Deciding on Divorce
The 3 Words That Ended My Marriage
The last year had been hell. I had been pregnant, had a baby, and scrambled through the newborn stage. My family and close friends lived across the ocean and my husband was a consistent and relentless asshole.
But my eyeliner game was on point. You win some, you lose some.
I pretended life was ok. I pretended I was happy. I made it work because I had to. There was nowhere for me to go. No one for me to run to. The pandemic shutdown enclosed me in this cocoon of hell.
Plus, what was I going to do? Leave my husband? And be the first person in my entire extended family to get divorced? To be a single parent?
To have a personality?
I powered on. Ignoring all the different types of spousal abuse that secretly filled our home.
It became harder to keep living the lie. My husband dug deeper and deeper into his pit of narcissism. He enlisted his toxic family to join him in playing narcissistic games with me as the target. All while I navigated through one of the most vulnerable times in a woman’s life.
Running out of Doritos.
When I tried to discuss our problems, my husband refused to engage in conversation. He would walk away stating, “I’m over it.”
Every time I talked to him about anything that shed him in a less-than-perfect light, I heard, “I’m over it. I’m over this subject.”
He would tell our therapist and me in couples therapy, “I’m over it. I’m over this conversation.”
I got the sense that our therapist wanted to throw a shelf at him.
I hated that phrase.
It was childish and ridiculous. It was dismissive and disrespectful. It told me that he didn’t care about me, our marriage, my feelings, or my concerns. I asked him on multiple occasions to stop saying, “I’m over it.”
Of course, he ignored my request.
He also ignored my request to not decorate our yard with Bud Light cans. At least they shone brightly in the sun.