Randy is grilling and I’m trying to not mourn the fact that it is Sunday.
I am making corn on the cob to go with our burgers and steaks. I heard a voice echo in my head from over thirty years ago.
“Is the food done? Well, tough shit because the corn isn’t ready”.
Those words were spoken by my ex boyfriend’s new girlfriend. My boyfriend of five years and I had broken up four months prior. We were neighbors, so it isn’t like we could pretend the other didn’t exist. I guess enough time had passed that Bruce, my ex boyfriend, felt comfortable enough to ask me if I wanted to come to a party at his house over the weekend. I’d get to see our friends. My old friends. He got all the friends when we broke up.
I was 20 years old at the time and his party was just a few days after I had my one and only one night stand. I was confused and tired and I missed my friends like crazy. The guy I had the one night stand with was a ballet dancer. He was gorgeous and friendly and kind of acted like he was doing me a favor. After giving him a fake phone number, I ended the evening feeling sick and disappointed in myself. I went home still wearing his Member’s Only jacket.
It was the EIGHTIES…Member’s Only jackets were cool then. Kind of.
I wore this jacket as I walked the short distance from my house to my old boyfriend’s house as a shield. This jacket held a secret that I could hide behind. It made no difference that the secret was more of a shameful secret than a delicious secret, it was still a shield.
I walked down a hill by his house into his backyard filled with my friends. I was pleased to see smiles. They missed me. My old boyfriend’s best friend, someone who I loved came up behind me and lifted me into the air and ran through the yard carrying me while kissing the top of my head. It made my heart ache.
It was about that time when the strange girl who I had never seen before stepped out of his kitchen onto the deck that overlooked the backyard to inform Bruce that the corn wasn’t done.
He looked up and said “Okay, Sid”.
Sid.
I dated this person through all my high school years. It was not a good relationship. It was one of those relationships where people shake their heads and say ‘Why does she stay with him”? Mostly, he was mean, dismissive, critical and on occasion, physically abusive. His anger could ignite over anything. I remember outbursts that revolved around the shoes I wore, a time when a stranger cat-called me and once for dropping a piece of pepperoni in his car. I remember a huge fight in the mall when I said I wanted to buy Bruce Springsteen’s new album The River and he lost his shit because he wanted to know who told me it was a good album.
It was not a good relationship.
But it was what I knew. The way he treated me wasn’t much different from the way my father treated me. It wasn’t all bad, there were times that he was sweet. Yes, I realize how much that sounds like something an abused person would say. He had a nickname for me when he wasn’t angry with me. He called me Sydney. Sydney of Australia. I have no idea why, he never explained it to me. Or maybe he did and I’ve since forgotten…it was over 30 years ago.
When I ended the relationship, I was beyond relieved. I had been unhappy for years. I cried a few days and moved on. I knew he was seeing someone, but that didn’t bother me. I didn’t want him back. I was motherfucking free.
Then I heard him call this strange girl by my nickname.
The grief I felt was overwhelming. Why does she get called Sid? I earned that name. She is nobody, she doesn’t know you. She doesn’t get my nickname.
I left soon after, sad and lonely and wearing my worthless shield. It was after that party that I actually grieved the end of my 5 year relationship. I remember being so angry with myself. Why? WHY would I feel so sad about leaving a situation that was completely toxic? Who does that?
Now that I’m decades beyond those days, I realized that I know the answer to that question. I know exactly who does that.
I do.
Five years is a long time, regardless of whether it was a good experience or a bad one, it was still mine. Grieving the end of a relationship is normal.
Funny, how so many years can pass without giving a memory a passing thought, and then something as simple as making corn on the cob can bring back a flood of memories.
It felt good to give myself permission to grieve. Not to me, really…that part of my past that is barely recognizable. I gave 20 year old me permission to be sad and she gave me permission to write this blog post.
It’s nice when people work together.
My parents untangled from a fractious and abusive marriage when I was 21 or so. I felt good about that, had been telling my mother for years she should get out of it. When they officially divorced a few years later I was blindsided by the pangs of grief I felt — and I was an adult for Christ’s sake! I realized that the grief was not for the marriage or my parents, but for the years of longing for something that would never be: a loving, happy family.
Life is weird, isn’t it.
It really truly is bizarre. I get what you are saying, though. I feel that way about the relationship with my dad. What makes me feel grief is that fact that I don’t even want to try to have a relationship with him.
It’s crazy the things that can take us back. My therapist told me that the reason I get so upset and have panic attacks when I remember certain events is that I never dealt with them as a teenager so now when I remember them I react like my teenage self would, feeling all the feelings, etc. I am shaking right now just typing this. Weird. And it is nice when people work together, lol.
I only felt sad thinking about it..not so much for any reason but I felt sorry for the younger me. I have rarely given her a break for anything.
This is a lovely reminder to look back at ourselves and feel compassion for all the things we’ve agonized over as mistakes.
Lovely story!
Thank you! And you very succinctly expressed what I was trying to say! I really need to take the time to feel compassion for so many younger versions of myself
It’s funny how the strangest things can trigger memories from eons ago. In this case it makes sense. It is important that we give our own self permission to grieve or make mistakes. We’re often easier on others than on ourselves. You must have stayed with him for so long because he had some good qualities in spite of his abusive behavior. No one is all evil and that’s what makes it hard to finally end it.
You are so right. I was finally in a place where I could end it and proceeded to get into really bad relationships and marriages for the next 12 years. Randy and I have been together 19 and it’s had it’s rocky places but we’ve really got it figured out. For us. It works for us.
Giving that long-ago girl a break is probably a good idea. Wasn’t she doing the best she could with what she had at the time? And she grew up to be you, and that makes me like her already.
I do find that time gets weirder to deal with as I accumulate more of it. This was a text exchange between Briana (whom I met in 1979) and I on July 13 of this year:
Me: Today was 31 years since PG (Peter Gabriel) at the Greek.
B: Oh God! I don’t know how I feel about that.
Me: It was a good show.
B: I do agree with that.
It was during the above mentioned show that it dawned on both of us that we really needed to get out if Eureka and move to the Bay Area, which we did the following March. Been here ever since.
;
Great story! I’m sorry that I’ve never seen Peter Gabriel..
Grieving the end of a bad relationship is about so many more things than saying goodbye to someone who is bad for us. Reliably bad or reliably good, they do become part of us. Your younger self definitely deserves a break. And a big hug. And a high five for taking that first big step to an older, wiser and happier you! 🙂
Thank you! It takes me a while…but I usually catch up.
When a relationship ends – even the not so great ones – you’ve got to re-invent yourself and envision a whole new future for yourself. It’s terrifying. And that’s probably why we stay with those people far longer than we should. It’s the enemy you know, right? Should I leave that guy who INSISTS on wearing a Speedo to the family barbecue every year? Of course. But maybe he’ll stop doing that next year. Because my parents don’t have a pool…
Hahahah…oh man…at least he didn’t wear a speedo.
good lord I love how you write.
you need to write me a book.
Thank you, Carla!!!
You know..maybe if I pretended I was just writing it for one person I wouldn’t keep putting it off.
Sigh. This hits home on so many levels. I will feel fine and then something stupid will hit me like a ton of bricks. For example, last weekend I took the grandkid to Chuck E Cheese – I didn’t think anything of it, until I walked in and suddenly was hit with all sorts of memories of when we took our kids to Chuck E Cheese when they were small. It bugs the shit out of me!
It’s weird. Usually, when I feel those memories arise, I just it down and move on, but I went ahead and thought it through this time..
Grief is a fickle bitch. I hate her. And I love her. And I need her to help move on. I’m glad you gave 20-year-old Michelle a break and permission to grieve. I find sometimes I’m grieving what I thought I had rather than what I really had. And that needs release too.
I’m going to think of you every time I make corn now. xoxo
I suck at grieving. I am more a bottle it all up and refuse to feel anything kind of person. That hasn’t worked out to well for me so far…
I think what we don’t realize when we’re young and full of bravado is that although it’s best to get over past relationships and move on, we never really learn from them until we allow ourselves to let go and grieve them.
I think that is very true. Although, even when I was young, my bravado was…lacking.
Oh man, I thought I was mad about the time I made up the female version of Trogdor and my ex and his new girlfriend stole the idea and posted it on UrbanDictionary.com while defining defenestration:
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=defenestration&defid=140803
Or course now everyone and their mother’s username is trogdorita and since it’s not 2003 anymore I’m all, whatevs.
I think that’s their “Syd” or “Members Only Jacket.”
those ASSHOLES!
I will sneer at them in your honor whenever I think about Trogdorita..which probably won’t be very often…but still! BIG sneers.
What makes it worse is the date on that.
Here was the timeline of our breakup. IT’S A SAGA AND IT’S BAD.
Breakup 1
October 2001 We break up. My decision. I start seeing someone else for a while but it doesn’t work out.
November 2001 We get back together, but his family hates me now. Yay?
Breakup 2
April 2002 We break up because of a fight about me liking girls as much as guys and how sinful and embarrassing that apparently is. His decision. But it should have been my decision.
May 2002 We get back together. Not sure why? Very dumb on my part. We start fighting again around November.
Breakup 3 Part 1
January 2003 We break up because he’s a total fucking jerk who sexually assaulted me. My decision.
February 2003 Are we back together? I can’t fucking tell. What the hell is wrong with me? And I have conveniently forgotten what he did. I blame this on being snowed in and going off meds and cutting off all my hair like Britney Spears.
March 2003 I think we might be back together, who knows? He’s so sketchy.
April 2003 We are back together and I’m mad at him for something completely stupid instead of the valid thing from January. Yeah, I’m sure that’s why I’m mad at him.
May 1, 2003 I am super fucking mad at him but I realize it’s irrational and I try to get over it.
Breakup 3 Part 2
May 16, 2003 We get into a huge terrible fight and realize we never officially got back together even though we were involved somehow after we broke up in January. He goes right out and starts seeing someone else behind my back THAT NIGHT. Which I don’t find out until June 3rd. We discussed breaking up but it wasn’t a whole, “yeah, for sure this is over.” kind of thing. It was more of me trying to drag out what was his issue besides, “I just want to be alone right now.” Yeah, right. I have this gift, I can smell a lie. I mean we had gotten back together so many times how the eff was I supposed to know.
May 16-May 24 Silent treatment. Is it over? I don’t know, because he’s an asshole who won’t talk things over like an adult. This is because he is sneaking around and he knows it.
May 24 He calls me like NOTHING IS WRONG all flirty and shit and then at the end of the conversation says, “You do know we’re broken up, right.”
NO NOT WHEN YOU ARE CALLING ME LIKE NOTHING IS WRONG YOU INSENSITIVE BUTT. I send him an email like WTF YOU COWARDLY SHITHEAD except it was very nice.
May 28 He writes that entry with his girlfriend I guess and then sends me an email explaining that yes it was over so there would be no confusion.
June 3rd I find out from the new girl that they’d been seeing each other for a couple weeks. I have to find it out from her. Gee, thanks. And then it seems like his breakup with her was as drawn out as mine. Ugh. Ugh!
tl;dr while we were still hemming and hawing whether our relationship was donezo he was not only sneaking off with some other girl but they were using MY idea. (It was a dumb idea, BUT STILL) Like how much fun could they be having if they had to steal from me in the first two weeks of their naughty, naughty early stages?
Sheesh….That is just fucking crazy! what a fuckstick.
I completely get this–I left a horrible, abusive marriage after 5 very long years…and yet when it was over, I felt sad. Sad that I’d undervalued myself so much, sad that I’d let him steal 5 years of my 20s, sad I’d hurt him, even though he’d hurt me so often and so thoughtlessly. It’s important to let ourselves feel it and move on.
This is so true. I really needed to hear this many years ago, but it’s better than nothing to acknowledge it now and give ‘younger’ me the break she needed all those years ago.
It is great when people work together. That is how I feel when I read you blog, and the Bloggess and others. I think we all work together. Apart, but together.
I am glad you wrote this post. It allows me to remember the 19 years old me and that it is ok to still be working some of that shit out.
Thank you! And yes! You can still work that shit out….
I love this community as well…it’s meant the world to me.
Michelle: You ex was an asshat.
I have a friend. A beautiful, wonderful, smart friend (with money…she’s a surgeon). She was with this asswipe that no one else could stand. Dude was SOOOOO full of himself. She was a few years older than him, and he acted like because she was getting OLDER, he was doing her a fucking favor by being with her. They were engaged…they’d gotten engaged on 5/5/05 or 6/6/06 or something like that…and he’d say they were getting married on 7/7/07…then it was 8/8/08…then 9/9/09. Oh! But then! this mid-forties jackass decided that he just didn’t know if he could give up the dream of every having children (A dream I think he first had somewhere in the middle of his 43rd year). BUT! He still strung my wonderful, deserved-so-much-better-than-him friend along another year….all the while telling everyone in earshot what supreme sacrifices he was making by being with someone so OLD (she was 49). Then one day, he just woke up and told her that he felt too young to be with her and got on a plane and went to Oktoberfest in Germany for 3 weeks…leaving instructions for where his stuff could be moved to.
A month later he was engaged….and he got married on 11/11/11. Fucking jerk.
(BTW, she is married to a wonderful man now that fully appreciates what a fantastic woman she is)
My ex was a major asshat…and he wasn’t the worst ex I have..sadly.
Wow..I am so glad your friend is happy now. What a complete fucking tool!
The jackass and his 35 year old uterus…I mean wife, had a kid (of course). He’ll be 62 when he’s teaching them to drive. karma, she be a bitch.
I love when an everyday item, like corn on the cob, can trigger such a moment! Thanks for the share!
(ps-found you thru Women of Midlife. following you on Bloglovin now!)
(pss-LOVE the blog name!)
Thank you so much! I’m so glad you found me!
And yes, it’s kind of cool the way memory works, right?