The Government Agent’s Wife

I’ve decided to share my story. It’s less about entertainment and more about therapy. Perhaps you can relate…although, in many cases, I hope you can’t. I’ll start at the beginning and end somewhere near the present. Not sure how many posts this will take, so keep an eye out. 

My Beginning

It was a warm, Arizona day, shortly after my 21st birthday. My parents and some friends had taken me and my friend to Vegas to celebrate our milestone birthdays. I was so young to have endured what I had already endured. You see, I was married at the tender age of 19. Not because I was in love, but because I wanted a way out of my parent’s house. 

My parents were good people, strong people, and very savvy, to boot. Every time I tried to move out on my own, they would point out how it just couldn’t be done alone. Well, along came a man who could change all of that. He had family money, a decent job, and he said he loved me. What more could a seriously insecure girl want? I promptly got engaged and the day after our wedding, the abuse began. It started with him berating me, then physically dominating me, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe, and quickly moved to smothering me with pillows, and repeated rapes. He even went so far as to trick me into believing he wasn’t home and ambushing me. It ended with him raping me, a gun sat on the table that my head hit as he sodomized me.

Had it not been for my parents coming over for dinner that night, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to me. They put what they could of my things in trash bags and moved me back home. Over the coming months, my ex kept baiting me with items of necessity, like my car insurance cards. I went to pick them up from the front porch and he would grab me and sodomize me. I honestly don’t know why I went over there, why I trusted that things like that wouldn’t have happened, but they did…and I’m lucky to be here today to tell my story. 

In the end, he sold all of my childhood belongings, things I held so dear, and that was the end of the girl, I had become a damaged adult by the age of 20. 

I guess it all makes sense that my next relationship, which started when I was 21, would be with a handsome man with policeman aspirations. Of course, I didn’t know it when we first met, but within moments I knew that this man was someone I could trust, and that was a big deal. He achieved his goal of becoming a police officer three months after we started dating in March of 1998, and I thought that we were on our way to a good, long, happy life. 

He moved 100 miles away and we maintained a long distance relationship for two years. Even though he became engulfed in his job and added a level of arrogance to his personality, I still loved him and thought we could make it through anything. Looking back, I guess I loved him enough for the both of us, only to find that that could never last. 

New Fiction

I’ve decided to start writing again…I don’t really understand why I ever stop. I suppose it’s because it drains me to think about topics and, then weave words that desire to be read. But here I go…again. 

“I am an adulteress.” I repeated this to myself, as I searched the reflection in the mirror for any sign that the woman I once was still existed. In just two short years, the youfulness had dwindled from my eyes, and began to show as a new dullness in both my skin and eyes reflected back to me. Apparently, all of the trials and tribulations I had endured in my first forty years didn’t take nearly the toll that just two years spent in the beautiful turmoil of passion provided. 

I suppose there is still a level of naïveté that demonstrates itself, even at the age of thirty-eight. Looking back, I could equate myself to a child, desperately seeking the comfort, the safe  embrace, only a parent could provide. At the time, I was as lost as a piece of driftwood, carried across the miles of open ocean, with no particular destination. All I wanted was a safe place to rest my weary heart. It was quite pathetic, in retrospect. But somehow, I convinced myself that nothing mattered, no sin too great, for the warm sanctuary of an equally aching heart would heal all indiscretions. 

Well, I Just Figured Out the Meaning of Life…I Think

I had a thought…that makes sense one moment, and seems overstated at others…then I wonder what the hell I’m even talking about. That process should be pretty obvious as you read on. 

What if…

The secret to life – happiness, sadness, wealth, poverty, love, hate, etc., could be found in a simple pattern? 

And what if…

Each individual had their own pattern, yet there was another, larger pattern that each individual pattern fit into? Could we find a mathematical code in our brains that is our pattern…and then crack the code??

After all…

All patterns are geometry, and humans are geometric, as are all living things.

Therefore…

What if the secret to life is cracking your unique geometric code?

In these moments…

I regret not paying closer attention in Ms. Ponchetti’s Sophomore Geometry class. 

Beautifully Flawed

I’m here to tell you it’s OK. It’s OK to want a change, it’s OK to not want what you have…to want something different, something more. Things change, life changes. You are not the same person you were yesterday…you are not the person you will be tomorrow. 

I want you to know that I believe in you, I accept you for who you are…no matter how flawed you see yourself. I do not see flaws, I see a person who is growing. 

Do not give into social pressures to be what other want you to be. Do not be fooled by false concern…there are agendas everywhere and none of them are your own. People say they want the best for you, which I’m not saying isn’t true, but often times they really don’t want you to do something that will negatively impact them. We are all self-serving on some level. 

The bleakest times are often the times when a major shift is about to occur. It is acceptance of the self that creates major change. Suffering is only caused when you see what you want but fear seizing it because of the judgement of others. It’s OK to break away from mainstream thought…it isn’t mindful of the individual anyway. I have empathy for those who conform and never see that they are something much more than society has dictated. It is our duty to forgive ourselves for not wanting what society says we should, it is our duty to rebel and have our own thoughts and dreams, and it is our duty to not apologize for them. 

There truly is no failure, if you could only see life through the eyes of truth that await opening within each of us. Stop apologizing and start forgiving. Once you forgive yourself for not living up to the standards of others, you can start rewarding yourself for adhering to your own. 

I’ve heard you say, “I want you to do whatever it is you want to do.” Why can we say that to others and not say it to ourselves? Perhaps it is our way of saying what we want to say to ourselves, but we allow guilt to rule our path – steal from us our freedoms. We are free. Yes, responsibilities matter, but sacrificing ourselves in the course of tending to our responsibilities is not noble…it is feeding the trickery which we have been taught. 

So, I’m here to tell you that it’s OK. You are not wrong…you are beautifully flawed…like a scared tree that has continued to grow to new heights…it is perfect in its imperfections…and so are you. Please stop apologizing for your flaws…go and be beautifully flawed. Those around you will learn from you…see your flaws and see the beauty in them. Forgive yourself one last time and then leave behind your burdens. Move forward, grow, experience, love, and wander. I’ll be by your side. 

Relationships

I got to thinking about relationships, why some succeed and why some fail. I realized that it has nothing to do with the other person…and has everything to do with you. 

The real reason in all situations of success and failure lies with one question – Do you like the “you” who showed up? It’s easy to place the blame on others’ actions, or inactions. But the reality is do you like the person you are when you are with them…do you like the person you’ve become? 

People should complement our lives, not complicate them. If they don’t, respect and love the experience, but have the courage to move on. There’s more waiting for you.