-
Over_And_done
I can't believe the number of women on here who've gone through a similar thing as me, holy shit.
Met my husband when I was 19 after two emotionally abusive relationships. I wasn't strong enough to say no and strung him along through dating, buying a house, marriage and two kids. For almost 13 years. I put his needs before mine and worried that I would hurt everyone else by thinking about myself.
The anger and resentment has built up over the years because not only have I never been attracted to him, he isn't a partner. He never helped around the house unless I practically begged him. He never thought of anything other than eating, sitting on his computer and watching TV. I was basically a stand in for his mother as I picked up his messes (enabling, I know that now), nagged him and wished every single day that he would get it. Get what being an adult meant.
The thought of having sex with him physically repulsed me and nearly sent me into a panic attack. I put up with it for years and only gave in because of the week or so of freedom I'd get after.
As the years have gone by, I've grown stronger and stronger in how much I tell him but he still didn't get it. I told him I wasn't attracted to him. I told him he wasn't a partner. I told him I thought of him as nothing but a friend.
It finally hit me at a therapist appointment when she was talking to me about "rebuilding" our foundation. I kinda sat there and thought, "What foundation? We never had one." As I told her this, she looked at me like I was crazy for still being with him. Not in a judgy way, but more like a "You need to really think about this" kind of way.
A week later, after he begged me to kiss him and I refused, he got snippy with me and said "I'm just a paycheque around here." That was it. He was 100% right. Added in with what I'd been talking about at therapy, I was done. I'd already been dreaming about leaving him for years but was too scared (the age old staying for the kids nonsense). I've been emotionally done with him for years, but kept convincing myself that I could live in a loveless marriage, at least until the kids were older.
Not any more. I'm done with putting myself last. Done with pretending that I care. I feel guilty that he's the one that has to start again (house-wise, anyway) but I refuse to be my parents. They barely tolerated each other growing up and it affected me deeply. No doubt that's why I was so weak. I learned it from my Mother.
I apologize for the fragmented thoughts. I'm sure I left out half the story but it feels so good to just get it out there. It's going to be a long hard road, but I already know I've made the right decision because I am so relieved. I am so glad that I only have to worry about myself and my kids.