Thursday, March 18, 2010

...and the horse you rode in on

This will be less than eloquent. And decades in the making.

I drank too much gin, two strong tonics, alone at home two nights ago. It’s self-medication, I know that, a response to the tired felt in body and passion. And I did something mean-spirited and unlike me, I know that. Sent an e-mail to an ex-sister-in-law. I have two of them, neither I’ve missed much. I wasn’t kind in my short message, the first in over a year or maybe two (I don’t keep track of such nonsense things). I asked when she planned to screw over the man she ran too after flying away from 13 years of marriage, on the sly and her then husband’s dime and with the diamond ring he bought her. Absolutely cunty and out of character for me, I know that. I can't and don't want to know what happened on the inside, the implosion, but I know she wasn’t there as the house was foreclosed on, or to watch me bring sandwiches and paper cups of miso soup in the hopes he’d put something on the alcohol in his stomach. She ran as I wondered who would heal after another agonizing rip in the family seam and who wouldn't. Myself included. Thought she was a friend, and she left me too.

She didn't see a lot.

She’s never had to fend for herself, really. She won’t tell you that, instead insist on stories of strife and suffering. She was never as put-upon as she believed herself to be. Mostly she was dead.

She probably should have run.

Her reply the next morning to sober eyes, the first of three e-mails, gave the impression she’d changed. Felt bad I’d let something out-of-control in me release pent up anger. Half a bottle of Tanqueray went down the sink that day. Thought for a moment she’d come away from the chaos like he did. I reacted sadly to the zinger tucked in that first note, a tactic employed by most of the women in my family. Passive aggression is an art form.

I typed back nothing, more embarrassed at my own behavior than anything. Then a second e-mail moments later destroyed me. Briefly. A man cheats on his woman and she first asks, “What does she look like?” A woman cheats on her man, he only wants to know how big the other guys dick is. Insecure woman call out and shine a light on the flaws they most fear in themselves. I attacked first because I'm jealous of women who seek a man to make all the bad go away. I've never been helpless, or allowed to be. To retaliate, she turned the blade where it hit major organs to call me fat, belittle my relationships and sing-song 80's clich├ęs like the really bad blonde Heather.

Know what's not passive aggressive? Fuck and you. Fu-huhu-huhu-huhu-you.

And fuck those who hold you up for a time, offer shelter on their terms only to later reveal arms covered in barbed wire. Who allow no mistakes and demand apologies for what they think is wrong with you, but never accept them anyway.

I’ve got magic beans, women who talk to me in truth, raise an eye when I behave badly but allow me to move past it. And men who stand by me, not over me. A family of friends who don’t allow my wonder and joy to be fouled by latent unhappiness and joy in others suffering.



SereneBabe said...

While of course I object to the use of a "Heather" as an insult (I get the pop culture reference and am trying to be funny), this was an *excellent* post. Thanks for writing it.

Anna said...

"offer shelter on their terms only to later reveal arms covered in barbed wire"

So well said. She's not worth your energy. There are those who will twist anything/everything against you due to their own insecurities and there is just no way to deal with them except walk away.

Jodie Kash said...

Are you an evil "Heather" or a good Heather? I know the answer ;) Tough to write, more so to post, because 1) I come off looking bad and 2) am embarrassed my Electro Woman shield failed me.

I'm human after all, dammit, and have more than a bit of the insecure woman in me too, given how much it bent me over the last two days. For many reasons, including that I asked for it.

And Anna, I know. Trust I know. Walking away is hard. Harder yet when no one comes after you. I’ve had a lifetime of that (up until now) and sometimes still trip people up, make them run faster so I don’t escape.

Butter Bean said...

I'm just so grateful to have a friend, insightful and lovely who really, really gets "it" and then shares with others. It sucks that this "it" was a nasty sucker punch to the heart.

I would cross oceans to catch you!


Jodie Kash said...

Amy, doll, lost your comment...but no, you're not a magic bean. You're bean + Rosebud. And there's only one of those. ;)

Red Shoes said...

Unfortunately, my biggest short coming is to be there unconditionally for women who need support through the dark times... only to pull back or away when things get better... and then I become a distant memory...

As Monty Python would say... "pffffttt... I fart in your direction..."


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