GirlStupid
[gurl stoo-pid]
-adjective
1. Normally intelligent female who, although she knows better, lacks common sense when it comes to personal relationships.
2. Is unable to take her own advice. ie. Would advise friends in the same situation to do one thing and then does the opposite when faced with it herself.
She knew the relationship was bad for her, but kept going back and making excuses for him.
She sent him 18 text messages over the course over 2 days, even though she knew it was crazy.
She was suspicious and went through all his things, all the while berating herself for doing it.
***
I can't remember how old I was when I came up with GirlStupid, accusing a friend of tolerating way more in a relationship than she ever thought she would or would have advised me to. I think I must have been 18 or so, considering this is when my friends and I made some decidedly poor choices regarding members of the opposite sex.
I suspect that most women have been GirlStupid at one time or another, allowing themselves to set their better judgement and sometimes self-respect at the door in the name of love, or sex, or just plain attention. It always amazes me how confident and intelligent women can give the most sound and common sense advice to everyone else around them but can't make their own good decisions to save their lives. I'm not talking about the big bad things, the women (and men) who have real emotional problems, just the every day bad decisions that, once we are far removed from the relationship, we kick ourselves for.
Example: I have a friend, Jenny. She hadn't been in a relationship for a while and was maybe feeling a little less than self-confident. Until YoungOne came along. YoungOne was selfish and immature and just... Young. But when he gave my smart, beautiful some attention and then stopped calling... well, what's a smart, beautiful girl to do? Call too often. Text too much. Cry over someone who doesn't deserve it. Now, a lot later, she knows where she went from Girl to GirlStupid. Having said that, if YoungOne were to reappear in a weak moment for Jenny... GirlStupid is a very strong and has a long memory.
I have another friend, Eva, who slept with the same guy for two years because she was crazy in-love with him. She overlooked the fact that he was nothing more than a friend in public, and not a good one at that. Eventually, it ended and she was broken up about it and she hated him. Probably still does.
I have way more examples than that, but you get the point. GirlStupid - an epidemic!
And yeah, okay, I've been GS in the past. I can get over the stupid things from the past, what I am worried about is the stupid to come. What if this split brings out not only the GirlStupid, but the GirlCrazy and the GirlDesperate in me?
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Day 3 - Part 2
So after the terrible counseling session, hubby came back to our condo.
He got some more stuff, visited with the dog and took apart some weights that he'd left in the bedroom and that are constantly in my way. Then we watched an HBO show we've been watching together and cuddled.
Cuddled??
Was that a smart thing to do?
I don't think so...
But it was so nice.
Ugh, I'm screwed.
He got some more stuff, visited with the dog and took apart some weights that he'd left in the bedroom and that are constantly in my way. Then we watched an HBO show we've been watching together and cuddled.
Cuddled??
Was that a smart thing to do?
I don't think so...
But it was so nice.
Ugh, I'm screwed.
Day 3
Day 3 was the hardest day for a couple of reasons: 1) It was my first day back to work since he left. Over the weekend, I could lounge around with my friends and let them distract me between tears. On Monday, however, I had to put myself together like a normal person and try to be productive. 2) I was seeing hubby for our counseling appointment in the evening.
Because of the 2nd reason, I was completely distracted all day and was highly UNproductive at work for the entire day. Plus, because I tend to over-share things about my personal life and had told a few of the people I work with that I was going through a rough time, everyone wanted to know how I was doing. Considering that things had gone so much further "wrong" than I had anticipated the week before, I had to (well, didn't HAVE to) tell them that he'd actually walked out.
When I finally left work and came home, all I could think about was going to see him at the appointment. We had planned to meet half an hour before the appointment at a coffee shop to see each other before the session. I couldn't figure out what to do with myself in the hours until I had to leave, so I crawled into bed and took a nap. Maybe not the healthiest way to approach things, but it gave me 2 hours reprieve from obsessing about what I was going to say, what he was going to say, etc.
I got up and put on some make up and did my hair... I'm not sure why looking so put together was important to me, but I had been thinking about it all day. If he was fine, I didn't want to walk in and look like a mess. I met him at the coffee shop, 15 minutes late, and so began our most awkward encounter in the 8 years that I've known him. We hugged and he held on tightly for a moment, but all I could do what give him a frigid hug-pat thing to keep myself together.
"I don't think you handled things very well." I told him after we tried to make small talk for a few minutes. He didn't think there was a good way to handle things.
"True. But you could have waited until after my birthday, after this session with the counselor, and you didn't have to tell all my friends before you told me."
He conceded that he could have waited the extra 2 days, but wouldn't agree about the friends piece. "I had to find a place to live." Agree to disagree then.
The session with the counselor was awful. It was 10+ minutes of him saying why our relationship was so bad, why he left and how he basically didn't think things would ever get better. I sat there quietly, getting more and more angry at all the half-truths and things that he had clearly "misremembered".
My husband is, I explained to the counselor, a malcontent. Nothing is ever good enough and nothing is ever satisfying or fulfilling. He looks to external things for happiness and, not surprisingly, never finds it. It was only my own naivety that stopped me from realizing that it was only a matter of time until I was the thing that wasn't good enough and that was stopping him from being happy.
It went back and forth like that for a while before the counselor said that he needed to be honest, with himself and with me, about whether or not he wanted things to work or he was weaning himself off the relationship with this "separation".
He said both.
The counselor told him he couldn't do both, so he said that he did want to try to work things about BUT that things would need to change if we were ever going to work out. "Things" in this case meant me; I had to change if we were going to stay together. I had to be tidier and I had to lose weight. Period. He wasn't going to change anything, wasn't going to put any effort in.
Eventually, the counselor convinced him that effort had to be both ways and that efforts had to be acknowledged when they did happen.
She also gave me some weight loss tips. And at the same time acknowledged that because of a health issue (PCOS), it would be really, really difficult for me to do that. She also suggested living separately permanently, like in half a duplex or in suites in a house. She also said we had to decide what we were willing to live with/without...
Okay, so: Is the goal that I lose weight, get tidy, we live apart, we never have a sex life, we never have kids? If that's the case, I am not on board. That wasn't part of our vows and not what I signed up for.
Because of the 2nd reason, I was completely distracted all day and was highly UNproductive at work for the entire day. Plus, because I tend to over-share things about my personal life and had told a few of the people I work with that I was going through a rough time, everyone wanted to know how I was doing. Considering that things had gone so much further "wrong" than I had anticipated the week before, I had to (well, didn't HAVE to) tell them that he'd actually walked out.
When I finally left work and came home, all I could think about was going to see him at the appointment. We had planned to meet half an hour before the appointment at a coffee shop to see each other before the session. I couldn't figure out what to do with myself in the hours until I had to leave, so I crawled into bed and took a nap. Maybe not the healthiest way to approach things, but it gave me 2 hours reprieve from obsessing about what I was going to say, what he was going to say, etc.
I got up and put on some make up and did my hair... I'm not sure why looking so put together was important to me, but I had been thinking about it all day. If he was fine, I didn't want to walk in and look like a mess. I met him at the coffee shop, 15 minutes late, and so began our most awkward encounter in the 8 years that I've known him. We hugged and he held on tightly for a moment, but all I could do what give him a frigid hug-pat thing to keep myself together.
"I don't think you handled things very well." I told him after we tried to make small talk for a few minutes. He didn't think there was a good way to handle things.
"True. But you could have waited until after my birthday, after this session with the counselor, and you didn't have to tell all my friends before you told me."
He conceded that he could have waited the extra 2 days, but wouldn't agree about the friends piece. "I had to find a place to live." Agree to disagree then.
The session with the counselor was awful. It was 10+ minutes of him saying why our relationship was so bad, why he left and how he basically didn't think things would ever get better. I sat there quietly, getting more and more angry at all the half-truths and things that he had clearly "misremembered".
My husband is, I explained to the counselor, a malcontent. Nothing is ever good enough and nothing is ever satisfying or fulfilling. He looks to external things for happiness and, not surprisingly, never finds it. It was only my own naivety that stopped me from realizing that it was only a matter of time until I was the thing that wasn't good enough and that was stopping him from being happy.
It went back and forth like that for a while before the counselor said that he needed to be honest, with himself and with me, about whether or not he wanted things to work or he was weaning himself off the relationship with this "separation".
He said both.
The counselor told him he couldn't do both, so he said that he did want to try to work things about BUT that things would need to change if we were ever going to work out. "Things" in this case meant me; I had to change if we were going to stay together. I had to be tidier and I had to lose weight. Period. He wasn't going to change anything, wasn't going to put any effort in.
Eventually, the counselor convinced him that effort had to be both ways and that efforts had to be acknowledged when they did happen.
She also gave me some weight loss tips. And at the same time acknowledged that because of a health issue (PCOS), it would be really, really difficult for me to do that. She also suggested living separately permanently, like in half a duplex or in suites in a house. She also said we had to decide what we were willing to live with/without...
Okay, so: Is the goal that I lose weight, get tidy, we live apart, we never have a sex life, we never have kids? If that's the case, I am not on board. That wasn't part of our vows and not what I signed up for.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Back to life, back to reality
It might have seemed like the longest weekend ever, but now it's Monday morning and it's time for life to carry on like normal.
I'm not a very good sleeper in the best of situations, so these last few nights have been particularly awful. I woke up early and had one of those awful waking dreams where something terrible happens and then you have that amazing moment of relief as you wake up, when you realize it was only a dream. This time, though, that was followed by the sinking feeling that it wasn't a dream. He really did leave.
Even still, when I looked at my alarm clock this morning after hours of tossing and turning, I re-set it for later and huddled down further into the covers. If I could hide here for a while longer, I would. I don't want to go to work and have people ask me why I look so tired. I don't want to sit at my desk with a million things to do and not be able to concentrate on any of them. I don't want to do any of it. Not today.
Inevitably, I have to get up and get on with my day. First up, drag my ass out of bed and try to throw together an outfit and do myself up in a way that doesn't read "Had the worst weekend of all time". Then, drag my ass out the door and get to work... ideally, on time. Then just a quick 8 hours of work and I can come home again. Not for long, though, because tonight is our first session with the counselor since he left. For that, it seems even more important that I don't go in looking like the bride of Frankenstein. Then home. Then sleep. Then do it all again.
I'm not a very good sleeper in the best of situations, so these last few nights have been particularly awful. I woke up early and had one of those awful waking dreams where something terrible happens and then you have that amazing moment of relief as you wake up, when you realize it was only a dream. This time, though, that was followed by the sinking feeling that it wasn't a dream. He really did leave.
Even still, when I looked at my alarm clock this morning after hours of tossing and turning, I re-set it for later and huddled down further into the covers. If I could hide here for a while longer, I would. I don't want to go to work and have people ask me why I look so tired. I don't want to sit at my desk with a million things to do and not be able to concentrate on any of them. I don't want to do any of it. Not today.
Inevitably, I have to get up and get on with my day. First up, drag my ass out of bed and try to throw together an outfit and do myself up in a way that doesn't read "Had the worst weekend of all time". Then, drag my ass out the door and get to work... ideally, on time. Then just a quick 8 hours of work and I can come home again. Not for long, though, because tonight is our first session with the counselor since he left. For that, it seems even more important that I don't go in looking like the bride of Frankenstein. Then home. Then sleep. Then do it all again.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Is it because...?
The following probably goes without saying but in case there are any of you that don't know the social "dos" and "don'ts" of talking to someone going through a break up, here's a helpful hint:
If the broken up person says they either don't know or don't want to talk about why a break up has occurred, don't just start guessing.
Example: "Hmm, do you think maybe it's because of your weight?" or "Could it be because you don't have much of a career?"
If someone loses their job, you don't ask them if they think it's because they're stupid or lazy. Yet somehow playing "pin the tail on the break up reason" is fair game for some people.
How could that possibly help the situation? Regardless of whether you've sleuthed out the mystery behind the break up, your guessing is only going to make the person feel worse about themselves AND not only will it point out the negative things about that person, but that THEY have noticed these things and consider them logical reasons behind someone leaving.
It's like if someone finds our their ex has jumped straight into another relationship and then gets asked, "Do you think they were seeing them behind your back?" Of course that thought has crossed your mind and now it's just been confirmed as a legitimate concern. How is that helpful? How is that supportive?
At least I don't have to worry about the second scenario... I can think of a lot of choice adjectives for my ex right now, but I know that "cheater" isn't one of them.
But seriously, don't guess why he left. If there's a reason, I've thought of it. I don't need help compiling of list, thankyouverymuch.
If the broken up person says they either don't know or don't want to talk about why a break up has occurred, don't just start guessing.
Example: "Hmm, do you think maybe it's because of your weight?" or "Could it be because you don't have much of a career?"
If someone loses their job, you don't ask them if they think it's because they're stupid or lazy. Yet somehow playing "pin the tail on the break up reason" is fair game for some people.
How could that possibly help the situation? Regardless of whether you've sleuthed out the mystery behind the break up, your guessing is only going to make the person feel worse about themselves AND not only will it point out the negative things about that person, but that THEY have noticed these things and consider them logical reasons behind someone leaving.
It's like if someone finds our their ex has jumped straight into another relationship and then gets asked, "Do you think they were seeing them behind your back?" Of course that thought has crossed your mind and now it's just been confirmed as a legitimate concern. How is that helpful? How is that supportive?
At least I don't have to worry about the second scenario... I can think of a lot of choice adjectives for my ex right now, but I know that "cheater" isn't one of them.
But seriously, don't guess why he left. If there's a reason, I've thought of it. I don't need help compiling of list, thankyouverymuch.
Day 2 - If it's not one thing, it's your mother
Last night, my first night alone, was predictably awful.
I had been trying all evening to get in touch with my parents because tonight was supposed to be a family dinner for my birthday. Since I obviously don't feel in the most celebratory of moods, I wanted to let my parents know -in short form- what is going on so that I could excuse myself from my own birthday dinner.
Oddly enough, my parents stayed out until 11:30, so I spent over 2 hours in a mild form of panic as I tried over and over to get in touch with them. Though they are probably the best of intentions, my mother likes to know exactly what is going on at all times and there are some things that I'd just rather not talk about. Add to that the fact that our relationship hasn't been without it's own share of trauma (including a particularly bad exchange on my wedding day that resulted in months of not talking and then several more months in mediation to work things out), I felt like my heart might explode while I was trying to get in touch with her to tell her my marriage is on the rocks.
I finally did get a hold of her and she did ask me a load of questions that I didn't, and still don't, feel ready to answer and while she did let me out of the birthday dinner, she also said we would get together today for tea.
What else then would wake me up today after having finally fallen asleep at around 9 am then a call from my mother to tell me, not so much ask me, that we were going out for a walk?
Three hours later, my mother has left and I find myself in my empty condo once again. She's told me that she plans to call every day to check in with me and also has plans to come over and take my dog out in the mornings. Luckily, my condo unit door has a bizarrely high-tech lock that makes it impossible to get keys cut so I can't give her a key and what she will likely consider an open invitation to my home. One crisis avoided.
I appreciate the concern but there are some things that are better left unsaid between a mother and daughter, especially one that is quick to ask if my marital problems are caused by my weight. In that I weigh too much, that is.
Of course, I told her no. The "I told you so" and the "Let's go to the gym together every day until you're fit and skinny" is more than I can take right now. Ironically, my mother's fixation with my weight started long before I was over weight. And yes, it is a huge issue in my marriage but to admit that to the person who has always made you feel like the fattest girl in the room? It's just not going to happen.
Besides, is weight gain a legitimate reason for walking out of a marriage? Is attraction between two people conditional on their partner's weight? For my husband, it is. And for his asshole single friends with their stick-insect-bodied girlfriends and insistence on Brazilian waxed lady parts, it's a huge deal-breaker.
When did the shapeless, hairless body type of a 12 year old boy become the ideal male fantasy? Worse, though, when did that fantasy trump the commitment of a marriage?
Regardless, that's not the only issue that got us to the place we're at today (Read: two separate places) but it's also the one that I am going to keep fairly tight-lipped about because being left is humiliating enough. Being left because you're too fat? A whole other level of humiliation that I am not prepared for.
I had been trying all evening to get in touch with my parents because tonight was supposed to be a family dinner for my birthday. Since I obviously don't feel in the most celebratory of moods, I wanted to let my parents know -in short form- what is going on so that I could excuse myself from my own birthday dinner.
Oddly enough, my parents stayed out until 11:30, so I spent over 2 hours in a mild form of panic as I tried over and over to get in touch with them. Though they are probably the best of intentions, my mother likes to know exactly what is going on at all times and there are some things that I'd just rather not talk about. Add to that the fact that our relationship hasn't been without it's own share of trauma (including a particularly bad exchange on my wedding day that resulted in months of not talking and then several more months in mediation to work things out), I felt like my heart might explode while I was trying to get in touch with her to tell her my marriage is on the rocks.
I finally did get a hold of her and she did ask me a load of questions that I didn't, and still don't, feel ready to answer and while she did let me out of the birthday dinner, she also said we would get together today for tea.
What else then would wake me up today after having finally fallen asleep at around 9 am then a call from my mother to tell me, not so much ask me, that we were going out for a walk?
Three hours later, my mother has left and I find myself in my empty condo once again. She's told me that she plans to call every day to check in with me and also has plans to come over and take my dog out in the mornings. Luckily, my condo unit door has a bizarrely high-tech lock that makes it impossible to get keys cut so I can't give her a key and what she will likely consider an open invitation to my home. One crisis avoided.
I appreciate the concern but there are some things that are better left unsaid between a mother and daughter, especially one that is quick to ask if my marital problems are caused by my weight. In that I weigh too much, that is.
Of course, I told her no. The "I told you so" and the "Let's go to the gym together every day until you're fit and skinny" is more than I can take right now. Ironically, my mother's fixation with my weight started long before I was over weight. And yes, it is a huge issue in my marriage but to admit that to the person who has always made you feel like the fattest girl in the room? It's just not going to happen.
Besides, is weight gain a legitimate reason for walking out of a marriage? Is attraction between two people conditional on their partner's weight? For my husband, it is. And for his asshole single friends with their stick-insect-bodied girlfriends and insistence on Brazilian waxed lady parts, it's a huge deal-breaker.
When did the shapeless, hairless body type of a 12 year old boy become the ideal male fantasy? Worse, though, when did that fantasy trump the commitment of a marriage?
Regardless, that's not the only issue that got us to the place we're at today (Read: two separate places) but it's also the one that I am going to keep fairly tight-lipped about because being left is humiliating enough. Being left because you're too fat? A whole other level of humiliation that I am not prepared for.
Day 1
2737 Days. That's roughly how long we've been together. And today, he moved out.
Yesterday was my 28th birthday, which says something about his timing. It also says that I haven't been single since I was 20 years old.
34 days. That's how long it's been since our 1st wedding anniversary. That's how long it's been since we stood up in front of 100 of our friends and family and promised to love each other forever. For him, it turns out that "forever" was only a matter of days... 400 days, give or take.
15 hours. That's how long it's been since he left, carrying a suitcase and a bag of toiletries. It's been 15 hours that I've been wanting to call him and ask him to come home, to ask him what he's doing... to tell him he's making a big mistake.
When he was leaving, I left our condo and went to my sister's house. My friend met me there and we eventually came back to the condo that we both own, but that now only I live in. Then another friend arrived and stayed until an hour or so ago. Even then, they wanted me to come to their houses for the night or offered to stay here with me so that I wouldn't have to be alone. But now I'm here, alone, for the first time since he left.
It wasn't my idea, this break up. Even if I wasn't perfectly content with our relationship, I wasn't ready to give up and we went from "working on it" to "taking some time apart" so fast that no work actually got done. Now he keeps saying that we've been "trying for so long", but I can't think of a single thing he did to try to improve the situation. At least that's one thing I've got... I tried. I tried harder than I think most people would. At least I went down fighting.
I never thought we'd be a statistic, one of the 50% (or is it 60% now?) that don't make it. We've only been married for a year, but we've lived together for nearly seven. You'd think... or at least, I thought... that if it wasn't going to work, it would have fallen apart by now. Because I haven't changed, not in the last 4-5 years anyway. If anything, the "issues" that were bringing us down have gotten better, so why now?
I found out yesterday, on my birthday, that one of my closest friends is 2 months pregnant. When I told my husband that our friends are expecting, he said, "But they aren't married". As happy as I am for her and her boyfriend, who are very much committed and in love, all I could think was "That should be me". One of the reasons we got married after 6 years together was because we both wanted kids and we both wanted to be married first. Now we're married, and he told me today that he would "never get to the point where he was comfortable having kids with me" because of how unhappy he is in the relationship. Ow.
I'm terrified of being alone. I'm so angry that I am supposed to be in a certain phase of my life and now I am suddenly nowhere near there. I'm sad. I'm really, really sad.
We are going to see a counselor on Monday. I booked the appointment a week ago, when things were rocky but we were still together. Until then, I don't know what the rules are. I don't think I should call, but I want to. I don't think I'll hear from him, but I miss him. I want him to come home. But he won't.
Yesterday was my 28th birthday, which says something about his timing. It also says that I haven't been single since I was 20 years old.
34 days. That's how long it's been since our 1st wedding anniversary. That's how long it's been since we stood up in front of 100 of our friends and family and promised to love each other forever. For him, it turns out that "forever" was only a matter of days... 400 days, give or take.
15 hours. That's how long it's been since he left, carrying a suitcase and a bag of toiletries. It's been 15 hours that I've been wanting to call him and ask him to come home, to ask him what he's doing... to tell him he's making a big mistake.
When he was leaving, I left our condo and went to my sister's house. My friend met me there and we eventually came back to the condo that we both own, but that now only I live in. Then another friend arrived and stayed until an hour or so ago. Even then, they wanted me to come to their houses for the night or offered to stay here with me so that I wouldn't have to be alone. But now I'm here, alone, for the first time since he left.
It wasn't my idea, this break up. Even if I wasn't perfectly content with our relationship, I wasn't ready to give up and we went from "working on it" to "taking some time apart" so fast that no work actually got done. Now he keeps saying that we've been "trying for so long", but I can't think of a single thing he did to try to improve the situation. At least that's one thing I've got... I tried. I tried harder than I think most people would. At least I went down fighting.
I never thought we'd be a statistic, one of the 50% (or is it 60% now?) that don't make it. We've only been married for a year, but we've lived together for nearly seven. You'd think... or at least, I thought... that if it wasn't going to work, it would have fallen apart by now. Because I haven't changed, not in the last 4-5 years anyway. If anything, the "issues" that were bringing us down have gotten better, so why now?
I found out yesterday, on my birthday, that one of my closest friends is 2 months pregnant. When I told my husband that our friends are expecting, he said, "But they aren't married". As happy as I am for her and her boyfriend, who are very much committed and in love, all I could think was "That should be me". One of the reasons we got married after 6 years together was because we both wanted kids and we both wanted to be married first. Now we're married, and he told me today that he would "never get to the point where he was comfortable having kids with me" because of how unhappy he is in the relationship. Ow.
I'm terrified of being alone. I'm so angry that I am supposed to be in a certain phase of my life and now I am suddenly nowhere near there. I'm sad. I'm really, really sad.
We are going to see a counselor on Monday. I booked the appointment a week ago, when things were rocky but we were still together. Until then, I don't know what the rules are. I don't think I should call, but I want to. I don't think I'll hear from him, but I miss him. I want him to come home. But he won't.
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