I married two men who didn’t deserve me. My first marriage was with a man I loved beyond words. He was kindhearted and gentle with me. We planned a future and had two children together. The boys were high-spirited and wonderful, and a handful for me to manage.
The responsibility of raising them often fell upon me, as he often traveled for work. All the parent-teacher conferences alone, the ball parks in the summer, and the decisions that I needed to make for them to grow into responsible and moral men, fell on me.
This man, their dad, didn’t deserve my naive devotion and love. He didn’t deserve my heart of kindness that overflowed to him consistently.
He lied to me. I’m not sure when it began, but he says it started about two years into our 23-year marriage. Of course, that could be a lie too. I’m also not sure how often he was unfaithful with men, but it doesn’t matter. He didn’t deserve me.
Incredibly discombobulated, I married another man who didn’t deserve me. He sweet-talked me and gave me a vision of life with love. His family story was that he was the result of a botched abortion. His mom raised him this way, as a bother who she never wanted.
In hindsight, the poor guy probably didn’t have much of a chance for self-esteem and to be kindhearted after his own mother told him she wanted to abort him, but the abortion didn’t take. I found myself living in a glass prison where I did nothing right, he demanded I stay in the house all day while he worked.
If he suspected I was out in the yard, I paid for it with his anger and words. Berating me and verbally abusing me was his pastime, to the point where I lost who I was.
I then became single for 10 years. A reset was in order. I wanted to move ahead in life, happier. I needed to learn some life lessons that were heart wrenching.
First, that no one has the right to lie, abuse, and make me feel like I don’t count. No one.
I needed to grow a backbone and take care of myself instead of being so caring of everyone to the point of worthlessness.
I needed to find my own independence from a man’s wealth, without anyone taking care of me, except me.
Even though I wanted to be connected to someone, I had to learn it’s OK not to be.
These lessons came with lots of mistakes and failures. I even had several dates with men in those 10 years, that carried on where they left off. Until I didn’t.
I married a man who deserved me. Yes, another marriage, as my heart sought to connect with true love at least once in my life. This man, who has had his own heartaches in life, is kind to a default. He is devoted to me, his wife.
He loves me when sometimes I’m crabby and unlovable. He can make me laugh over silly happenings and is a truly good man.
I found what my heart wanted all along. To love and be loved. The journey to this point was full of heart break. The journey here has been worth it.
Can you relate to this story? Have you had your heart burned and hurt so much it’s broken? Have you given up on love and marriage? If you have been brave and married again, how is it going?
Tags Marriage After 60