You Don't Own Me

Hello Darlings...

Today is September 20, 2017

and if I was still married it would have been my 31st wedding anniversary.

I'm not sad about it.

I'm the one who left.

I ended our marriage.

And I left him for someone else---

MYSELF

I left him so I could be me...the me I wasn't being when I was with him.

The me that I had yet to meet---the grown up version of myself that wasn't just:

daughter
sister
wife
mother

I knew on my wedding day I was making a mistake.

But I shoved it out of my head and said "I do"

But that first glimmer of knowing I had chosen the wrong partner never left me.

I remember my father and I standing at the back of the church.

I was in what felt like MILES of beautiful ivory silk.

I was obsessed with Princess Diana and I found the gown that most closely matched her style (without the overly long train although mine was cathedral length).

Words that come to mind when I think of my wedding gown:
merangue
cupcake
puffball
Snowbeast (thank you Nia Vardalos and My Big Fat Greek Wedding)

my dress was beautiful but it was very much a 21 year old girl with a Princess Diana obsession's dress.

But it was gorgeous and I was pretty in it.

My 9...yes 9...bridesmaids (plus 2 junior bridesmaids and 2 flower girls---hey there are 7 daughters in my family) all wore rose colored pink taffetta.  With the requisite 80's bows down the back.

They did not look like Snowbeasts but rather as a very pink collection of girlyness.

My mother outshined me in a gorgeous deep turquoise gown.

she was stunning...

I was happy that day---I WAS A DAMN BRIDE!!!

I just forgot the part that meant I had to live with the guy forever.

But I didn't know what else to do with myself so I got married.

He's a nice man.
He gave me incredible children.
He wasn't a terrible husband.
He never cheated on me or hit me.

But he did at times make me feel like some wrong version of myself was eclipsing the real me.

So I stood at the back of the church with Daddy and saw a handsome guy at the end of the aisle and had a moment where "RUN!" entered my head.

And Daddy said: "Are you SURE?"

and that is what made me walk down the aisle because I wasn't going to be WRONG...if my dad ever questioned anything I did I had to prove to him that I was right.

I walked down the aisle, trumpet and organ blaring....

yards of ivory silk billowing around me....

an armful of calla lilies in my grip...

and I get to the end of the aisle and I look at my beloved...

and...

he...

says...

NOTHING

nope...not a tiny peep of "you look pretty"...

I finally HAD TO ASK---

because I had spent the entire day (and it was 8:00 at night) beautifying myself....

"well...how do I look"

and...

his...

answer...

"fine"

yes---he said "fine"...

not as in "you are so fine my love"...

nope...

fine as in "ok"

and sadly as much as that disappointed me I wasn't all that surprised.

I am a person who's primary love languages are "words of affirmation" and "physical touch"  and those are not his love languages and he could care less what I felt or needed throughout our marriage.

That day, knowing full well I had spent hours obsessing over looking like the perfect bride all I needed to hear was, and without prompting---"you look pretty".

But no...and in fact in the almost 25 years we were married I don't think I heard it from him but maybe 10 times---and I am sure I prompted it or someone else did.

I've heard it more in one night from my students than I did in my entire marriage.

And he never changed.

I wanted someone who understood me---he didn't.

And that was further proven on our honeymoon when despite knowing I am literally terrified of heights he decided to give me a what he called "playful" shove when we were at the top of the Eiffel Tower.  There was plenty of guard rails but just getting to the edge to look down upon Paris was frightening enough to me.

and then the little "push"

it felt mean...

it felt like someone who should have known better but didn't care...

I walked to the elevator and vowed to call my mom to find a way to get me home.  Somewhere in the cab ride to the hotel I calmed down enough but the voice at the back of my head said "he doesn't love you enough to understand when something is cute or funny to you and when something is too much".

I need romance...I need romantic gestures (not gifts---thoughtfulness) and he is NOT the man to deliver that.

So for years I remained disappointed as I saw how other couples were and we were not and finally I had enough...

It was time to shoot the dying horse and put our marriage out of it's misery.

And so I did...

What I have learned since then is so much more than I learned in the 25 years I spent with him...for the last 6 years I have learned that:

I can live all by myself
I can make a home for myself by myself
I can be a single mom
I can go to social events by myself

but that doesn't mean I like it....

I've made no bones about the fact that I am more than ready to find a man to share my life and time with.  I'm beyond ready.

I'm not sure I will ever marry again but I would very much enjoy having someone to share my days and nights with and to cook for and care for.

But I would rather be alone than with the wrong man.

I will never regret my marriage....I learned much from it and I got the two most amazing kids in the world from it.

I was speaking to a friend today who asked if I felt like ending my marriage was a form of defeat.  If in divorcing I had given up on an investment of sorts.

My answer to her was "no"...

The investment in my marriage yielded two wonderful humans that are so much more spectacular than I could have hoped for.  The return on my investment was HUGE.

I didn't fail at my marriage...and my marriage was not a failure.

I succeeded in being a good wife and mother.

And my marriage was a success because together (and then as divorced parents) we managed to raise to pretty happy stable awesome young people.

And if you are divorced I hope you look at your relationship with the same success that I do with mine.

Some day a sweet, gentle, kind man will look across the table at me and smile and make me feel like the only girl in the world...

a lovely man will crawl into bed next to me and kiss me goodnight and hold me...

a wonderful understanding man will get it that just going to the top of the Eiffel Tower is a feat for me...

and a precious man will pick me up for a date and tell me that I look lovely...

he will know I like lilies...and vodka dirty martinis...and cabernet...and rare steak...and spin class and yoga...and scented candles...and hot baths...and swimming pools....and children singing...

I'll find a man who knows that I cry at musicals---ALL OF THEM...

that the way to show me you love me is to come and watch my students perform...

that telling me I look pretty calms me down (even my doctor has figured that one out)...

that when I am in a museum I will cry over beauty and sometimes get overwhelmed to the point of needing to sit down and just look at it...

that my children will forever and always be first in my world but that he will be a very very close second...

The last man I ever kiss will know that the way to my heart is to listen to me when I want to talk and to hold me when I don't....

And my ex did not understand any of that about me.

Here's a good explanation of him and me:

I like a drink with a lid and a straw.
He does not.
At the drive through he always said "no lid or straw" and therefore we never got them on our drinks.

Because he didn't CARE enough that I preferred it that way (and he could have just thrown it away or explained when they handed the straws he only needed one) he just knew he didn't like it and therefore that's what counted.

It sounds petty---but after 25 years I would have thought that he would understand that tiny thing about me...and he didn't care enough to do so...

I'm a thoughtful person and I need someone who is thoughtful too.

Last year at this time I opened a bottle of champagne and toasted that I was no longer married to him.

This year I did not because it's better for my health to not have a drink but also because I have done that---I have saluted my freedom.

This year I just want to be grateful for it...just like I am grateful for so much in my life these days.

Good people get divorced.

It doesn't make us failures...it doesn't make us bad people...it doesn't make us bad partners...

it just means that we outgrew each other...

and that is ok.

Last year at this time I prayed to God to send me someone so that this year when my anniversary came I would have someone in my life.

I have cancer in my life...not a boyfriend.

El Diablo is not my boyfriend...

And that's ok...because honestly I think that when God does shine that light on the person who will be the last man I give a first kiss to that I will appreciate him more than I would have a year ago.

Because that man will need to have a strength and understanding that I am not ordinary...

I am extraordinary...

I beat cancer (no I am not "gonna"...I am claiming it now)

I survived what tried to kill me

I am forged in fire...
glazed in the kiln...
honed with steel...
made of titanium...

I am a badass woman who kicked cancer in the ass and made it look easy and I looked good while doing it...

I am the strongest me that I have and ever will be

So line up fellas...one of you is going to win the heart of a woman who can cook like a chef and organize a closet with ninja skills...and all you have to do is to want to know me enough to know that I will cry my eyes out over a showtune or a Hallmark commercial even though I can be tough as nails...

and never ever serve me a steak cooked anything over rare...or gin...

Inspiration Song: "You Don't Own Me" by Leslie Gore...because he tried to tell me what to do and say but I finally found my own voice and used it to say "goodbye"...

Bye Darlings---we all make mistakes...but relationships are not mistakes...they are all learning experiences...