Last night I talked about setting boundaries. One of the most important boundaries is no more lying, from others or from myself. So I took a good hard look at the reality of living with the ex. Here is how it broke down:
Happy Memories:
· He teared up at our wedding. I asked him why and he said he was happy.
· He teared up when I was having some physical therapy done and they were hurting me. When I asked why he was crying – he said because they are hurting you.
· The few times he would actually show up for our relationship we did have some nice times.
Not so Happy Memories:
· He forgot to pick me up at the airport when I returned from a trip
· He left me standing outside of work after they closed because he lost track of time – it was in the winter, so I was stuck out in the dark and cold.
· He embarrassed me when we went out with friends. He would sit there with this awful look on his face as if here was the last place he wanted to be.
· He told me he was no longer attracted to me because I had gained weight and if I needed sex to give him a three day notice so he could build up to it.
· He stole the first $10 dollars I ever made from a new business I started off the table that I was saving to frame.
· He didn’t buy me Christmas presents the first three years we were together, even though he got a bunch from me.
· He told me to shut the fuck up while he was playing online chess one night because I was upset with him for leaving me stuck somewhere because he was too busy to answer the phone, even though in my message I said it was an emergency.
· When dining out, he would order his food, and then go sleep in the car until it came, leaving me sitting there all alone. After awhile I stopped texting him dinner was on the table, so I would wind up dining alone. He would come in upset that I never texted him when the food arrived.
· I asked for a date night once, took him to dinner on my dime of course. He sat there the whole time texting his tennis buddies setting up a game for the next day.
· He said he didn’t want to work because he was getting old and wanted to enjoy his life. He had no problem sponging off of me for almost three years. Mind you I am only 2 years younger than him and he had no problem with me killing myself to support him.
· He did nothing around the house while I was working. When I called him on it, he said I thought you liked doing all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and working full time. What an asshole!
I could go on and on, but you get the point. The ugly truth is I did not love myself enough to stand up for myself, and tell him to get the hell out. He used me, but I allowed it to happen.
And there is the truth of the matter.
No more lying to myself. He was a shithole, but he was in my life because I allowed it. No more, because now I live in the world of the truth. All of a sudden I don't miss him so much.