hold onto hope, donβt let go one day youβll laugh about this one day youβll be okay hold onto hope, donβt let go Remember all of the times youβve been strong Remember all of the times you put one foot in front of the other hold onto hope, donβt let go your story is still being written youβre still in time to change your narrative
So I wrote this essay a couple of years ago as I was reflecting about the end of my marriage:
As my eight year marriage comes to its inevitable end, Iβve been rewatching the series Mad Men. When I first watched the series, I admired Joan and Peggy for being strong female characters in the show but I always thought there was something about Betty Draper that I could relate to. Itβs strange to think about considering sheβs a white upper class sixties housewife in New York and Iβm a working class millennial immigrant Latina woman in Georgia. Itβs hard to grasp that there would be any similarities between but there are many indeed.
Betty and Don at Fancy Event
(Me and Hubs at my brotherβs wedding reception)
Betty feels trapped in her suburban idyllic existence and often times feels frustrated; Iβve also felt this way throughout the past fifteen years. Betty wonders if there is more to life than what she is living which is rearing children and being a good wife; Iβve constantly wondered the same thing except that I have the added burden of working.
Don, Bettyβs husband acts like she should be happy with her life and gets mad at her when she shows real emotion, kind of accuses her of being crazy and sends her to a psychiatrist that he secretly talks to about her sessions without her consent and knowledge. My husband never went so far but for most our relationship he did accuse me of over reacting and/or accuse me of being crazy if I got βemotionalβ about something and/or brought up needs that werenβt being met in our relationship. It always felt that I was expecting too much out of our relationship for wanting normal things in a relationship. My husband has also acted like I should settle for what the little he can give me in terms of companionship and be happy with that since he was. For a long time, I felt that maybe I could and should settle for this but settling made me miserable for several years.
Don also kind of stopped investing time and energy into his marriage. He took Betty for granted because they were married with two children and hid behind his work and his many dalliances. My husband was never one to make time for us or continue to woo me in any sense after we started living together. Instead, he hid behind the raising of our children and the fact that he was always tired. He could never spontaneously compliment me and I was always either too fat or almost too skinny for him. Betty overlooked Donβs lack of affection for several years in the same way I overlooked my husbandβs. I feel that this had to do with how women are conditioned to be polite and swallow their emotions because again–weβll be accused of being crazy and/or hysterical.
The beginning of the end of Betty and Donβs marriage started when Betty eventually gets fed up after having one of Donβs affairs rub in her face and throws Don out but later they get back together because she finds out sheβs pregnant with their third child. Don does try to be a somewhat better husband but eventually goes back to his philandering ways. There have been a few times throughout our relationship that I did try to break up with my husband but because he always apologized and said he would change, I always took him at his word and wanted to believe he would change. We even planned our third child and got married shortly after getting pregnant. I think I subconsciously did this because I thought a baby and a marriage would be the band aids that would fix βusβ.
Betty eventually gets tired of Donβs lack of effort and also his lies and eventually asks for a divorce, she tells him something like, βI donβt feel anything when I kiss youβ; it seems that this was when she knew that it was over for her and Don. For me, it took me a couple of years to be firm in my decision to divorce my husband. I think that I finally realized that there was no way I could continue the faΓ§ade of our marriage when I realized that I no longer cared that he didnβt notice me or felt anything remotely like romantic love when I kissed him. It took him a while to understand why I wanted a divorce since he was happy with βusβ and his main concerns were, βwhat about the taxes?β or βwhat about the kids?β. But like Don, he eventually agreed to it and said that he wouldnβt fight me about it. Itβs kind of eerie that women like myself can still relate to a sixties housewife when it comes to relationships, marriages, and the stigma of divorce. Iβm sure that people wonder why I would stay in a stagnant and awful relationship/marriage; thatβs simple; I loved my husband. I thought that loving him meant that I had to settle for a marriage devoid of any real affection. I thought that the love I felt for him would be enough to change him one day.
quizΓ‘s es tiempo que le pida a la luna que te olvides de mi que pares de insistir en resucitar nuestro cuento de amor porque siempre vamos a querer cosas diferentes tu quieres una conexiΓ³n superficial lleno de noches apasionadas y sabanas mojadas mientras que yo deseo algo profundo y puro una conexiΓ³n sΓ³lida que me inspirara mejorar y evolucionar quizΓ‘s es tiempo que le pida a la luna que ya no me busques porque por mas que yo quisiera mi corazΓ³n no se deja ablandar para ti por mas que lo intente
lately I hate everything I have written Sometimes I get the urge to burn Or delete everything but something tells me this is how I know Iβm growing Iβm evolving in my craft
Iβm used to being a doormat always allowing peopleβs energy to pollute my life and take up my time itβs the people pleaser in me who needed to fawn be easy to get along with with,always avoiding conflict, become the person they want me to be, always easy to digest and swallow cutting away pieces of my authenticity- never valuing myself or putting myself first It was learned martyrdom from the women in my family Internalized misogyny sold to me at young age dressed up as selfless acts of love but Iβm done sacrificing myself for others Itβs time to unlearn this toxic way of loving and being I refuse to passed this down to the next generation of woman who come after me Iβm here to take up space, roar like a lioness and passed down a new legacy of self love that took me 41 years to learn
I keep trying to manifest the one worthy of me but Iβm starting to think he doesnβt exist I swipe and swipe on the dating apps but no one is of interest to me and so I find solace in an unrequited love that will never be more than friendship itβs the best I can do to quell the romantic in me
my body feels like a rundown shack that’s crumbling down slowly I canβt get up in the morning without my knee or hip bitching and moaning without me groaning in pain and mumbling to myself βOmg, another stupid dayβ and cursing my genetics that make me watch everything I eat and again I wonder am I paying a karmic debt for my colonizer ancestors
youβve change from spring to autumn within moments never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism Iβve made it as simple as possible for you and nothing happens and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background
my dreamy pisces energy has gotten me in more trouble than it was worth always viewing things in extremes always making devils and angels out of people who are really just mortals my dreamy pisces energy is either my biggest curse or my biggest blessing depending on the season, the weather or the day
I search for peace and tranquility but it evades me sometimes I find it but it quickly dissipates Feeling so much all of the time gets exasperating I yearn for a vacation from this intensity Iβm starting to think this is my destiny To fall in love hard and feel heartbreak even harder To write a few poems when Iβm in love To write a hundred poems when I face another love failure maybe itβs best to truly accept me a girl sometimes full of serenity a girl always full of intensity
this modern world got my victorian and pure heart all fucked up donβt know which way is up donβt know which way is down donβt know what is right donβt know what is wrong I want someoneβs hand to hold but they reach for my breast I want innocent kisses on the cheek but they reach for the heaven between my thighs
can’t imagine why anyone wants to fix this picture of perfection
everyone I meet wants to fix me my hair is wild and indomitable my grammar is atrocious my laugh is too loud and we canβt forget about my crooked teeth and while most of them mean well I wonder whatβs so wrong with me that people always fixate on my flaws