All right, people, through this whole divorce, I have (honestly) been the kindest, sweetest I could possibly be. After all, I did the leaving. There are a lot of good reasons for my leaving. Really, really good reasons. Just ask my mom. And my sister. And everyone in my family. And my friends. And the mailman. And my lover. Okay, don’t ask my lover, he doesn’t exist, but you can ask the mailman. Leaving was good. And terrible. But right. You know what I mean.
And through this, I’ve said everything as gently as I could, I’ve used “I” statements, I went for joint custody because it’s better for the kids, I tried not to take any money or ask for too much support (I get $100 a month), and you know what? I don’t want to be Mrs. Nice Girl anymore. I was Mrs. Nice Girl when I was married: quiet, submissive, and just plain gray. Now, I just want to be Tanya: complex, colorful, quirky Tanya. So. Mrs. Nice Girl? Forget it. Forget it! Here’s where I find my voice. Here, P, is where I tell you the whole truth. Right now, I’m pointing to my ass, and telling you to kiss it.
Here’s my letter to you:
The other day you told me you were getting remarried and I thought, duh. Two weeks after I moved out, you were on Match.com. Two weeks later I ran into you on your first date, literally, with our kids, though we had an agreement that you wouldn’t introduce our kids to anyone we were dating. You said you weren’t dating. Two weeks later, your relationship was “Very Serious”. On Halloween, you brought your girlfriend and her kids and our kids into my house and I took a family picture of you because the kids wanted one. And now six months later, you’re getting married. Well. Yes. Good for you. That wasn’t enough though, you had to keep going.
Then you told me that you had a deep connection with your first wife, and with your new fiancée you have found a love you didn’t think was possible, and then you said you married me because you wanted kids.
So. I was right. When I told you I felt like you didn’t honor me or cherish me, when I felt like you just wanted a wife and a cook and someone to be a mom to your kids, I was right. And it’s nice to hear you finally admit it. You never took the time to know me. You never read my writing, you never wanted me to act. You wanted me to stay home and cook…and I did, because I thought that we’d have a good family.
But you were controlling and a general asshole, and now, I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that you weren’t able to spend even two weeks alone before looking for someone to take over my role.
Last night, I had to meet your fiancée. She seems perfectly nice. Already she’s organizing your schedule, taking care of you, and now I feel sorry for her too. I hope your connection is real. I hope you haven’t misled her the way you misled me.
I’m tired of being nice. I’m tired of being a victim.
I met with a trainer at the gym today and he said: “Tanya, you’re doing a great job. You just need more confidence.” I wanted to hug him. He was talking about working out, but for me it meant a lot more. I need more confidence. It starts here. I release you, P. You never knew me. That’s your loss. Our kids will be great. I love them deeply….but you…you are a stranger to me and no longer have the power to hurt me. You took a lot from me in our marriage, and now, I’m taking it back.
Readers, I hope you’ll forgive my digression here, but sometimes, you’ve just got to tell the truth. The truth is, I am free from a really bad marriage and someday, sometime, I’m going to have the happiness I want. I wish this for you too.