hold onto hope, don’t let go one day you’ll laugh about this one day you’ll be okay hold onto hope, don’t let go Remember all of the times you’ve been strong Remember all of the times you put one foot in front of the other hold onto hope, don’t let go your story is still being written you’re 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, I’ve 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. It’s strange to think about considering she’s a white upper class sixties housewife in New York and I’m a working class millennial immigrant Latina woman in Georgia. It’s 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 brother’s wedding reception)
Betty feels trapped in her suburban idyllic existence and often times feels frustrated; I’ve 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; I’ve constantly wondered the same thing except that I have the added burden of working.
Don, Betty’s 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 “emotional” about something and/or brought up needs that weren’t 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 Don’s lack of affection for several years in the same way I overlooked my husband’s. I feel that this had to do with how women are conditioned to be polite and swallow their emotions because again–we’ll be accused of being crazy and/or hysterical.
The beginning of the end of Betty and Don’s marriage started when Betty eventually gets fed up after having one of Don’s affairs rub in her face and throws Don out but later they get back together because she finds out she’s 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 “us”.
Betty eventually gets tired of Don’s lack of effort and also his lies and eventually asks for a divorce, she tells him something like, “I don’t feel anything when I kiss you”; 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 façade of our marriage when I realized that I no longer cared that he didn’t 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 “us” and his main concerns were, “what about the taxes?” or “what about the kids?”. But like Don, he eventually agreed to it and said that he wouldn’t fight me about it. It’s 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. I’m sure that people wonder why I would stay in a stagnant and awful relationship/marriage; that’s 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.
quizás 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 conexión superficial lleno de noches apasionadas y sabanas mojadas mientras que yo deseo algo profundo y puro una conexión sólida que me inspirara mejorar y evolucionar quizás es tiempo que le pida a la luna que ya no me busques porque por mas que yo quisiera mi corazón 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 I’m growing I’m evolving in my craft
I’m used to being a doormat always allowing people’s energy to pollute my life and take up my time it’s 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 I’m done sacrificing myself for others It’s 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 I’m 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 I’m starting to think he doesn’t 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 it’s the best I can do to quell the romantic in me
when I’m happy and calm I wear my stagnation balm I can’t find anything inspiring when my sanity is not hanging by a string it makes me miss the former chaos in my life that inspired me to write, write, write when I was emotionally unstable the words just seemed to fly onto the paper now that my life is boring the muse is not roaring maybe it’s time to try to stop these unproductive sighs I will no longer live the writer block’s lie yes, I can write when I’m sane inspiration doesn’t need to wane inspiration can be found in the mundane
my body feels like a rundown shack that’s crumbling down slowly I can’t get up in the morning without my knee or hip bitching and moaning without me groaning in pain and mumbling to myself “Omg, another stupid day” 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
you’ve 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 I’ve 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