For some reason, I was always captivated by men who were preoccupied with themselves. Self-centered they were.
My last husband, Rex, liked to tutor me all the time. He was always teaching me what to do, what not to do. What to say, what not to say. What to think, what not to think. He had to know better. I didn’t experience being understood. That was my fault, he blamed me for everything. In the beginning, I tried to stand up for myself. That turned into a fight each time later on.
If our relationship was a house, a big part of me stood outside, waiting to be allowed inside. It was his marriage, not our marriage.
I thought it should be normal that someone who claimed to love me, would accept me more. Finally, I just wanted to be free, I didn’t want to be right.
I can think of a lot of reasons to cherish someone, but I cannot love somebody who doesn’t love me. Maybe Rex valued me, but he sure couldn’t make me feel loved.