Rob and Andy worked at the same place. It was a building full of 20 and 30 somethings who made a good living, sat in cubicles all day, and happy-houred themselves silly every weekend.
It was fun. I got to know some neat people. They were all funny, good-time co-workers.
I became a little uncomfortable of one woman in particluar, though. She sat near Rob in their "pod" which is essentially a big cubicle with 4 people. Her name was Sheri. She liked to be called Sher.
They had waaaaay too much in common for my liking. The liked the same kind of music, they were both from a retail managament background, and they had 8 hours a day to chat.
I had this bad feeling. I couldn't pinpoint it and Rob poo-pooed it, of course.
I mean, I liked her well enough, and she was always very nice to me, but there was something...off.
Like, once when we were all out for happy hour, I caught her staring at me. I told Rob later that I felt like she was watching me...and wanted to be me.
I know that sounds incredibly conceited. I can't explain it. I have always had a significant gut instinct (even though I had typically chosen to ignore it) and I could just sense things often.
And I sensed something with her. Like maybe if there wasn't something going on between them already, there could be if someone made a move...
Anyway, I digress a little...
One weekend another friend from my past JCPenney's came to visit. Marybeth. She and I went to a great community festival and we invited Rob to go. He declined saying he didn't feel well.
I tried to call him several times while we were out, but got no answer at home.
When we finally made it back to the house, we found that Rob's car wasn't in the garage. In fact, Marybeth had parked in the driveway right behind his car and he had somehow managed to make it out. I mean...she was right behind his car. I still don't know how he did it.
He wasn't home, but left a note saying that he went to have his car looked at and then to the gym. Marybeth stayed for a bit and then got on the road.
I sat at home alone and stewed about where he was. He'd been gone a while, although I had no idea how long since the note didn't have a time on it.
I tried calling him again. Nothing.
Finally...he got home. Wearing his regular clothes.
He took the dog out and I ran to the garage, yanked open his car and found his gym bag.
With his clean smelling and neatly folded gym clothes inside.
I don't know about you, but when I go to the gym, I usually wear my gym clothes.
And they're ANYTHING BUT clean smelling and neatly folded when I'm done with them.
I had a knot in the pit of my stomach.
When he came over to kiss me, I made a point to inhale deeply.
Nothing.
Weird. No sweat, no cologne, no nothing.
Before he'd gotten home, I found our phone left in the office upstairs and hit "redial."
An automated recording answered.
For the Red Roof Inn.
They were kind enough to include directions to their location.
I got in my car and drove to that hotel. I drove through the parking lot.
I didn't see his car.
So, already I was on high alert. I knew something wasn't right.
But I let it go. For now.
The next day we were driving in his car and the problem he'd been having (the reason he supposedly went to the dealership to have it looked at) was still acting up. I commented, "Hmmm, that's weird. You better tell them they didn't fix the problem when you were there yesterday." Playing dumb. He didn't respond.
Finally, Monday rolled around and I called the dealership. They had no record that he was there. They assured me they would have to have a record if he'd brought it in.
Then I called the gym.
They told me that he had not been there that day. He would have had to check in at the front desk. And he hadn't.
So there it was....all layed out in front of me. There were pieces and they weren't adding up, but I still didn't know what it all meant, specifically.
Then, while I was on the computer. I found it. The Mother Load.
I still, to this day, don't know how I found it.
We had Comcast as our service provider. Somehow, I stumbled across an AOL account.
His.
I couldn't figure out his password, but SOMEHOW I was able to see the emails he sent. I could see who they were sent to, who they were from, and the subject, even though I couldn't open and see the body of the email.
What I could see was enough. They were all from and to women.
Women I didn't know. Some that included pictures, even though I couldn't see the picture, I could see that there was a picture attached.
And I could also see that he'd used a picture that I had taken of him on vacation as the one he sent out to interested parties.
I was sick.
I called him at work.
Oh yes I did.
And I layed out all my evidence. All the reasons I knew he was lying. I told him I'd found his hidden email and that I was done. I was leaving.
Then, I drove to his work. And I marched back to his cube and took our picture out of the frame and tore it in half.
Oh yes I did.
I made a little scene. Not enough to get thrown out, but enough that his neighbors knew something was happening.
He came home early from work that day while I was packing. I left the email open for him on the computer so he could see it.
He walked in the office, with his hands sheepishly dug in his pockets, eyeballed the computer, and then said, "Son of a bitch. You did find it."
I was disgusted. That's what he had to say to me?
We had taken out a loan to pay for the wedding plans and put that money in a CD.
Somehow, I was able to cash it out myself (without his signature or permission) and I wrote him a letter saying that he could be responsible for the loan but I was taking the money to start my new life without him.
I also took the ring and threw it at him.
I then called everyone I knew and told them what a pig he was.
I feel so bad for everyone now. I burdened them with all this stuff. I'm sure they were thinking, "Well, yeah!"
I packed a bag...and went to stay with Andy and Anna. As much as I thought Andy was also a pig, I had nowhere esle to go.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
It's The World I Know
So I thought for exactly 3.2 seconds before agreeing to move with Rob.
This was it. I'd been waiting my whole life for this kind of mature, adult relationship with a man who was successful in his career, financially stable, and exciting.
Let's just nevermind that I still couldn't call him by his first name.
And NO, I didn't call him Mr. Smith...I called him Babe.
Or Honey.
It worked for us.
We packed up and moved about 3 hours away to a great city with lots of culture and opportunity.
Luckily (?) Rob's friend and his new wife already lived there so we'd have built-in friends right off the bat.
At this point in my life, I'd already carefully distanced myself from pretty much everyone in my family, so moving was not an issue. Things between me and Missy were fine, but distant. The same with me and my other sister. Things with me and my parents were amicable. Maybe they were glad I seemed happy and was moving on with my life.
Rob and I were set up in corporate housing for a while and happily went house hunting.
We settled on one that I fell in love with.
I found a job in management working retail. It was my first management job and I felt all kinds of important. I was bringing home a decent paycheck and contributing financially.
Rob's job was at the corporate office of a national retail chain. It was exciting stuff. Here we were white collar and playing house. We lived in a beautiful neighborhood with a beautiful home and solid, professional jobs. Nice.
Of ourse, I was gunning for a ring in the worst way. I was ready. I thought, this was my white picket fence. Let's make this official.
Rob, in his thirties, was A-OK with our situation as it was. But we lived as if we were married in every other way.
Things seemed to be going well. I felt very lucky to be living the life I was.
But I always knew in the back of my mind that I wasn't enough for him.
He was a self proclaimed agnostic and, even though I was not actively attending church or reading my Bible, and I WAS actively living outside of the life God would want for me, I still held my convictions somewhere deep in my heart.
It was a daily battle with my conscience and I thought that if we just got married already, the guilt would ease a little.
We debated often about religion. Nothing too heated, but enough that it was a wedge between us on some level.
I tried to attend a church in the area, but I couldn't find one I liked. And working retail does not allow for very many Sundays off.
I was, as Rob used to call me, very "Polly-Anna-ish." He thought I saw the world through rose-colored glasses. Now I think that's hilarious considering all that had happened before I even met him. He liked to tell me he had a dark side and didn't want to pollute me with it.
I knew it was there.
He had some quirks that I tried to look past.
Like porn.
Oh my, the porn.
Not a stack found underneath the couch...boxes and boxes that he refused to get rid of.
He said they were collectors items.
It didn't matter that I absolutely HATED them.
They might be worth money some day.
Rob also had some....out there...ideas about what would be fun to do as a couple.
My mother reads this, so I won't get too technical.
Let's just say that I knew I would never be enough.
Unless I was ready to let down my guard and stop being such a "prude" he would never really be happy with me.
Remember that I was 21. I had zero self-esteem and I had spent a lot of my past trying to make someone else happy. All to end up getting kicked in the teeth.
And yet...here I was again. Struggling with the same fear. I wasn't good enough.
And his friend...the one who lived there...he was poison in our relationship.
Andy. Andy and his wife Anna. Andy was a body builder. He loved himself and thought he was IT. Everything he did was about show. His wife Anna was beautiful. She was also not exactly a Yale candidate. I mean, she was educated and some may even say smart, but she also seemed very gullible. She ate up anything Andy said. Rob had told me things about Andy (like how he carried on affairs with women he worked with) so I felt like Anna just closed her eyes to most of this.
Andy acted like he liked me to my face. But behind my back (according to Rob anyway) he would tell Rob I was a "head case" and that if I would only lose about 10 lbs, I would be perfect.
So I don't know if Andy actually said that stuff or if Rob just told me Andy did? I don't really much care now. They're both lumped in the same category in my head.
I actually tried to be more bold. I allowed him to put my picture on websites (FULLY CLOTHED, mind you.) These websites were like E-Harmony but for couples looking for other couples. The idea was to meet 'like-minded' people. It wasn't exactly swinging, per se, but he had this crazy "Every Man's Fantasy" thing and he wanted to include me in it.
I was horrified, but also wanting so desperately to make him happy that I conceded to the website. Maybe I thought he'd grow tired of the idea and nothing would come of it? We actually met up with a couple of people. Awkward meetups in bars where we chatted and got to know each other and the whole time, in the back of my mind, I knew that both men in the group had the same idea...how can we get these two girls together?
Ugh. I'm grossed out even just remembering it. And so angry that I ever put myself out there like that. Knowing now what I do about online predators, I am appalled that I ever thought it was harmless to do that.
Both meetups did not result in anything more than me feeling like I needed to shower immediately. Thank God.
Pretty soon, I realized that all the porn magazines had also led to online porn. There were tons of sites that I could see in the computer's history.
It wasn't long until our personal life was slim to none. I didn't get it. Here I was, trying to entertain his crazy fantasies and he still wanted nothing to do with me.
I think that no matter what I would have done it wouldn't have been enough. He resented me for not wanting to do it and if I had done it, he probably would have lost all respect for me.
Here's where I may get the timeline of some events confused...
One Christmas, my sister Missy came to stay. I had to work, but Rob only had to work a half day. I tried calling his desk from the store, but kept getting his voicemail. I finally called around to the main desk and got a security guard. He told me the office was closed and no one was in the building. And no one had been.
Hmmmm. I called home about every 15 minutes, and got nothing.
When I FINALLY got Rob on the phone, I told him what the security guard said. He finally told me that he was afraid to tell me that he didn't work because he thought I'd be mad that he was off and I wasn't.
WTF?
I was so furious. He came to pick me up that night with my sister (who arrived after he got home). I was so angry I couldn't even look at him. I never did find out where he was.
I eventually left retail for a nannying job. I nannied for 2 doctors in their home. They had 2 adorable little girls.
And feeling like a piece of crap.
Rob and I got along and seemed happy, despite the above story, but there were definitely some missing pieces. He still hadn't proposed and our personal life left a lot to be desired. Literally.
I saw my doctor (not the ones I nannied for) who confirmed that I was depressed and she prescribed an antidepressant. Rob was less than thrilled. He was not supportive at all. He didn't like the idea of me having to take a chemical in order to be "happy." I took it anyway.
It helped me to stabilize my emotions. Prior to taking it, I had a couple of bad episodes of laying on the floor and crying, hysterically, for no reason. Rob wasn't home. I would never have let him see me like that. That's why I was more than willing to try anything. I just wanted to feel normal.
Then...Christmas rolled around and on Christmas Eve I got the biggest surprise. An engagment ring. And it was beautiful.
Rob had gone all out to create this lavish proposal where he spelled out "WILL YOU" using roses and had music playing. There was even a bottle of champagne and the fire was burning.
This is it! I thought this was finally the turning point for us.
But you know better than that, don't you?
It was only a short time after that my world came crashing down.
Again.
This was it. I'd been waiting my whole life for this kind of mature, adult relationship with a man who was successful in his career, financially stable, and exciting.
Let's just nevermind that I still couldn't call him by his first name.
And NO, I didn't call him Mr. Smith...I called him Babe.
Or Honey.
It worked for us.
We packed up and moved about 3 hours away to a great city with lots of culture and opportunity.
Luckily (?) Rob's friend and his new wife already lived there so we'd have built-in friends right off the bat.
At this point in my life, I'd already carefully distanced myself from pretty much everyone in my family, so moving was not an issue. Things between me and Missy were fine, but distant. The same with me and my other sister. Things with me and my parents were amicable. Maybe they were glad I seemed happy and was moving on with my life.
Rob and I were set up in corporate housing for a while and happily went house hunting.
We settled on one that I fell in love with.
I found a job in management working retail. It was my first management job and I felt all kinds of important. I was bringing home a decent paycheck and contributing financially.
Rob's job was at the corporate office of a national retail chain. It was exciting stuff. Here we were white collar and playing house. We lived in a beautiful neighborhood with a beautiful home and solid, professional jobs. Nice.
Of ourse, I was gunning for a ring in the worst way. I was ready. I thought, this was my white picket fence. Let's make this official.
Rob, in his thirties, was A-OK with our situation as it was. But we lived as if we were married in every other way.
Things seemed to be going well. I felt very lucky to be living the life I was.
But I always knew in the back of my mind that I wasn't enough for him.
He was a self proclaimed agnostic and, even though I was not actively attending church or reading my Bible, and I WAS actively living outside of the life God would want for me, I still held my convictions somewhere deep in my heart.
It was a daily battle with my conscience and I thought that if we just got married already, the guilt would ease a little.
We debated often about religion. Nothing too heated, but enough that it was a wedge between us on some level.
I tried to attend a church in the area, but I couldn't find one I liked. And working retail does not allow for very many Sundays off.
I was, as Rob used to call me, very "Polly-Anna-ish." He thought I saw the world through rose-colored glasses. Now I think that's hilarious considering all that had happened before I even met him. He liked to tell me he had a dark side and didn't want to pollute me with it.
I knew it was there.
He had some quirks that I tried to look past.
Like porn.
Oh my, the porn.
Not a stack found underneath the couch...boxes and boxes that he refused to get rid of.
He said they were collectors items.
It didn't matter that I absolutely HATED them.
They might be worth money some day.
Rob also had some....out there...ideas about what would be fun to do as a couple.
My mother reads this, so I won't get too technical.
Let's just say that I knew I would never be enough.
Unless I was ready to let down my guard and stop being such a "prude" he would never really be happy with me.
Remember that I was 21. I had zero self-esteem and I had spent a lot of my past trying to make someone else happy. All to end up getting kicked in the teeth.
And yet...here I was again. Struggling with the same fear. I wasn't good enough.
And his friend...the one who lived there...he was poison in our relationship.
Andy. Andy and his wife Anna. Andy was a body builder. He loved himself and thought he was IT. Everything he did was about show. His wife Anna was beautiful. She was also not exactly a Yale candidate. I mean, she was educated and some may even say smart, but she also seemed very gullible. She ate up anything Andy said. Rob had told me things about Andy (like how he carried on affairs with women he worked with) so I felt like Anna just closed her eyes to most of this.
Andy acted like he liked me to my face. But behind my back (according to Rob anyway) he would tell Rob I was a "head case" and that if I would only lose about 10 lbs, I would be perfect.
So I don't know if Andy actually said that stuff or if Rob just told me Andy did? I don't really much care now. They're both lumped in the same category in my head.
I actually tried to be more bold. I allowed him to put my picture on websites (FULLY CLOTHED, mind you.) These websites were like E-Harmony but for couples looking for other couples. The idea was to meet 'like-minded' people. It wasn't exactly swinging, per se, but he had this crazy "Every Man's Fantasy" thing and he wanted to include me in it.
I was horrified, but also wanting so desperately to make him happy that I conceded to the website. Maybe I thought he'd grow tired of the idea and nothing would come of it? We actually met up with a couple of people. Awkward meetups in bars where we chatted and got to know each other and the whole time, in the back of my mind, I knew that both men in the group had the same idea...how can we get these two girls together?
Ugh. I'm grossed out even just remembering it. And so angry that I ever put myself out there like that. Knowing now what I do about online predators, I am appalled that I ever thought it was harmless to do that.
Both meetups did not result in anything more than me feeling like I needed to shower immediately. Thank God.
Pretty soon, I realized that all the porn magazines had also led to online porn. There were tons of sites that I could see in the computer's history.
It wasn't long until our personal life was slim to none. I didn't get it. Here I was, trying to entertain his crazy fantasies and he still wanted nothing to do with me.
I think that no matter what I would have done it wouldn't have been enough. He resented me for not wanting to do it and if I had done it, he probably would have lost all respect for me.
Here's where I may get the timeline of some events confused...
One Christmas, my sister Missy came to stay. I had to work, but Rob only had to work a half day. I tried calling his desk from the store, but kept getting his voicemail. I finally called around to the main desk and got a security guard. He told me the office was closed and no one was in the building. And no one had been.
Hmmmm. I called home about every 15 minutes, and got nothing.
When I FINALLY got Rob on the phone, I told him what the security guard said. He finally told me that he was afraid to tell me that he didn't work because he thought I'd be mad that he was off and I wasn't.
WTF?
I was so furious. He came to pick me up that night with my sister (who arrived after he got home). I was so angry I couldn't even look at him. I never did find out where he was.
I eventually left retail for a nannying job. I nannied for 2 doctors in their home. They had 2 adorable little girls.
And feeling like a piece of crap.
Rob and I got along and seemed happy, despite the above story, but there were definitely some missing pieces. He still hadn't proposed and our personal life left a lot to be desired. Literally.
I saw my doctor (not the ones I nannied for) who confirmed that I was depressed and she prescribed an antidepressant. Rob was less than thrilled. He was not supportive at all. He didn't like the idea of me having to take a chemical in order to be "happy." I took it anyway.
It helped me to stabilize my emotions. Prior to taking it, I had a couple of bad episodes of laying on the floor and crying, hysterically, for no reason. Rob wasn't home. I would never have let him see me like that. That's why I was more than willing to try anything. I just wanted to feel normal.
Then...Christmas rolled around and on Christmas Eve I got the biggest surprise. An engagment ring. And it was beautiful.
Rob had gone all out to create this lavish proposal where he spelled out "WILL YOU" using roses and had music playing. There was even a bottle of champagne and the fire was burning.
This is it! I thought this was finally the turning point for us.
But you know better than that, don't you?
It was only a short time after that my world came crashing down.
Again.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Dumb & Dumber
Even before the ink was dry on the divorce papers, Rob and I became an item. I guess you could call it that. At least I thought so. Now, looking back, I'm pretty convinced I was more a steady booty call for him at the time.
He'd already broken up with his girlfriend and I gladly took her place.
We kept our relationship a secret (which seemed to fit right in with the way I'd been living for the past couple of years) because I wasn't sure how everyone would react.
My sister was still friends with Carla & Grant, something that grated on me. Whenever she would chat about them, I would tell her to be discerning or careful. Of course she had no idea why I was saying that.
She and I talked about this just recently...we can't remember the timeline for when I finally told her. But I eventually dropped the bomb. I think it was actually before I moved back to Arkansas for the second time. When her husband, my brother-in-law Chris found out, he went berserk.
You see, Chris and Grant were never in danger of being friends. Sure, there was a time that they were chummy because my sister adored them and was best friends with Carla. But, as Grant tended to do with most men, he rubbed Chris the wrong way. Too many chiefs, you could say. Alpha Dog and all that.
So, Chris sunk his teeth into this new way to bring Grant down off his 'high horse.' He went before the church. So, it was brought back up all over again. In came Tony and his wife this time (I have no idea why she wasn't included the first time), Grant and Carla, Roy and Connie and Chris and Missy. Meetings were held, voices were raised. Feathers were ruffled.
As far as I remember (since I was not included in these meetings) still nothing happened. Other than some bruised egos. In fact, I think everyone involved (other than my sister and brother-in-law) was more annoyed that I had rehashed it and dared tell anyone else about it. In their minds it had been settled once and for all at the last set of meetings. I think they thought I was being vengeful. More of my supposition.
My sister became just as disillusioned with the church as I had become. She was in a bad place...hurting for me and hurting for her lost friendship and the realization that the people she thought she knew and trusted had kept this secret for years. A secret that affected someone she dearly loved. Yours truly.
Fast forward now back to where I left off.
So, here I am home again. Living with my parents. Doug officially filed for dissolution and had an attorney. We discussed everything in advance. We both met with the attorney and put it all on paper. When we got to the part about separating assets, we only had credit cards to divvy up.
The part about whether there were any children as part of the union got me.
We answered "No" but in my heart I still grieved the loss of our child.
For some reason, I always felt if the baby had lived it would have been a girl. I named her (if only in my heart). Adrianna.
Anyway, the day came for us to appear in court and finalize everything. My good friend from work, Sharyn went with me. Doug and I went in the courtroom. We both got up and testified about where we were married and that we agreed to dissolve the marriage. And then it was over. Like that.
We left the courtroom, and as Sharyn and I were walking down the stairs to go to our car, I glanced out the window and saw Doug drive past. That sight will always stick with me. It was the period on the end of a tumultuous 2 years.
But onward I went...with a new guy and a new outlook on life.
I was going to enjoy life and have a good time. I had tried the straight and narrow and it just didn't seem to lead to good things. I was now 20 years old and ready to take the world by storm.
I transferred to a different Penney's in a location about an hour away. I met some great frineds there too. Closer to my age. And they liked to go out.
Pretty soon, my life became all about going out, hooking up with Rob, and having a good time. I was still living with my parents, but slowly leaving things behind at Rob's house, and staying there the majority of the time.
The Internet had just come out then and Rob had it; dial up. He used to spend a lot of time on the computer looking up random things. (Red Herring #1)
For his birthday, I bought him a cell phone. It was one of those Zach Morris ones that was almost as big as his living room. (Red Herring #2)
Once when he went out of town, I went over to his place to take care of his rabbit. His home phone rang once and then abruptly cut off. I remember thinking that was weird. Another time, when he was there, his phone rang and then the answering machine picked up. But the volume was turned all the way down.
Another time (you're going to hear that a lot for a minute), I was getting ready in his room and I noticed a piece of paper on his dresser. He'd written, "Have to cancel. Rain check?" It wasn't a note to me. And it was with a bunch of miscellaneous "pocket" paraphenalia.
Another time he sat me down and asked me if I had left something on his front door. I said no until he finally believed me. Then he produced an enormous card that had lollipos taped all over it and a very crass message addressed to him. Um, no. Not from me.
And then....one day I got home (to my parents' house) to find a letter adressed to me in weird block letters. The actual letter was typed and was full of warnings to stay away from Rob because I was merely "another notch on his bed post." It was signed, "Your Worst Enemy."
Needless to say, I was freaked out.
I went to his house immediately, but he wasn't home. I looked in his mailbox (I don't know what possesssed me to do that) and found a card from his ex-girlfriend with the same postmark (out of town) that the letter had. It had arrived the same day as my scary letter. Hmmmm, I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but...
I went to the police thinking that my life had just been threatened. Naturally, they could do nothing. I finally was able to show Rob the letter and presented my theory that his ex had sent it. He said he would handle it.
Sometime later, at night, he said he talked with her on the phone. I tried repeatedly to call him during this time, but his line was busy for close to an hour. When I finally did get through to him, he told me how he confronted her and she denied it.
Soon, it was forgotten.
On another trip out of town (Rob told me he was going out of town to see his buddy) he presented me with a gift. It was in a shopping bag. A sweater (and an ugly one, at that). And there was something else...the receipt. And guess what? It was bought in another town far from his buddies.' Interestingly (coincidentally?) it was bought in the same town where his ex lived.
I was furious. I asked him to fess up about where he bought it. He didn't know that I'd seen the receipt. He swore up and down that he'd bought it in his buddy's town. Finally, I threw the receipt at him.
Egg.on.the.face.
He finally had to admit that he'd been in his ex's hometown BUT not there to see her. He was there to see his other friends from when he'd lived there years before (which is how he met her.)
I accepted that lame excuse. The me of today wants to shake the me of years ago.
I knew he'd been seeing someone else before me even while he was with his ex girlfriend. This other girl lived far away, but he said they'd hook up when she was in town. From what I understood, she was pretty out there and not afraid of a good time.
I also knew that when he worked at all these other JCPenney's stores in different cities, he'd had affairs with several women at each. Even while he was with his then girlfriend.
Ugh. There are so many things wrong with that-- I don't even know where to start.
What was wrong with me??
Pretty soon, Rob found out he was being transferred. He found another job that landed him in another city. And he asked me to move with him.
He'd already broken up with his girlfriend and I gladly took her place.
We kept our relationship a secret (which seemed to fit right in with the way I'd been living for the past couple of years) because I wasn't sure how everyone would react.
My sister was still friends with Carla & Grant, something that grated on me. Whenever she would chat about them, I would tell her to be discerning or careful. Of course she had no idea why I was saying that.
She and I talked about this just recently...we can't remember the timeline for when I finally told her. But I eventually dropped the bomb. I think it was actually before I moved back to Arkansas for the second time. When her husband, my brother-in-law Chris found out, he went berserk.
You see, Chris and Grant were never in danger of being friends. Sure, there was a time that they were chummy because my sister adored them and was best friends with Carla. But, as Grant tended to do with most men, he rubbed Chris the wrong way. Too many chiefs, you could say. Alpha Dog and all that.
So, Chris sunk his teeth into this new way to bring Grant down off his 'high horse.' He went before the church. So, it was brought back up all over again. In came Tony and his wife this time (I have no idea why she wasn't included the first time), Grant and Carla, Roy and Connie and Chris and Missy. Meetings were held, voices were raised. Feathers were ruffled.
As far as I remember (since I was not included in these meetings) still nothing happened. Other than some bruised egos. In fact, I think everyone involved (other than my sister and brother-in-law) was more annoyed that I had rehashed it and dared tell anyone else about it. In their minds it had been settled once and for all at the last set of meetings. I think they thought I was being vengeful. More of my supposition.
My sister became just as disillusioned with the church as I had become. She was in a bad place...hurting for me and hurting for her lost friendship and the realization that the people she thought she knew and trusted had kept this secret for years. A secret that affected someone she dearly loved. Yours truly.
Fast forward now back to where I left off.
So, here I am home again. Living with my parents. Doug officially filed for dissolution and had an attorney. We discussed everything in advance. We both met with the attorney and put it all on paper. When we got to the part about separating assets, we only had credit cards to divvy up.
The part about whether there were any children as part of the union got me.
We answered "No" but in my heart I still grieved the loss of our child.
For some reason, I always felt if the baby had lived it would have been a girl. I named her (if only in my heart). Adrianna.
Anyway, the day came for us to appear in court and finalize everything. My good friend from work, Sharyn went with me. Doug and I went in the courtroom. We both got up and testified about where we were married and that we agreed to dissolve the marriage. And then it was over. Like that.
We left the courtroom, and as Sharyn and I were walking down the stairs to go to our car, I glanced out the window and saw Doug drive past. That sight will always stick with me. It was the period on the end of a tumultuous 2 years.
But onward I went...with a new guy and a new outlook on life.
I was going to enjoy life and have a good time. I had tried the straight and narrow and it just didn't seem to lead to good things. I was now 20 years old and ready to take the world by storm.
I transferred to a different Penney's in a location about an hour away. I met some great frineds there too. Closer to my age. And they liked to go out.
Pretty soon, my life became all about going out, hooking up with Rob, and having a good time. I was still living with my parents, but slowly leaving things behind at Rob's house, and staying there the majority of the time.
The Internet had just come out then and Rob had it; dial up. He used to spend a lot of time on the computer looking up random things. (Red Herring #1)
For his birthday, I bought him a cell phone. It was one of those Zach Morris ones that was almost as big as his living room. (Red Herring #2)
Once when he went out of town, I went over to his place to take care of his rabbit. His home phone rang once and then abruptly cut off. I remember thinking that was weird. Another time, when he was there, his phone rang and then the answering machine picked up. But the volume was turned all the way down.
Another time (you're going to hear that a lot for a minute), I was getting ready in his room and I noticed a piece of paper on his dresser. He'd written, "Have to cancel. Rain check?" It wasn't a note to me. And it was with a bunch of miscellaneous "pocket" paraphenalia.
Another time he sat me down and asked me if I had left something on his front door. I said no until he finally believed me. Then he produced an enormous card that had lollipos taped all over it and a very crass message addressed to him. Um, no. Not from me.
And then....one day I got home (to my parents' house) to find a letter adressed to me in weird block letters. The actual letter was typed and was full of warnings to stay away from Rob because I was merely "another notch on his bed post." It was signed, "Your Worst Enemy."
Needless to say, I was freaked out.
I went to his house immediately, but he wasn't home. I looked in his mailbox (I don't know what possesssed me to do that) and found a card from his ex-girlfriend with the same postmark (out of town) that the letter had. It had arrived the same day as my scary letter. Hmmmm, I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but...
I went to the police thinking that my life had just been threatened. Naturally, they could do nothing. I finally was able to show Rob the letter and presented my theory that his ex had sent it. He said he would handle it.
Sometime later, at night, he said he talked with her on the phone. I tried repeatedly to call him during this time, but his line was busy for close to an hour. When I finally did get through to him, he told me how he confronted her and she denied it.
Soon, it was forgotten.
On another trip out of town (Rob told me he was going out of town to see his buddy) he presented me with a gift. It was in a shopping bag. A sweater (and an ugly one, at that). And there was something else...the receipt. And guess what? It was bought in another town far from his buddies.' Interestingly (coincidentally?) it was bought in the same town where his ex lived.
I was furious. I asked him to fess up about where he bought it. He didn't know that I'd seen the receipt. He swore up and down that he'd bought it in his buddy's town. Finally, I threw the receipt at him.
Egg.on.the.face.
He finally had to admit that he'd been in his ex's hometown BUT not there to see her. He was there to see his other friends from when he'd lived there years before (which is how he met her.)
I accepted that lame excuse. The me of today wants to shake the me of years ago.
I knew he'd been seeing someone else before me even while he was with his ex girlfriend. This other girl lived far away, but he said they'd hook up when she was in town. From what I understood, she was pretty out there and not afraid of a good time.
I also knew that when he worked at all these other JCPenney's stores in different cities, he'd had affairs with several women at each. Even while he was with his then girlfriend.
Ugh. There are so many things wrong with that-- I don't even know where to start.
What was wrong with me??
Pretty soon, Rob found out he was being transferred. He found another job that landed him in another city. And he asked me to move with him.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Losing My Religion
Working at Penney's was fun for me. I loved the people in my department.
I also thought Mr. Smith was pretty terrific.
He was not from the area originally and I liked that he was so different from everyone in my life up until that point. He had this air of big-city sophistication about hime. He was educated, smart, in a position of authority (okay, so that part wasn't so different from everyone else) and made me laugh. He didn't talk down to me or treat me like a little kid.
More importantly, he knew nothing about my past.
After the issue with the (in my opinion) failed church meetings, I was growing more disillusioned with church and with the people at mine specifically. I'd had bad experiences pretty much with everyone involved--who I had confided in or reached out to-- from my home church to the college staff.
I started experimenting with fashion choices that I normally would not have. My skirts got a little shorter and tighter. My hair got shorter and a little funkier. And I paid a little more attention to my makeup.
I was far from being a harlot, but this was quite the departure from the way I used to dress. Long dresses, knee length shorts, frumpy anything, etc.
I also started flirting with Mr. Smith. Or did he flirt with me first? I have no idea. I don't remember. I just know that I started looking forward to work more and more. I was disappointed when he wasn't working. I was especially disappointed when his girlfriend came to visit once.
I eyed her up and down, mentally calculating her every flaw.
Pretty soon, after a lot of flirting and conversations filled with innuendos, Mr. Smith called me into his office. He asked me if I would be interested in having "a discreet, intimate affair." Exact words.
I wanted to melt into the chair. I was both terrified and exhilirated. This man, this sophisticated, successful MAN, was interested in ME. Seriously?
I agreed.
I know, you're probably groaning and yelling at your computer screen, "NO! DON'T DO IT!"
That's the same thing that little voice in my head was screaming. Only it was so faint because I had stopped listening to it, and I was able to ignore it.
We started exactly that...a discreet, intimate affair. On the night of his 31st birthday. I was 19.
Once again, I closed my eyes and did what I wanted to anyway. Regardless of what I know to be right.
The affair went on for several months. Until I confessed everything to Doug.
He reacted in a strange way. Not like I thought he would. But then, no one was reacting like I thought they would, so I guess my radar was way off.
I continued to work at Penney's for a while. No one knew about me and Mr. Smith except Doug. He trusted me enough to continue working there.
But that was a mistake.
Things may have lulled for a while with Mr. Smith, but they never fully ended.
When Doug found out again...he made a decision. We were moving back to Arkansas.
I passed on the news to Mr. Smith (who I NEVER called by his first name, FYI. I couldn't. I think Freud would have a field day with that. ) After a tearful goodbye and exchanged mix tapes (what grade were we in anyway??) I drove away from him for what I thought was the last time, feeling like I was leaving the love of my life. You see, I had fallen madly in love with Mr. Smith...this man who I couldn't bring myself to call by his first name. I respected his authority too much to call him Rob.
Doug and I packed up (again) and drove 1000 miles. At least this time we had a nice apartment and new furniture. I was able to transfer with Penney's and he got yet another pizza delivery job.
This is what I had wanted for so long. A place of our own, not living in poverty, and steady jobs.
So was I finally happy?
I was miserable. I hated every second of it.
Rob had bought me a calling card to use so I could keep in touch. He also called me at work occasionally to see how I was doing. Those calls were my lifeline.
I told him I wouldn't be in Arkansas long. I didn't have a plan, but I knew I wasn't staying there.
I think it was only a matter of weeks before I told Doug it was over, I wanted out.
It was pretty anticlimactic. It was mutual and actually kind of friendly. We both knew it was headed that way, so it was only a matter of voicing it to each other.
So we packed BACK up...and headed back home. Only this time, we drove separately and went to different places once we got back in town. I went to stay with my parents and he went with his.
I called Rob the moment I got to my parents' house. I hadn't been able to reach him all weekend. He wasn't answering his phone.
He was surprised to hear my voice and find out I was back. For good.
I immediately drove over to his house.
It was a new start....again.
I also thought Mr. Smith was pretty terrific.
He was not from the area originally and I liked that he was so different from everyone in my life up until that point. He had this air of big-city sophistication about hime. He was educated, smart, in a position of authority (okay, so that part wasn't so different from everyone else) and made me laugh. He didn't talk down to me or treat me like a little kid.
More importantly, he knew nothing about my past.
After the issue with the (in my opinion) failed church meetings, I was growing more disillusioned with church and with the people at mine specifically. I'd had bad experiences pretty much with everyone involved--who I had confided in or reached out to-- from my home church to the college staff.
I started experimenting with fashion choices that I normally would not have. My skirts got a little shorter and tighter. My hair got shorter and a little funkier. And I paid a little more attention to my makeup.
I was far from being a harlot, but this was quite the departure from the way I used to dress. Long dresses, knee length shorts, frumpy anything, etc.
I also started flirting with Mr. Smith. Or did he flirt with me first? I have no idea. I don't remember. I just know that I started looking forward to work more and more. I was disappointed when he wasn't working. I was especially disappointed when his girlfriend came to visit once.
I eyed her up and down, mentally calculating her every flaw.
Pretty soon, after a lot of flirting and conversations filled with innuendos, Mr. Smith called me into his office. He asked me if I would be interested in having "a discreet, intimate affair." Exact words.
I wanted to melt into the chair. I was both terrified and exhilirated. This man, this sophisticated, successful MAN, was interested in ME. Seriously?
I agreed.
I know, you're probably groaning and yelling at your computer screen, "NO! DON'T DO IT!"
That's the same thing that little voice in my head was screaming. Only it was so faint because I had stopped listening to it, and I was able to ignore it.
We started exactly that...a discreet, intimate affair. On the night of his 31st birthday. I was 19.
Once again, I closed my eyes and did what I wanted to anyway. Regardless of what I know to be right.
The affair went on for several months. Until I confessed everything to Doug.
He reacted in a strange way. Not like I thought he would. But then, no one was reacting like I thought they would, so I guess my radar was way off.
I continued to work at Penney's for a while. No one knew about me and Mr. Smith except Doug. He trusted me enough to continue working there.
But that was a mistake.
Things may have lulled for a while with Mr. Smith, but they never fully ended.
When Doug found out again...he made a decision. We were moving back to Arkansas.
I passed on the news to Mr. Smith (who I NEVER called by his first name, FYI. I couldn't. I think Freud would have a field day with that. ) After a tearful goodbye and exchanged mix tapes (what grade were we in anyway??) I drove away from him for what I thought was the last time, feeling like I was leaving the love of my life. You see, I had fallen madly in love with Mr. Smith...this man who I couldn't bring myself to call by his first name. I respected his authority too much to call him Rob.
Doug and I packed up (again) and drove 1000 miles. At least this time we had a nice apartment and new furniture. I was able to transfer with Penney's and he got yet another pizza delivery job.
This is what I had wanted for so long. A place of our own, not living in poverty, and steady jobs.
So was I finally happy?
I was miserable. I hated every second of it.
Rob had bought me a calling card to use so I could keep in touch. He also called me at work occasionally to see how I was doing. Those calls were my lifeline.
I told him I wouldn't be in Arkansas long. I didn't have a plan, but I knew I wasn't staying there.
I think it was only a matter of weeks before I told Doug it was over, I wanted out.
It was pretty anticlimactic. It was mutual and actually kind of friendly. We both knew it was headed that way, so it was only a matter of voicing it to each other.
So we packed BACK up...and headed back home. Only this time, we drove separately and went to different places once we got back in town. I went to stay with my parents and he went with his.
I called Rob the moment I got to my parents' house. I hadn't been able to reach him all weekend. He wasn't answering his phone.
He was surprised to hear my voice and find out I was back. For good.
I immediately drove over to his house.
It was a new start....again.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Home Sweet Home
We moved home in the summer of 1996. Almost one year had passed since we ran away and eloped.
We set up residence in Doug's parents' house in his childhood bedroom. It's just what every new bride dreams of. I had cart blanche to decorate our "room" any way I wanted.
The positive side of all that is that we paid absolutely nothing for living there.
We both worked. I got a job at JCPenney's in the mall. I remember hating the idea of working full time. I think I was just mentally exhausted.
I remember crying before my interview because I was so sad at the idea of working full time. I wore the same oufit I'd worn to my graduation open house; a pink gingham jumper and a ribbon in my hair. I looked like I'd just stepped off Sunnybrook Farm.
The manager who interviewd me was Mr. Smith. He was a young, good looking professional. He intimidated me from the start because he wore a suit and tie and was the "boss." He seemed to like that I had worked at Shoney's and we had a ridiculously long conversation about french toast sticks.
I was hired. Just like that.
I started soon after and was put in the men's department. Which was also Mr. Smith's department. It was there I met some of the most wonderful people in the world. And some who would end up playing quite a role in my future.
It was during that time of working at Penney's that I morphed the most dramatically.
I was increasingly disillusioned with "married" life. I was sad and lonely. Doug worked late nights delivering pizza and I worked days. I hated living in his parents' house with very little privacy and feeling like a kid when I thought we were supposed to be leaving his parents and "cleaving" to one another. Doug's younger brother also lived there. We were one big happy family.
We were actually back attending the church we had attended growing up--yes, the one where Grant was the youth leader.
Pretty soon, I heard rumblings that the church was beginning to pick elders. Up for eldership? Grant.
I was stopped dead in my tracks.
I know the Bible says an elder should be a man above reproach.
I still felt off put that Grant had never had to answer for what happened between him and myself. It was still just a dirty secret swept under the rug.
I decided that I just couldn't let this happen without bringing what had happened to light.
So, I decided to confide in Doug's aunt and uncle (remember Roy and Connie?) I had grown up babysitting for them and was very close to them. Ironically, Roy was also being considered for eldership. Roy had also taught the teens for several years at the church, so I had a rapport with them.
One night I stayed late at their house to talk to them about this.
I don't even remember what I said. I was so nervous I could have thrown up. This was it.
I was finally telling someone from the church and this would change everything.
Both Roy and Connie kept asking me if I was absolutely certain about the things I told them. I reitterated over and over that I was. Even though most of the conversation is a blur, for some reason I distinctly remember Roy saying, "Okay...I'm going to bat for you, but ..." meaning if I was lying or had misunderstood the situation there would be hard feelings and consequences.
I knew I was telling the truth, so I stood firm.
There was a meeting set up with Grant and the minister, Tony.
I'm pretty sure I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
I was on pins and needles waiting to hear back from Roy.
It was decided to have a meeting including Tony, Grant & Carla, Doug and myself, and Roy & Connie.
Doug & I drove over with Roy and Connie to the church. We sat around long tables and talked about things that were so mortifying to me. I had to rehash certain instances and details that I couldn't even think about privately, let alone speak in front of a group of authority figures, and him. I think there may have even been more than one meeting.
I don't have any definite recollection of the words spoken.
I do know that Tony said I needed to forgive Grant. I do remember very clearly feeling like I was backed in a corner and said, "I will forgive him."
Okay. Great. Grant was still in the running for elder and it was all okay now. Everyone packed up and went their separate ways.
The next day Doug and I met with Tony. I was unsettled at how things turned out. Tony said, "But last night you said that you forgave Grant." I explained that what I had actually said was that I WILL forgive him because I knew in time I would, but I didn't feel it in my heart then. Tony laughed a little laugh and said, "Oh, that's very misleading." Which was a verbal finger wagging, "shame on you."
And then he explained how he felt that it was a situation of a young girl with a crush and a case of unrequieted feelings.
So there it was. Once again...it's my fault. I was deflated.
Why couldn't I get it through my head that it was my fault? Everyone kept telling me that.
I left that meeting feeling no better.
That night, Doug told me that if there were going to be any more meetings, he wasn't going because they were too hard for him.
Yeah. Chew on that.
We set up residence in Doug's parents' house in his childhood bedroom. It's just what every new bride dreams of. I had cart blanche to decorate our "room" any way I wanted.
The positive side of all that is that we paid absolutely nothing for living there.
We both worked. I got a job at JCPenney's in the mall. I remember hating the idea of working full time. I think I was just mentally exhausted.
I remember crying before my interview because I was so sad at the idea of working full time. I wore the same oufit I'd worn to my graduation open house; a pink gingham jumper and a ribbon in my hair. I looked like I'd just stepped off Sunnybrook Farm.
The manager who interviewd me was Mr. Smith. He was a young, good looking professional. He intimidated me from the start because he wore a suit and tie and was the "boss." He seemed to like that I had worked at Shoney's and we had a ridiculously long conversation about french toast sticks.
I was hired. Just like that.
I started soon after and was put in the men's department. Which was also Mr. Smith's department. It was there I met some of the most wonderful people in the world. And some who would end up playing quite a role in my future.
It was during that time of working at Penney's that I morphed the most dramatically.
I was increasingly disillusioned with "married" life. I was sad and lonely. Doug worked late nights delivering pizza and I worked days. I hated living in his parents' house with very little privacy and feeling like a kid when I thought we were supposed to be leaving his parents and "cleaving" to one another. Doug's younger brother also lived there. We were one big happy family.
We were actually back attending the church we had attended growing up--yes, the one where Grant was the youth leader.
Pretty soon, I heard rumblings that the church was beginning to pick elders. Up for eldership? Grant.
I was stopped dead in my tracks.
I know the Bible says an elder should be a man above reproach.
I still felt off put that Grant had never had to answer for what happened between him and myself. It was still just a dirty secret swept under the rug.
I decided that I just couldn't let this happen without bringing what had happened to light.
So, I decided to confide in Doug's aunt and uncle (remember Roy and Connie?) I had grown up babysitting for them and was very close to them. Ironically, Roy was also being considered for eldership. Roy had also taught the teens for several years at the church, so I had a rapport with them.
One night I stayed late at their house to talk to them about this.
I don't even remember what I said. I was so nervous I could have thrown up. This was it.
I was finally telling someone from the church and this would change everything.
Both Roy and Connie kept asking me if I was absolutely certain about the things I told them. I reitterated over and over that I was. Even though most of the conversation is a blur, for some reason I distinctly remember Roy saying, "Okay...I'm going to bat for you, but ..." meaning if I was lying or had misunderstood the situation there would be hard feelings and consequences.
I knew I was telling the truth, so I stood firm.
There was a meeting set up with Grant and the minister, Tony.
I'm pretty sure I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
I was on pins and needles waiting to hear back from Roy.
It was decided to have a meeting including Tony, Grant & Carla, Doug and myself, and Roy & Connie.
Doug & I drove over with Roy and Connie to the church. We sat around long tables and talked about things that were so mortifying to me. I had to rehash certain instances and details that I couldn't even think about privately, let alone speak in front of a group of authority figures, and him. I think there may have even been more than one meeting.
I don't have any definite recollection of the words spoken.
I do know that Tony said I needed to forgive Grant. I do remember very clearly feeling like I was backed in a corner and said, "I will forgive him."
Okay. Great. Grant was still in the running for elder and it was all okay now. Everyone packed up and went their separate ways.
The next day Doug and I met with Tony. I was unsettled at how things turned out. Tony said, "But last night you said that you forgave Grant." I explained that what I had actually said was that I WILL forgive him because I knew in time I would, but I didn't feel it in my heart then. Tony laughed a little laugh and said, "Oh, that's very misleading." Which was a verbal finger wagging, "shame on you."
And then he explained how he felt that it was a situation of a young girl with a crush and a case of unrequieted feelings.
So there it was. Once again...it's my fault. I was deflated.
Why couldn't I get it through my head that it was my fault? Everyone kept telling me that.
I left that meeting feeling no better.
That night, Doug told me that if there were going to be any more meetings, he wasn't going because they were too hard for him.
Yeah. Chew on that.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Little Girl Lost
Things weren't all doom and gloom in Arkansas. I mean, they were incredibly depressing at first. But we did have some good times. Of course, I'm focusing on the crappy parts here, but know that not everything was sorrow.
And speaking of sorrow...I want to back up a bit...when word got out that we had run away with plans to elope, all hell broke loose back home.
Because Grant was prominent in the church and extremely upset that I would do something like that without his knowing, let alone without his permission, he was livid. He took it upon himself to stand before the church and tell everyone, in a carefully worded announcement, that Doug and I were "together living in Arkansas." Of course, premarital shacking was frowned upon, so that sent the church into quite a tizzy.
Poor Doug's mom attended the church. She was and is a very sweet woman with a tender heart and a quiet spirit. Needless to say, she was humiliated.
My sister (still close with Doug & Carla at the time) was beyond furious. If she had been able, she would have jumped on the first flight to Arkansas and dragged me back by my hair.
Because I anticipated this very heated response, we were only in contact with certain people. My parents and Doug's parents. And this was before the day of cell phones, so we could only keep in touch by using payphones.
The first time I finally spoke with my sister on the phone, the conversation consisted of her screaming at me and crying for about 30 minutes. I hated it. Every second of it. And I couldn't even truthfully be indignant because I was doing exactly what I was being accused of: living in sin.
I think everyone had a different reason for reacting the way they did. My sister loved me tremendously. She was always like a second mom to me and as such, felt responsible for me in many ways. Plus, I was the first person in my immediate family to have plans to go to college directly out of high school. I was slated to be the first to receive a degree and that was big stuff.
Something that my sister Missy said once still sticks in my mind...she told me once, while I was in high school, something like, "I love your little life." I guess even to her, things looked good on the outside. Of course, she had no idea about Grant.
Grant & Carla, naturally, felt invested in my future as well since they had taken on the brunt of my teenage years and had contributed to me scholastically and financially. Unfortunately, they had also contributed enormously to the reason I wanted to run away from that town. Don't misread that as me passing the buck for my actions. They certainly did not make sneak out of my house and get pregnant as a teenager, but I know what happened between us and the pressure to carry that secret--and a lion's share of the blame--was a huge motivating factor in my getting involved with Doug in the first place.
I also think that Grant could have been worried knowing that there was only one person I said I would tell about the "secret." Do you remember?
My future husband.
And now that "future" husband had a name and was very much in my present. But....he was also very far away from Grant and Grant's influence. I don't think that sat very well with Grant. I think that could be one reason why he worked so hard to discredit me.
But that's all my supposition.
A few months after moving, we made it back home for a visit. Doug's aunt Connie set up a reception of sorts at church for us to celebrate our wedding. It was a very nice gesture and everyone was very welcoming.
Until Grant and Carla cornered me alone in the pastor's office. I don't even remember the entire conversation or why they wanted to talk to me--except that they were still very unhappy. I do remember saying, "Grant, you would never have allowed anyone to speak with Carla alone without you." I know that to be true, but I think this was just his way of not acknowledging that I was now an adult in an adult relationship. He wanted me to know that I was still an underling to him. Now, that's more of my supposition. Obviously, I can't be sure that's how he felt. Maybe my thoughts are a little too biased.
Eventually, as with all scandals, things died down and Doug and I started school.
It was exciting. I was actually in college. We both worked part time. I was no longer at Wal Mart. I was a hostess at a little Southern chain called Shoney's. Doug went through a few jobs: pizza delivery for a couple of places, Sherwin Williams Paints, and an office supply store.
I finished a semester of school-always feeling like an outsider because I was married at 18 and lived off campus. Then, I decided to quit school and work full time to support Doug getting his degree since he was further along than I was.
I was struggling quite a bit with coming to terms with all that had happened in such a short period of time. I was still hanging on to the guilt and shame of what happened with Grant, the guilt and shame of having a miscarriage, and obsessing over my friend Tess. I was still jealous. I fixated on her because, to me, she had the ideal life. I wanted that life. And all the plans and dreams I had went up in smoke in a matter of months.
I was overwhelmed with guilt that I somehow caused the miscarriage. I thought that, because I wished I hadn't gotten pregnant, those negative thoughts somehow manifested a miscarriage. I thought the baby knew I didn't want it and that's why it died. And although now I know that's absolutely not true, I still get a little emotional thinking about it.
I will say this, Doug was very kind to me and told me he didn't believe that either. It was the kindest I think he'd ever been to me.
I decided it was time to get some outside help. I'd confided everything to Doug, but he was a 20 year old guy. What help was he possibly going to offer me? And I think I totally discount that he had just lost a child too. He had his own stuff to work through. But being a guy, he compartmentalized it all. And played lots of video games.
I sought out one of the college's counselors. Miss Mackey. I don't mind using her real name. She was 100 years old way back then, so I'm pretty sure she's dead now.
I laid it all out. It was start and stop because I was so embarrassed and had never confided this in another adult before-especially a southern, God fearing, legalistic fundamentalist like Miss Mackey.
She listened to everything. I told about Grant first. Then I moved on to talk about my obsession with Tess and how I couldn't seem to get past her relationship with Doug. I was still jealous of how long they had dated and how close they'd been.
Do you know what she said to me?
She said that I should stop being upset about Doug and Tess.
Yeah, okay. I agree. I'm listening...
Then, she added, "Doug could be doing the same thing to you. He could be upset about the things you did with Grant like you're upset with what he and Tess did.
I'm sorry, you lost me.
Did you just say that Doug could be jealous of my "relationship" with a 31 year old authority figure in my life who, I feel, took advantage of me and my loyalties and compare tha with his teenage romance with Tess??
K. Thanks. Buh-bye.
At the time, I couldn't wrap my mind around just how ludicrous that was and how I should have ripped out her blue hair right then and there for being so inadequately and horribly suited for that position. How many other students came to her with traumatic experiences and she wrote them off as childhood/teenage angst? If I didn't think she was probably already dead, I would contact the school about her outlandish "counseling." I went to her seeking comfort and guidance. I left feeling even more guilt and shame. So far, the "Church" wasn't doing so well according to my mental score keeping.
We lived in Arkansas for a year before deciding to head back home. I was mixed. I was so excited to be back in a familiar setting with friends and family, but also very scared. It was, after all, the setting of so many other emotional events.
And speaking of sorrow...I want to back up a bit...when word got out that we had run away with plans to elope, all hell broke loose back home.
Because Grant was prominent in the church and extremely upset that I would do something like that without his knowing, let alone without his permission, he was livid. He took it upon himself to stand before the church and tell everyone, in a carefully worded announcement, that Doug and I were "together living in Arkansas." Of course, premarital shacking was frowned upon, so that sent the church into quite a tizzy.
Poor Doug's mom attended the church. She was and is a very sweet woman with a tender heart and a quiet spirit. Needless to say, she was humiliated.
My sister (still close with Doug & Carla at the time) was beyond furious. If she had been able, she would have jumped on the first flight to Arkansas and dragged me back by my hair.
Because I anticipated this very heated response, we were only in contact with certain people. My parents and Doug's parents. And this was before the day of cell phones, so we could only keep in touch by using payphones.
The first time I finally spoke with my sister on the phone, the conversation consisted of her screaming at me and crying for about 30 minutes. I hated it. Every second of it. And I couldn't even truthfully be indignant because I was doing exactly what I was being accused of: living in sin.
I think everyone had a different reason for reacting the way they did. My sister loved me tremendously. She was always like a second mom to me and as such, felt responsible for me in many ways. Plus, I was the first person in my immediate family to have plans to go to college directly out of high school. I was slated to be the first to receive a degree and that was big stuff.
Something that my sister Missy said once still sticks in my mind...she told me once, while I was in high school, something like, "I love your little life." I guess even to her, things looked good on the outside. Of course, she had no idea about Grant.
Grant & Carla, naturally, felt invested in my future as well since they had taken on the brunt of my teenage years and had contributed to me scholastically and financially. Unfortunately, they had also contributed enormously to the reason I wanted to run away from that town. Don't misread that as me passing the buck for my actions. They certainly did not make sneak out of my house and get pregnant as a teenager, but I know what happened between us and the pressure to carry that secret--and a lion's share of the blame--was a huge motivating factor in my getting involved with Doug in the first place.
I also think that Grant could have been worried knowing that there was only one person I said I would tell about the "secret." Do you remember?
My future husband.
And now that "future" husband had a name and was very much in my present. But....he was also very far away from Grant and Grant's influence. I don't think that sat very well with Grant. I think that could be one reason why he worked so hard to discredit me.
But that's all my supposition.
A few months after moving, we made it back home for a visit. Doug's aunt Connie set up a reception of sorts at church for us to celebrate our wedding. It was a very nice gesture and everyone was very welcoming.
Until Grant and Carla cornered me alone in the pastor's office. I don't even remember the entire conversation or why they wanted to talk to me--except that they were still very unhappy. I do remember saying, "Grant, you would never have allowed anyone to speak with Carla alone without you." I know that to be true, but I think this was just his way of not acknowledging that I was now an adult in an adult relationship. He wanted me to know that I was still an underling to him. Now, that's more of my supposition. Obviously, I can't be sure that's how he felt. Maybe my thoughts are a little too biased.
Eventually, as with all scandals, things died down and Doug and I started school.
It was exciting. I was actually in college. We both worked part time. I was no longer at Wal Mart. I was a hostess at a little Southern chain called Shoney's. Doug went through a few jobs: pizza delivery for a couple of places, Sherwin Williams Paints, and an office supply store.
I finished a semester of school-always feeling like an outsider because I was married at 18 and lived off campus. Then, I decided to quit school and work full time to support Doug getting his degree since he was further along than I was.
I was struggling quite a bit with coming to terms with all that had happened in such a short period of time. I was still hanging on to the guilt and shame of what happened with Grant, the guilt and shame of having a miscarriage, and obsessing over my friend Tess. I was still jealous. I fixated on her because, to me, she had the ideal life. I wanted that life. And all the plans and dreams I had went up in smoke in a matter of months.
I was overwhelmed with guilt that I somehow caused the miscarriage. I thought that, because I wished I hadn't gotten pregnant, those negative thoughts somehow manifested a miscarriage. I thought the baby knew I didn't want it and that's why it died. And although now I know that's absolutely not true, I still get a little emotional thinking about it.
I will say this, Doug was very kind to me and told me he didn't believe that either. It was the kindest I think he'd ever been to me.
I decided it was time to get some outside help. I'd confided everything to Doug, but he was a 20 year old guy. What help was he possibly going to offer me? And I think I totally discount that he had just lost a child too. He had his own stuff to work through. But being a guy, he compartmentalized it all. And played lots of video games.
I sought out one of the college's counselors. Miss Mackey. I don't mind using her real name. She was 100 years old way back then, so I'm pretty sure she's dead now.
I laid it all out. It was start and stop because I was so embarrassed and had never confided this in another adult before-especially a southern, God fearing, legalistic fundamentalist like Miss Mackey.
She listened to everything. I told about Grant first. Then I moved on to talk about my obsession with Tess and how I couldn't seem to get past her relationship with Doug. I was still jealous of how long they had dated and how close they'd been.
Do you know what she said to me?
She said that I should stop being upset about Doug and Tess.
Yeah, okay. I agree. I'm listening...
Then, she added, "Doug could be doing the same thing to you. He could be upset about the things you did with Grant like you're upset with what he and Tess did.
I'm sorry, you lost me.
Did you just say that Doug could be jealous of my "relationship" with a 31 year old authority figure in my life who, I feel, took advantage of me and my loyalties and compare tha with his teenage romance with Tess??
K. Thanks. Buh-bye.
At the time, I couldn't wrap my mind around just how ludicrous that was and how I should have ripped out her blue hair right then and there for being so inadequately and horribly suited for that position. How many other students came to her with traumatic experiences and she wrote them off as childhood/teenage angst? If I didn't think she was probably already dead, I would contact the school about her outlandish "counseling." I went to her seeking comfort and guidance. I left feeling even more guilt and shame. So far, the "Church" wasn't doing so well according to my mental score keeping.
We lived in Arkansas for a year before deciding to head back home. I was mixed. I was so excited to be back in a familiar setting with friends and family, but also very scared. It was, after all, the setting of so many other emotional events.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Out of the Pan and Into the Fire
The year I turned 17 felt miraculous. For some reason, 17 felt so much older than 16. It was senior year and I felt like so many things were finally going right.
I was still in contact with Carla & Grant, but it was strained. I was still having difficulty making decisions that I knew would go against them and their wishes. From simple things like what I would wear to heavier things like dating and how far is "too far." I can't even remember what all I had trouble deciding, but I just know I held them STILL in such high regard that I couldn't go against anything they had taught me.
I think--if I can wax philosophical for a minute--that I was so starved for someone to love me since I just had my heart ripped out, that in walked Doug-a great guy who I knew from church and had known as a friend first--and I fell head over heels in an effort to fill the hole that was now in my heart.
I was smarting against a lot of things: specifically Grant, but I was also suddenly questioning the foundation of what I had been taught the past several years. I didn't blame God. I don't think I was angry with Him either. But I was more wounded and confused and...annoyed.
I just let loose.
August is when we always went to camp. Doug and I went as usual. This time as a couple.
Everything was going along swimmingly...until I realized I was late.
And I don't mean late to dinner.
I must have gone to the bathroom 800 times that week.
Nothing.
Of course, we panicked. That week was hardly spent communing with nature and singing camp songs. Instead, we planned how we were going to run away and get married.
I had been accepted to a prestigious Christian college and was due to leave in a couple of weeks.
I knew I couldn't go because once the school found out I was pregnant, I would be sent home immediately. And have a lot of explaining to do.
So, we hastily discussed how we would run away.
In was the weeks after camp that we spent fine tuning our plan. It was all so surreal.
We decided that we would run away to Tennessee, elope, and then move to Arkansas where we could both go to school (the same school Doug had gone to previously).
We both wrote notes to our families. Explaining how we had decided to leave and get married. I even went so far as to say that I was NOT pregnant since that's what everyone would automatically (and rightfully) jump to the conclusion of.
I was more scared of telling my family that I was no longer a virgin that I was of moving 1000 miles away with this boy and living a new, strange life. You see, sex before marriage was likend to killing someone in my teenage mind.
I think we thought that we could just let everyone believe that we got pregnant the microsecond after we married and that would explain the timing.
There was a bonfire planned for us and some friends (Katherine included) at Doug's aunt and uncle's house. I was very close to his aunt and uncle (Roy & Connie). The day of the bonfire, I told my mom that we were moving away. She said, "So are you going to shack up?" Blunt. Just like that.
I did what was becoming so natural...I lied.
"Of course not. We'll be staying with Doug's friends until after we get married..."
We told Katherine the day we were leaving. She was sad. I lied through my teeth to her too. She didn't want us to go, but we felt like we had no alternative.
NOW...at 34...I can see SO MANY alternatives. But being 17 and scared to death because, as a teen active in church, I had pre-marital sex, I truly felt horrified at the idea of admitting to people that I was sexually active.
So we set out. In the world's smallest car. I packed 2 suitcases and that was it.
We drove until about Memphis, I think and stayed in a hotel. Some seedy, run down wood paneling hotel.
The next day we rolled into Arkansas and sat at a McDonalds with a newspaper looking for jobs. We had about $1000 to our names, the clothes in our suitcases, and the clown car.
Luckily (?) we were so naive and stupid we didn't fully realize just how ridiculous and dangerous that was.
We ended up finding a trailor to rent. (Yes, another trailer in my life). It was a 2 bedroom number off campus.
I got a job at Wal Mart making $5 an hour and served as the bread winner. Doug got a job delivering pizzas and we both registered for school.
I was miserable. I was homesick and lonely because Doug ended up spending a lot of time with his college friends (from before), playing basketball and I stayed at home since I didn't know any of them. We didn't have cable or a phone.
I was freaked out about being pegnant, since I had never experienced that before and had absolutely no one to talk to about it. You see, this college town goes beyond conservative. They are right smack in the middle of the Bible belt. If I were even to confide in anyone about our situation, we would be scourged.
Doug kept saying he wished that it would "all just go away." He used to say all the time, "Can't you just take a pill?" I don't think he was referring to something like RU486 or whatever, since I'm pretty sure that didn't really exist back then. But he did just want to be done with the whole thing.
We eventually came around to the subject of adoption. I could not imagine giving up my baby to strangers, but I was also terrified of the alternative (actually raising a child when I was a child myself) and abortion was absolutely out of the question.
I started feeling sick. I just didn't feel right. At about 10 or 11 weeks I started spotting.
I called the nurse at the OB office I had just started going to (where they confirmed that I was indeed pregnant) and the nurse asked me all kinds of questions about color, texture, etc etc and told me to just "watch it."
I was so afraid. My sister had a history of miscarriages and I was so scared that was what was happening to me. I felt helpless just staying home. I kept telling Doug that I wanted to go to the doctor. He kept discouraging me (why I don't know.)
This nurse who told me to "watch it" was also the one who spoke with me about adoption at my first appointment. She said she had a family who she thought would be interested, but she needed my decision soon.
I couldn't give her a straight answer. I just couldn't commit to anything, and there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I wouldn't have to make a decision.
The nurse called me at work one day to ask me if I had given it anymore thought. I remember very clearly taking the call in the break room. I stumbled over my words telling her how I just hadn't made a decision yet.
I can't believe she called me at work. That didn't even upset me until just this very moment as I remember. Talk about being forward and pushy.
All this time I continued to work. I stocked shelves at Wal Mart. It was strenuous labor and involved a lot of lifting and hauling. Naturally, that made me bleed heavier. Finally, one day at work, I bled so heavily that I left work early and raced home. I remember running in the front door and seeing Doug sitting on the couch. He was obviously surprised to see me home early. I dropped my weight belt (that you have to wear for proper back support while lifting) and ran to the bathroom yelling, "NOW will you take me to the hospital?!" Doug's eyes were as big as silver dollars.
I explained that I was bleeding badly, so we headed to the ER.
That was one of the most humiliating experiences in my life.
As a barely 18 year old girl, I had never before been to a gynecologist. When I got to the ER, I had to explain what happened to the nurses at the ER desk. Then, one of them took me into a room and had me strip down and put a gown on.
I laid on the table for eternity. The nurse asked me if I wanted her to go get my husband. I said yes. She brought Doug in a few minutes later. He was visibly uncomfortable. He fidgeted the entire time. Finally, I said, "Would you rather wait in the waiting room?" And I barely had the entire sentence out when he blurted, "yes!" And out he went.
I cramped while I waited for the doctor. He finally came in and did the exam. It was humiliating,
Finally, they let me go home.
I laid on the bed in the back bedroom of our trailer and thought I was dying. The cramping (which I now know is contractions) was the most painful thing ever. I couldn't talk, but I remember clearly hoping Doug would come in the room and check on me because I figured that was the last time he would see me alive.
Some undetermined time later, the cramping ended and I was able to breathe again. The bleeding went on for awhile after that. And we tried to go on with our lives and act normal--whatever that was.
I was still in contact with Carla & Grant, but it was strained. I was still having difficulty making decisions that I knew would go against them and their wishes. From simple things like what I would wear to heavier things like dating and how far is "too far." I can't even remember what all I had trouble deciding, but I just know I held them STILL in such high regard that I couldn't go against anything they had taught me.
I think--if I can wax philosophical for a minute--that I was so starved for someone to love me since I just had my heart ripped out, that in walked Doug-a great guy who I knew from church and had known as a friend first--and I fell head over heels in an effort to fill the hole that was now in my heart.
I was smarting against a lot of things: specifically Grant, but I was also suddenly questioning the foundation of what I had been taught the past several years. I didn't blame God. I don't think I was angry with Him either. But I was more wounded and confused and...annoyed.
I just let loose.
August is when we always went to camp. Doug and I went as usual. This time as a couple.
Everything was going along swimmingly...until I realized I was late.
And I don't mean late to dinner.
I must have gone to the bathroom 800 times that week.
Nothing.
Of course, we panicked. That week was hardly spent communing with nature and singing camp songs. Instead, we planned how we were going to run away and get married.
I had been accepted to a prestigious Christian college and was due to leave in a couple of weeks.
I knew I couldn't go because once the school found out I was pregnant, I would be sent home immediately. And have a lot of explaining to do.
So, we hastily discussed how we would run away.
In was the weeks after camp that we spent fine tuning our plan. It was all so surreal.
We decided that we would run away to Tennessee, elope, and then move to Arkansas where we could both go to school (the same school Doug had gone to previously).
We both wrote notes to our families. Explaining how we had decided to leave and get married. I even went so far as to say that I was NOT pregnant since that's what everyone would automatically (and rightfully) jump to the conclusion of.
I was more scared of telling my family that I was no longer a virgin that I was of moving 1000 miles away with this boy and living a new, strange life. You see, sex before marriage was likend to killing someone in my teenage mind.
I think we thought that we could just let everyone believe that we got pregnant the microsecond after we married and that would explain the timing.
There was a bonfire planned for us and some friends (Katherine included) at Doug's aunt and uncle's house. I was very close to his aunt and uncle (Roy & Connie). The day of the bonfire, I told my mom that we were moving away. She said, "So are you going to shack up?" Blunt. Just like that.
I did what was becoming so natural...I lied.
"Of course not. We'll be staying with Doug's friends until after we get married..."
We told Katherine the day we were leaving. She was sad. I lied through my teeth to her too. She didn't want us to go, but we felt like we had no alternative.
NOW...at 34...I can see SO MANY alternatives. But being 17 and scared to death because, as a teen active in church, I had pre-marital sex, I truly felt horrified at the idea of admitting to people that I was sexually active.
So we set out. In the world's smallest car. I packed 2 suitcases and that was it.
We drove until about Memphis, I think and stayed in a hotel. Some seedy, run down wood paneling hotel.
The next day we rolled into Arkansas and sat at a McDonalds with a newspaper looking for jobs. We had about $1000 to our names, the clothes in our suitcases, and the clown car.
Luckily (?) we were so naive and stupid we didn't fully realize just how ridiculous and dangerous that was.
We ended up finding a trailor to rent. (Yes, another trailer in my life). It was a 2 bedroom number off campus.
I got a job at Wal Mart making $5 an hour and served as the bread winner. Doug got a job delivering pizzas and we both registered for school.
I was miserable. I was homesick and lonely because Doug ended up spending a lot of time with his college friends (from before), playing basketball and I stayed at home since I didn't know any of them. We didn't have cable or a phone.
I was freaked out about being pegnant, since I had never experienced that before and had absolutely no one to talk to about it. You see, this college town goes beyond conservative. They are right smack in the middle of the Bible belt. If I were even to confide in anyone about our situation, we would be scourged.
Doug kept saying he wished that it would "all just go away." He used to say all the time, "Can't you just take a pill?" I don't think he was referring to something like RU486 or whatever, since I'm pretty sure that didn't really exist back then. But he did just want to be done with the whole thing.
We eventually came around to the subject of adoption. I could not imagine giving up my baby to strangers, but I was also terrified of the alternative (actually raising a child when I was a child myself) and abortion was absolutely out of the question.
I started feeling sick. I just didn't feel right. At about 10 or 11 weeks I started spotting.
I called the nurse at the OB office I had just started going to (where they confirmed that I was indeed pregnant) and the nurse asked me all kinds of questions about color, texture, etc etc and told me to just "watch it."
I was so afraid. My sister had a history of miscarriages and I was so scared that was what was happening to me. I felt helpless just staying home. I kept telling Doug that I wanted to go to the doctor. He kept discouraging me (why I don't know.)
This nurse who told me to "watch it" was also the one who spoke with me about adoption at my first appointment. She said she had a family who she thought would be interested, but she needed my decision soon.
I couldn't give her a straight answer. I just couldn't commit to anything, and there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I wouldn't have to make a decision.
The nurse called me at work one day to ask me if I had given it anymore thought. I remember very clearly taking the call in the break room. I stumbled over my words telling her how I just hadn't made a decision yet.
I can't believe she called me at work. That didn't even upset me until just this very moment as I remember. Talk about being forward and pushy.
All this time I continued to work. I stocked shelves at Wal Mart. It was strenuous labor and involved a lot of lifting and hauling. Naturally, that made me bleed heavier. Finally, one day at work, I bled so heavily that I left work early and raced home. I remember running in the front door and seeing Doug sitting on the couch. He was obviously surprised to see me home early. I dropped my weight belt (that you have to wear for proper back support while lifting) and ran to the bathroom yelling, "NOW will you take me to the hospital?!" Doug's eyes were as big as silver dollars.
I explained that I was bleeding badly, so we headed to the ER.
That was one of the most humiliating experiences in my life.
As a barely 18 year old girl, I had never before been to a gynecologist. When I got to the ER, I had to explain what happened to the nurses at the ER desk. Then, one of them took me into a room and had me strip down and put a gown on.
I laid on the table for eternity. The nurse asked me if I wanted her to go get my husband. I said yes. She brought Doug in a few minutes later. He was visibly uncomfortable. He fidgeted the entire time. Finally, I said, "Would you rather wait in the waiting room?" And I barely had the entire sentence out when he blurted, "yes!" And out he went.
I cramped while I waited for the doctor. He finally came in and did the exam. It was humiliating,
Finally, they let me go home.
I laid on the bed in the back bedroom of our trailer and thought I was dying. The cramping (which I now know is contractions) was the most painful thing ever. I couldn't talk, but I remember clearly hoping Doug would come in the room and check on me because I figured that was the last time he would see me alive.
Some undetermined time later, the cramping ended and I was able to breathe again. The bleeding went on for awhile after that. And we tried to go on with our lives and act normal--whatever that was.
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