Why do I have to ask why all the time?


OK so lately I have been stomping, I’m sulking and I have really felt like crying. I could cry but I am too damn busy.

I tell you it is a bad day when I don’t even have time to cry!

The thing that really gets me is that I am crying and fighting over the same issues. This makes me really angry…so now I am sad and angry.

As always behind my anger is a great deal of hurt. It will do your understanding no good if I simply tell you what happened recently to upset me so much. I need to explain it all to you, I need to let you into my life.

Lets start with my spirituality. One of the main appeals of paganism, the thing that attracted me to this label was the focus on equality. The Goddess and the God as equals. Not a singular man controlling everything, I love the interconnectedness of paganism, everything connected to everything else…all working as one. It is the Gestalt therapy “The whole is greater than the sum of the parts”

I love fairness, acceptance and empowering myself and others. I am an open and passionate women and paganism really speaks to me and hugs me like a warm coat on a cold Autumn day.

So when I find myself in a relationship that is anything less than equal I feel so frustrated. I often feel that my relationship is a battle between who I am and what my relationship makes me be. My darling Hoarder once told me that he feels reluctant to do what he considers to be “womans work”. This apparently includes polishing, hoovering and putting washing away (yes even his own clothes). He will put a load in the washing machine and he has to iron his own clothes ( I refuse), he will do the washing up, but only if I refuse and we run out of cups.

As a pagan I also respect that I am responsible for my own beliefs, actions, opinions and personal development. So the statement “Who I am and who my relationship makes me be” is sitting uncomfortably with me. Yet I feel I have tried what I can to resolve this battle.

It is with this in mind I tell you more about my relationship with The Hoarder.

In the spirit of fairness and equality, this is my side of things. Every relationship has two sides, this is my perception of events and more importantly how I feel in the here and now. Feelings are not wrong, they just are and I feel hurt.

I didn’t have our beautiful children on my own. The hoarder helped and did his share of the creation. So why do I have to ask why all the time?

You know where I am going with this don’t you?

I know you do…I’ve read your tweets.

Why do I have to check what The Hoarder is doing with his life and make my plans around them?

Why is it ok for The Hoarder to do exactly as he pleases, not looking after the Princesses as he has better things to do.

I can’t do this…yet we created them equally.

Last week I made plans to meet an old friend from college. He is doing his research dissertation on Counselling and Spirituality and asked if he could interview me. I duly checked The hoarder could pick Big Beautiful up from nursery so I could meet my friend.

The night before the meeting The Hoarder informed me he had stuff to do at work and could no longer do the school run, this meant I had to cancel my meeting with my friend. I was really annoyed as I had “booked in” first, but there was nothing I could do. Until the next day when he slept in for work and re-arranged his day in one phone call and told me he would do the school run now.

As I stood staring at him while he made that one phone call and changed all his plans…because he could, I felt so worthless and unimportant than I have ever felt before.

I was lost for words, this lingering feeling, a lump of hurt sat in my chest for the rest of the day as I got on with my life (read as list of chores). I got through the day thinking I would take all the frustration and hurt out on my bike in my spinning class that evening. Turn it into something useful. Turn it back into a boost for my self-esteem and feeling good again.

So when the princesses were fed, I had my work out clothes on. The Hoarders food was done (grudgingly, but it doesn’t happen often) and 6pm came and went. I felt totally deflated.

He forgot. He forgot to come home from work. He did remember to go to the shop to get stuff for work and bread and milk for home…but he forgot about me.

I have always had a fairytale image of what life with my partner and our children would be like. I never expected a bed of roses, at least not without some thorns. In my head I would have a wonderful lover who wants me, who cares what I think, how I feel. Someone who is my soul mate (I’m reading Brida by Paulo Coelho)

The Hoarder is a fantastic dad. He really is good with the princesses. I always thought though, that the role of the daddy was to stop the mummy going insane and to be a great mum. That is the way great children (Princesses) thrive.

I guess it’s too much to ask of him. To remember me sometimes?

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Why do I have to ask why all the time?

  1. It sounds like a talk with yourself and then the hoarder could be helpful? In my opinion we facilitate others. If your OH is treating you badly what are you contributing to that? Perhaps if we don’t feel of value other people

    pick up on that?

  2. Oh bless ya heart! It’s sooo difficult sometimes isn’t it? I honestly believe that men and women are programmed differently. As much as I love hubby to the moon and back, he would once over have done exactly the same thing and not even realise that it upset me. Thankfully for me, somewhere along the way after our littlest was born he came to remember me, perhaps after endless nagging!! I have found that it gets easier the older that the lil ones get, but then we don’t want to wish their lives away to make ours easier, they grow too quickly already 😦 Hang in there you’re a fab mum and that’s got to be the main thing xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s