And suddenly back to today, I realized this was a healthy response. My anger was a symptom of healing. It was a symbol of not being able to be bought or pretending that everything was okay anymore. It was a refusal to let one small action make up for everyday emotional abuse. It was a symbol that I was not accepting this as making our life together “normal”. Or that every other day he treated me like dirt but this was supposed to absolve that.
It was a recognition that even in this “grand gesture” it showed his selfishness in his refusal to take into account anything that I cared about. Instead he chose to do something that would make him look good. Not surprising, when I got home, I don’t think we even went out for dinner for our anniversary; the public gesture was it. The empty public gesture. In private life, there were no kind words or expressions of love, there were the regular portions of shaming and guilt, reminding that I was “never enough”.
The easiest way I can explain all of this? Suppose you loved Italian food as did your husband and you wanted to go out to dinner for spaghetti, for twenty years. And for twenty years your husband knew this but refused and never once took you out for spaghetti, or anything else. And also your husband likes pistachio ice cream but knows you like chocolate ice cream. Then for your “special twenty-year anniversary” he brings a gallon bucket of pistachio ice cream to you in front of your co-workers who congratulate him on being such a nice guy and you for having such a nice husband. And you don’t even like pistachio ice cream. No spaghetti, no chocolate ice cream – but a big bucket of ice cream you hate – and know your husband knows you hate. It never was about doing something nice for you, it was still all about him getting rewarded. And he purposely chose not to do anything he knew you would like. That’s what this was about.
And that is why to this day, I hate that anniversary vase. And why eleven years later, instead of giving him credit for bringing me flowers, I was angry that he spent more money on that gift for me than any other time. Angry that he spent that much money on something he wanted to show off instead of on something I really wanted and that he knew I wanted. Because you see that gift was really never about me. It was about him.
And the healthier me knows that does not count as thoughtfulness, a loving gesture or make up for the lying and shaming he did. The healthier me knows she can’t be bought, not even with roses and an expensive vase. I think I will keep the receipt to remind me how far I have come. Because I don’t ever want to go there again. And some day, I may still take that vase out somewhere….. and smash it in to a million pieces. As a symbol of my freedom. As soon as I can do it somewhere I don’t have to clean up the mess anymore. I did enough of that already.
Click to Read Pt 1 of 3 or Pt 2 of 3
Are you “too nice” to be angry? Have you had a time when you were ready to shine some light in to an oppressive relationship?
Feel free to share in the conversation over at my Facebook page – Click Here.