for sick and aging parents (sometimes the partner’s parents), during pregnancy, shortly after childbirth, after a chronic medical diagnosis. Hell, for some it’s simply a matter of being left once you get older. God forbid you lose a limb or become disabled in some way.

Don’t we all deserve so much more? It breaks my heart to think of someone slavishly caring for another person. No task is too daunting. No request is too outrageous. Instead, they give and give and give. They continuously put their own needs and wants on the back burner to care for this person in their life. Until the day comes that they can no longer serve them. Either they are exhausted or they are worn out or just plain sick or declining in health themselves. When they look around for that person they’ve loved and devoted their lives to they see skid marks instead of their beloved. He or she has taken off because they have no intention of returning the favor. These people don’t give; they take. When you no longer serve your purpose as a handy kibble dispenser/spouse appliance, they are only too eager to replace you with a new model, one that will fawn all over them. One that will give and give and never ask for anything in return. You’re on your own.

I’ve said before that the mobster is a much better partner than CF ever was to me. From buttering my roll to running out and buying me shampoo to making me chocolate dipped strawberries or decorating the house or bedroom for me, he is always thoughtful. He thinks about what might please me.

I’ve also said I’m free to speak my mind with him. I can tell him when I’m having a bad day. He talks me down when I’m freaking out. He calms me.

With CF it always felt like a competition. If I told him how I wasn’t getting any sleep because Rock Star woke up in the middle of the night he would go on to tell me he had been woken up in the middle of the night because the alarm at work had gone off. Because being woken up in the middle of the night once is exactly like getting up at 3:30 in the morning every morning for six months. If I complained that it was difficult trying to take care of a baby, work full time, keep the house clean, do laundry, and care for 2 dogs and 6 cats, I was reminded that it wasn’t easy for him being away from us either. If I was stressing over something he treated it like a joke. When he stressed over something he was generally catatonic on the damn bed with me taking charge and solving the damn problem. When he pricked his finger on a cactus it was reason to shut down, return to the hotel room with three kids, and then demand that I sit by his side all afternoon. When I almost stepped on a snake in my damn garage I was told not to worry because it wasn’t poisonous.

Every time he was sick it was a major production. He wanted me to stay home with him because he wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t feel like I could just call off of work because my grown ass husband was sick. I went to work only to get a phone call a few hours later letting me know he had collapsed at least once (it might have been twice). It turned out he really was sick. He had a staph infection in his bloodstream which he probably got from the hospital when they did a spinal tap a week prior. He loved to lord that over me. “Remember that time I told you I was sick and you didn’t believe me?”

Yet, I had 2 miscarriages and an ectopic pregnancy and he wasn’t around for much of any of it. He did go to the doctor’s office with me when I had a sonogram done the first time I started to miscarry. He was at the hospital with me that evening when they performed the D&C on me. He also went with me when I had to go get the second shot for my ectopic pregnancy (and that was only because we were already getting ready to go to a friend’s house for a party that evening; we stopped over there on our way).

I remember going to the bathroom, wiping, and then checking the toilet paper and seeing bright red blood. I remember calling him at work in a panic, telling him what was going on. I remember heading home alone after the ultrasound because we had taken separate cars to the appointment. I remember getting the phone call from the doctor. He was so nervous; he had never met me in person and had only talked to me for the first time that morning when I called in hysterics, and now here he was, tasked with giving me the awful news that I was indeed miscarrying and that there was no hope. CF wasn’t there when I got that call. I sat at home all by myself and miscarried our baby. I remember lying on the floor, sobbing, as my stupid dog barked at me. I don’t remember if he stayed at home with me the next day after my D&C, but my guess is no, he did not.

I was by myself when I miscarried the second time. I had only known I was pregnant for about 3 days. I stayed at home and bled, while he went to work and carried on like normal.

Every test I had performed on myself to see why I was miscarrying I went to alone, with the exception of the blood test. He had to go because they wanted to test him as well. So the HSG where they shot dye into my fallopian tubes to check for a blockage, the one that resulted in burning pain that caused me to arch my back up off the table to try to get away from that pain? Yeah, I went to that one alone. And the endometrial biopsy where they snipped? scooped? a piece of my uterine lining to test it? I went to that one alone as well.

I went to appointment after appointment by myself when they were trying to find the ectopic pregnancy (or to simply confirm whether or not it was a viable pregnancy). He was never there to hold my hand as I submitted to blood test after blood test. He wasn’t there for any of the trans vaginal ultrasounds.  This continued for several weeks.

When I finally got the news that it was indeed an ectopic pregnancy I was told I needed to make a decision right then before they would let me leave the office. My choices were surgery which may or may not result in losing my fallopian tube, or the methotrexate shot. While my husband was sympathetic to my plight, and would support any decision I made, he couldn’t leave because he was in a very important meeting with Kimberly Clark. This led to my mom’s famous line, “Tell Kimberly Clark to get her own damn boyfriend!” Maybe if I had opted for the surgery instead of the shot in the ass he might have been able to make it to the hospital by the time I woke up.

All those follow up appointments I had to attend where they would draw blood and track my hcg levels to make sure they were going down? The ones where I asked the nurse if she could please use the baby needle on me because I had been stuck so many times in the last month? Yeah, I went to all of those alone as well.

Aside from the 20 week ultrasound for both kids, I’m not sure he attended a single ob/gyn appointment with me. It’s been at least 16 years so maybe he did attend each time we were supposed to hear the heartbeat finally, but I no longer remember. Him not accompanying me was much more the norm.

When I went to the genetic counselor when I was pregnant the second time I went by myself. The new doctor insisted because of the balanced translocation; it turns out I did have a slightly higher chance of having a baby with a birth defect. Hey, if I’m going to get bad news I may as well be by myself when I get it, right? Fortunately, there was no bad news, although I did find out I was having a boy that day. Too bad CF missed that moment.

Yet every time he was sick I was there by his side. I drove him to the ER. I advocated for him. I stayed with him. I asked for heated blankets and made sure he had something to drink. I spent hours at the hospital with him, sometimes at the expense of my children. And believe me, there were very few times when he got sick that it did not result in a trip to the ER. Every time that man threw up he was convinced he was dehydrated and needed to go to the ER for fluids.

Even on the rare occasion when his illness did not necessitate a visit to the ER I was checking on him, grabbing him a Sprite, fixing him a bowl of soup. I called the doctor. I made his appointments. Hell, I attended most of his appointments with him!

When I was pregnant with Picasso I had terrible morning sickness that lasted well into the second trimester. I eventually was put on medication for it. The day before Thanksgiving (or maybe that Tuesday before Thanksgiving) I was violently ill. I couldn’t keep anything down and I was puking so hard I would pee my pants. It was lovely. Add to that the fact I had a very active toddler. Miss Rock Star was almost 18 months old at that time. She very helpfully would shut the toilet lid on my head as I heaved and peed myself.

CF couldn’t leave work and help me out. He was a very important person and he was needed there at the plant. I spent the day mostly in bed, puking and trying to tend to my rambunctious toddler, hoping against all odds that she would pass out and take a nap with me so that I might rest in-between puking sessions.

Fast forward four or five years. Rock Star and I had tickets to see High School Musical On Ice. This time it was him that was sick. Picasso was a much calmer child. You could put him in bed with you, letting him watch TV while you slept. CF insisted he simply could not be left alone with him. Despite the fact that he literally would have sat in the bed beside him and watched TV the entire time. So I’m calling all around, in our new state, trying to find someone to babysit so that my daughter and I can go to this iceskating musical that we’ve had tickets to for more than 6 months. I thought I was going to have to disappoint her and tell her we couldn’t go when a friend called back and said his son was willing to leave his friend’s house and come babysit for a few hours.

I should have known then but I always told myself and others that I was a strong, independent woman and I didn’t need to have my hand held every time something didn’t go exactly as planned. It’s downright weak to need help from your partner! Other women might need their partner sitting by their feet when they miscarried, but not me. Oh no. I could handle it all on my own.

Now, twenty plus years later I’m realizing how nice it is to have someone around. I don’t need the mobster to hold my hand but I know he will. I’m not going to lie; it feels nice to have someone willing to do that.

I think what makes me the saddest about the comment that started this whole post is the fact that that poor woman spent her entire life giving and putting effort into her relationship with her husband; she spent years nurturing him and putting him first. She forgave his cheating. She strived to keep the marriage together. She probably told herself it would be worth it one day. Or, like one of my long suffering great grandmother’s liked to say, she would get her reward in heaven. Yet here she is, suffering from Alzheimer’s. Her husband is very little help. He’s focused on how hard this is on him and more concerned with finding her replacement than he is with caring for his ailing wife. She is of no use to him and is, in fact, a burden now. She requires considerable care while offering nothing to him.

Let that be a lesson. Don’t waste your time and efforts investing in those who won’t invest in you. If they aren’t doing it now you can’t count on them to do it when you really need it. Chances are very good they won’t. They’ll simply discard you and move along.

The Myth of the Sexless Marriage

I was reading a conversation over on DC Urban Moms and Dads. The original poster asked why on earth anyone would recommend Chump Lady’s site because she was so bitter, angry and negative. Several people patiently pointed out that anger is useful to get you through the initial phase of being discarded and accepting what you married. Others pointed out her tag line is: Leave a cheater, gain a life. She’s not into the reconciliation business. Eventually it meandered over into the fact that men NEED sex and that most people who cheat do so because of sexless marriages.

Well, of course they do! It couldn’t be the fact that the person has bad character. It couldn’t be the fact that the cheater lacks impulse control, or feels entitled to anything he or she desires. It couldn’t be the fact that they act like toddlers, throwing a tantrum anytime things don’t go their way. It can’t be that they are needy and clingy and are bottomless pits of need. No, it must be because their spouses (wives usually) have cut them off from sex, forcing them to cheat. They wouldn’t do this awful thing if the “refusing” spouse would simply hop into bed and participate. This is not their fault! It’s the cheated on spouse’s fault!

Why not divorce? Coz reasons! It’s no fair that if my wife cuts me off from sex and I believe that’s a deal breaker then I have to be a grown up and make hard choices. One person even put it like this:

I’m not comfortable defending the position of a cheater but…

A wife who unilaterally chooses to be sexless gives her husband a Hobson’s choice. Either cheat or divorce, and along with divorce comes a free raping by the divorce court. Losing their kids, their house, half their stuff and the added bonus of continuing to pay the person who caused this for the rest of their life. That’s a ridiculous choice to have to make. So in that case, cheating is not a wholly unreasonable solution.

A wife whose husband has become sexless can make a legitimate choice to divorce with limited negative consequences, so there is no excuse for them to cheat.

Oy. And vey. Dramatic much?

A wife who unilaterally chooses to be sexless gives her husband a Hobson’s choice.

First of all, who are these wives this person speaks of who entirely cut their husbands off? There is a difference between, “I want to have sex six times a week but my spouse will only give it up twice,” vs. “I haven’t had sex in five years.” Not to mention, cheaters lie. It’s what they do.

CF will tell anyone who will listen that we hadn’t had sex in ten years. That is an outright lie. He will also tell people he is an Army Ranger. That is another outright lie. He lies. It’s what he does. I feel like I’m in a fucking Geico commercial!

In addition, the only spouses I’ve ever heard of who cut their spouse off sexually were the cheaters! They did it to maintain control. Meanwhile, they were out there screwing anything that moved.

Either cheat or divorce, and along with divorce comes a free raping by the divorce court. Losing their kids, their house, half their stuff…

Secondly, if you do even the tiniest bit of research you will find that it is generally women who pay the greatest price when it comes to divorce. Hell, I know I got a great deal compared to some people but my standard of living is still far, far below what it was. I will again remind the reading audience that while CF is indeed paying out in excess of 60% of his paycheck to me, he’s doing so because he refuses to leave his sweetie behind to find a better paying job. He was imputed at his previous wages. Even with a ten month gap in employment and being basically fired for drinking on the job, he managed to get a $100,000/year job. I finally got one for $11/hour. He lives in a 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom 3000 sq. foot home which looks eerily like our old home in Virginia, with a community pool and a community clubhouse. I live with my mother, have no bedroom to call my own, and sleep on the couch.

Sure, there are stories of women who take their husbands to the cleaners. The ironic part? They’re usually the ones cheating. I know far more women who have been left destitute after a divorce.

…and the added bonus of continuing to pay the person who caused this for the rest of their life.

I’m pretty sure CF must have written this. Yet another person lamenting having to pay “for the rest of their life.” No, it’s not the rest of their life. In many states they pay nothing aside from child support! Child support ends at some point. Spousal support ends at some point. In my case it will end in 16 years. That is hardly “the rest of his life”.

I loved this though: So in that case, cheating is not a wholly unreasonable solution.

A wife whose husband has become sexless can make a legitimate choice to divorce with limited negative consequences, so there is no excuse for them to cheat.

Nice! So men are forced to cheat because otherwise they may have to give up some of their stuff. Women, on the other hand, never have an excuse to cheat.

It’s too bad some of these people never grew up. If they had they would understand that sometimes doing the right thing isn’t easy. They would understand that on occasion you get to choose between two shitty things. These poor babies just assume the fact that divorcing comes with consequences they don’t want to face means they should be excused for cheating.

Could we please stop acting like women (or whoever is withholding) have all the power? It’s not like a stay at home mom who is “refusing” to have sex has nothing to lose if her husband leaves her. Many states start with 50/50 custody so she stands to lose her kids. Even if she has primary custody she still misses out on weekends and holidays with her kids. A woman who divorces may find her children being raised by another woman. After reading a Mom vs. Stepmom debate board for over ten years it seems to me that women are much more territorial when it comes to the children. Many states have no alimony, so even if she does get custody of the kids, she won’t be receiving it any longer than 18 years and it will go down as each child ages out. Her chances of finding a job where she makes as much money as her husband are fairly low unless her degree is in something that will remain current- think nursing. I’ve known women who were teachers, IT professionals, and accountants who struggled going back into the workforce after years of staying home with children. If she was already working then he’s not going to end up paying her alimony anyway, if they live in a state that awards it, unless he makes significantly more than her. And, if their salaries are very similar he might not end up paying her much in child support either- probably none at all if custody is 50/50.

It’s all a narrative to justify cheating. Those trying the hardest to justify it keep referring to the “refuser” in the relationship and how that person is the one who first broke vows. Apparently, one of the vows you make when you get married is to have sex on demand. If that vow isn’t met then the other spouse is justified in cheating, or so their theory goes.

Even when it’s pointed out that if that is indeed happening then both parties know they are not having sex. The person being refused sex is not left in the dark. When the other person decides to go outside of the marriage both parties are not aware of it. When that is pointed out, and divorce is offered up as the responsible response to such a situation (not getting all the sex you deserve) they once again chime in with, “But… consequences! Why should I suffer any consequences for any of my decisions? I have to cheat. I deserve to cheat because they won’t do what I want them, no NEED them, to do.” They are nothing but big ol’ cake eaters.

Here’s another truth. It’s not about the sex. If he’s getting it twelve times a week at home then he’ll complain that she won’t do anal, or oral, or some other thing. Or it’s that she won’t do a threesome or let him watch her have sex with another guy, or participate in a gang bang, or agree to an open marriage, or participate in S&M. Look at the swinger from last week. He and his wife are having sex upwards of five times a week and he wants to be able fuck strange on the side. His complaint about his first wife wasn’t simply that she only wanted sex a few times a month. It was also about the fact that she wasn’t willing to indulge his other fantasies.

If you read Chump Lady you will hear that narrative over and over: I had plenty of sex with my husband, but he went looking for other sources because I wouldn’t… (fill in the blank).

People don’t cheat because they’re in sexless marriages. I would be willing to bet that most of them who make that claim aren’t even in sexless marriages. They cheat because they feel entitled to cheat. They cheat because they want to eat cake, as Chump Lady would say. They cheat because nothing is ever enough for them and no amount of groveling and catering to them will ever make them happy or satisfied. They always demand more. They cheat because they don’t want to have to do the hard work of filing for divorce and going through everything that entails. It’s far easier to keep your spouse and some strange on the side, than it is to be honest and do the hard thing. They cheat because they have convinced themselves that it’s YOUR fault. You’ve made them do this; the poor lambs didn’t have a choice.

Don’t fall for the narrative, folks. People with an ounce of common sense don’t ask what the rape victim could have done to prevent the rapist from raping her/him. People with an ounce of common sense don’t tell the battered spouse, “If only you would do (fill in the blank),” or “If you wouldn’t do (fill in the blank) your spouse wouldn’t be driven to abuse you.” People with an ounce of common sense should also realize no one makes another person cheat. It’s a damn choice. Own it!

#riseup

More Musings On His Delusional Text

I’m not going to dwell on this too much because it doesn’t deserve anymore of my time. There were a few things I wanted to touch on though, and I know the original post was getting quite long. I thought it would be much easier to break it up into at least two posts.

The mobster was losing his shit when I first told him about this. He was all set to call him and tell him to knock it off. He wanted me to march down to the police department and file a restraining order as well. He even thought about filing one.

I explained that none of that would make a difference. If anything it would either a. inflame the situation even further, or b. just give him a huge amount of kibbles. He’s not central in my life. Why let him think he is?

My brother was a lot more restrained and I think that helped to reign in the mobster. Document, document, document. Oh, he did tell me I need to get my license to carry and buy a gun and start going to the range. That’s on my To Do list for the weekend. It looks like this:

  1. Put my clothes away
  2. Do laundry (yes, those really are two separate things and I can stand to put clothes away before I actually do laundry)
  3. Get my liquor license so I can bartend on weekends
  4. Pick up the house
  5. Write a couple blog posts
  6. Do something with my kids
  7. Get my license to carry
  8. Buy a gun
  9. Respond to blog comments and FB messages

Fun stuff, huh?

Maybe I’m stupid or sticking my head in the sand, but I’m really not that worried. He hasn’t seen his kids in almost 2 years. He supposedly can’t drive once again, according to his court testimony. He can only drive 6 hours for pussy and murder? I doubt it. Pussy? Obviously. Murder? He’s too lazy to make the effort.

My sister-in-law did talk to a retired police officer she knows about the situation and I’ve been told I can file a report for the harassment he’s been doing, and then seek a no contact order through the courts. I was a little surprised because the rant was to his sister, not me. He didn’t seem overly concerned or think that I was in imminent danger.

My brother has said pretty much the same thing. As long as he’s with Harley I should be safe. If Harley dumps him once the money runs out he thinks I might want to keep a closer watch over my shoulder.

I’ve always thought that if he was going to try to kill me (yes, it has crossed my mind- I used to watch a lot of ID TV) that he would either shoot me from a distance, or he would hire someone. I remember him telling me stories of how he had shot people in Iraq from quite some distance, and much like he’s practically a Ranger, he’s also practically a trained sniper. And a hired hit man? Well, it certainly keeps his hands clean. He is the smartest man you’ll ever come across so he undoubtedly would believe that would be a fail proof plan. My brother, however, doesn’t think CF would try to shoot me from some distance away; nor does he think he would hire someone. If it ever comes to that he believes it will be up close and personal. He’ll either shoot me or potentially stab me. Either way it will be face to face. Or so he believes. Which is why I’m supposed to get a gun and carry it with me at all times. And spend plenty of time at the range.

I also contacted my lawyer to let her know what was going on and to get her opinion. I let her know I had proof he was the one who hacked my account. I told her about the email lists I’m pretty sure he’s signing me up for. I told her about the message to his sister and read a few key parts. She asked me if I was afraid for my life and I told her I wasn’t. She said she could send an email to his attorney and tell her I was going to file a police report if he didn’t knock it off, but that I would be tipping my hand. He probably wouldn’t stop; he would just go further underground and not contact anyone he knew I was communicating with. If he really was going to come after me it would be best if he was doing everything in the open, none the wiser, and I could keep an eye on him somewhat, at least through other people.

Having spent a good many years watching Criminal Minds, and reading books about killers, I am also well aware that people can become unhinged after a stressor in their life. With Tammy Faye being sick and almost dying I do sometimes worry that the loss of his mother will send him around the bend. It’s not an overwhelming fear, but the thought is there. I will be vigilant if it happens.

I know he’s concocted this alternate reality where I’m the villain and he’s the victim. I’m a money hungry, parental alienating monster that emotionally abused him, dismissed his mental health issues, treated him like an ATM machine, and never loved him or took care of him. I pretty much drove him into Harley’s arms. And now I’m destroying another woman’s happy home, causing their children endless amounts of pain because I’ve decided to steal their father for my very own.

Most of it I shrug off. I know the truth. I also know that trying to defend myself against his wild, delusional accusations will all be for naught. He is always the victim. He’s done nothing wrong.

I know that his sister did not help me. We had maybe four or five conversations throughout the entire divorce. I clearly remember the first one because it was right after she sent me the message telling me she would always consider me family, and her saying that all he had told her was that I had filed for divorce and he didn’t know why. You can bet your ass I called her up and set the record straight. Oh hell no! He was not going to get to act like the victim.

I remember talking to her at least one other time where she told me he had told her I had thrown all of his things away and I refused to let him take anything from the house.

Aside from that it was a random, “Happy New Year” or “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Mother’s Day” text. Hardly earth shattering and ultimate betrayal type stuff. Certainly not bad enough to be put on a very exclusive enemies list!

She told him from the beginning that he was going to pay a very steep price for leaving me after twenty years of marriage and me being a stay at home mom who had followed him all over the country. I already knew that; it was certainly nothing she clued me in to. I had talked to a lawyer two days after finding out what he was up to. I knew what I was entitled to. He’s the one that didn’t believe her. He’s the one that didn’t do his homework and then lied to his attorney so he wasn’t given the full picture of what he would be paying.

I don’t regret my relationship with the mobster at all. I do regret the fact that I gave Cousinfucker even a tiny little opening to assuage his guilt, if it can even be called that. Sociopaths don’t have guilt.

He can use the fact that two years after he’s caught cheating on me I am finally with someone who treats me the way he should have all those years, and try to twist it as though I’m doing the exact same thing he did. Between him and Batshit Crazy they can convince themselves that I’m a man stealing home wrecker. He can try to sell this idea that I deserved every shitty thing he did to me because I’m a home wrecking whore, not some innocent victim.

It bothers me a little bit. Because I have a conscience! But overall, I’m good. I know the truth. I know that both of us were living separately from our cheating spouses who were living with their affair partners. I know that both of us were already into the divorce process before we met.

Unlike CF and Harley I never posted about me and the mobster on social media. I never talked about our relationship to anyone who knew CF. I was perfectly content for the mobster to be a secret from CF forever. Let him think I was miserable and alone. He found out about it when he hacked my Facebook page. Sadly, short of me refusing to entertain the thought of any contact with another male for the almost 2 1/2 years it took for my divorce to be final, there was nothing I could have done. When we started texting I never planned for it to turn into what it did; I had no intentions of this turning into a relationship. I figured we would text a few times and that would be it. It would be platonic and probably short lived, seeing as how all it was was texting. I suppose that’s what CF thought I deserved- to be alone forever, pining for him and mourning the loss of my old life.

Believe me- I did pine. Never for him because I was done with him after he cheated again. I did mourn the loss of my old life. I mourned what happened to my children. I freaked out over my financial situation, especially considering Mr. Genius didn’t think paying support was a necessity. In the end though I did as Winston Churchill advised: I found myself in Hell and I just kept going. He can’t stand the fact that I didn’t fall apart, that he wasn’t able to destroy me. I think he’s really pissed that I have found someone else and that I’m happy. I think he wanted me to be alone and miserable for the rest of my life. Now that he realizes that’s not going to happen he’s enraged. I’m sure the fact that I won’t keep my mouth shut doesn’t help matters either.

Yes, I’ve poked the bear a bit. You know what? I’m going to keep poking when I feel like it. I’m going to keep posting my happy pictures of me and the mobster. CF and Harley got to do it for two years while I was living a nightmare. They were told constantly how happy they looked and how they deserved it. Happiness looks good on you! Love you both! You deserve happiness. Those were all comments I got to see, made to the two people who were engaged and living together, having demolished my life and the lives of my kids. Now it’s my turn. Suck it, buttercup! If you don’t want to see the happy couple then stay off my Facebook page.

I’m also going to text him next Wednesday if I don’t have a check by then. If he gets shitty with me? He’s going to get a text very similar to this:

Your behavior has caused me to repeatedly have to take legal action in order to get you to do the right thing. I would think what with you being a genius and all that you would be able to foresee the consequences of your poor behavior. 

I realize you don’t see it this way but I have been a dream ex-wife. I didn’t publicly out you or toss you out of the house. I don’t harass you. I don’t contact you. I have left you alone to live out your ultimate fantasy- living with your soul mate/cousin who brings you so much happiness, at one point working side by side with your best friend, and residing in Kentucky near your mommy and your sister so you can see them anytime you want. 

You wanted to pay bi-weekly instead of in a monthly lump sum; I agreed even though I didn’t need to. I have never demanded payment on the due date, or even harangued you for payment. And yet you continue to try to play games. You continue to try to mess with me, and by extension, your children. Very well. I can see that I will once again have to be the adult and put an end to this silliness. When your employer contacts you to let you know that you have a garnishment order against you, remember you brought this upon yourself.

That’s really what this all comes down to, doesn’t it? He’s pissed that he has to pay me sufficient support instead of that $1500/month bullshit he wanted.

So why am I not surprised that you support a disgusting whore and aided her in getting the maximum money possible from me.

Why do I not get the full credit for having made sure he paid the maximum money possible? And, not to pick but I do feel the need to make a point of clarification: I did not get the maximum amount possible. We asked for $4000 in spousal support alone; I got $2800. The judge could have imputed his wages at $236,000; he ignored the bonus and stock options and imputed at $170,000.

She never helped me with anything! Certainly not in obtaining “the maximum money possible”! She didn’t act as a character witness for me. She didn’t feed me incriminating information. She didn’t disown him. She simply remained in my life because she loves my kids.

No, he’s just mad because the judge didn’t buy his bullshit. He’s angry because he and Harley might feel the pinch finally, and the party is over. How dare I let him feel the impact of this divorce? How dare anyone hold him accountable for his shitty decisions and poor choices?

You know the really sad part? He did all of this because he deserved to be happy. In the end I’m the happy one. I had accepted that he might get away with financial rape. I had sadly accepted the fact that my lifestyle has taken a huge hit. As the mobster would ask, “Are we going to be happy?” The answer was a resounding, “Yes!” We’re going to live in that cardboard box and we’re going to beg on the streets and go for coffee later and we’re still going to be happy, because we’re together.

Compare that to CF and Harley. Together they bring home over $11,000 plus whatever she gets for child support. I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that they have around $12,000/month to call their own. Once he pays me they still have at least $6700 left over (and I’m not counting her child support which she will get for at least another 8 years; I’m also not counting the times he gets paid three times a month). He still bitches and whines. Yes, he has to pay me a very large chunk of his salary. For now.

Why not look at it like this? First of all, he will get a “pay raise” in June and he will have anywhere from $400-$800 more to call his own. Conversely I will have $400-$800 LESS to call my own. In another three years he will be completely finished with child support and will be paying only $2800/month, or $1292.31 every other week. Meanwhile, I’m sure good ol’ Harley will get annual increases in salary. CF will get annual increases in salary, if he doesn’t flat out get another job. Sure, I can get an annual increase as well but seeing as how I make a fifth of what he makes and around a fourth of what she makes, it stands to reason my salary isn’t going to increase as quickly. Regardless, even if everything stayed the same, in a little over three years they would be living on approximately $8400/month while I live on less than $3600/month. Which one of us should be whining about money? I’m pretty sure it should be me but I’m not. He should be doing the happy dance but he’s not.

Second of all, does the genius not realize he can go out and get another job making up to $170,000 and it won’t affect his support at all? He was imputed at that income! If he were willing to move he could easily make anywhere from $1000-$3000 more per month and that would all go in his pocket. Or at least the family coffers.

The fact he made poor financial decisions throughout this entire process is not my problem. I guess he thought he would take it all and I would be left with nothing. Hey, according to him I wasn’t smart enough to figure out where the vast majority of the money was so he should be happy, right?

Joke’s on you, Cousinfucker; I don’t care if you squirreled money away. You’re still a miserable human being who will never be satisfied. You blew up an entire family for your happiness and you’re still unhappy. I’m living a whole different life and living on a whole lot less money but I’m the one who is happy. I’ve got my kids, my family and friends, my mobster, and my freedom. I’m good. No, I’m great. Suck it, you evil bastard.

 

An Open Letter to Cousinfucker, Part 1

January 2016

I wrote this shortly after I received the famous text from CF.  I never sent it.  It got to be way too long; I essentially vomited up twenty plus years of rage and frustration and I figure if I was lucky he might read two or three sentences.  Nonetheless, I’m quite proud of it and I thought I would share.  Most of this is undoubtedly a repeat of things I’ve already shared.  There’s only so much that happened in the beginning and since I don’t speak to him if I can help it I don’t get a lot of new material.  Anyway, here it is.  Enjoy!

Sam, let’s try to figure out a way to make this less stressful for all involved. I am saddened that you felt compelled to toss out all of my memories and my clothing.  There are so few of them in this house.  In spite of all that has happened we have a history and that cannot be erased no matter how badly you want it to go away.  So you have a choice.  You can be bitter and hateful toward me, or respect the fact that I am setting you free of the burden of being my wife.  I know you will take a hit financially but you will be well provided for, we both know that.  My attorney has you covered for the rest of your life.

So stop all of this foolishness.  Let our children know I love them and let’s act like adults and come to a healthy relationship apart from all of this.  I respect you as a mother and you have followed me around the country and I am grateful to you for that.  Let’s build a future relationship that we can both be happy for each other and our children and show them that happiness and being whole are vital to a person’s future.  I read everything you wrote on your fake Facebook page.  I know you have been very unhappy.  It’s evident in what you wrote and your depression has heightened in the past two years.  I know you will be whole without me, we aren’t good together.  So all that said I want you and I to work on this.  To be grown up about it for the sake of our children.

I am not even sure where to begin with your long rambling text so I suppose I’ll begin with the obvious.  I’m not sure who you wrote that for but it wasn’t for my benefit.  Quite frankly, I’m not even sure you wrote it yourself. Secondly, you are not a victim so it would be refreshing if you could stop acting like one.  You are also not a hero so please stop acting like you’ve somehow done me a favor by cheating on me.  Again.

Do not patronize me with your “Let’s stop this foolishness and figure out a way to make this less stressful.”  Do you know how you could have made this less stressful?  You could have refrained from having sex with your cousin while you were married to me.  You could have refrained from having sex with your cousin while your children and I were on what was supposed to be a family vacation, a vacation (and family) you blew off so you could have sex with your cousin.  You could have refrained from moving me and your children 2000 miles across the country, uprooting our lives for *your* happiness, only to turn around and start up yet another affair with your cousin.  You could have been an adult and talked to me instead of turning to people who have never been there for you during your many crises.  You could have refrained from siphoning off thousands of dollars to your mistress while you lied about it and fed me a line of bullshit about it being for your mom.  You could have stood up and tried to act like a man instead of trying to convince yourself and everyone around you that you’re some hapless victim.  And as far as making this less stressful for everyone… what on earth about this is stressing you out?  You do whatever you want!  You live here during the week not caring whether there is enough in the bank account to pay bills or not, and then you take off every weekend to be with your mistress and her kids, spending money like it’s growing on trees and having yourself a fine time.

I have spent the last 2 years walking a tightrope for you, protecting you and being respectful of all your “issues”. I hid your affair from everyone in my family.  I let you get away with directing how I was allowed to heal.  I was even at the point where I was accepting the fact that your mom was going to continue to have a relationship with your mistress.  And what have you done?  You’ve thrown me under the bus time after time.  Not only that but you’ve actually had the audacity to act like you were somehow protecting me while throwing me under the bus! Half the time (if not more than half) you’ve told outright lies about me. Let’s not forget the biggie- you started screwing your cousin!  I don’t know why I continue to be amazed at how you can cheat on me, not once but twice (and with the same “woman” no less!) and yet still manage to act like you are the injured party.

To be continued…

 

Why Isn’t He Happy???

January 2015

I keep meaning to write and then I get busy, or I get tired. Usually it’s tired. And I wanted to do this on a computer instead of my phone or tablet. I was going to write about how much better I’m doing. How I don’t go to the infidelity blogs that I follow as often. How I’m tired of thinking about it and can more easily just tell myself, “I’m not going to think about that now.” I think the hurt and betrayal becomes such a big part of your life it’s not easy to lay it aside. But, I’m not going to write about that today. Instead I’m going to write about my feelings of frustration.

Zack had another bad day recently and it really threw me for a loop. I’m so tired of this. I know I should be more supportive. I know he can’t help it. I even know he’s taking steps to get better. But every time I think about everything that I have lost due to this move it enrages me. THIS was supposed to be what made everything better. Stupid thinking, I know. But he insisted he was miserable in our former state and would have broken down if he had to stay there much longer. Now we’re here and if anything he’s worse. I’ve lost my friends, my support system, my social activities. I have no more PTA, no more Bunko, no more gym trips, no more actual gymnastics, no more hockey. My daughter competes alone out here so it’s not like I’m going to make friends with the other parents. They are all very nice but I don’t hang around them. And, when you get right down to it I don’t even have a husband out here because he’s too busy burrowing in his bedroom, watching TV all evening. Why are we here? Oh, it’s not just because he was miserable in our former state. It’s because after a fucking week of his whore promising him blow jobs and a brand new shiny life with her, letting him know she could “envision a future” with him, he started talking up the Whoreville plant to those around him who could make it happen, letting them know he wanted it when it became available. I live here, away from my friends, because of my husband and his whore. My family is still 10 hours away. I don’t really see them any more often than I did when I lived 23 hours away. Spending the holidays with them was nice but it doesn’t make up for the other 363 days of the year that are miserable. I had high hopes my family was moving out here but those hopes were dashed. That sent me into a tailspin. I’m sure I will recover.

I have had a busy day today. I had a dentist appointment at 8:30, went to pick up my cat after the appointment, met Zack for lunch after I picked up the cat, and then dropped off my car to have the fuel door fixed. Later this evening I’ll be heading to school for a gymnastics meet where I’ll be helping at the score table. Oh, and I keep busy decorating. Every month there is a new theme. Keeps me busy! BAER

I want to like it here. I want to get involved and feel like I fit in, but I don’t know how. You’d think it would be easy after all the moving we’ve done but every time we move I have to start all over. We hated State #2 the first time we lived there and kept mainly to ourselves. We moved to State #3 and we began hanging out with people he worked with. We had a fantastic network of friends. I fondly remember going out to eat with 8-10 people, easily! Then we moved back to State #2 and we never hung out with his co-workers. I found an online group of moms from my area and had playdates once a week with them for a while, until one moved, one dropped out, one went back to work, and one returned to school. I got involved in church- I worked in the nursery and then worked my way up to the older grades as my kids aged. I joined the meal team. I led a small group. I started a MOPS group. Before I started a MOPS group I got involved in one close to my house. Joined the hospitality team. I volunteered at my daughter’s school. And I drove her to gymnastics and Bible Club and Bible School in the summer. When we moved to State #4 I couldn’t find a MOPS group. I never found a church where I could feel at home and really get involved. So I looked to PTA, and I got very involved. I did Teacher Appreciation the entire time I was part of PTA. I was the elementary school president for 4 years. I did the president thing at the middle school. I was the council president. I moved up the following year to be the region secretary. I made friends with all the other moms on my daughter’s gymnastics team. I started playing Bunko and then started up my own group. I drove my son to hockey and became a hockey mom. Now we’ve moved again. We don’t hang around Zack’s co-workers, the PTA is a joke out here, my kids have aged out of MOPS years ago, hockey doesn’t exist out here and gymnastics is a joke. And church? Well, let’s just say I’ve been struggling with my faith for a while and I’m not sure I want to put myself out there yet again. I’m tired of starting over. I’m 45 years old and my life has been completely dismantled. I don’t even have a husband I can lean on because he’s dealing with his own issues. So I’m all alone. Thank you once again Zack and Harley for your thoughtlessness and selfishness! I’m so excited to be able to live out your dreams.

Present Day Sam Says: Why wasn’t he happy? Because he’s never happy! Because moving was never about his dream job; it was always about getting closer to Harley. Maybe they weren’t still in contact when we moved; maybe they were. The fact remains we moved because they put the move into motion during their first affair.

More of Poor Pitiful Zack

January 2015

Zack has been very sick (like, hospitalized sick) and has also been dealing with extreme anxiety. Lots of war issues. I noticed though that he would ask, “How can you ever forgive me? How can I make it up to you?” And I started thinking, why would I need to forgive him for what he did in war? Why would be need to make it up to me? So now I’m wondering if he was actually talking about his EA. He was in such rough shape I didn’t ask if we were still talking about the war. In my mind, though, that’s what he was asking about.

Present Day Sam Says: If I’m being honest I would like to believe that he really was struggling with believing I didn’t love him. Because that would mean he did actually love me. But in a twist of fate if that really was what happened then it’s too easy to try to take responsibility for what he ultimately chose to do.

If I believe he was psychotically depressed over the thought of losing me, that he was suicidal at the thought, then it’s too easy to me to say, “See? It’s your fault. If only you had reassured him he wouldn’t have left. If you didn’t have that alternate Facebook page then you’d still be married. YOU caused all of this! You have no one to blame except yourself!”

Here’s the thing: Regardless of whether or not he thought I would never forgive him (Newsflash: I had! I moved across the damn country for him!) the way he chose to solve this dilemma was entirely, completely and utterly wrong. He had many options and yet the one he chose was to cheat on me. He chose to confide in others who were only too eager to urge him to move on and leave me. When the cuntface cum dumpster called him he could have refused the call. He could have told me she called him. He could have been honest. That would have required some courage on his part, though, and he is sorely lacking in courage.

Likewise, if he was truly so unhappy and felt unloved and like we could never repair our relationship he could have left before he found himself a new true love. I’m so sick and tired of hearing about all these pansy ass cheaters who are “so miserable” and yet never find the “courage” to leave until they’ve got somebody else to fuck.

Yes, nothing shows conviction like tossing aside your wife or husband once you’ve encountered someone you want to nail.

Sam’s Epic Christmas Meltdown

 

December 2014

Oh you sonofabitch and fucking bitch! I had the “privilege” of reading my husband’s text to his sister. She started off by wishing him a Merry Christmas, I believe, and mentioning that she had heard we’d be down there but they’d be in Florida. Shocker. Then she goes on to tell him she sent me a friend request but I declined it “so I’m done reaching out now.” Really, you fucking bitch? WHAT exactly have you done to “reach out” besides sending me a self serving friend request a year and a half after you FUCKING ENCOURAGED MY HUSBAND TO LEAVE ME FOR HIS WHORE???? I would really love to know. Was it when I told you you should call your brother the night I was refusing to come home when I found out he planned on marrying the whore and you said you were sorry for your part in all of this? Or when you would patronize me with your “I understand,” comments whenever I would voice my hurt at what was done? That’s some stellar reaching out.

Then my asshole of a husband goes on to APOLOGIZE for ruining her relationship with me. Tells her it’s all his fault and, oh, how I love this part, he never should have tried to be happy. Thanks, honey! So glad to hear I’m your penance. Tells her he’s heavily medicated and she’s been a wonderful sister and so supportive.

The best part? She still hasn’t answered him back. Yes, let’s kiss her ass, throw me under the fucking bus, and after bitching about how self centered she is and how she’s never there for him tell her she’s just the best thing ever and it’s all my fault!

Sonofabitch! I’m seriously thinking of leaving his ass once again. Hey, Harley Buttwipe Whoreface, your soul mate may be on the market! That’s probably not nearly as intoxicating as stealing another woman’s husband but a soul mate is a soul mate, right?

I’m so fucking tempted to text his bitch of a sister and tell her I’m giving her the best Christmas gift ever- a divorce! Now you can call your brother’s whore and tell her he’s available and get the two of them together. Then you can have your fantastic family get togethers with your “new sister!” and everyone can rejoice that they got rid of me, the horrible evil wife.

FUCK YOU BOTH!

Present Day Sam Says: I freely admit that this was not a nice entry.  I was pissed!  However, I’m not sure it really rises to “cheat on your wife” upsetting.

Here’s the best part though. Blockhead was feeding him information. He was telling him what I had written. I can see in black and white the word “divorce” and the phrase, “I’m seriously thinking of leaving his ass once again.” My question is, did Blockhead see any of the words preceding that? I’m painted as the bitch because I’m legitimately upset and yet the whole, “Throw Sam under the bus” bullshit is completely ignored.

It’s like me being extremely hurt by the fact Jezebel is acting like she is the poor put upon victim means nothing. Let’s gloss over that and concentrate on Sam being angry. Let’s ignore the part where Sam writes about her husband telling his sister he never should have tried to be happy. None of that should matter. The only pertinent parts of this entry are the ones where Sam is going off the rails. How can you not see the pain and insecurity in that post?

The answer is easy. He was never my friend and he was actively campaigning against me.

In the end it doesn’t matter. They all got what they wanted. I’m gone. Harley’s in my place. They’re all happy.

Advice From the Mistress Concludes

Thankfully we now come to the final few nuggets of wisdom the professional yet reformed mistress has to offer us.

10. Time Management – Never make the ‘kids your life.’ All you will do is alienate your husband. Try to manage your time wisely so that when your husband comes home you have time for him. Couples that don’t eat together, or spend the evenings together, generally grow apart. Don’t allow your husband to become distant or lonely, or a space will be created for another woman to walk into his life.

Spoken like a woman who has no children. When your children are younger they should be your life. They are completely dependent upon you. I will make no apologies for putting my kids first and taking care of them. It’s a short season in your life. Suck it up, buttercup.

I know this is going to sound crazy but maybe, just maybe, if the husband actually pitched in and helped, the wife wouldn’t always be accused of making the kids her life. When you are the only one who takes them to school or practice and the only one who picks them up… When you are the only one to make their lunches, sign their permission slips, go to parent-teacher conferences, meet with teachers, and go to their programs… When you are the only one who will take them to the movies, on vacation, to the mall, out shopping, out to eat, or on any outing… it gets exhausting and then you’re accused of putting the kids first and neglecting the marriage. Most of this shit needs to get done and if Hubby is sitting around waiting for you to draw his bath for him and pop grapes into his mouth then that leaves only one person to do all of it. You can’t complain that she never has time for you if you’re not willing to help out with your shared children.

I can assure everyone that not once did CF grab his car keys and announce he was going to pick Rock Star up from gymnastics. I did not then spring up from the couch, knock him down the stairs in my quest to grab my own keys, and yell triumphantly on my way out the door, “Not on my watch, sucker!” I also never threatened him with bodily harm if he ever attempted to come into the kitchen and cook a meal for us. Never once did I lock myself in a room with my children, declaring with just a tinge of crazy as he banged on the door and pleaded with me to let him in, “I will never allow you to get up in the middle of the night with my children! NEVER! I’m the only one that is allowed to be woken up in the middle of the night. Do you hear me? Do you?” I also never threw my body in the path of his car in an effort to block him from leaving the house with our two kids to give me an hour or two alone. I never grabbed a laundry basket out of his hands and snarled, “WTF do you think you’re doing with that? I’m the only one that does laundry around this house! Stay out of the laundry room!” I never knocked him out of the way in order to run out and grab something for all of us to eat. “You’ve gotta be pretty fast to get one over on me!” I never tore the house apart after he’d cleaned it, screaming about how no one was going to clean this house except for me. Never told him I didn’t want him going to parent-teacher conferences with me because he would just get in the way. Never told him he wasn’t allowed to take the kids out to dinner. I would have welcomed the help. But it turns out all of those things were my job and he was busy doing other stuff (or people). I guess I needed better time management skills.

Here’s another thing that’s going to sound crazy. I actually agree with her when she says that when you don’t eat together or spend evenings together you will gradually grow apart. I saw it happen in my own marriage. But here’s the rub. It wasn’t solely on me. He played a huge part in that dynamic. He wanted to watch TV and he didn’t want to be bothered by young kids making noise while he was trying to watch something. Leaving those two alone so that I could sit by his feet and gaze adoringly up at him would have resulted in utter chaos. They were 2 and 4 at that time, for crying out loud! Maybe 3 and 5. My children are delightful these days, but in their early years… Let me just say I have been told more than once that I have the patience of Job and that if they had been born to any other person they probably wouldn’t have survived.

I gave him what he wanted. Peace and quiet. The ability to eat his dinner and watch television with no interruptions.  Then he complained because he got what he wanted.

When we moved across the country the first time he began shutting himself up in the bedroom. That was his doing, not mine. He was always asked if he wanted to go with us whenever we went somewhere. He usually declined. I had to resort to getting my daughter to ask him if he’d join us. He’s the one that kicked me out our bedroom for years, complaining that my snoring kept him awake.

This was not a situation where I was the frigid, neglectful wife who treated him like he was disposable. This was him shutting himself off from the rest of the family.

Yes, ladies, all the childcare is your responsibility but please try to get all of that taken care of while your husband is away. Time management! Once he gets home he should be your entire focus. Please train your children to never need anything from you once your husband gets home. Also, please speak to all coaches and school administrators so that they never plan anything outside of your husband’s work hours because that, too, will take away from your husband. Your husband must never be neglected. Again, spoken like a woman who never had children and could concentrate all of her energies on the married man she was fucking.

11. Cooking – Be sure to spend less time in the kitchen and more time in the bedroom, as the way to a man’s heart is NOT through his stomach, it’s actually more South of his waistband! A nice hot meal need not take hours so don’t ever slave over a hot stove. Be adventurous in the kitchen, but even more so in the bedroom.

Oh my dear Lord! Let me make sure I have this correctly. I’m to make a hot meal. But it needs to be a simple, hot meal because anything that takes more than five or ten minutes will cause him to cheat. I call foul, Sarah! I used my crockpot all the time! So why did he cheat on me? I have checked off all the boxes. Hot meal? Check! Not spending hours in the kitchen? Check! Delicious goodness? Double check.

And don’t even get me started on adventurous in the bedroom. Suffice to say, dear sweet stupid Sarah, your advice is about as good as your morals.

12. Keep your own identity – NEVER be a doormat for your husband. Be a strong woman, and let him know that if he ever mistreats you, or cheats on you, you will not put up with it. Teach him to make sure he respects you, and that he will lose you if he strays. Also, have your own life and interests, so that you are not just ‘a wife.’ Otherwise you will have nothing to ever tell him or surprise him with. You should be willing to work for a relationship, but never suffer for it.

Ahem… oh, Sarah? You’ve just spent this entire list telling us to do things we don’t necessarily want to do. You’ve told us our husbands are the most important thing in our life and they should be put ahead of our needs and the needs of our minor children. You’ve spent 11 talking points telling us to not get fat, to stay sexy, to fuck his brains out and to do and be whatever he desires. So how is it that none of that shit results in us being a doormat? You’re giving the very blueprint of being a doormat and then saying, “Don’t be a doormat!”

How are any of us to be a strong woman or to assert our boundaries when you’ve spent this entire “lesson” teaching us to be perfect little props for the important man in our life?

It’s a little difficult to tell your spouse that you won’t tolerate cheating and to demand respect when everything you’ve advised us to do so far puts us completely at his mercy. If he’s been taught that he’s #1 and the most important thing ever to exist then why would he ever believe that we would leave if he cheats?

Oh, and newsflash, Sarah! Many women DID tell their husbands cheating would be a deal breaker. That’s why they’re divorced now. And why do you think people lie and gaslight and do their best to keep it a secret? They KNOW it’s wrong. In some cases I’m sure they know their spouse will leave when she finds out.

How am I supposed to have my own interests and my own life when I’m supposed to be catering to him 24/7? You seem to be very worried that I will have nothing to “tell him or surprise him with” but I thought my problems and my life weren’t of any consequence and that everything was supposed to be about him and his day.

I think Sarah’s advice highlights the problem some have between fantasy and reality. It gives voice to those people (cheating men and women alike) that really believe marriage should be exciting and fun all the time and that they should have every need met instantaneously. If they don’t, then they are entitled to cheat.

This advice thrives on fantasy. How many women can honestly say they could do everything that good ol’ Sarah advises us to do? I’m exhausted just reading that list. It’s one demand after another and there doesn’t seem to be any give and take.

Let me be clear, lest I’m accused of being a man hater, I think that much of what she talks about here is fine if it’s done occasionally. I think it’s great when couples can do some of the things on this list. I have no problem with sending a flirty message to your husband. I am a very physical person myself so touching someone, holding their hand, rubbing their back, is something that I would do naturally. I’m not opposed to throwing on some eyeliner and wearing a cute outfit. I think it’s important to not lose yourselves as a couple in your quest to raise children. Keep the romance alive! If you’ve got a chance to spend some time alone as a couple then go for it. But I also think both people need to be participants. And I think that when one person believes that they are entitled to all of the things on the above list then you’ve got some major problems. Regular, real, day-to-day life doesn’t work that way. You might be able to do some of this all of the time. You might be able to do all of it some of the time. But I don’t see how anyone who has actual obligations and responsibilities can do all of it all of the time. Then again, affairs thrive on fantasy and most affair partners don’t see each other every single day. Most affairs also don’t last more than six months so there’s the whole “they can do all of it some of the time.”

I liken her advice to the difference between every day life and taking a vacation. Sarah seems to think that relationships should be like being on vacation every day. You should always be lounging on the beach and sipping cocktails brought to you by smiling servers. You should always be free to wander aimlessly all day long if that’s what you choose to do, or embark on some exciting adventure. You should indulge every day- eating every meal out and not having to worry about cooking or dishes or doing laundry. You should be able to sleep in every day and go to bed whenever you’d like. It should always be one exciting choice after another- cruise this week, skiing next week, a trip out of the country the week after that. Fun, fun, fun with absolutely no responsibilities.

I’ll say it one more time so that I’m not misunderstood (although I’m sure I’ll be accused by someone of being a man-hating, relationship deficient bitter bitch): I think trying to do some of the things good ol’ Sarah suggests is a good thing. By all means, look your best. Talk to your husband. Spend some time with him without the kids around. Surprise him with something fun and/or sexy. Talk to him. Have sex with him. Maybe wear something a little risqué once in a while. Go out and have fun together.

Where her advice falls flat is in the fact that she believes this should be the ordinary. This should be every day life; it’s where the bar is set. I believe those things are “vacation ideas” if you will. I don’t think anyone can live up to all of that every single day. As I said earlier I’m exhausted just reading the list.

The other problem I see with it is there is no talk of equal reciprocation.We women are only as useful as our ability to satisfy our man. Our lives are all about pleasing him. There is nothing about him pleasing us. I guess our big reward is that our husband won’t cheat on us. Because Sarah thinks cheating is a relationship problem.

Honestly, if this is what all I have to do in order to keep a man and have a relationship I’m not interested.

Advice From the Mistress, Part 3

Ready for round three? Let’s begin.

7. Stroke his ego, and other parts – Men want to feel like men. They want to feel needed and wanted. Tell him how much you appreciate him, especially when he does something nice. Let him know you respect him as a man. And touch him. Be tactile with him.

1. Maybe men (these men you’re writing about, whoever they might be) would be treated like men if they didn’t act like entitled 2 year olds.

2. I would find it easier to respect him as a man if he weren’t fucking around on me. I’m pretty sure I speak for the majority of women when I say it’s pretty difficult to respect your cheating husband.

Come on, Sarah, you’re treating men like they’re idiots. No, you treat them like fragile crystal. Or a scared kitten.

Come here, kitty… let me love you. I’ve got a warm house and a soft blanket and plenty of yummy food. Come here, you sweet little bundle of fur. I won’t hurt you. You’re such a pretty kitty. Oh yes you are! You’re so so pretty! Let me pet you and hold you. Oh that’s it. You’re so soft. Do you like it when I scratch your ears? How about under your chin? Oh, you really like that! Yes, you do! Yes, you do! You are such a pretty kitty! I’m going to love you forever and never let you go!

I don’t have a problem with letting someone know I appreciate what they’ve done. I’ve never had a problem saying, “Thank you.”  I’m not talking about being dismissive of someone or treating them like they owe you. I think I’m a pretty kind person. I think I show a lot of love and affection and that I express appreciation. You, however, are ridiculous. And exhausting. My God, it’s a constant cycle of being “on” and having to cater to his ego. If “your man” needs this much ego stroking I can’t imagine you have too much of a relationship. He sounds like a giant baby. It, in fact, reminds me of coaching my own children.

Be gentle, honey; pet the doggy softly. No, no! We read books; we don’t throw them in the toilet. I’m so proud of you for not getting in trouble at school today!  Thank you for doing the dishes. Hey, great job getting up this morning and getting ready for school all on your own. I really liked the way you didn’t call your brother an asshole today. Thank you for unclogging the toilet without having to be told.

It also reminds me of CF telling me he wanted me to come watch him mow the yard. He wanted me to follow him with my eyes, and maybe fetch him a cool refreshing drink. He wanted me to just touch him as I passed by. Guess what, Sarah? I did all those things for the giant man baby. He’s living with and fucking his cousin now.

Was I faithful because he did all of these things you’re telling us wives to do? Hell, do they even need to do any of these things? You never talk about any give and take in relationships; it’s all about what women need to do to hang on to their man. So I apologize for being a bit unclear.

Ultimately though, no, I wasn’t faithful because he did all those things. Oh sure, occasionally he would pick me up a candy bar from the gas station. He would thank me for making dinner. Towards the end he would tell me I was sexy or beautiful or amazing. I got about 16 months of that. Mostly he kicked me out of the bed, didn’t want to hold my hand, and closed himself off in the bedroom. I was faithful because I have a moral compass. I was faithful because I’m loyal until the end. I was faithful because I took my vows seriously. I was faithful because that’s just who I am.

I say again: You do not control another person’s behavior. Not by what you do. Not by what you don’t do.

8. Be Sexy – Even if you sit around in your sweatpants all day, be sure to change just before he comes home from work into something sexier. Oh and remember to shave those legs, and other parts.

Yes, because there’s nothing I love more than donning high heels and cleaning toilets! Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I can clean the toilets in comfort; I just need to make sure I hop right up before he gets home so that I can shower and shave and look like some sort of sex goddess. Because otherwise he’ll cheat.

You sound like the 1950s Home Ec book that made its rounds: Put a fresh ribbon in your hair. Lightly spray perfume.

Because once again we are nothing more than the man’s adoring audience.

The kids are killing one another? Oops! Sorry, kids, Daddy’s on his way home. Mommy’s got to put on her mini skirt and high heels so that Daddy feels like a real man when he gets home. If Mommy isn’t sexy enough Daddy will leave her and you’ll grow up being bounced back and forth between two homes.

You’ve spent twelve hours with a screaming, colicky baby? Just put that baby down, apply some make-up, put on your best slut clothes and get ready to dazzle!

You’ve got one kid who needs to be transported to karate and one that needs to be picked up from piano. You’re in the middle of making dinner, one of your kid’s teachers just called, and you forgot to grab the dry cleaning and it closes in fifteen minutes. Don’t worry about any of that. Chuck all your responsibilities and put on something pretty. Leopard print is preferable.

You know what I want, Sarah? I want a man who thinks I look sexy even when I am wearing sweats. I want a man who can appreciate the fact that I’m making dinner, juggling schedules, and keeping everything going and yet still look up from what I’m doing and say, “Hi, baby! How was your day?”

See? I’m not a total bitch. I have no problem with doing things for others. Hell, I did EVERYTHING for the man I married. He still cheated. Because whatever it was that I did it was never enough.

I oppose this idea that by ignoring all of our wants and needs, and that by doing things we don’t feel like doing, we will somehow have this perfect relationship with a man who would never dream of cheating… if we can just dance pretty enough for him.

9. Ambiance – Create an environment he will enjoy when he comes home. Focus on soft lighting, scented candles and gentle music playing. Maybe run a hot bath, or jump in a steamy shower with him. Have his favourite drink ready, or enjoy a glass of wine together. Hide the kid’s toys, and any other clutter.

I wish you could see me right now, Sarah, because I am rolling my eyes so hard I fear they might fall out of my head. I think, dear Sarah, that this is the main difference between a wife and a mistress.

As his mistress you never had children. You were a kept woman. You fucked rich, married, entitled men who would pay your rent, buy you pretty things and support you. Your “job”, if you will, was to please him at all times. You could set the stage. You could play your gentle music with your candlelight glowing and then enjoy a glass of wine together. You could jump in the shower with him. Because you had no other obligations.

And what in the hell is with this, “run a hot bath”? Are you seriously drawing a bath for a grown ass man because he can’t figure out how to run a faucet, or because he’s just so exhausted he doesn’t have time? Or is this one of those, “We’ll soak in the tub together because it’s so romantic and sexy,” moments? Dear Jesus I hope it’s the latter.

Let me tell you what would have happened if I had done that when my kids were little. The candles probably would have ended up knocked over and setting the house on fire. They would be wondering why we weren’t listening to The Disney Channel and running around like crazy. While we were soaping each other up in the shower, sipping our wine, they would be going crazy in the other room. If the house hadn’t caught on fire then there would be a mess of epic proportions. Guess who would get to clean that up? Of course it would be me. I’d lay 50-50 odds on whether or not my daughter would have tried to kill my son. And honestly? I would be amazed if we could even keep them out of the bathroom while we had our sexy time. They could pick locks. More than likely we would be treated to little hands pulling back the shower curtain and little voices asking, “What are you doing in here? When are you going to be done? Why are you taking a shower together? Can I have some of your drink? Why does his penis look like that? Are you done yet? I’m hungry. Picasso won’t stop touching me. Can I get in the shower with you? Rock Star hit me.”

 

Advice From the Mistress, Part 2

Get those vomit buckets ready, ladies. We’ve got more advice from the lovely Sarah.

4. Communicating and the art of communication – Flirt with him throughout the day either via text, email, phone etc (*Note: that’s what all Mistresses do with your husbands*). Be fun and fun loving. Don’t nag! Ultimately make him WANT to come home to you, not HAVE to come home to you.

I detest this one with the fire of a thousand suns. Probably because it reminds me of what CF wanted me to do. Because the whore did it. I will say again, so that I am very clear, I think it’s wonderful when couples communicate throughout the day. I think the random sexy message and flirty text is a great thing. You know what’s not great? Being pressured into doing this. Having the expectation that you will do this every day, all the time. Your partner not respecting your time and the fact that you may be busy doing other things. Someone acting like a fucking high school student with their phone connected to their hand at all times so they can constantly text one another.

I’ve got a job! I can’t be on my phone all day long. I guess if I ever venture back into the dating pool I am doomed to be cheated on again and again because I can’t sit around texting my boyfriend constantly. What in the hell did people do before cell phones? Before this idea that two people in a relationship need to be in constant contact all day long, every damn day? I don’t think wives were calling their husbands at work at

9 am: Thanks for that morning quickie. I can hardly wait until you get home.

10:15: I miss you.

10:45: It’s been so long since I’ve heard your voice. I want you! I’m going to do all sorts of naughty things to you when you walk in that door.

11:30: Whatchya doing?

12:15: I’m lifting up my shirt and showing my boobs to you. Can you see it now? Close your eyes and imagine it!

1:30: I’m so hot and horny for you! I don’t know if I can wait until you get home.

2:00: How’s your day been?

2:45: I just called to say I missed you.

How would they have managed to get any work done?

OF COURSE the mistresses all do this. It’s a hook. See? I’m sooooo much better than your wife. It’s also one of the only ways they can be with this married man throughout the day.

Furthermore, I’m not taking advice from a whore, especially not my husband’s whore. How dare he try to turn me into her? He should be worried about what he needs to do to keep me! (Too bad I didn’t have that attitude when I was still married and “reconciling” with CF.)

My shit eating chimp decided that a mistress that lived hours away was a good idea. Sexting and flirty messages were all they had for day to day communication. And my guess would be that if you’re going to have an affair sex is going to figure prominently in that situation. She’s not going to be texting him to tell him the toilet is backed up or one of the kids is in trouble at school. She’s going to be texting him to tell him how much she wants him, how handsome and sexy he is, and to tempt him with promises of more once they can finally be together. It’s all fantasies and no responsibilities.

The wife, on the other hand, has an actual life with him. The sink gets clogged and a plumber needs to be called. A child is doing poorly in school. The in-laws want to come out for Spring Break. She doesn’t have the luxury of pretending that there is nothing else in this world going on except the crotch tingles she feels for her husband. Fuck the kids! Fuck your parents! Fuck me NOW!

You might be able to get away with that occasionally but if you think that’s what’s going to happen all the time in a marriage then you’re going to find there are a lot of things that don’t get taken care of and your life is going to crumble all around you.

5. Be Intimate with your husband everyday – Preferably sex YES! But even if you don’t always feel like it, there are other things you can do. If you’re not sleeping with your husband, I guarantee someone else is! Even a hug and a kiss will be welcomed if you can’t go the whole way, but some form of intimacy is essential.

Basically, what you’re saying, Sarah, is that you need to put out because if you don’t your husband has such lack of control he will be compelled to go out and fuck some random stranger. Yeah, no. We don’t control anyone’s behavior except our own. (Okay, I will acknowledge there are some extremely co-dependent personalities that are undoubtedly at the mercy of their partner but I would like to think those people are few in number.)

I already talked about the woman who wrote a book on relationships, advising women to never refuse their husband sex because if you weren’t giving it up he’d find someone who would. Even with that mindset her husband still cheated on her. She now has an elementary aged stepchild.

I’ve already talked about the women who were stunned to find out their husbands were cheating because they had sex with them every day or every other day (I guess that one day on, one day off was just too much for the sex starved husband).

Really, what kind of a relationship is that? I know I’m sick, baby, but maybe we could do it doggy style in the bathroom. If you just let me lean over the toilet I can throw up while you’re riding me hard and you’ll never have to miss a beat.

What happens if I get cancer and I’m exhausted and nauseous from chemotherapy? I know several females who either are going through, or have gone through cancer treatment. Are the husbands justified in getting it elsewhere now? After all if the premise is you need to be intimate every day you can’t let a little thing like cancer and fighting for your life stop you from fucking your husband or being intimate in some other way. Those husbands can’t be expected to be faithful now that their wives are unable to perform, can they?

What if I’m in pain? Maybe I broke an arm or a leg, or I’m having back spasms. Just fuck through the pain? What if I have a stroke? Are you still going to love me then or will you cheat on me because I can’t have sex every day?

When you’re a mistress sex is always new and exciting. It’s not something you necessarily have an opportunity to do every day. After all he has to concoct a lie to tell his wife so that he can get away and be with the mistress. So obviously when the two of those nitwits get together they’re going to be having sex. It’s what their relationship is built on typically. Some may argue that the mistress is their very best friend and they have such a stimulating meeting of the minds. They might argue that she understands him, she “gets” him in a way that no one else does. But if you ask him if he would want to be with her if they could never have sex again I think we know what the answer would be. No, seriously. You trade in your wife for this woman who is the Great Understander. You can talk to her about anything and everything but you can never have sex with her. I don’t think most of these men would still say, “Sign me up! She stimulates my mind and that’s enough for me!”

And once again we’re back to the premise of this delightful school which is that women are nothing more than penis receptacles. Do things you don’t feel like doing, even when you have a very valid reason for not wanting to do it, because your husband demands it of you and if you don’t then you can’t expect him to be faithful.

I will also state again, just to be clear, that I’m not talking about someone who withholds sex forever. I don’t think that’s an excuse to cheat but I want to be clear I’m not trying to justify the wife who has just suddenly decided she never wants to have sex again. That’s one extreme. Dear Sarah is on the complete opposite extreme. Give it up all the time, every day, or you’re a bad wife.

6. Put more friendship in your romance – Lighten up on the romantic side of your marriage. See your man as your best friend as well as your lover. That way you can really be yourself and be relaxed around him, just as you are with good friends.

Excuse me, Sarah. I’m a little confused here. You’ve just given me a list of 5 things that I’m supposed to do that don’t acknowledge I’m an actual person. If I’m counting correctly I can expect 6 more tidbits of awesome advice that completely discount me as a real live person. Your advice up to this point has been all about NOT being myself. Your advice has been hyper focused on how I look and what I do to make “my man” feel like he’s just the greatest thing in the universe. I feel like you’re moving the goal posts here.

This one really made me laugh, though, because with all the emphasis on sex and looking hot and sexy up until this point and then switching gears into being best buds I was imaging actual friendships I have. I can only imagine the side glance J would give me if I sidled up behind her and grabbed her ass. Or if I texted my other friend to tell her how sexy she looked. She didn’t like me grinding up against her, dancing drunk back when we were in college. I can’t imagine she’d appreciate a little touchy feely now.

Let me make sure I have this right. Be at his beck and call, text him nonstop with messages about how handsome and sexy he is and how I’d like to blow him, fuck him every day, make sure I don’t get fat, but lighten up and have some fun! Be his buddy! And then fuck him again. No matter how tired you might be.

Oh Sarah, I can hardly wait to see what other nuggets of gold are awaiting us.