After picking up my new glasses and dropping a package at the UPS store, I headed to the coffee shop for my usual. An Aerosmith song came on the radio, and I recognized it as Aerosmith, but didn’t realize exactly which song it was for a minute or so.This song used to spark that feeling the young people get when they think of that one person who really lights them on fire. I was seventeen. I’d had a mad crush on this person for over a year. He’d finally confessed that he felt the same.
He was a local rock star. It was the 80s, so there was actually a pretty lively scene in my tiny community.
The song on the radio was “Angel.” It caused a flood of emotion. One time when we were alone, that song came on, and he sang it to me with hand gestures. “Without your love I’m nothing but a beggar.” He fell to his knees, hands grasped, eyes pleading. ” Without your love a dog without a bone.” He bit the side of his hand.
I melted into a puddle.
It was absolute magic in the beginning.
But then it wasn’t.
I’d been taught that saving oneself for marriage was more important than just about anything else. Like other boyfriends, he swore he wasn’t after that, and then he slowly began pushing boundaries.
He was slightly older than me. Three and a half years, to be exact. He wanted me to move in with him after I graduated from high school. I told him I couldn’t do that. It would set a bad example.
He began to do things that felt disrespectful, but due to other factors in my life, I couldn’t stand the thought of no one wanting me.
It took about a year before I got tired of wrestling. No one ever told me where the boundaries were. No one ever told me that if a man respects you, he’ll take no for an answer the very first time.
As soon as it was over, I told him I didn’t want to do that again. He mocked me. We married the following summer.
My childhood had been full of physical violence, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, etc. Having a husband who had a job, didn’t cheat, and didn’t drink or do drugs made me feel like I had nothing to complain about.
We were married for eight years before I finally decided that if I didn’t get out, I’d shrivel up and die. It was pretty much right after I finished college, so that was used against me. I’d just used him for his money. He worked in retail.
I’m not proud of this, but I had cheated on him. I don’t know why I did. I think it was part of that “feeling like nobody wanted me” thing.
I finally worked up the strength to tell him I wanted out. It was ugly. He broke into the house when I was out and found an email to the man I’d cheated with. He took it to my mother’s house and showed her.
Everything spiraled, then. Our divorce was final on what would have been our 9th anniversary. Three months later, he took his own life.
I spent years blaming myself for this. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be happy?
Then I started getting therapy. Let me list some of the things that didn’t occur to me were signs to get out until much later in life:
- He would often be hours late to pick me up from work. I’d have to sit outside in the dark and cold while he and his buddy rode around listening to music. Then when he’d finally arrive, he’d laugh like it was cute that I was angry.
- He budgeted every cent we had to the last penny. He could have all the guitars and equipment he wanted. I was still wearing underwear and shoes from high school.
- He expected me to attend every band practice, but would complain that I was taking time from “us” when I read a book.
- He gave me $40/wk for gas and groceries and list of things he had to have: Lunchables, Cool Ranch Doritos, Diet Pepsi. Then I could plan meals with whatever was left over after putting gas in my car to commute an hour to school twice a week. This part meant that I was hungry a lot. On school days, I had no money to get lunch. I would leave my house at 7:00AM and not get home until after 9:00 PM. I had so much shame associated with food and my body that I never complained. I just kept quiet. (I didn’t figure this out until this year because I’ve been in therapy pretty much ever since he died).
I don’t want to be angry with him, anymore. I mostly just feel sad. He was a sweet man and beloved by most who knew him.
I realize now that he had some significant mental health issues and neither of us had seen a single example of a healthy marriage.
But hearing that song, and remembering that night...
I just needed to share
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