thankful thursday - divorce edition

I’m in a bit of a philosophical mood today. Three years ago today, you see, I married the man who claimed to be my Prince Charming and turned out to be the worst sort of monster I’ve ever faced. I still, at times, am shocked to remember just how unkind he was, how rude, how hateful, how abusive and crass. I still shudder at the memories of things he said and did to me and my children. And I still, to this day, can’t believe my good fortune in escaping that horrible reality.

He celebrated our first anniversary by beginning an affair with one of his employees… which led to his firing a month later. His gift to me? Vanilla potpourri. I don’t even like vanilla.
I celebrated our second anniversary by having a complete meltdown at the office, having to take a day off (which I could ill afford) and gorging on bbq ribs and banana pudding to ease my pain. I gotta tell ya… they helped a little. I won't be doing that this year. I may not have the focus I need to have - apologies to my employer - but I'm able to work. I'm getting better.
Our divorce was final earlier this year… and so there is no third anniversary, praise God. I am single, free, independent, healthy, strong, wiser, peaceful…
And this, my friends, is Thankful Thursday – the divorce edition. Indulge me.

I’m thankful that I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not to satisfy the constantly changing whims of a mentally unstable narcissist.
I’m thankful that I can sing in the car now. I can wear my hair in a ponytail. I can wear open toed shoes if I want. I can wear sweats to dinner.
I can watch Big Brother, Ugly Betty or any of the other shows that he thought were beneath him.
I can sleep on top of the covers.
I can set the thermostat where I want/need it to be.
I can hang clothes any which way I please on the coat hanger without having to fear a “no wire hangers” tantrum from him because I hung a shirt facing “the wrong way”.
I don’t have to listen to the most unloving person in the world tell me I “don’t know what love is”… when the sad, tragic fact of his life is that HE never will know what love is.
I’m thankful that I’m not living with someone who is living a double life… hiding debt issues, medical issues, mental issues, tax evasion issues, clandestine affairs and God knows what else. My life is full of truth, honesty, openness, reality. No skeletons. No dirty secrets.
I’m thankful that I don’t have to live with someone so neurotic that they go into a panic attack when someone sneezes in their presence.
I’m thankful that I can be friends with whomever I choose, that I can blog about whatever I want, that I can go to bed as early – or late – as I want.
I’m thankful that my life is filled with people who are by nature Encouragers, not DIScouragers.
I can bring home leftovers.
I can eat an extra piece of bread at a restaurant if I want. Or a whole basket. It's my choice.
Interesting that a man who is so pro-choice that he would purposely drive by the abortion clinic to HECKLE the pro-lifers picketing... a pro-choice Catholic, at that... but he would not allow me to make any choice about my own body and what I put into it.
I can go to Weight Watchers.
I can take pictures while I’m in a moving vehicle (was totally NOT allowed to do this- I never figured out why).
I can go to Starbucks. Buy a Sunday paper (even if I don’t read the whole thing). I can spend more than $5 a day on “discretionary items”.
I can open all of the mail that comes to my home.
I can have precious kitty cats... instead of living with a man who swerves to intentionally run over them.
I can have internet.
I can have a home phone.
I can iron on the floor. We fought for three days about the fact that I iron on the floor… I mean… it may not be for everyone but they were my clothes, my iron… he was so upset with me for ironing on the floor that he slept in another room. It was ridiculous.
About as ridiculous as the time he spent 9 hours in our walk in closet “meditating” because he was upset with me for some imaginary wrong that I had committed.
My children are no longer called – the “n” word – because of their supposed poor work ethics. I’ll put my kids’ work habits up against his kids' ANY DAY.
I’m no longer called the n word. Or “pill popper” or any of the other derogatory terms he applied to me.
My kids no longer get slugged for passing gas or other imagined offenses.
My kids no longer have to clean up after his kids.
I can let the clean laundry pile up and fold it when I feel like it.
I don’t have to explain every single action I take… while living with someone who is not accountable to anyone.
I don’t ever get pushed into the bathroom by the scruff of the neck to see one lone little qtip that had fallen on the floor that I had not noticed nor picked up.
I don’t ever get pushed into the kitchen by the scruff of the neck to see a speck of broccoli that had lingered on the floor – reportedly for a week – without my noticing. It just seemed to me that the person who SAW the broccoli without picking it up might be more accountable than a person who didn’t know it was there. But that’s just me.
I’m thankful that I can see my nieces whenever I want now.
I can go to church without being mocked.
I can believe in the God I’ve known all of my life without being challenged or contradicted.
I’m not used or abused or afraid for my future.
I’m thankful that I can see clearly who he is and what he did to my family.
I’m thankful that I can see God’s hand thru it all. How He held me, protected me, provided for me and even saved my life.
I’m thankful that I was able to find a home, a safe haven, a community, a place where I belong.
I’m thankful that I don’t miss him, that I realize that the best thing that ever happened to me was escaping that prison.
I’m thankful that I’ve had the patience to wait – to not rush into another relationship to keep from being alone. I’m thankful that I can value being single and that I am no longer trying to define myself based on my significant other.
I’m enough, all by myself. I’m thankful that I know that now.
I don’t doubt that he or someone associated with him will read this and see bitterness. I write it from a spirit of victory. To realize how far you’ve come, you have to remember where you started. I don’t dwell on it often but I know. Trust me, I know where I come from… I know who I am and whose I am. I know that nothing he said was truth – there was no truth in him. I know that I live a life of truth. It may not be what I want it to be – yet – but it’s honest.
So this is, truly, a thankful Thursday for me.
Love and hugs, y’all.