Thursday 10 November 2011

Rejected

I was rejected by a dating site. I never knew one could be rejected by a dating site, but apparently a computer out there thought I was not ready to even consider the future prospect of a relationship. 

I have accepted the fact that I am easy prey for the greedy. I simply cannot choose my own partner, in vivo. I thought online dating would be the modern equivalent of the good-old-matchmaker who is alive and well in the parallel universe I came from, but apparently, that is not the case.

My friend, Miriam, keeps complaining that she is 36 and has yet to get married. She argued that at least somebody thought I was "loveable enough to marry me". I told her it had little to do with me being loveable and everything to do with people wanting to free-load off of me because I am stupid enough to let them do that. She would not have it.

I have had random people pretending to be in love with me after having met me for a total duration of 4 hours. My seemingly legendary reputation for being a stupid goose that lays golden eggs, has reached all corners of the continent. Of course, it comes as no surprise that those who pretend to be enamoured with me are people who would be more than happy to marry me, so they, too, could collect alimony like that man, who did it the first time around. It is no coincidence, that these people are people whose options are quite limited on the occupational front. I used to shy away from discriminating against suitors for their earning potential, but find myself having no choice but to do so. How else can I prevent myself from falling flat on my face again?

Perhaps I can only be loved by my parents, my friends and the people I help at work. The latter two will also seek their best interest in their interactions with me but at least the damages of them doing so are manageable. Yes, I am whining, but life has not been a walk in the roses for me lately.

The Second Plague

"I hate you! I don't love you anymore! I want a divorce", the most shocking words I ever heard from my husband.
It was not his fault. I had set myself up for this. I had been supporting him financially for 2 years, with the hopes that he would use the time to market his art. He produced, sporadically, sometimes spending months in between, doing little other than stewing over his next creation and socializing with random models he picked off the street that he thought would look good naked. I was not allowed to have any expectations or ask him to promote himself. I was to be solely happy with his production. I issued him a salary for "helping my business" but was not to impose deadlines or make requests. He decided upon his duties and I was to sign cheques and shut up. I ruminated over it for months; I felt like I was being taken advantage of. I was scared of confronting him but believed it was all due to my own insecurities. I was certain that he would oblige and find another job as soon as I verbalized my resentment. I tried to do so, indirectly, while sugar-coating my statements to avoid altercations. He did not seem to respond to my suggestions. He appeared to completely ignore me.

Then, we had some friends over for dinner. The wife, who was also an artist described her dissatisfaction with her attempts at selling her art over the past 15 years. She got herself a job in education as she gave up on her artistic career. My husband kept agreeing with her despite his lack of ever having tried. I pointed out he had never tried, in three different ways, on three different occasions until he angrily demanded: "Why are you demeaning me in front of our friends?". Awkwardness ensued. The soiree ended. I brought it up. He felt he was the one that should have been challenging me. I said: "I feel like I'm being taken advantage of. I cannot do this anymore. Please, find a job outside of my business". He blurted out those immortal declarations I had started the post with and gave me the silent treatment for 4 days.

I found us a couples' counselor on day 3. My husband refused to tell me how he felt about the prospect of that journey.  "I'll go", he said.When I asked him what I could attribute this change of heart to he responded: "I owe you no explanations! Take it or leave it!". So I took it.  The counselor was kind enough to schedule us to see him on day 6. I had pleaded with him to save our marriage in the email I sent him. My husband suddenly felt like talking to me and "being a nice guy" on day 5, but by that time I had already grieved the presumptuous delusions that led me to trust him and the fact that I was idiotic enough to have accepted to be his retirement plan.

With every day that passed, I realized that my husband truly did not love me. His statements and actions proved my fears. I was being taken advantage of, because I invited him to do so. I offered the set up we had, for a year, to allow him to make his art a viable source of income allowing him a sense of independence, liberating him from his fear of applying for another junior position at his age, having to deal with all the frustration that entailed. Not only did I issue his salary for helping me with whatever he felt like helping me with; but whenever he was strapped for money, he huffed and puffed and I got the hint and bought his artwork. He did the laundry, cooked and arranged for guests but our home was a mess and it was my fault.

I had to go on a trip, without my husband. 

We continued couples' counseling upon my return. I gently attempted to describe our difficulties in a balanced way, assuming a major part of the responsibility for our relationship being in crisis. Session after session, my husband said little. One day, I told him he would have to talk and he, again, confirmed how I felt. Apparently, I am a pig. He was concerned about my capacity to parent. He spent the salary I issued him on a son he had from a previous relationship, but gave me no credit for having made such contributions. He rarely spent anything on our shared expenses without me forking out more money and being double taxed. He went on and on about how irresponsible and immature I was. I laughed to myself. I thought it was ironic that I had heard similar arguments being used in similar dynamics where the alleged slob had been victimized by their kindness and resistance to hurt their aggressor. My husband had wanted me to tell him the verdict at the end of that session and I told him: "You're right! You can do better. This is not working. We're getting a divorce!"He seemed to reject my response for some reason. "You haven't slept. You should think about it", he suggested. "No, I'm fine. I won't change my mind. It is what it is", I responded. He remained quiet for a moment and then said: "My life is over! I am 51 and I have no job. I have no future!" Again, he proved to me how naive and gullible I was. His focus was losing my finances rather than my person. I was disposable as a person and all I was worth was my prospective income. It got worse when he threatened to sue me for alimony because I "make a lot of money" and he doesn't "make any"

I regressed to my angst-laden, adolescent views on romantic love: It is a short-lived illusion. At the end of the day, people look after their own best interest.My parents were right. How could I have trusted him in the first place. He made no efforts while we were together and was not about to get off his ass and start doing anything for my sake. I had signed up for this by marrying him: He thought he had done me a favour by committing to me and that he was entitled to have me slaving around for him. It did not matter that he was 17 years older than me or that I had a higher level of education. It did not matter that I made sacrifices and that my expectations had been so minimal. As soon as I required the slightest effort of him, he felt I was not worth it. He believed that emotionally abusing me and manipulating me was fair game, to put me in place and continue giving. To this day, he feels he only has "anger management" issues that I should have forgiven him for months ago. He ignored the fact that every thing he said after his initial declaration supported my fears.