I Won

A few weeks ago, I put my story into words once again. I actually like how, each time I write it out, it sounds a little differently than the last time. I like that it captures different parts of the struggle and beauty from the past ten + years.

I entered my story into a Mother's Day contest and last night, I found out I won.

And so, I wanted to share this version here to have it saved.

Hi. 

My name is Wendy and although I am many things, warrior is certainly at the top of that list. 

I was a fairytale lover --- boy-obsessed from 1^st grade until I graduated from high school. Fairytales taught me that I needed a man to take care of me and I believed from a young age that if I was loved by a man, I would have infinite worth.

I was married at the age of 19 to a man who loved me. And the thing is, he truly did love me. That part was not a lie. But he loved me conditionally. He loved me for certain parts of who I was and began to tear down the parts of me he didn’t like.

Early on in our marriage (and unknown to me until after our divorce), my husband was viewing pornography and taking intimacy outside our marriage. I became a pawn in our marriage and learned that I was not the most important thing to him. But why? I couldn’t figure out what was more important.  I just knew things had shifted. He hardly ever wanted to be intimate with me and would stay up all night playing video games, claiming he had insomnia. I got used to marriage feeling mostly one-sided and found myself justifying the way he was treating me --- because at least he wasn’t physically abusing me. But I still wondered if the shift in our marriage was my fault.

I had given this man two beautiful children --- was it my body? Was I not sexy enough anymore?

For a girl who claimed to be strong and independent, I am surprised when I look back and realize how much I lost myself in my marriage. Then again, for a girl who claimed to be strong and independent, I had held the belief that my worth was dependent on a man for as long as I can remember.

Five years into my marriage, I was arguing with my husband one day when he told me he no longer believed in God and would not be attending church with us any longer. This shook me but I held my ground and poured myself into being a better wife and mother. I could fix this. I could mend this part of our world that felt bruised and broken. I felt our marriage falling apart but I wasn’t going to let it. I needed him and I felt he needed me too.

I found myself drowning while trying to save him. Often times, he came home from work angry and unresponsive and he would lock himself in our room or go outside to clean his guns or work on the car he was fixing up. The emotional abuse was weighing me down and I started to have panic attacks about seemingly normal things like what brand of food to buy.

And in the midst of me trying so hard to fix us, he abandoned our family in August of 2013, after seven years of marriage. Our children were only 5 and 4 years old and did not understand what was happening, so on top of being abandoned by my husband, I was left to tell my kids about the divorce by myself and deal with their heartache. And in turn, they knew I was their safe space and so they directed all of their anger toward me for months while begging me to bring their daddy back home. 

Throughout the 6 month process of separation and divorce, I found out that my husband was not the man he had claimed to be. He was addicted to pornography and was secretly numbing his feelings of guilt with alcohol. I tried so hard to stay afloat throughout this time but I began to drown in the form of an eating disorder and severe anxiety.

I felt so worthless. So used. So unloved.

And the thing is, my ex-husband is not a monster. We don’t always get along and he certainly makes some poor choices when it comes to his treatment of myself and our children but he isn’t a monster. He is an addict that struggles with knowing how to treat the people he loves most. He pushes us away in fear of us rejecting him. Does that lessen my pain? No. But it helps me to understand that I was not the problem. I could not have been prettier, smarter, or more subservient. This battle wasn’t mine to win or lose. It was, and is, his battle to fight and he chose to fight it without me by his side.

I’ve endured a lot since my divorce 4 ½ years ago. My ex-husband has crossed the line between discipline and abuse with our children. He has continued to treat me in a way that is disrespectful but about once a year for the first three years of divorce, he would come to me and tell me he loved me and wanted me back. He got remarried last year and immediately served me court papers for half custody, a battle that ultimately went to trial and ended up in my favor (and what is best for our children). He is there for us when it is convenient but the truth is, I am ok with that. Because I’ve got this.

I was forced to find myself when my husband abandoned me. That event, although extremely traumatic for me, has shaped me into a person that I very much like. I did not curl up in a corner and die --- I fought for myself and my children. I graduated from Arizona State University with a bachelor’s degree last summer. I am working two jobs to provide for my children. I got certified as a foster parent and was the mother of a sweet and sassy toddler for five months last year and last week, I was asked to take in a two-day-old baby boy and have been killin’ it in the motherhood department. My children are healthy and loved.

I still struggle with loneliness, especially when my kids go to their dad’s house but I know that my worth is not dependent on others. I will still live a beautiful life, even if I never remarry. I will continue to persevere when life slaps me in the face because I know for a fact that I can do hard things. 

I Can Fly

I'm ready to fly.

 

My house is clean today.

I didn't go to school yesterday or work today because I've been sick.

Peter was here this morning for an hour before he took our son on his preschool fieldtrip. The three of us were playing catch together, laughing together, and it felt like we were a connected family again.

Did I mention my entire house is clean?

 

I just feel like I am able to breathe today. I'm able to be sick and not feel guilty that I'm not getting off the couch and doing something productive. I feel like I'm able to relax.

 

And it feels so damn good.

 

I've watched 10 episodes of Shark Tank since last night.

 

Lately I've been going back and forth about whether I would ever allow Peter to come back into my life as my eternal partner. It's a huge choice. I was actually leaning toward giving it a try. But then last night, I was cleaning out my closet and went through a lot of our wedding stuff when I found my wedding journal.

 

In that journal, it held a lot of emotional, painful times from the first few MONTHS of our marriage. Each time I would write in my journal, I would end the entry with something along these lines. "I wish there was something I could do for him. It's a good thing I love him because it's easy to forgive him."

And here's the thing...the longer we were married, the harder it was to forgive and forget each time he hurt me.

The longer we were married, the less optimistic those journal entries became.

 

It was hard to read my journal and then consider trusting Peter and the changes he claims he is making.

 

I don't know how to trust him. I don't know if he deserves the hard work it would take me to trust him.

 

As of today, the answer to Peter's question is no. I'm sure I will continue to go back and forth for a while.

 

But today, I'm going to fly. I'm going to be thankful for the happiness I've experienced this week. I'm going to remember the wonderful nights with friends, the love I've felt from them, and the compassion I've felt for myself.

 

I can fly.

Dear Peter Pan

Dear Peter Pan,
I wrote you a letter last night and it was painful to put into words how I really feel about you at this moment. Because I don't love you and I feel like there is a hole in my heart where I used to. It's empty and hardened and I am not sure it will ever be able to open up to someone again.

I feel it is important to write you and tell you some of the things I have been feeling since you've returned from your summer job.

I am angry. I see you and my chest tightens and my eyebrows furrow. I have realized that I resent you for deserting your children for an entire summer to go find yourself. And maybe it's selfish but this doesn't have as much to do with the kids as it has to do with me. I don't have the luxury nor do I want the luxury of leaving my children for an entire summer to go figure my shit out. Parenthood just doesn't work that way.

This summer, I spent countless hours awake at night just to get some time to myself because my days were spent caring for our children and babysitting other children to pay our bills. I didn't get to take time where I could reflect on my life without the worry of children. And I'm realizing this resentment goes beyond just this summer because there has never really been a time where I could reflect on this mess of a life we've made without factoring in the worries I have for our children.

When you left me, you broke them and you weren't there to pick up the pieces. Those hours upon hours of comforting our sensitive daughter while she cried in her bed or raged about her unfair life were all spent with me. I have helped her find security in her very insecure world. I was there when she yelled at me and blamed me for kicking her daddy out of our house. I was there when she begged and pleaded with me to get remarried soon so she would have a daddy again. I was there when her friends asked why her daddy no longer lived in our home and she burst into tears because IT JUST ISNT FAIR THAT THEIR DADDIES GET TO COME HOME EVERY NIGHT.

Divorce has shredded our hearts. We are piecing them back together but it isn't easy. And the hurt I have felt over your decisions and how you treat me now is a hurt I never could have imagined.

You have betrayed me in the deepest way possible. I wasn't first in your life. And now that we have been living life separately for a year, I can see that you are baffled that we can't just be friends. I can see that it doesn't make sense to you why I get angry and hurt so easily. I can see that you don't understand why I act like you know nothing about our children---because you chose a life that takes you away from their lives and you aren't there for them when you should be.

I loved you once upon a time. I gave you my heart. And now you are just the father of my children. Now you are your own person and you can feel negatively about marriage or women or whatever you'd like and there is nothing I can do to change your mind.

But I hope someday you take responsibility for your actions and understand that marriage can be a beautiful thing. Our marriage could've been a beautiful thing. It didn't have to end. We could've been warriors together but instead, I am now my own kind of warrior. And because I do it alone, I will fight for our children and for myself so that we can make this hell work.

We will make it work without you. I just hope you can learn from your decisions and become stronger on your own too. I pray you learn to fight for the things you are passionate about instead of giving up when things get hard. I pray you learn that your children have broken hearts and they need a dad who will be there when they need a shoulder to cry on. I pray you learn that I loved you for you and I would've fought for you if you would've given me the chance.

I pray you can someday know that there IS a God and that He loves you. He loves you regardless of your actions. He loves you for you, unconditionally. I pray there is a day where you let Him into your life because I know how incredible you can be if you would just let Him love you.

I am angry and sad that things ended. I hate the permanence of your decisions but someday I am going to be a stronger Wendy. Someday I am going to believe in the person my God intended me to be.

I hope you can learn to do the same.

Sincerely,
Wendy

Trust Yourself

June 21st, 2013: I feel extremely lonely tonight. Peter is sick and I haven't seen him in 24 hours. I've been taking care of the kids all by myself. I hate feeling alone. I wish Peter were here with me. This will be the second night in a row we're spending apart because "he doesn't want to get us sick".

June 22nd, 2013: This morning, Peter finally came back and within 30 seconds, he was yelling and swearing at me and then he stormed out and left the house again. I honestly don't even know what I did. I started feeling sick and I was laying down. Maybe that's why he was mad? I sometimes wonder why I married a jerk. It's too late now but I hate that he's always sick but if I even get sick for a day, he can't take over and be more helpful. I'm so angry at him right now. I've been in charge of the kids for a few days by myself and he just left when I'm not feeling well.

The last few months of our marriage, he would get sick a lot. Oh, wait, let me change that. The last few months of our marriage, he would get "sick" a lot. Yeah, I went there...

June 23rd, 2013: If I felt there was a way for me to be a stay at home mom and divorce Peter, I'd probably do it tonight. This weekend has been horrible. He is constantly speaking inappropriately in front of the kids. He told me he will keep calling the kids brats if they're acting that way and he often disrespects me. Tonight, the only reason I am not leaving is because I want to be home with my kids. Is this how my marriage is always going to be? I feel alone and discouraged. I've been so sad all weekend.

Reading old journal entries, I am reminded of how lonely I felt in my marriage. This is a fact I often forget and I'm extremely grateful for my journals. I've read through five of them in the past two days, ranging from the time we started dating to last week's entries. My journals help me remember facts I wouldn't otherwise remember, like the times my husband was in severe addict mode but I didn't understand what that even meant.

Now I understand it. Now I hear about women who endure these things in their marriages knowingly. I understand that marriage can be messy, as mine was a lot of the time.

The thing is, as much as I hear about women enduring these rollercoaster marriages, I know there are thousands more who are enduring it silently. I did that for a long time. Because I didn't understand my marriage, I didn't tell anyone how bad I was feeling and how alone I was. I knew my parents would be on his side---they had made that clear since the beginning of my marriage. My sisters would get upset about anything I would hint but they were too emotionally involved and would've gone to my parents if I would've confided in them.

So I was silent. I would cry myself to sleep. I would get horrible anxiety about things I didn't understand. I was put on medication for anxiety because I couldn't handle small tasks. I've now heard this referred to as "Drowning Woman Syndrome". What I felt was real. I felt like my life was falling apart before it physically fell apart. I felt unable to handle life because I was so confused about why I was feeling what I was feeling.

It was a lonely time. Extremely lonely time.

I hope you haven't experienced this but if you have, please know that you aren't alone---and you aren't crazy. Feeling out of control in a seemingly stable world is not you being crazy---it is you recognizing signs.

Trust yourself.

I didn't trust myself and it was horrible. I taught myself to rely on my husband and I decided I was the crazy one and that everything going wrong was because of me.

The term I use for this is "bat shit crazy". If you've felt this, you are currently nodding your head or laughing or maybe close to tears because it is a brutal feeling.

But trust it.

"Feel the fear and do it anyway."

I remember feeling guilty after our separation because I was beginning to feel less anxious. I was confused and wondered why this was happening but I get it now.

As I read those old journals, I breathe a sigh of relief that I no longer feel my heart is at risk in my home. I am ultra-terrified of single life and my future and getting in another relationship and trust---but I am not terrified of being in my home with my children because I trust the Spirit we have built into that home.

I still get angry. I still cry sometimes. But my home is my safety now. We stay home more than we ever did before and that is because I trust the four walls where I am raising my children.

Our Flawed Love Story: Part 6

To start from the beginning, click here.

August 24th, 2013 seemed like a normal Saturday. Peter Pan headed to work in the morning and said he would work a half day and then we could do something as a family. The kids and I spent the morning cleaning and playing and having a good time together.

Lunchtime passed and there was no word from Peter so I tried calling him. He didn't answer but immediately texted me back, "What's up?"

I had no reason to think anything of this. He was supposed to be at work and I could've assumed he couldn't pick up the phone at the moment. But I heard a distinct voice in that moment that said, "Go to his work."

I didn't text Peter back. Instead, I packed our children in the car and drove the 15 minutes it took to get to his office building. They questioned where we were driving but I didn't want them to know so I told them we would find a place to get a treat.

I pulled into the parking lot and not even one car was in sight. My heart sunk. Where was he? The questions started circulating of an affair or some other huge secret he was hiding from me.

I called his cell phone. He didn't answer. I called a second time. He didn't answer. When I called the third time, he picked up and angrily said, "What? I'm at work and I can't talk right now!"

It wasn't in my nature to stay calm but I did. I explained to him that I knew he wasn't at work and I just wanted to know where he was and why he was lying.

In the next 15 minutes, I heard a lot of things that I still struggle with. I heard complaints of unhappiness in our marriage. I was told I wasn't good enough for him because I didn't cook or clean well enough. I was told I was ignoring him and spending all of my time with the children.

He claimed to just be at his friend's house because "he needed a break from our family". He claimed he had been doing this most Saturdays for the last few months. He claimed he wanted a separation and when I asked him to come home, he refused.

I drove straight to my sister's house because I didn't know what else to do. She kept my kids and told me I needed to meet Peter at home to talk face to face.

I called him and he finally agreed to come home.

I didn't know what I would say or what I would do when I saw him. I paced back and forth until he drove up.

Talking didn't really help. He had already decided he wanted to separate so the only thing we did was figure out the logistics of this. He decided he would pack up and be gone by the time I came home with the kids so I left.

I felt like my heart had just shattered into a million pieces.

I didn't feel stable enough to see my kids so I drove to my best friend's house and melted on her shoulder. When I calmed down a bit, I noticed she was dressed up and I asked her if I was ruining date night. She said they were on their way to the temple and I was coming with them. I didn't even try to say no because I knew the temple was the only place I wanted to be right then.

The temple was an interesting experience that night. The first person I saw when we walked in was Peter's grandpa. Then, his aunt and uncle ended up being in my same temple session. It was an amazing Spiritual experience for me and I knew that I was supposed to be there that night.

My best friend's husband gave me a blessing that night before I headed over to my sister's to cry myself to sleep on her couch.

Fear was my companion that night.

Our Flawed Love Story: Part 5

To read from the beginning, click here.

When our graduation from marriage counseling was complete, and by that I mean when we decided we didn't need to go back together so we told her we were done, I couldn't shake the feelings of anxiety and panic. I didn't want things to go back to the way they were and I was so scared.

I voiced these feelings during our last visit and Peter Pan and our counselor suggested I keep seeing her on my own. I was unsure. I was afraid to stop seeing her and I was afraid of the recent things I was feeling.

The littlest of things would make me panic. I couldn't pray kneeling next to my bed because I had thoughts of someone jumping out of my closet and killing me. I couldn't handle being alone because I was sure I'd be raped or killed. My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was taking over my life and I would often get stuck in an aisle at the store, not sure which brand of food to get or how many to buy. Simple decisions became really hard and scary because I didn't want to make the wrong choice and mess everything up.

Fear controlled me.

I felt like someone going through Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and yet, the most stressful thing in my life was the fact that my husband didn't go to church which I had learned to cope with. I felt crazy and unstable and I couldn't figure out why. What was I fearing? Why was I fearing?

Counseling helped me so much. I started taking anxiety medication to stabilize my thoughts so I could better decipher the good from the bad. I was more logical. My OCD wasn't as obsessive. It took 4 months of counseling to help me cope with the nothing that I was freaking out about. We never did quite figure out what was making me feel that way at the time but it would make sense soon enough. (Read about it "making sense" in this post)

I confided in my counselor in those months about some struggles that had controlled my life and made me live in fear. They were addictions that weren't addictions. But I was sure they were addictions and I had made myself believe that I was making decisions worse than adultery. I was certain I would go to hell if I didn't repent.

I could hardly look her in the eye that day. I couldn't even get the words out of my mouth so she had to guess them instead. I had this view of how she would see me when we were done and it didn't look pretty.

But there was no judgement that day. There was love and a sadness for how I was making myself feel over something that was a common struggle. I had no idea.

That day, I felt a little bit more free than I ever had before.

I stopped going to counseling the very last week of July 2013 and I couldn't believe it had been almost a year since I had met this lady who had changed our lives.

School started. Things seemed ok, although distant as usualy between myself and Peter Pan. I was used to leaving him alone because when I didn't, his emotional abuse was too much for me. I still had faith that he would figure things out and I was ok with waiting.

Three weeks after school started, Peter Pan would make a decision that would change our lives forever.

 

To read Part 6, click here.

Our Flawed Love Story: Part 4

To read from the beginning, click here.

I was nervous about marriage counseling. I wasn't sure anyone or anything could fix where we were.
But I had this vision of our LDS marriage counselor telling Peter Pan he needed to go back to church and support his family and his wife. I had the visions of the things she would say to him and tell him to do to fix our marriage.

You can probably guess that none of those visions came true. Marriage counseling was nothing like what I expected. Although I was emotionally closed off in the beginning, the hurt would sometimes seep through and I would tell her all of the ways my heart was breaking for the marriage I thought I had and the marriage that really was. She listened and validated my feelings and helped me learn how to be ok with the changes that were taking place. We made plans for what I could and couldn't handle and how our marriage was going to be affected by raising our children with an LDS mother and an atheist father. It was 9 months of learning for me. It was 9 months of work for the both of us.

She taught Peter that he needed to be a more involved father and husband. She told him that every day after work, he should come home and think of one thing he could do for me before settling in for the night. Some days, he would do it and some days, he wouldn't but I felt like he was trying.

She asked Peter what standards were going to change with him not wanting to be LDS and also, she asked me what standards I could handle changing. He said things wouldn't change, other than the fact that he wouldn't be going to church with us. She asked about drinking, having sex with other women, doing drugs, etc. and he denied wanting to do any of that. I was relieved. I knew I could handle this and I prayed so hard for him to come back to church with us someday.

Church was hard with a 4 and 3 year old. It was hard feeling so alone. I held back tears often those first few months. Some people noticed I was husband-less at church, others would awkwardly ask where he was and when I'd tell them the truth, they would have nothing to say about it. It was a really hard time for me.

Christmas came and I begged Peter to join us for church because I would be singing in the program. He decided to come just for sacrament meeting and I was elated. I prayed so hard that he would feel something. For an emotionally closed off person, I cried through each song and felt the Spirit so strong. I asked him about it after the meeting and he seemed cold and distant, telling me he felt nothing. He gave me the children and walked out to drive home. I was heartbroken. I was trying so hard to help him find happiness and nothing was working.

On New Years that year, we got in one of the biggest fights to date. I was sure I was done. I couldn't handle the emotional abuse and I couldn't handle feeling so alone. Marriage is supposed to feel supportive, not lonely. Peter refused to spend the week with my family at our cabin so at 6am, I drove myself and our children through what felt like a blizzard up north to be with my family. Peter said he needed to work anyway. It was an emotional holiday because I felt like things were over. Things seemed to be getting worse than they were before we started marriage counseling and I was confused.

I stuck it out and we made it back to counseling the next week, where we talked through the holidays. Peter seemed attentive to what was being said and was in a good mood. He was a charmer. He told our counselor what she needed to hear and when we would get home, he would find ways to make me feel like this was all my fault so I was guilted into working hard by myself for our marriage. Peter is a manipulator. Often times, I would need him by my side while I cried and he would end up making me feel selfish for even having a broken heart over infertility or friendship problems.

It took me a while to realize I would need to do this on my own---and by that, I don't mean get a divorce. I had faith that Peter would eventually recognize his depression and come around so I decided I would give him what he needed from me and try my hardest to make life easier on him.

He would come home from work and I would allow him to go lay in bed while I fed the kids dinner and put them to bed. It was emotionally hard to feel like I was alone in my marriage once again but over time, I grew to love my life again.

I had faith that this was a phase. I knew I could help Peter become the man he had once been. I would see small glimpses of the man I married and that kept me going.

We "graduated" from marriage counseling in April of 2013 and I felt like things were going really well and that we would make it through this.

To continue on to Part 5, click here.

Our Flawed Love Story: Part 3

To read from the beginning, click here.

I was feisty. I knew I was quick to anger but I was also quick to forgive. Peter Pan was an addictive liar and would often tell me little white lies about where he was and what he was doing. I would check his phone often because I knew of his ability to lie on a whim. I think it would be safe to say that 75% of the time I'd check his phone, there was some lie that I'd find out from that day or week. And another 10% of the time, all of his messages would be erased when I'd check.

Every time I'd confront him, he would become irate and yell at me about how I shouldn't be going through his stuff. He would tell me that everyone lies and that he's sure I lied to him too. I handed him my phone during one of those arguments and told him I had nothing to hide.

All of the lies were little. None of them were lies about anything that would be extremely detrimental to our marriage. But they were still lies.

For the first 5 years of our marriage, I never assumed there was anything worse that my pathological lying husband wasn't telling me. That may make me sound pretty stupid but I never had a reason to believe he was doing anything big that he shouldn't be doing.

I'd go back in time and give myself this look if I could.

I should've been more in tune with what was going on in my marriage but because we fought so much, I had learned not to rock the boat as much---because when I did rock the boat, there was fire and fury on both sides.

We were both hurting and I had learned not to trust anything Peter did or said...or so I thought. Let's come back to that later...

There was one morning that Peter was still in bed when we were getting ready for church. I kept asking him to get up and get ready and I was getting impatient. This had been happening more frequently and I wasn't "dealing" well with taking the kids to church on my own while he made up new excuses. I got angry with him. I yelled. He got angry right back. He told me he didn't believe in God and that he wouldn't be attending church with us ever again.

I wished I could go back in time to 30 minutes prior and ignore him staying in bed. I blamed myself for getting mad and pushing him over the edge.

But the hurt we were going through was too much. I told him I was done. I told him that him being the spiritual leader in our home was the last thing I had held onto and that I was leaving.

That day, I met with our bishop and surprisingly, Peter joined me. Our bishop was not helpful that day. I felt like it was 2 men against 1 woman. I felt like I was being blamed because of my emotions over our inability to conceive a third child. I felt like I was being told that was the reason my husband was struggling. It was all my fault. We agreed to meet with the bishop the next week to see how things were going.

What a long week. We hardly talked because I still wasn't sure I wanted to stay in this emotionally abusive and exhausting marriage.

Sunday came again and after skipping out on church, Peter showed up for our meeting with the bishop, only this time, he was closed off. His arms were folded, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his answers consisted of short yes's, no's, and ok's. Our bishop realized that he wasn't getting through to Peter and told us there was nothing else he could do for us except refer us to a marriage counselor.

We agreed.

To continue on to Part 4, click here.

Our Flawed Love Story: Part 2

To read from the beginning, click here.

I thought it was the love story I had always dreamed of. I had convinced myself I had simple taste because I didn't care that he never properly proposed but instead handed me the ring with a "Here ya go" attitude.
***Looking back, I can understand how my insecurities were telling me that I should settle because how likely would it be that anyone else would love me like this. These thoughts were a mixture of my distorted eating disorder brain and Satan.
So he wasn't romantic. Oh well, right? It would've been an 'oh well' if romance wasn't a huge part of my love language.

The bickering started long before our wedding day. I keep telling myself this should've been the biggest FLAW sign but I ignored it. I loved him so the rest would just have to figure itself out.
Peter Pan seemed like a genuine guy. We shared many moments before our wedding that were real. I try so hard not to deny that now because back then, they felt real. He was present in life at the time.

We didn't always agree on things but we liked it that way. We liked hashing things out every once in a while because we told ourselves that that was our way of staying connected. Who wants to agree on everything anyway? Boring!

We had an easier time deciding on children things. We were excited to become parents together and would often talk about their names and what they might look like. It was an exciting time in our lives. None of the signs that should've been red flags were even visible to me because I felt secure and wanted and loved.

We were married 6 months after we started dating which seems fast but in the LDS culture (and especially for people who grew up together), this was pretty average. Six months felt like an eternity but it was finally the day.

The wedding ceremony was beautiful and I remember the happiness I felt from that day. Nothing could stand in the way of my happiness. I felt such a sense of security from knowing I would never have to date or get married ever again. I was sure of it.

Everyone told us "the first year is the hardest" which is obviously a lie but we were prepared. Our first year was definitely challenging. I ended up pregnant two weeks into our marriage and miscarried ten weeks after that. My hormones were everywhere. Then two months later, I was pregnant again and after confirmations from our doctor, this pregnancy seemed healthy. You can imagine how much of a rollercoaster that first year was. First, a miscarriage. Then, a new pregnancy. Then, an extremely sick wife. Then, bedrest. Then, a baby girl who was born one month early. It was a whirlwind but we made it and having our daughter brought us a lot closer together than we'd ever been---you know, until we started bickering about the diaper changes or the feedings or money.

Peter Pan was in school at the time and wasn't taking it seriously. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life so I supported our family, he screwed around in school and had a part time job, and our mothers took turns watching our daughter. It felt like a mess. I often worried and wondered how I had married someone with so little ambition and motivation to provide.

One of the first big lies I remember was on a day when I was home from work and had called Peter's work to see if he wanted to have lunch. They told me he had called in sick that day and my heart started pounding. Where was he? What was he doing? I called his cell phone and asked him what in the hell was going on and he proceeded to tell me that he was truly sick but didn't want me to be upset about him missing work so he had gone to a friend's house to rest. And guess what? I believed him. Huge red flag.

We were young. I was clueless. I knew we could make it through anything. We decided to have another baby when our daughter was 6 months old. We got pregnant right away. We were stunned and scared---ok, I was mostly just excited.

The fighting had never stopped but it certainly didn't seem worse. We were comfortable where we were. Peter was still trying to figure his life out and had quit school "permanently" before we got pregnant again and once we realized we were going to have 2 kids, he decided he needed to get back to school and figure this all out.

Everything seemed fine. We were happy and I felt like I was living a good life. I was only 21 but being a mom of two just seemed like something I was meant for. The only worry I had at that point was if I would ever be able to stay home with my kids. I was still supporting our family, Peter was barely going back to school, and he had up and quit his job without telling me.

To continue on to Part 3, click here.

Our Flawed Love Story: Part 1

Our flawed love story started two weeks before I graduated high school. I was young. I didn't want to grow up but growing up with him seemed like a dream.

I had struggled with self-love in the past. I had an eating disorder. I had rebelled against the things I knew were right. I had followed friends I never should have followed. I was broken and his love would fix me.

I caught his eye first and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. I convinced myself I wasn't attracted to him and that I didn't need him. I told myself those words over and over again because 18 year olds don't get married and in my case, this was true. But in my case, a 19 year old got married instead and that wasn't much better.

The weeks turned into months and my infatuation with him grew. I convinced myself that I needed him and at that point, he wasn't sure he needed me anymore. He told me we couldn't date. He refused to tell me the reason for weeks and when he did tell me, I convinced myself I could fix him. He was addicted to pain killers. This didn't stop my growing love, rather it made me work harder for us to be together. The story was sad. It wasn't his fault he was addicted. He had injured himself months prior and just couldn't kick the habit of taking the pain medication.

And so my flawed fight began. For him, I would do anything. For him, I would be anything. The only thing I wanted in return was his love. His love meant everything to me. On the days he showed interest, I was on Cloud 9 and on the days it seemed like he would never love me back, I had no desire to get out of bed.

I acted strong. I told myself it was persistence. I told myself that his love made me worth something.

The day his affection for me showed, I knew I wanted to marry this boy. He was my Peter Pan. He made me laugh. He showed me what I was worth.

I would sometimes catch him in little lies. He would say something about how he was raised or the "cool" rebellious things he did in high school and I would find out it wasn't true and I would tell myself he was just trying to impress me. He promised he was done with pain killers and that we could now date and get married and live a happy life together. I wholeheartedly believed every word he said.

Because he was my Peter Pan and I was his Wendy. What could possibly go wrong?

To continue on to Part 2, click here.