Here's something you might be interested in.
I probably shouldn't be posting this, but I hate my husband's guts. I always have; this is nothing new. I married him in 1999, after being alone for a long time. He was actually my boss at first. He said he noticed me because of my great customer service skills. Years after I quit my job, customers were still asking "Whatever happened to that woman that used to come in?"
Doug was fifty and had never been married. That should have been my first clue. He was well-liked around the office, had been with the company for more than ten years, and was good with my daughter and pets. I cannot say I was head-over-heels, but I had tried that once before and had gotten nowhere. I thought with Doug I'd be better than I was alone. Yeah, right.
At the time, I was a member of the Mormon Church and men and women were not supposed to live together. I told Doug that he couldn't move in until the wedding, because my visiting teacher and other members were constantly visiting my home. Imagine my surprise when two weeks before the ceremony, he showed up with a moving truck. He moved right in and got comfortable as if he owned the place. When he hung his towel on a hook in the bathroom, I told him, "That's where I hang my towel."
"Not anymore," he said. I should have thrown his ass out right then and there.
But my daughter was attached to him and had started calling him "Dad." I guess I carried a lot of guilt because she had never known her real dad. He was a heroin addict that abandoned us when she was two. If it hadn't been for my dad, my daughter and I would probably have ended up on the street or living in my car.
I rationalized Doug's presence by telling myself that he could be worse. He drove my daughter to school every morning so I didn't have to get up. I guess he felt as if he had to do something that made keeping him worthwhile, because for the first four years, he had excuses to not pay any of his own expenses.
I had known there was trouble even before I married him, I just chose not to see it. I was seriously co nsidering canceling the wedding when the cards and gifts started pouring in from relatives and co-workers. I remember sitting in the foyer at the church and wondering what on earth to do. I couldn't go forward and I couldn't go back. If I canceled the wedding, Doug would be humiliated. Many of our co-workers were so happy for him because in all the years he'd worked for the company, they'd never seen him with a woman. He always showed up to company events alone. I just wish I wasn't the one to get stuck with him.
To be continued...
I probably shouldn't be posting this, but I hate my husband's guts. I always have; this is nothing new. I married him in 1999, after being alone for a long time. He was actually my boss at first. He said he noticed me because of my great customer service skills. Years after I quit my job, customers were still asking "Whatever happened to that woman that used to come in?"
Doug was fifty and had never been married. That should have been my first clue. He was well-liked around the office, had been with the company for more than ten years, and was good with my daughter and pets. I cannot say I was head-over-heels, but I had tried that once before and had gotten nowhere. I thought with Doug I'd be better than I was alone. Yeah, right.
At the time, I was a member of the Mormon Church and men and women were not supposed to live together. I told Doug that he couldn't move in until the wedding, because my visiting teacher and other members were constantly visiting my home. Imagine my surprise when two weeks before the ceremony, he showed up with a moving truck. He moved right in and got comfortable as if he owned the place. When he hung his towel on a hook in the bathroom, I told him, "That's where I hang my towel."
"Not anymore," he said. I should have thrown his ass out right then and there.
But my daughter was attached to him and had started calling him "Dad." I guess I carried a lot of guilt because she had never known her real dad. He was a heroin addict that abandoned us when she was two. If it hadn't been for my dad, my daughter and I would probably have ended up on the street or living in my car.
I rationalized Doug's presence by telling myself that he could be worse. He drove my daughter to school every morning so I didn't have to get up. I guess he felt as if he had to do something that made keeping him worthwhile, because for the first four years, he had excuses to not pay any of his own expenses.
I had known there was trouble even before I married him, I just chose not to see it. I was seriously co nsidering canceling the wedding when the cards and gifts started pouring in from relatives and co-workers. I remember sitting in the foyer at the church and wondering what on earth to do. I couldn't go forward and I couldn't go back. If I canceled the wedding, Doug would be humiliated. Many of our co-workers were so happy for him because in all the years he'd worked for the company, they'd never seen him with a woman. He always showed up to company events alone. I just wish I wasn't the one to get stuck with him.
To be continued...