I don't ever remember dreaming of one day getting married when I was a child. My dreams were more centered around either fantasy or faraway places. When I did grow up and was in a serious relationship that eventually led to marriage, it didn't take long for me to know I had made a huge mistake.
For me, marriage seemed alright in theory, but when it came time to apply the theory to everyday life, what I found was that everyday life is a real ruthless bitch sometimes. Instead of immediately doing an exit stage left, I let my first marriage drag on for almost 10 years. I could say, it was for the kids' sake, but I'd be lying. The truth was I didn't know how to walk away by myself. I was more willing to stay in something that was clearly wrong than to find the courage to leave. I exited that relationship by starting another and another and another. For a very long time I had the morals of a common alley cat.
Looking back I can clearly see how my rebellious streak played a pivotal part in my decisions where men were concerned. If my friends and family hated the guy then he was the one I would pick. Red flags? I simply disregarded all of them! With my first husband, I say I overlooked his drinking problem until we actually lived together under one roof and we didn't live together until we got married. While we dated I just didn't see any evidence of alcoholism. I ask myself now did I overlook it because I wanted to overlook it or was he that good in covering it? I guess at this point, it really doesn't matter. What matters now is that although hindsight may be 20/20, foresight can also have the same clarity.
What also matters is the pattern I established early on in life. Instead of saving myself, each time I started a relationship it was a destructive one that whittled away at my core. I guess the truth isn't that I'm actually afraid of getting involved again due to the kind of men I attract. I'm afraid of myself and my need to be self destructive. I'm afraid of my impaired judgment. I'm afraid of history continually repeating itself.
The "funny" thing about my pattern is that over time it got worse and not better. I went from copying my mother and marrying a drunk to getting involved with someone so evil I dubbed him "The Anti-Christ" to marrying an actual nutcase to cruising the internet for hook-ups and everything imaginable inbetween each. We always rag on men for being dogs, but where sex was concerned I was far worse than any man.
I guess I'm being pretty hard on myself, but it's necessary so I'll finally allow myself to start to mend. It's necessary for me to connect the dots from being repeatedly abused as a child to wanting someone to prove to me that not all men are bad. I need to connect the dots of seeing that instead of finding someone who would love me, I punished myself by choosing those people who would reinforce all my fears. Failing in love was so much easier than succeeding has ever been.
Gratitude statement: Today, I'm thankful for riding the tides of love and hate and for knowing I can do far better than I have in the past. If love ever comes knocking again I feel I have the right tools to be able to love a good man.
All gibberish within ©2004-2011 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.