I Took That Ring Off

Deciding to divorce my ex was not a decision that I came to lightly. As a matter of fact, it took me a year after his infidelity was revealed to me for a fourth time to even muster up enough courage to file the paperwork. All I could think about was the time that I had invested in my marriage and I surely didn’t want another woman to benefit from my hard work. I pushed, encouraged and cheered him on to the top of the food chain on his job; he makes a good salary now because I sacrificed and paid the bills as he worked himself up the ladder. I struggled with him through the family issues, baby mama drama and child support payments and I raised his kids. I helped to cultivate the man that these women now desired. I was not going to give that up and especially not to some skanky home-wrecking side bitch! After all, that’s what she wanted me to do. She saved all the text messages because she knew that one day she was going to need them. She wanted me to know the wretched details. She wanted to hurt me. She wanted me to kick him out and send him to her… well she was going to have to wait on it. I wasn’t ready!

My ex had become comfortable with disrespecting our marriage and then begging for forgiveness. He would have sex with a woman and cut her off just as fast as he could say her name. It’s crazy because his behavior at home would never change. One time in therapy, the therapist referred to him as “poker faced” because she said I will never know what he is really thinking. One day he could be the consummate husband and father and then boom… the bottom would fall out! Out of nowhere a child support order could arrive at my door or a phone call from an unknown woman would expose the affair. For years, I forgave each affair because he would cry and beg me not to leave him. We’d go to therapy, he would lavish me with expensive make up gifts and the women would corroborate his story by swearing it was a one time unprotected fling. He would be on his best behavior for about 6 months to a year until the next time.

This next time was different. Nine years had passed and nothing. No child support papers and no strange women calling my home. We joined a church and attended regularly. We vacationed twice a year and date night was every week. Our sex life was at its best. I remember telling my ex that we were finally in a good place. That is until a strange woman called me at my salon with an attitude and said that we needed to talk. She told me that she had been having an affair with my husband for a year… I was floored! There were so many details and text messages; I could not get them out of my head. I felt like he had been living a double life. Who was this man that I was laying next to every night? There were no clues or warning signs, but still, I asked myself how did I not know? Everyday was a toss up of tears and immense anger. How could he be so reckless and why? He blamed me! Can you imagine that? It was all my fault. He said that I didn’t affirm him enough. I didn’t tell him that he looked and smelled good. I was too busy with my career and he felt like I didn’t care about him. We should have had more sex. He never took responsibility for his actions, he just blamed me.

I come from a family of praying women… praying women that try to fix and marry broken men. As long as it wasn’t physical abuse, we thought God could and would fix that broken man if we just have the faith of a mustard seed and pray. I’ve seen my mother, grandmother and aunts stay in situations that they knew damn well they should have left behind years ago. Nobody divorced because they were unhappy or tired of being cheated on or lied to. I was taught that you are supposed to suffer. By suffer I mean you push on through and one day it will get better. One day your husband will grow up and reciprocate the love that you gave to him and appreciate you more because you stayed by his side through thick and thin. You don’t get to put your happiness first, you are a martyr for your marriage. I saw the women in my family pray, work hard, raise the children and look tired. Beautiful women that look worn out from trying to fix broken men.

The belief system that a person is raised on plays a significant part in the choices that they make. I repeated the cycle of trying to fix and marry a broken man. I began to look just as worn out as the women before me. It was a balancing act trying to handle all the stresses of being a wife, mother, business owner and the keeper of a man that was emotionally and spiritually draining my soul. I knew it was time to leave my marriage when I felt like my spirit was dying. I poured everything into him and in return it depleted me. Fixing him became more important than fixing myself. One of my clients said I looked like a wilted flower. I was holding on just for the sake of holding on. Then one day my mother came to visit me. She pulled me to the side, grabbed both of my hands and said, “You can leave now”. I said, what are you talking about? She said, “Donita, you are a good person, a good mother and you have been a damn good wife. You can leave know.” I fell into her arms and cried. She said, “I left your father when my mother released me. When a man shows you who he is believe him. You have done all that you can do. Your job here is done… now go!”