Betty Draper and 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, 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.  

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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 β€œemotional” 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. 

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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. 

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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 β€œus”. 

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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, β€œI 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 faΓ§ade 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 β€œus” and his main concerns were, β€œwhat about the taxes?” or β€œwhat 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. 

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Poetry: My Adonis

He lies in the scent
Of our lovemaking
On love stained sheets
From β€œus”

He lies with an
Angelic look on his face
With a recently delivered
Afterglow of new love

He lies in the freshly made world of intimacy
We have just created

He lies with eyes shut
And heavenly blood red lips
That call me baby

And I get ready to leave
With dreadful
Back to the reality
That doesn’t include
My Adonis

Poetry: By Starlight

Me in 2018 on the way to see C

By starlight 

I saw the brightness of the moon

As he sat next to me 

Talking to me about nothing 

And yet everything 

All at once

By starlight 

I saw the shadow 

Of his large hands

And felt the roughness 

Of them as he 

Clumsily held my hands 

In his

By starlight

I saw the silhouette

Of his muscular legs

As he nervously 

Inched himself towards me 

And I felt his warmth

By starlight 

I saw the smallest 

Shimmering of the stars 

And felt his tender kiss

On my neck as he pulled my hair

And I felt the newness of love 

Poetry: The Monster of Insecurity

It dwells in the back of my mind-

Could this be too good to be true?

Will he need distance soon?

Insecurity takes over after finding

 something so sure.

Insecurity tells me I’m not good enough.

Insecurity tells me that I don’t deserve him.

Insecurity tells me one day this will end

  and it will be absolutely devastating.

Poetry: Winning the War

I can’t live without you another day
But I have to stay away
You are now part of my past
To you, I was another piece of ass
Even though I wish your love was mine
Without you, I will be just fine
Because no matter how weak I get
The memory of you, I must learn to forget
So with these few words I may win the war
On loving you no more

Poetry : Changing

Somewhere in Athens

I saw him in a new light-

In the light of the most intoxicating feelings of love

I didn’t want to at all-

But he made it all so easy-

Loving him is like breathing

I went from a bitter and depressed woman

filled with constant existential dread

to this new woman  filled 

with laughter and hope–

Maybe just maybe his love

cured the pessimist in me

Maybe just maybe his love

Changed me

Poetry: Border

me in the summer of 2019 when I wrote this poem

There is a border around you

Cemented with callousness

Every now and then 

I see glimpses of good-

Within you

But only on the nights

When you are drunk and lonely

Only the nights

When you want my skin 

To cover yours

You give me orgasms 

And sweet compliments

And fill me up with lies-

And the day after

Your border is closed

Its impenetrable

So hard to break through

So hard to keep loving you

So I give up

Every time I TRY

To chisel a little at it 

My heart hurts

and breaks a  little more

So I”ll stop trying to break through

No matter how happy you make me

For a few hours

You’re not worth

Days, weeks, and months 

Of misery 

Poetry: Once Again

Again and again and again

-I let you back in 

You take me in passionately

    and intensely

And without thinking

I’m back in your arms

  And for the briefest of moments

I believe you love me 

 Loneliness makes one blind

To the sad reality 

You just like the convenience of my hips

Lust makes one blind 

To the hard truth

You just like to use 

The warmth of my body

To covers yours 

At your leisure 

poetry: four letter word

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

imagine fumbling all of this

you could have been my forever muse, my forever thot
But like the others before you
you don’t know what to do with a woman like me
maybe my ingenuity is to blame for this
wanting to live in a delusional daydream of love
instead of grounding myself in reality
and radically accepting love is just a four letter word
in my vocabulary that wrecks and ruins my sanity

Poetry: I’m in Love

I’ve got a secret πŸ™Š

I’m in love and I hold my breath

wondering when this wondrous feeling 

will end.

When will you stop looking at me

like I’m magic?

When will I stop fantasizing about you?

When will we both tire of each other?

When  will we end up in a predictable rut?

So I hold on to this  moment when I’m in love 

and hold my breath hoping that it’s a long time

before the end. 

Poetry: Intoxicated

I am intoxicated 

  by his desire for me

He seems to accept who I am–

  Wrinkles and craziness and all

  and he doesn’t try to change me

He makes me feel valued 

  and appreciated and 

  that I matter in his life

Being with him fills me 

 with happiness, peace 

 and a joy I’ve never known

and for the first time

my heart isn’t filled 

With anxiousness 

of whether I’m good enough. 

Poetry: Unsurvivable

Unsurvivable

I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable

Poetry: Blocked

Blocked

Blocked from my phone
Blocked from my world
Blocked from being
The constant chaos
That torpedoes into my life
And fucks things up

If only I could
Block you from my mind
If only I could
Block you from my heart
If only I could
Block you from my dreams

Blocked from mentioning your name
My friends know better

If only I could
Block you from
My poetry and prose

Poetry: Virus

Virus

Loving you feels like a virus
I’ll never recover from
I lie awake at night
and thoughts of you infect me
I keep saying I want to be cured
of your love disease
that travels from my body
and into my mind
I’ve tried to find the cure
in someone else
But for some reason
your virus is resistant
It won’t go away
no matter what I do
I try hard to stay away
but it’s no use
The virus that is your love
is incurable
Virus

poetry: copy and paste

I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

truth

Copy and paste, copy and paste, copy and paste
Partners, unhealthy love patterns, delusions of love
it happens over and over again
And I try my best to change this narrative
and sometimes it seems to work
but most of the time it was me denying what’s in front of me
A man who treats me like his inferior
Allowing him to step on my boundaries
trying to keep myself small enough so he doesn’t leave
and I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened to me
And I’m fucking tired of it
So I put a pause on love for a while
Until I can figure out how to produce healthy love energy
And ensure I don’t settle again for anyone
who treats me less than the majestic and magical queen that I am