weddings suck

predictably, i have come to really recoil from the idea of weddings and marriage...

i recently found it necessary to attend one, since my boyfriend's brother married.  i found the experience to be like suffocating under a pile of heavy wool blankets.  bearing witness to this 'commitment' that these two people were making together, observing all the effort they made to create their special day, watching them celebrate with their loved ones, made it very difficult not to think back to my own wedding day...

when i think about all the many hours, and the many, many dollars, that were spent planning and creating that day, it makes me nauseous.  none of it meant anything, in the end.  all the tiny details i labored over, the fancy private club, the flowers and pumpkins everywhere, the Italian silk gown, the platinum rings, the vows written and spoken for all to hear, it was all folly.  we were two people, clinging to one another out of fear -- nothing more -- and we engaged willingly in this charade of commitment.  it was like, the bigger and more elaborate the affair, the more we believed it was true and right.  it wasn't...it really never, ever was, and yet, onward we marched.

despite my realizing that i was not meant to be with my ex husband, its difficult not to allow myself to become incredibly jaded about marriage...and even love.  my experiences thus far have demonstrated to me how fickle it all is, how love can be turned on and off like a light switch, even in two people who really do care deeply for one another.  any day, any moment, one of the two can decide it no longer suits them...that its easier to run away, than to stand by one's heart.  it doesn't seem fair.  i think its the universe's cruelest joke...

maybe its why i ended up being drawn into the BDSM lifestyle...i wanted to be truly considered by my partner, deeply understood and appreciated for who i am.  a Dominant or Master chooses his submissive or servant, and not for just any old reason.  she is selected for her obedience, her ability to serve, her willingness to please, her impressionable nature, among other things.  she is cherished...and yes, she is used.  there is a contract, and a collar, and the bond is not dissolved unless it is agreed upon by both parties.  the more i explored the various dynamics within the culture, the more it appealed to me.  

discovering my submissive qualities was no surprise to me, but it was thrilling to me, because i felt as though i had finally found myself...like looking in the mirror for the first time and really seeing who you are.  i understood myself within the context of BDSM almost immediately: i was a type A perfectionist, overachiever who's parents directed her every move in her early life.  the only physical affection or contact i ever got from them was an exasperated grab of my arm, a spanking, or a slap across my face.  my experience of love was that it was violent and extremely conditional.  it came as no surprise to me that i responded so strongly to these kinds of expressions of love...it all made perfect sense to me.

my ex husband is a submissive, but not for the same reasons i am.  he is merely weak and lacking any will.  his submission is automatic and natural.  mine is complex, and almost paradoxical -- i've spent my life waving the flag of feminism and striving to be an independent woman in a patriarchally oppressive world, and here i am, getting moist because a big strong man could come along and tell me to drop to my knees in such a way that i can not help but obey.  and its not just any man who can trigger such a response in me.  he must be worthy -- of me, and of my submission.  my ex husband was never worthy, of either, and to be fair, he never asked or demanded my submission outright.  instead, he found subtle ways to exert control over me, manipulating parts of my life or my psyche so that i had no choice but to rely upon him.

i hated him for that...for all the little ways he tried to keep me underneath him somehow.  it is what i look back on and have the most acrimony about with him.  for instance, the household maintenance was my job, naturally.  getting him to participate in the upkeep of the house was like battling a child to clean his room, only this was a grown ass man with a mortgage.  i was not allowed to use the bank card, and therefore had to rely upon him for almost every necessity.  he would go to the store with a written shopping list, and he would purposely return with only half of my requested items, or the wrong ones entirely.  repeatedly.  sex, of course, was expected.  i could be fondled and accosted at any moment, in the midst of any task, so that he could take five minutes to get off and go back to what he was doing.  i would have to beg for money for the smallest things, and yet he would go out with other girl friends for expensive dinners at Left Bank.  and then, there was the way in which he would emotionally beat me down, any goal i set, any task i set out to do, was derided for some reason.  it was clear that i was not good enough for the good old, Doctor Kxxxxxx.

so why did he marry me?  i never pressured, in fact i invited him to move along if he wasn't sure about me or any of it.  i made it clear that i did not plan to have children, and so he should part ways if that was important to him.  he and i came to so many crossroads over the years, and each time, we chose to move forward together.  

better yet, why did i stay?  what was i so afraid of?  because surely, being alone had to have been better than what i endured for so long with him...

i want to believe that love is real, and it can be pure and good.  i want to believe that it is possible for two people to come to regard and care for each other so deeply that no force can tear them apart.  i want that bond with someone.  i want someone to wake up each day with me, just wanting to make each other smile and laugh, even when life is shitty...because how shitty can it be if we're together, right?  i want to be someone's reason, and i want our love to be epic and eternal.  i don't want to have to kneel and beg for it, or be humiliated into it, or degraded for it.

and i certainly don't need a wedding, or even a ring, to know that i have it.  

today...

i do not miss you.

i do not miss your boorish face and that stupid, tired and crusty old goatee that has been hanging off it for literally decades now...

or your wannabe dark framed glasses that you think make you look like Elvis Costello.  they don't, they just make you look like an old man trying way too hard to appear young and hip.  the same goes for all your ridiculous hats you like to wear...you've been a poser from the day i met you, and you'll be one til the day you go into the ground.

i do not miss that giant bald head of yours.  it left greasy marks on everything it touched...the pillow cases, the back of the couch cushions, your hats...disgusting.

i do not miss that smug smile you like to flash, full of arrogance and self importance.  you're fooling no one.  everyone sees how you crack at the first sign of pressure and stress, and your meltdowns are never pretty...oh, and get yourself to a dentist!  the plaque is literally dripping off of your yellow teeth.  kissing you was never a pleasure...

i do not miss watching you preen and prance around in the mirror, taking more time to compose yourself than a self obsessed teenage girl before a date.  the obsessing over which tie to wear, when you end up wearing the same three week after week.  the way you couldn't pass a mirror without stepping back to admire yourself in the reflection was nauseating, because you care so much about how others estimate your appearance, yet...

you don't care that you burp and fart unapologetically in front of anyone, and take a shit with the bathroom door wide open (by the way, i'm sure the new wife must love this).  you're disgusting, and the smells and sounds that emanate from your carefully composed body are like a metaphor for who you are...a sack of shit trying to hide itself in J.Crew and Brooks Brothers.

i do not miss your prima donna antics, especially when it came to your salary compared to someone else's.  the way you carry on because 'you save lives everyday' (really doc?  wiping noses and cleaning up puke and shit is saving lives, huh?), and should therefore be celebrated with fanfare and obscene amounts of money is absolutely ludicrous, and you need to get over yourself.  besides, if that is what you expected out of your career in medicine, you chose the wrong the field, buddy...and the wrong town.  yes, my brother the car salesman, can and does make twice as much as you in a year easily, and if you don't like that fact, well, as they say, 'tough titties, my friend'.  stop your fucking whining, go do the job YOU chose, and be thankful that you still have it.  because, sooner or later, that big mouth of yours is going to break HIPAA laws YET AGAIN, and this time, someone is going to report you.

i do not miss spending time with you.  you became boring so quickly, i don't know when it happened, but it made you as dull as a rock.  it wasn't just that we had so little in common anymore, you really had no passion or interest in much of anything.  except buying records...like another aging hipster wannabe.  living vicariously through the talented expressions of others rather than your own.  you became sad and pathetic...flat.  i encouraged you so often to find things to make you happy, don't just be your job, but you ignored me.  it wasn't that we grew in different directions, it was that you chose to stop growing or evolving at all... 

i do not miss the way you would take the stress of your day out on me.  it was a never ending roller coaster that rode the waves of your emotional lability from day to day.  one moment you were giving me the cold shoulder and refusing to open up to me, and the next you would be lashing out at whomever was closest...me, your mother, your friends.  your passive aggressiveness knew no bounds.  i would give you a grocery list, and you would purposely bring home the wrong things time after time.  you would hold money over my head, like i was a child begging for an allowance.  there was a time when i wanted to be your solace, but you were as inconsolable as a child always.  i wanted a child, but i was damned if it was going to be a spoiled, grown ass man...

i do not miss your neurotic, histrionic personality, or your need to be coddled at every turn.  i am not your mother, and no matter how badly you wanted me to be, i wasn't going to treat you as if i were.  i was not going to greet you at the door each day you came home from work wearing an apron and handing you a beer.  i was not going to feed your flaws, the way everyone else around you did.  you can't conduct yourself and behave like a child, and then expect me to respect you like a man.  its just not how it works.  your constant worrying about everything, your inability to cope with the slightest obstacle or challenge, your inadequacy to make decisions for yourself, were all what led me to lose all respect for you...as my husband, as someone trying to be a man, as a doctor, as my friend.  

i do not miss your judgements or your criticisms of me or anything that i held important.  any effort i made, any challenge i took on for myself, any dream i wanted to pursue, was always accompanied by your very vocal doubts and denigration.  when i began my business from scratch, you told me not to bother going out and trying to sell anything, no one would buy.  you always had a 'yeah, but...' to give to me whenever i tried to take control of my own life.  both of us never perceived you to be a Dominant in our relationship, but you most definitely wielded your psychological and emotional power over me.  you aimed to make me feel so worthless and tiny, less than you, lucky to have you.  what was it, Jxxxxx?  were you just so damn afraid that i would be better than you at anything?  so good that i would eclipse who you are, and leave you?  was it your way of keeping me under your thumb?  because it worked...for years.

i do not miss feeling like i would be the one to have to protect us if we were in any kind of peril.  i do not miss being the only one who could properly swing a hammer.  i do not miss your widemouthed snoring that echoed through the house, driving me into another bed just to get some rest.  i do not miss the way you showed more affection to every other woman except for me.  i do not miss how you gave gifts only to receive recognition, or how you only helped others when it meant something good for you.  i do not miss having to beg you to pick up your messes or spend time with our dog.  there is so much, Jxxxxx, so much...

but most of all, i do not miss watching you put yourself up on that pedestal, Doc.  you, and everyone else around you who doesn't know any better yet.  i know there will be a day that one by one, they will.  they will see what a superficial fraud you are; what a self centered, narcissistic child you really are...and they're going to wonder, just like i did, how they went so long suffering your bullshit.

socially accepted prostitution...

i gave You my heart, very purely and truly from the moment i committed to You way back in 1995. i never cheated on You, i loved You, adored You, lusted after You, made sure You knew it all the time...Your first blow was choosing to bring a girl home that summer night when i had to work, march her right past Your parents and up to Your room, so that You could 'listen to music'. You and i 'listened to music' all the time up in Your room, didn't we? 

i know that i should have walked then, but i didn't. and how was my love and adoration returned to me? You joined volleyball, and then began fucking around with a skank on Your team, so much so that i had to come out to see it for myself, and after four long island iced teas, You watched me drive myself home to lancaster from angola. what a gooood and caring boyfriend You were, Jxxxxx Kxxxxxx...

Jxxxxx, even if You didn't ever touch a single one of the handfuls of girls that You have associated with outside of our marriage, it was the ILLUSION OF IMPROPRIETY on Your part that crushed me. You failed. You failed to make me see or feel Your love. Your only demonstrations of love from the very beginning were monetary and material. do You recall that first christmas? You went way overboard, and You set the tone for the rest of our lives together. it taught me that well, if i couldn't have a real act of Your love, at least You would buy me something...You created a brat in me, the way Your parents and family made a brat out of You.

see? what i have never, ever heard from You is a truly genuine apology, one that reflects that You took me and my heart and You crushed them both from the very beginning, unprovoked. no one around You knows that...how You are an attention whore so badly that You will break commitments and vows and crush people who love You deeply, just so that You can get the fix You need from someone in the moment You need it. it happened again and again, and each time, You had a choice: You could have said no, i have made a commitment to someone; or, if You did not want to be with me, and You were unhappy and just wanted out, You again had a choice to buck up like a MAN and just tell me so that we could part and go be happy. instead, You let it drag out for fifteen years. 

do you know why i really asked for the open marriage? it was not just because Your limp dick became useless after only two minutes in the bedroom...it was because i wanted to know that You would fight for me, that i was worth THAT much to You. You don't believe this, i know, but if You had simply looked at me from across that dining room table that evening when we discussed it, and said, 'i love you, you're my wife, and there is no way i'm going to let you go be someone else's...i will do my part to make you happy.' it really would have been that simple -- all of our lives together -- all i needed to see was that i was cherished and loved above all else in Your life, like i was supposed to be. i would have never moved away when i did. and as for my final infidelities to You, they were absolutely retaliatory for Your treatment of me. i'm no whore...but i am human, and i deserved to be loved and touched and satisfied just like You. You reduced our marriage to prostitution -- every single time we tried to make love, You came in less than two minutes. DOZENS of times. it was as though You were pissed and resentful that You were 'footing the bill', and You felt like i owed You something. whether it was Your sentiment or not, it is exactly how it was perceived. i didn't emasculate You...You did it to Yourself. You have to be a man with a spine and a set of balls before someone can take it from You...You never grew up and got out of that sick bed, Kxxxxxx, and i was tired of waiting for You to come join me so we could enjoy our life as Man and Wife.

i guess i am starting to realize that You -- pathetic and childlike and spineless as You are -- were my first Dominant.  my self imposed inertia in our relationship was my tacit allowance of Your horrendous treatment of me for so many years, especially in the beginning, and long before i went seeking something like that out for myself...