A couple of years of zombie-walking later…
my husband and I moved to another state. He was moving closer to his family; I was moving to make him happy. I thought by doing this for him, he would come to realize the beautiful sacrifice that I made for him. And by extension I was beautiful.
Did I really believe that?
Literally, within hours of arriving at our new home I knew the terrible mistake that I had made. I did not receive the appreciation that I thought I would.
What happened was that all the dysfunction and issues in our marriage before we relocated were not left behind, they were amplified and highlighted.
There was no denying that our marriage was being given little puffs of oxygen by my idealism when it just wanted me to let it die.
Needless to say, the potential for adventure and re-invention in this new place were lost to my resentment and anger. I was not aware that I was still holding on to what he had said, and that by doing so, I had taken it with me. I wore his words like a Scarlett Letter.
Real Love
So, after a year and a half of courting disaster, I began making plans to return to my hometown. I gave my two weeks’ notice.
Upon learning that I was leaving my husband behind, a few co-workers pressed me for the reason for my departure. There were a lot of things that I could have said. But it was just that one thing that rose to the surface and his words spilled from my mouth.
They audibly gasped in unison. They knew that whether it was true or not, it was fundamentally wrong for him to say such words to me.
Real love blurs the vision of the beholder, and all imperfections fade away. It was obvious to them that he in fact did not love me.
Love should be someone who sees you better than you see yourself.
On My Way Back Home
Two weeks later I was on my way back home. I secretly hoped he would not follow. As long as he stayed there his words would stay with him and I would be free.
Once back home, I was unfettered by his absence. I felt amazing without his eyes on me.
Then, a couple of months later, he returned. Our relationship was slightly better, I think because he knew then that he could lose me. However, the words just settled gingerly in-between us like a wound that might never heal.
Years later, on the verge of divorce, I told my then therapist of my husband’s sentiments. Dumbfounded, she explained that what she beheld in front of her was what she thought an attractive woman.
I realized then that all the people in the world could disagree with him. They could tell me that I was beautiful and support my decision to leave him. It would all mean nothing unless I believed it. Unless I believed that my unhappiness was validation enough.
Belief Behind the Words
It felt good to say it out loud, share my secret, but fruitless, nonetheless. I had flung the words out like something crawling on me in the darkness. I could not see that the belief behind the words remained on my skin.
His words hurt me so much because he expressed what I had been telling myself all along. I was not pretty. The belief behind the words was that because of how I looked on the outside, I was not important. I was not worthy of success, love, and adoration.
I not only kept what he said to me a secret from my friends and family, I essentially kept the fact that I believed what he said about me a secret from myself as well.
“The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn’t one.”
Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
Leave a Reply