When he says things to me like he did this morning (previous post), I feel flayed.
I feel wretched. I start doubting myself and all that I did to raise my children and to try to be a good wife.
I start thinking that I am a terrible person. Well, I already think that, but I try to keep those thoughts at bay. But when he starts in, then I start believing again that I am terrible and unlovable.
And things only escalate from there … that no one will ever love me, that I could never be with someone, that I would screw up any relationship that I was in.
This past Wednesday was my birthday. There is a young man at work, late 20’s I would guess, who sometimes really acts like a little boy but is actually pretty mature and thoughtful. Almost every time he walks by my desk, he asks if there are any meetings. (Sometimes when there are meetings, food is brought in and then left overs are put in the break room.) He’s always looking for free food. It’s kind of a joke.
So Wednesday, he asked if there were any meetings and any food. I told him, no, but that it was my birthday and he should get cake for me and then he could have some of the cake. (This is done quite often at work when it is someone’s birthday.) Well, he took me seriously. That afternoon when I got back from lunch, he and several others were gathered around my desk. There were signs they had made that said Happy Birthday, and there was cake – chocolate cake! – and they had bought me some flowers and they sang Happy Birthday to me. It made me feel very special.
On Friday, I had gone down to get the mail and I put it in everyone’s boxes and then I was coming back to my desk. I said to the girl who covers for me when I get the mail, well, I did the mail and now I need a male. One of the other men in the office was walking by and he heard what I said. He turned around and said, what? I told him that I didn’t mean for him to hear that. He told me that he had a bunch of friends, frat brothers, and he would see what he could do. Later, when he was leaving, he asked me how old I was. (I would guess that he’s in his thirties.) I told him that I was forty-nine. Then I said, not bad for forty-nine, huh. He said, I think you’re hot. But don’t tell HR* I said that. (*Human Resources.) I took it as a compliment! He wasn’t being crude, just honest. He said he said there were some pretty good guys among his frat brothers.
Anyhow, I don’t know if anything will come of that, but it was flattering to be told, a couple days after your forty-ninth birthday, that you’re hot.
So, then my husband says these things to me and I believe that no one will want me, hot or not.