To Be Fair

There have been some interesting developments in my life. Interesting is a word I usually use when I lack any other word that can describe…well, anything. So, interesting it is.
I’ve been to a divorce lawyer. Of course in the history of adage, there could be no two worse words put together in one phrase. I prefer dissolution specialist, since in Missouri you don’t get a divorce. You get a dissolution of marriage, which sounds a lot better.

It’s not.

Divorce or dissolution, whichever you prefer, is a horrible and ugly task. It’s an unwinding of a beautifully crafted relationship. Even the worst relationships are so complex and have so many nuances that you can’t not call them beautiful. They are masterpieces.

The benefit that I’ve retained from my two shrink sessions is being able to identify my problems. I can do that now. I can tell already, even before the ink has dried on the retainer check, that my biggest problem is going to be trusting that I can make my own decisions without my husband. I worry that years of extensive compromise and the burial of my own personality will mean my decisions will be weak and ineffectual and maybe even wrong. I worry about that.

I don’t have to.

Firstly, it’s not true. Even for a woman of 29 years, I’ve had enough experiences to know that while I may not be the best planner in life, I can make decisions. The fact that some of them will be wrong shouldn't stop me from making them. Everyone makes wrong decisions. It’s how we deal with the fallout of those decisions that makes us who we are, what shapes our self-image, not how few we make or how many.

Sadly the more I think about it, a lot of my self-esteem and worth was wrapped up in making my marriage work. I believed he was my soul mate because I think I needed that to accept the way things were. I told myself I loved him, was in love with him, because that marriage represented safety to me. I protected it by giving it names and titles it didn’t deserve. I mean, can you tell someone is your soulmate 6 weeks after meeting them? Knowing nothing about their past, their relationships with others, how they will treat you?

I was unfair to myself to have said such things without proper vetting. Seriously.

And looking back, ninety percent of what he helped me with was financial in nature. It goes back to the fact that my parents never had enough money to make ends meet and we ended up losing our home because my parents couldn’t manage their money. It’s my biggest and most dreaded insecurity. And so I allowed the fact that I never felt financially insecure with my husband to compensate, rather unfairly, for that fact that I rarely felt emotionally secure with him. Take the fact that he never knew about the Douchbag Bengali (thank you Sagar, for giving him a new and far more appropriate nickname), or anyone else for that matter. And every time he found out about someone, there was a new tidal wave of jealousy and insecurity, all unfounded and irrational in nature, something I’ve never been good at dealing with because I was insecure about the relationship, too.

Of course, with Sagar, it’s different. I am secure in it because to be with him is completely by my own choice. I married my husband because I honestly didn’t know what else to do. I was losing control of my own life and I needed a life partner. With Sagar, I didn’t feel forced or rushed into it, I’ve consciously not used him as a rebound, nor do I unload my considerable guilt and f*cked up emotions about my marriage onto him, which would be unfair. That’s not to say I don’t ask him to emotionally support me: but I do as much self-processing of it first before I go to him because that is the mature thing to do. And he’s never let me down.

I also know, if I choose to, I can get out of this relationship. There is an escape hatch: I chose to be in it, and I can chose to be out of it. And at the risk of sounding like I already have one foot out the door, let me be clear: I only need to know it’s there to feel safe. I need an out. Call it a fault if you will, but after being in a marriage that felt airless for 4.5 years, an out is probably the least cruel crutch one can be granted. It’s like a fire extinguisher, or pepper spray. I don’t plan to use these things, but knowing I have them helps. I never felt that I had that option with my husband, so I felt trapped. I was terrified that I would be labeled and unmarriageable, not to mentioned a plentitude of other negative things and characterizations. Having a choice makes a woman feel powerful and in control in the face of everything else that is completely out of her control.

And so, we talk about Turkey.