Things I Don’t Miss, Being a Single Mom
You know, for every good bit, there’s a bad bit. I posted yesterday about what things I miss in my new life as a single mom. (I say “new life” but I’ve been a single mom since October 2001, when I left X.) Today it’s the opposite: what I don’t miss.
First off, I don’t miss the abuse. I don’t miss being told how stupid and worthless, lazy and incompetent I am. I don’t miss being blamed for every bad thing that happens. You know, sometimes bad things just happen, and it’s nobody’s fault. I don’t miss the isolation. X was an isolator. It hadn’t gotten too extreme when I left him (like the guy who wouldn’t even let his wife go to the grocery or the hairdresser by herself), but it was headed that way. I don’t miss having to walk on eggshells when he was having a hard time. I don’t miss having to interpose myself between him and my kids to protect them from his excessive behaviours.
I don’t miss the embarrassment of having to cover for X, of having to make light of boorish behaviour and smooth offended feelings. I don’t miss having to tread warily around those areas in which he felt inferior to me or to the world.
I don’t miss the manipulation. I don’t miss being told that I was a vile sinner when I opposed something he wanted to do. I don’t miss being told that if I would shut up and be content and submissive, that we wouldn’t have problems. I don’t miss having two faces — the public “perfect family” face, and the “behind closed doors” face. I don’t miss the double standard of what’s all right for me is not all right for you. I don’t miss the inferiority that made him protest against anything I wanted to do: like teach for the Red Cross or edit books from home. I don’t miss having to make like Clara Barton and Florence Nightingale when he was sick, but being told how lazy and useless I was when I was sick.
I don’t miss being told what I may and may not do. Don’t get me wrong. I believe in wifely submission, as long as it’s not carried too far. I don’t think a husband ought to be telling his wife that she may not cut her hair or read a certain author or eat a certain food. As long as it’s not a thing that will physically hurt her, like reading porn or smoking crack. If it’s something innocuous, like working jigsaws or eating broccoli, let her alone. If she likes broccoli, let her eat it. She’s not forcing it on you just because it’s on her plate or in a serving bowl in the middle of the table.
I don’t miss being told that it’s a sin to use birth control. I don’t miss being told that using credit cards and having a mortgage on your home is a sin. I don’t miss being called a hypochondriac — funny how that particular illness landed me in surgery, and I was completely well afterwards! I don’t miss being called paranoid — funny how you’re now hearing about kids being snatched from their front yards (or even their own bedrooms) when mom’s back is turned.
So whenever I get too down about things that I miss out on because of my single-momness, I remember how bad it was when I was married. As much as I miss being home with my kids, nothing would make me go back. Nothing is worth the pain, humiliation, degradation, and cruelty I suffered. And there is no way I would put my kids through that again. Life is actually pretty good … despite the hardships we face. At least our minds and souls are our own.
7 Comments
Yes, thanks for the reminder! But you mean he objected to say getting one little shot every 3 months too?
“Birth control, of any sort, is a sin.” And, you know, I used to believe that, too. That was BC (before children). When the second one made his presence in my womb known a mere nine months after the first one was born, and when I had a twice-as-long labour with the second one, the midwife and the family physician said, “This gal needs a rest of at least three years, and preferably four, before you go for the next one.” And, yes, I very much wanted a “next one.” But I also wanted to be in decent health before I opened door #3. And I wanted to weigh less than a Honda Accord.
I couldn’t use implants or the pill because of other health issues. When I bought a basal thermometer, he found ways to sabotage my using it properly. He finally went to the “abstinence” solution, which I tolerated for a while. When I couldn’t stand that anymore, I went out and bought some birth control stuff. He was absolutely furious and didn’t speak to me for days.
I know you know how much I believe in submission … but I have limits. The abuse would have been 2 sided. I could see myself punching him in the face … regularly.
Don’t think I didn’t take my revenge. The only problem is, that is now where I have the most guilt about our relationship. I wasn’t perfect by any stretch, and I contributed to the downfall of my marriage. It wasn’t a 50/50 split, but I still had a hand in it.
Were you married to my ex?
Great piece, relate too well.
I’m not sure what to say… You had me riveted through the entire piece. I don’t suppose you’d mind a little email from a very confused young married mom? Some of this sounds all too familiar.
I never object to e-mail. I lost all but one of my friends in the divorce, so I don’t get much e-mail. Unless pornographic spam counts as e-mail.