I wrote this when I realized my marriage had come to end, I can now share it, as I am a new person. I felt it might be interesting to see what a wife might feel like after reading another News24 user's story about her experience after having an affair.
Perhaps it would be easier to try and write all of these mixed emotions down. I cannot help but feel betrayed, why shouldn’t I. I made a decision to give it my all, and I know what I gave up in that process. Nothing monetary, nothing to gain but a feeling that I can never get back because I chose the one person who would throw that sacrifice to show my true feelings in my face.
I feel so hurt that some days it feels that this would all be easier if it never happened. All except one crucial factor, my son, because if not for him, I would not know what unconditional love is. I would give anything up for him, even if it were my own life. But I cannot sacrifice my own integrity anymore by staying in a situation only to delude him with what he imagines to be a happy family. How I hope he will be a better man.
Which reminds me, for my friends who get Pearl Jam ‘She lies and says she’s in love with him, can’t find a better man’…sometimes I’d sing those words and you would hear me and although it was sung in jest, oh, how it pained as my throat strained and my heart strings tore because I knew the truth was so close.
And the lies, they have the ability to turn a sane, strong woman into someone infantile in disbelief. But the lie that will hurt me the most? Lying to myself, knowing that he never gave a damn. Convincing myself that it was worth a shot. Christmas cake!!!! I must have been high on fresh air (yes, I am aware that fresh air in Jozi is rare, so it might just be those toxic fumes I’ve heard rumour of).
So, now that I’ve bitched and moaned: thrown a pity party and realised that I was the one who should have been all the wiser. Where to from here?
Well, I thought about smacking the old bastard with a spade (I would like to trademark the word spade on account of it being my most frequently used word since discovering his affair), I have even considered approaching his new lass but upon realising that she does not grasp the concept of sarcasm this would be fruitless as I doubt the intelligence levels go beyond grade school and besides she’s not to blame. I didn’t see her at the altar promising all that airy-fairy love crap on our wedding day. Nope it was him, the old bastard who stood there like a goof all smiles and tearful. But in all fairness, what would all this violence and vindictiveness achieve? Nothing more than a bitter ex with whom I have to share my son’s life eternally and potentially a bunny boiler stalker who cannot comprehend sarcasm.
So, here’s my story (I would love to stick to it but some days are easier than others). Now, he’s an old bastard who cant commit to breakfast but a father who has been great in the past and has the ability to be an even better one in the future, so can we just share custody? Yes, I said it. This is not going to be a revenge tactic (there are women out there questioning my sanity), he has every right to enjoy this child’s life as much as I do. So, from here on out lets try some civility.
Also, I’d like to get over hiding in my home, what’s the point? I’m not the one who ran the streets rampant with some juvenile bottle blonde. No sir, I was jeopardising relationships with friends and family because I spent night after night pent up with said child at home watching repeats of Toy Story and Finding Nemo (if anyone needs a copy of the screenplay for either, I am more than willing to hand write it word for word out my head). All my Disney Pixar knowledge acquired while waiting patiently for the old bastard to come home from those ridiculously late ‘meetings’. So, here I come world – 28 year old, busty brunette with attitude en route to a new life and a long over due hangover.
To the new women in his life, if nothing more, give me the opportunity to ask you two very important things. One, for the love of your soul, don’t lose your self. Don’t let him belittle you to the point where you cannot make a single decision on your own and you wake up every morning questioning your self worth. Its not going to benefit anyone but him and essentially your soul will die. I was fortunate enough to wake up in the harsh reality that life now is, to find myself still 12 years his junior, intelligent, attractive (not attractive like some people tick on dating websites when they should be moving the cursor over average instead), nope, I’ve still got it. And I am more confident now then ever before.
Two, if you’re still paying attention, and haven’t run for the hills like I should’ve. My son, old bastard comes as a package deal, DFIU. You’re female, you come with maternal instincts, do your best and I will be your best ally should he mess you around too, if not, we can just act like sophomoric cheerleaders and sweat the small stuff over the jock who in essence is an arse.
All in all, yes, I am hurt and no I am not going to alter my genetic make-up with peroxide and silicone to achieve what old bastard believes to be true beauty. I am true beauty and it reflects from the inside out. So, I wave my white flag, you have won old bastard. You're 40, balding, on juice, dating the plastic equivalent of Barbie and emotionally dead. I lose, I'm 28, gravity has not yet affected my great bits, educated and skilled.