Until it happens to you

I went on a posting hiatus a while back, appeared for one post, and disappeared again. If you've followed my blog, you know that one post was me exclaiming joy at my pending nuptials. I was out-of-my-mind happy at that point. Because I was in denial.

My nuptials have been called off, I've moved out, and in a matter of weeks, that chapter of my life will be closed.

Back then, I didn't see this coming. Not even a little bit. I was so sure that he was Mr. Lyndsy. I would have bet everything on it. In some ways I did. I took a job where I didn't make enough to really sustain me on my own. I got rid of a lot of my furniture. Bedding. Why not? I wouldn't need it again.

My mom tried to warn me that I should leave myself a back-up plan. I wouldn't hear it. I knew what I was doing. Don't tell her this, but my mom was right. I know she was trying to be practical about it, she wasn't trying to doom my relationship. But I wouldn't hear it.

Not too long into it, I started to have feelings that something was off. I brushed it off as us adjusting to me living with him. As time went on, things didn't improve. I chalked it up to the holiday season. Everyone's a little stressed then, right? The holidays came and went and still nothing changed. In fact, things got a bit worse. But, the beginning of the year is hard for him for personal reasons. I figured, "I'll just wait some more."

Until finally, I couldn't wait anymore. It was just too much. And it was something small that brought it all crashing down. I didn't get a Valentine's Day card.

I realize that Valentine's Day is a commercialized holiday designed to generate retail revenue. It wasn't really the card that did it. It was the reason no card was given, "I felt like crap all day."

Valentine's Day falls on the same day every year. From the time we got together until it ended that day, there were many, many days to buy a card. But the fact that he couldn't put himself out, for just a card, really struck me. And then I got to thinking about all the little things I'd let slide.

The weekend getaway we'd just taken where I paid for everything except two meals (to the tune of $400). The Christmas present that was originally a gift for himself, delivered with, "Since I didn't really get you anything for Christmas..."

And I also thought about the times I wanted to go see my friends. When I brought it up, I got, "Oh, I guess I'll just go see a movie by myself then." I'd ask which movie and it was always something I wanted to see. Even if I didn't stay home, he wouldn't go see it.

All the times I'd been talked to like a child - "Is there a reason you left the light on in the other room?"

The "Please don't talk to your friends about our relationship," which turned into, "You talk to them and never me." Untrue, but designed to sting.

Perhaps the worst, but somehow easiest forgotten on my end, the unprovoked kicks to the chest that left a bruise.

I saw these things, knew something was off, but stayed anyway. I used to wonder why people would stay in a situation like that. It's so obvious from the outside that something is desperately wrong. Now I know why.

You're made to believe it's you. I believed I wasn't doing enough. If *I* were somehow better, he wouldn't behave that way. We could be happy.

What I didn't know was that nothing I could say or do would matter. It wasn't me. I allowed it to happen by not standing up for myself, but I wasn't the source.

The important thing now is that I'm out. I've learned from it. I've grown. I feel relief.

I feel free.

And soon I will feel happy again.

Next stall, if you please

We all have pet peeves. Mine seem to revolve around the public restrooms.

If you've been a faithful reader of my blog, you know one of my big pet peeves is hand-washing in a public restroom. I get totally creeped out when someone leaves a public restroom stall and bypasses the sink on their way out.

There are lots of explanations why someone may do that. May have just been adjusting clothes, may have tried to go and couldn't, blah blah blah. Don't care. Whether you pissed on your hands or not, if someone is in the bathroom with you, WASH THEM.

It's obviously their call if they want everyone to look at them like they have no sense of personal hygiene. I can't even say I blame them. I have almost no confidence that the sinks in public restrooms are even clean. In that case, just bring some hand sanitizer and use it while others are watching.

The other huge pet peeve I have is when I'm in the restroom, by myself, lots of stalls open, and someone comes in and gets into the stall right next to me.

In any public restroom I use frequently, I have a favorite stall. It's typically the first one in line, closest to the wall or door. I think I read somewhere (on the internet) that that is the least frequently used stall. True or not, what that translates to in my head is that it's bound to be the cleanest.

So I get it if others have a favorite. I know they have to go, obviously I do too. That's why we're in there. But please, don't be all up in my personal space. I'm having a moment of personal reflection, and you're disturbing my chi. Just slide on down to the next stall and we'll both feel better.