Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum


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The covert ones

A close friend of mine posted a link to a news article about an ex of hers, on Facebook last night.

It’s a long story. She is the eldest of 8, very bright, very beautiful. She married the most eligible bachelor in town during her first job as a high school English teacher. A lovely, good looking dairy farmer who played rugby, played guitar and sang lead vocals in a band – a decade older than her. He was never a match for her intellect, unfortunately. Four kids and 12(?) years later, she left him, causing a heck of a storm in town. She was the bitch who left a favourite son. She had become entangled (I’ve never known the true state of things, but pretty sure there was at least an emotional affair) with the guy in this article. They had a torrid, on-off thing for years. He was “the love of her life,” but she eventually got away from his games.

She carries a lot of guilt about what she did. You’d never know, but it had a lasting effect on her. She really thought she loved him, and he her. I know that pain only too well.

Seeing his name yesterday triggered me. My own rape, of course, but my memories of that time for her. Her siblings all adored him. I thought he was a user, a predator even then. I was never a fan. He preyed on an unhappily married, clever, pretty blonde. He promised her the world, then had her running rings around the place for him. I had very bad vibes despite everyone cooing over how amazing he was, and how Cathy had finally found true love!

Look at who he really is. He’s a predator. A disgusting man. She named and shamed, knowing he was finally exposed.

And let us all be disgusted in our legal system, that allows this girl’s life to be permanently damaged by this predator, and slaps him over the wrist with 4 months home detention. I messaged her last night. She says there’s more, there will be more. I said I know. I told her my thoughts about him 20 years ago. And that I know. She said not many understand, her younger siblings were all taken in by his Mr Nice Guy bullshit. Most of them publically expressed horror and shock at the news.

Not Cathy or myself. We were not shocked.

Hmm. Familiar much?

Like 40 something year old men that “suddenly” have a long term affair on their loyal, loving partner, this is not an isolated incident. Paul, now 58, had done this before. He manipulates women and GIRLS, for his amusement. Roger fucked his ex GF, a hooker, and other ONSs in the years before he had a full blown affair with Leanne. He kept her on the hook, to fuck again even after he was exposed – in case I left him, he needed a back up plan. (Just like he did me when he left me for Trinket.) Proof being fucking her again, two years after “it was over, I hate her for what she participated in to hurt you.”

Yep, I have sex with people I hate all the time! It wasn’t a flash in the pan, a one off. He’d built up to that crescendo. He doesn’t admit to any of it. I think he really believes he’s just a man who made a mistake (over and over and over.) Actions have consequences. I’ve paid dearly for his “mistake.”


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The Journey Through Grief

https://wp.me/pbiNOL-x8

Reblogging this, because it explains the nature of grief so well.

My grief has less debilitating power than it once did, but I still am brought down very low some days. Had a cry shifting cattle yesterday morning. The memories of all that hard work, love, beauty. For what?


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When the other woman replaces you

I had those dreams last night, of my old life. They were about the years we were dairy farming, with little children, the love of my life beside me. Lord, I was so happy. I would have once said, we were so happy. WTF happened???

And yeah, so tired!

I woke up, realising I was single, discarded, traded in on an older model, and old! Lol.

No more calves and cows. No more babies. No more snuggles with my darling, oh-so-cherished bear. 😭😭😭

Later, at work, flat out, still playing catch up after my week off, my mind wandered. To the things that OW think. That they are special. That this is twu wuv. That all the agony you put a loyal, loving, kind partner of thirty years through, is justified because it was “destiny,” the loving, loyal abandoned partner was a bitch, blah, blah, blah.

Then, I remembered some things that I read on Dr Willard Harley’s website years ago. It was before Trinket, but after Leanne, my heart was working extra hard to heal from Roger’s betrayal in having an eighteen month long torrid affair with someone who was supposed to be my friend.

You are going to be labeled as the bitch for the entire rest of your life. No matter what changes or personal revelations you come to, you will be the bitch that wrecked a home and stole a husband. There will be innumerable family conflicts over this. You are likely to have his kids hating your guts forever. This means that every holiday, school concert, soccer game, big family event like graduations and weddings, and grandkids (yes, it will last that far and long) will be sources of conflict instead of happy times.

You will probably not be invited to a lot of things that your spouse should be attending with his children. You may show up anyway, asserting your position as the new wife. But it will be a conflict. You spouse will have to over and over choose between you and his original family. He is going to resent you for this. You are going to get so tired of constantly being the center of conflict and so tired of all the hate directed at you and no one is going to sympathize with you. When you do impose yourself where the BW and her children and extended family and friends are, you will feel the scarlet letter that you wear burning in your chest no matter how high you try to hold your head. I promise you…you will. You and your stolen spouse will fight over this more than you can imagine in the years to come.”

I have yet to see that affair partner cunt turn up to anything Roger comes to. She knows she was in the wrong. She knows, despite denying it to herself, to the world, that she stole something that was not hers to take, she was the Other Woman, breaking my heart into a trillion tiny pieces. That her character sucks. That she is a cheater.

A mutual friend recently said what would I do if Trinket came to me, full of remorse.

I just replied that she won’t. She believes his (and her own) bullshit about us being separated, and it is so many years now, she would hardly ever think of it, or me. I remembered this was also posted on that same webpage of Dr Harley’s. I think it is total rubbish, they never have regrets, or feel sorry for the cheated on partner.

Occasionally an affair partner will grow a conscience and want to be a good person and here is what happens…

Now, let’s say that you make changes in your heart and your life. Let say you realize that you have done something horrendous. Okay, now you actually do care about those kids and that BW. Well too bad. You can’t fix it. Not many others will forgive you now. And you will have one heck of a time trying to forgive yourself. You will feel sick and ashamed all the time. You will cry many bitter tears.

You will not be able to look at your spouse and feel the same way you once did. All of your memories of when you first met, your first kiss, the early days of your relationship will be tainted. All of those memories that are supposed to be sweet will be sour. You will not be able to enjoy them because you know that whole time it was wrong, wrong, wrong! What are you left with? Not much.

You are going to try to offer apologies, you are going to try to figure out what you can possibly do to make amends and there are going to be no easy answers. You will make yourself crazy over this because you want to do the right thing for once in your life and you have put yourself in a situation where it is impossible to know what that is.

Also, if you are one of the few who have this attack of conscience at some point down the road, you are still going to be dealing with all the same stuff above that the unremorseful affair partner is dealing with except it’s probably going to hurt you even more because you now genuinely care. Too bad no one will think you are sincere or trust your words. Why should they, remember what you did??”

Such a barrel of laughs!

I often have fantasies that she will come to me one day, probably after they split up (spoiler alert, they won’t. He likes easy, and she’s a believing doormat) and beg my forgiveness. I know she isn’t sorry. She could have apologised at any time these past almost four years, since she decided dating a married man was just peachy.

I also dreamed he came to me and apologised. Said he misunderstood it all, and totally fucked up.

This is what my screwed up head does when I’m asleep. Undoing all my conscious work in processing the trauma and protecting myself. The kids tell me he used to say, “I’m mourning the loss of your mother.”

Like hell he was! He replaced me! There was no time, nor space to mourn. He just threw me out like I meant nothing. Thirty damn years he had me fooled!


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Puppies

Lawd, am I tired!

Back at work, damn.

My mare ran a great 4th, second up, over a too short distance yesterday. Was watching with friends of BG’s, a former professional rugby player, who owns another hospitality business in his town. He shouted us ribs and beers at his place. It was open mike night there and there was some real talent! Fun way to spend a Monday night.

And the funniest moment of the night, for me, was when one of the 60+ committee women got chatting to me and asked how our holiday down south went. She told me her and her friends thought I was BG’s 30-something “dollybird!” OMG. I told BG, LMFAO, and he laughed saying, “oh, and apparently I can get a 30-something dollybird?!”

This morning, when I got home, before work, I sent my usual “home safe” photo (eggs, gathered when I fed the chooks) to BG. He replied, asking after the dogs…

I’m completely hilarious, right???

At least someone appreciates what were once a magnificent pair of E cups…even at such an advanced age!


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Drinks

L had a drinks party last night. She’s been feeling really down and anxious about the house sale. A party was a great idea.

A bunch of about 15 women were there. Most of whom I had never met.

But a mum my two younger kids went to primary school with was there! That was weird. She asked after Rog. Ugh.

And the woman where some of my heifers are grazing at her property was there. I have never met her as every time I go to check on them, try to drop off a gift basket for her, she is not there. She’s a busy midwife and a truly gorgeous person. She refuses to accept payment, saying I’m doing her a favour, they are eating her grass for her, lol. We had chatted over Messenger a bit. But first time meeting. She told me her story. She left her narc husband, after 13 years living and farming in Australia, after around 10 or so here in her hometown. He sounds dangerous. She had to leave at night, and not tell him where she was at first. Had the keys to a friend’s caravan, and laid low there as she booked tickets home, etc. She then got safely back to NZ. Her daughter soon joined her.

Since then, she has run into a lot of people from their past, who say things like, “oh, you found out about….” turns out, even though she never suspected cheating, he was a regular of strip clubs, user of escorts, and liked to brag about women and this behaviour to “the boys” around town. Mechanics, etc, ewww. He was also a tall, thin man, and she is a bubbly, beautiful blonde, with ample curves, quite a lot bigger than myself, but cute as a button and immaculately presented. Like me, she always felt like the short fat girl standing beside her tall, slim husband. And he liked to make fun of her body. Actually, fun is the wrong word! He was rude, abusive and said things to her when angry like, “you repulse me.” She feels so much safer here. Even five plus years later, he will try to find ways to harrass her.

I immediately warmed to her, way before her story came out. But man, she has been a tower of strength. He turned two of the kids a bit against her as she had been dating an old friend recently, and Dad told the (now adult) sons that their mother was giving this man their inheritance, was a whore, etc.

I know we are going to form a lovely little circle of supportive, fun, recovering women. Her, L, and myself. All rebuilding utterly shattered lives after abuse.

Women can fucking rock! We were all very supportive, somewhat submissive partners (due to controlling men who eroded who we once were.) I think L will see that we can be better than ever. Those kick arse bitches are still here, deep down under all our fear and hurt.

It all sucks to have to, but hey.

We can do hard things.


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Family

So, I have mourned the loss of Roger’s family, ever since he sold our (his family) farm.

His sisters employed a barrister and tried to sue us. We were cut off from our much loved nieces and nephew (my first babies.)

I kinda always knew his eldest sister was no loss. A cheater. A manipulator. A user.

But I loved her kids.

The middle sister, I liked a lot.

I mourned our kids losing the only cousins they really knew.

I was really upset when Roger texted me that my almost 91 year old FIL didn’t want to see me anymore. I had been taking him casseroles and having a red wine with him when I was in his town (our home town) every few months. Thirty years of loving these people…and I was not welcome. Because Norm is a cheater, left me, breaking my heart.

Yesterday, I realised properly that now that my MIL is gone, there is nothing left really. She was the glue, the character.

My eldest decided that she should go see her grandfather. She hadn’t since her Nan’s funeral over three years ago! I didn’t know that. I told her she needed to, thought it was the ‘dutiful’ thing to do.

Last night she told me she walked into his house, he told her she’d gained a ton of weight (she’s a healthy size, not that that matters at all, but you get the picture, who tells a woman they are fat??) and that it was time she got married and started breeding.

This kid. She’s sassy AF. Dry and quickwitted. She didn’t love being told that (surprise!) So she retaliated with a dig at the golden grandchild, her cousin N, the eldest, the only other boy to my son, “anyway, how’s N’s drinking these days, Grandad?”

Now, N is 33, also not married – but maybe thay’s okay, he’s a boy after all(!) – and crashed his grandfather’s car while drunk a year or two ago. Amongst other fun anecdotes. I’ve been told he’s an alcoholic. His mother possibly is, too. Certainly at best, a gin soak.

Grandad’s response to my daughter’s obvious passive aggressive dig?

“Oh, I don’t know anything about that.”

Sure Grandad, sure 🤣🤣🤣

Anyway, daughter told me last night that she’s good. That was the last time she’ll make an effort, and quite possibly the last time she’ll ever see him. She’s good with that.

These kids grew up literally next door to their grandparents, next house was their aunt and two eldest cousins. S, my daughter, has since let me know that she considers her aunt emotionally abusive. She said she was exceptionally mean – always – to her brother, my son, G. I never knew at the time. But I believe her. A jealous and bitter woman. I imagine the only son of the only son of the only son was some kind of a threat to King N 🤣🤣🤣

N, her son – who I actually really like, very personable guy – is the golden child. This is a well known fact. It’s not his fault. Just the Chosen One, lol. All the grandchildren know it, and laugh about it. The cousins from the younger two siblings little in-joke. Doesn’t mean they don’t love N. It’s just a fact they have observed, on their own.

I ensured my kids were not over at Nan and Grandad’s “too much” as they looked after my SIL’s kids every day. I didn’t want to burden them.

S telling me her story, and her telling me that the visit just underlined the dysfunction. She said, “you’re lucky Mum. Out of that nasty undercurrent. They are not nice people overall. Your family’s dysfunction is open, talked about, ‘normal’ healthy fucked up, lol. Now Nan’s gone, there’s nothing left for us there really. Just shared DNA.”

Yeah. I realised she’s right. I spent decades trying to be the dutiful DIL, SIL, aunt. They have never once reached out to me, either before Roger’s cheating was exposed, nor since. His eldest sister (a cheater) ACTUALLY HAD TRINKET AND HIM COME STAY WITH HER, just a short while after he announced He’d Met Someone Else. And we were still living together. She told him, “well, she needed to just get over (your long affair in your homes, beds, etc, with her friend.) It was just the one.”

Snort. Okay then.

Firstly, it was not just the one (exhibit B, Trinket in her home, FFS!!!) Secondly, 18 months. Thirdly, the lies and gaslighting over those 18 months. Fourthly, no attempt at finding a counsellor, examining who he is, why it was okay to fuck me over, make me sick. Fifthly, there are more women, he doesn’t admit to/talk about those, they never exposed him, so he can deny them, unlike Leanne. Shall I go on?

So. My daughter, closest of all the kids to her dad, can see through all the BS. She has told me she sees who Trinket is. Another victim. But a knowing one, knowing she was the OW, and not caring. She sees her as a dumb tool her father has used. She sees his friends, who I have mourned the loss of, as sycophants, not worth my time or company, “no loss, Ma.” She sees his family (her family) as dysfunctional and not required, also no loss to me, in fact, I’m ‘lucky’ I no longer have a duty to them.

Same daughter said this to me two days ago.

“What if I get part way through my (hospital) placement, and Dad leaves (the region)?”

She’s doing a degree that requires placements in medical facilities for the next few years for months at a time. She is doing hers in his local base hospital. Rog is generously having her live rent free with them while she does this. I’m very grateful for what he is doing for her. He also bought a house in her university city, that she lives in rent free during the week, commuting back to her home, with her partner a few hours away at weekends. It’s an enormous help to her.

I admit, my reaction to her question was, “why would he leave?” He couldn’t get Trinket to leave when he left me. He moved to her. She seems pretty happy in her home region. I guess her support systems are there? I can’t imagine why he would leave? Maybe she’s changed her mind now?

Anyway, after talking to two betrayed friends, they both suggested that S was voicing her observation – and previously silent fears – about who her father is. He does what he wants. When the going gets tough, he ups sticks and leaves. It doesn’t matter who is affected (in this case her, free rent is part of the reason she chose this hospital.) There may be something to this.

It matters not. I doubt they are thinking of moving anyway. But who knows? He sold the place he bought there within a year of leaving me anyway, so I don’t know shit about who this man I totally loved, who I bonded hard with, adored, is anyway.


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Live music. My love.

I’m on the opposite coast to BG. My favourite West Coast beach town.

To attend a gig. The Veils. One of my favourite bands!

I’m here with my eldest daughter, her partner and two of her old high school friends. They’re a close knit group, still, eleven years after high school.

Quiet as that secret you keep
Still in your heart as you sleep
Old as the lay of the land
Cold as all matters at hand
Long as the river of song
Mad as the world it moves on.

High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me
High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me

Straight as the wood of the cross
Wild as all the love that you lost
As sure as inside the egg lays the yolk
I’m standing outside the gates of hell
And I’ll keep singing ’til I croak (oh baby!)High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me
High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me

Come lay your head on my lap
And let your hair fall back
You’ve got to live with yourself
So baby don’t look back
Come lay your head on my lap
And let your hair fall back
You’ve got to live with yourself
So baby don’t look back (Don’t look back!)

High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me
High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me

High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me
High as the heavenly sea
Low lays the devil in me

Yeah.

Music speaks to me, “Wild as all the love that you lost.

You’ve got to live with yourself.”

Or maybe, a bit of this old track…

Sick from the city
It burns in my side
Ships are leaving
Shines so bright in the nightime

Though my memory’s fading
It’s you that I find
If only you could stay and,
Leave me behind

The tide that left and never came back
Is on my mind tonight
‘Cause it’s a small town
It misses you my loveThe tide that left and never came back
Is on my mind tonight
‘Cause it’s a small town
It misses you my love

I fall into a hole
Those sad stories you write
Your voice is so pretty
And it gets caught in the right rhyme

Though my memory’s fading
It’s you I find
If only you could stay and,
Leave me behind

The tide that left and never came back
Is on my mind tonight
‘Cause it’s a small town
It misses you my love

The tide that left and never came back
Is on my mind tonight
‘Cause it’s a small town
It misses you my loveThe tide that left and never came back
Is on my mind tonight
‘Cause it’s a small town
It misses you my loveIt’s a small town
It misses you my loveIt’s a small death
It’s a broken town and,
It misses you my love

No matter how much I know he is not who I loved, these lyrics 💔

He is my tide that left and never came back…

Time to go enjoy the music. There will be off key, loud singing. And no doubt some cleansing tears on my drive home later tonight.

He never loved me.

Kia kaha, my lovelies 🧡🎸🎙💋


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Gaslighting

It’s worth revisiting gaslighting.

I’m always stunned when someone says they either have never heard of it, or need it explained.

Which is fair. I’ve always known about it. And that is the nature of what feels like innate knowledge. It surprises you when someone has never come across it.

I really like, and relate to, these flashcards

I honestly thought I was losing it when I started getting weird feelings about the nature of Roger’s “friendship” with Leanne, his exGF, my childhood friend.

I didn’t immediately suspect anything. I think I went quite a long time, accepting he had this friendship, that it was “nice” he had forgiven her for cheating on him. Because I’m a naturally trusting person, and I had more than twenty years of love and trust with him. He wasn’t “that kind of guy,” right?

So, when I really started getting twitchy, and asked direct questions, his lies seemed incredibly plausible. The fake sincerity was something else! Next level! After she exposed him, he admitted to me that he was himself stunned at how expert a liar he was. It came easily to him. No nervousness, or giveaway signs. Just dead in the eye lies. Followed by love bombing deliciousness.

Simple.

I can’t count the times these types of comments were made the admittedly very few times I got antsy about them.

It was all in my head, there was something wrong with me.

I really thought there was. That I was losing it. Suspecting my darling bear of something he just wasn’t capable of! How very dare I???

This.

This is what he told Trinket. Family. Friends. That I am making things up.

I have a stash of messages from the three main other women from the two years on the dating apps. The rest, I have phone numbers and text records, and other evidence. I have never discarded this. I also haven’t looked at them for years, as they are STILL completely unbelievable to me! That my sweetheart, my life, my Normie, was this monster. Not the soft, loyal, kind, calm, sweet guy he appeared to be for thirty years. The darkness of that knowledge can still make me feel quite unhinged. Like it’s not real. I have the stash as evidence TO MYSELF that he really is this person. He really did do all of that!

When his best mate’s wife started screaming at me, calling me names, yelling that I was insane (um, who is drunk and screaming like a Banshee at a stone cold sober, well educated, 50-something, middle-class, “PTA mum,” sports coach, etc, mother at a wine bar in a well-heeled location at 8pm on a school night, lady?) I just realised the lies he had told. He’d set me up with our friends. I was the bad guy/the insanely jealous partner. FML. You can’t do anything but walk away. I realised that narrative had been worked on by him, to his friends, for a looooong time. It was heartbreaking, so unjust, and incredibly frustrating. Our friends were supposed to be my support system. He cheated. Again. He was leaving ME for a shiny new life, new woman, honeymoon bliss.

They had been incredibly supportive of me working hard to be okay after Leanne. I was told all the time that I was amazing, “a bigger person than,” them in staying with a man who had a long term affair with a woman who pretended to be my friend, to gain seemingly sanctioned access to my partner, my homes, my children.

Boy, how the tide turned when he did it again with a suburban widow! That I must have deserved it/must be an unforgiving/ frigid bitch.

So much for support. When I needed it most, charming Norm, who had “just made a mistake” (for eighteen months, ‘accidentally’ tripping and falling into someone else’s vagina. Over and over and over again. How unlucky of him, right???) had already preempted the narrative. Been grooming friends and family that I was insane, unstable, and he just HAD TO cheat again to be done with me.

I mean, that makes sense, right? No other way around it. Let’s break her some more. Especially now the uppity bitch got two degrees and isn’t fawning at my feet!

Well, it did make sense, somehow, to them! People want to believe him. He has that calm, rational, butterwouldn’tmelt, “kind” persona. It’s not who he is. He eventually admitted to the darkness. The secrets, the filters he uses. I never had a clue how much he hid until Leanne exposed him. He never was in 100%. He held stuff back. I didn’t. I was fully in. Fully trusting that he was, too.

Not anymore. I hold a lot back. I have to REALLY push myself to share personal or private information. Telling BG I even went to the doctor was a challenge. And he is at my place this week! Where was I going???

Ugh. It’s strictly a need to know basis with anything I share IRL with anybody now.


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Changing the narrative

Being cheated on (and especially left for an AP) is seen by many as a blip.

Something to just get over.

Probably the betrayed’s fault. S/he can’t have been (good) enough.

They weren’t there. They weren’t gaslit, mindfucked, contracted STIs, had their heart smashed…

I love this betrayed’s answer to Switzerland friends, or those who tell you to “get over it.”

This is me at this point in my life. I’m the person who replies “Oh cool, I’ll let everyone know your husband is available for fucking, since you think this is great. Oh hi, Cheryl’s husband is available as fuck meat and she’s cool with it, did you need some dick? Oh wait, what’s that Cheryl? It’s not actually great?! When did you change your mind?!”

People either hate me and call me bitter or they absolutely love me. I’m thoroughly enjoying this process of weeding out who I want to be friends with. Should’ve done it decades ago. LOL

Love her. Must remember to use some of this!

FTW!


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Support

She fell apart last night.

My darling friend, L.

They sold her house, but were well short of her expectations.

She messaged me, and I went straight to her. Held her, soothed her. Fed her chocolate and bubbles. The real estate agent also arrived with wine, thankfully after she had had a good cry with me, sobbing her heart out, and had calmed a lot.

L prides herself on being cool, calm and positive to the outside world.

Her real estate agent is a friend of mine, and was super awesome. She gets it. Sees these assholes leave good women all the time, for opportunistic whores, leaving the betrayeds to pick up the mess. Sell houses. Rearrange finances and expectations. Soothe confused and furious kids.

Galloping off with their marvellous, precious trinkets, living the lovely, loved up life we planned, with the money we helped earn.

I can’t state it loudly enough. That in and of itself is grief! Without any heartbreak. Losing your love to an interloper. L isn’t sad her husband is gone. She is honest. It’s the lifestyle and security she is fearful about.

With Leanne, I thought she was a friend. With Trinket, I supposed she would empathise with a fellow betrayed. I told her very, very clearly, and to her face that WE WERE NOT SEPARATED. Roger had not had that discussion with me. He made choices for me, without my knowledge, invaded my body with foreign cells I had no knowledge of. He decided to fuck others. To sell our home, move our family, without consulting me fully. He was chatting to and meeting other women for two damn YEARS, when he promised me to wait for me to finish my degrees, find my feet, make my own decisions for once. WTAF lady?!

Yeah, right!

Both L and I watch these men we built lives with treat the women who robbed us of the futures like fucking golden pussied goddesses.

It sucks SO MUCH! He said he loved only me. Forever. That I was his world. His perfect match. Liar, liar…That shit only worked when I was a trusting chump apparently. Once I saw red flags, asked questions, protected myself, he found another target.

A commenter recently summed it up by saying it like this…

“It’s one thing to suffer a loss, it’s quite another to have loss inflicted on you by fuckwits.” — summed up the insane grieving process of this fuckery perfectly. There are people in this world who gain your trust, ask you to share your hopes, goals and dreams with them — and then they make it their mission to rob you of all the above for their own entertainment. They they then turn around and do the things they know you wanted from them, with someone else, just to taunt you with it.

However, I know she will eventually be better. As CreativeRational suggested earlier, fear can be overcome. Assholery, not so much. She’s far better off!

So. Doc appointment completed. Apparently I now have a slight vaginal prolapse. How delightful 🤢. I know they are common, especially in women my age, with three long labours and vaginal births. And at least I don’t have any associated bladder leakage, etc. Time to up my pelvic floor exercises. Ugh.

Meanwhile, Roger gets tight C-sectioned Trinket pussy.

I’m pretty mad and sad right now.