Accountability

Trip of a Lifetime

I resented the comment.  I especially resented it because I didn’t want a party at all.  I wanted to go to Italy.  That had been my life long dream, my trip of a lifetime and I was planning it for my 40th birthday since I was thirty.  I was going to go with all my girlfriends and rent a villa in Tuscany and I had talked about it, planned it and as the time grew closer he started to drop things like “You’re going to go away for your birthday without me?”  And “Why can’t I take you away for your birthday?” I started to feel guilty and thought it was nice that he wanted to spend my birthday with me, being he was the man I was in love with, so I could understand that.  I discussed with my friends and invited him to join us.  However that’s not what he wanted, so we discussed again and then the trip was re-planned for just he and I.  Ok,  I was going to Italy with the man I loved for my 40th birthday.  Awesome.  My friends were understanding and things sounded great.  Then he mentioned to me he hated the thought of traveling overseas and why did it have to be Italy?  Why?  Because, it had to.  It’s what I had been saving for and planning in my head for most of my adult life.  I caved again and the trip was re-planned to California.  Ok, Napa Valley here we come.  It was my second choice and I could see driving the coast in a convertible, sipping wine at vineyards and enjoying the sun and warm weather.  I put a deposit down on the trip and when push came to shove there was too much going on at the house with all the kids and their schedules and it was canceled.  I lost the money for that trip.  I was sad that none of my plans worked out for my 40th birthday, but when I saw the extent he went to to make it up to me, I was relieved and happy and thought it was a wonderful day.  Now, come to find out I had to pay for basically my own party too?!  I was mad.  The things that happen within me when I get mad, may happen to you too, but it starts to build.  I can feel the anxiety of anger in my arms and it makes them hot and weak and it’s an uncomfortable feeling. Once the anger begins to build it really takes something very small or even insignificant to have it be unleashed.  I am not a fighter in terms of the physicality of it.  I can not throw a punch nor would I ever want to, but I have been told that my words alone can draw grown men to tears and I am not proud of that, but merely stating a fact.  My daughter has told me that my words spin so quickly and without warning that it can make people end up questioning their entire life’s choices along with their gender if I go long and hard enough. Again, not something I am proud of, but once it starts it’s like the ocean, vast and ominous and all encompassing making you feel small.  It’s not a nice trait to have and I try my hardest not to let it rear it’s ugly head, but sometimes, I have little to no control over it. I am not sure what exactly it was that set me off, but I was feeling used and backed up against a wall and taken for granted and those things mixed with resentment are not something to fool with.  I began my rant with a low tone as to not startle the kids, it went a little something like this; “Seriously, what the hell is going on here?  Where’s all your money? Why am I covering everything and laying out thousands and you are still talking about going on vacation or out to dinner?  Why have we been living the high life if we can’t afford it? Why is there no money in the bank? How is this possible?  I thought based on all we’ve talked about and all the things we’ve been able to do together that life going to be easier for both of us!”  Doesn’t sound too bad, but add in quite a few superlatives, name calling and the fact that by the end of it I was screaming at the top of my lungs. It wasn’t pretty.  It wasn’t cute.  And though I felt completely vindicated I felt awful and sad.  That wonderful, joyous, loved feeling had faded so quickly and now I was full of rage and resentment and I hated it.  I hated all of it.

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