Iβm a real monster when I canβt see past my anger I want to burn you down I want you to drown And at times I can control my impulsivity and revenge But sometimes my anger canβt be caged And I try to keep it in between the pages of my journal and notebooks but the resentment becomes too loud to let you off the hook So a passive aggressive status post happens with an intent to insult and offend I want you to feel my anger all the way revealed Maybe one day Iβll get much better not allowing my anger to turn me into a monster
Men love a pretty mess like me especially the nice ones who want to fix me and save me Iβm their pretty princess whoβs so lovely and sweet And for some, my pussy makes them think or say they love me but when I turn from a pretty mess to a crazy and chaotic hurricane they can’t stand to be around me and run away βI never signed up for this, you’re toxicβ and I cry and then laugh at the absurdity you don’t get to choose just to love the fun part of me because that’s not love that’s their primal need and lust for me disguised as loved because real love accepts everything about me
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.
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
I wake up on a Sunday Mad and angry Youβre not here In my arms Because I was too much I was too Insane Too old So I lay alone In tears that wonβt fall Numb Wondering- When will I ever Find someone To take away The numbness Of the experience Of a life not loved Of a face not kissed Of an intimacy faked!
I hope this story is buried for a final time and you donβt pop up again and I have to play whack an asshole once again blocking you on yet another platform would the universe be kind enough this time for it to be good riddance forever cause Iβm tired of my past mistakes to constantly come out of nowhere to disturb my present
Iβm lead to a higher version of myself after integration itβs uncomfortable and I blush red in this latest transformation annoyed and hate everything I write as most of it takes a romantic undertone I started to miss the woman-scorned and empowered who decimated her exes the one who came up with the clever phrase electronic pink slip but that woman is slipping away from me transforming into a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve with her poetry transforming into a woman whoβs grown bored of hating her exes and instead wants to be on friendly terms with them transforming into a woman who understands and accepts she not defined by her trauma or a diagnosis and instead should lean into the magic of love that lurks inside of her
always second choice, a lifetime full of heather moments the universe makes a mockery out of me putting me in contests I never win never being smart enough, pretty enough, American enough will I ever be chosen?