I mean, YOU’RE the one who married him. You made this bad marriage bed — now it’s your duty to lie in it.
Your husband was just an innocent bystander trusting the fact that you loved him. It’s no wonder he’s so angry all the time. You mislead him.
You THOUGHT you loved him. He seemed like a decent enough guy. Now you’re fantasizing about leaving?
How selfish. How cruel. Poor guy, it’s not his fault. If he calls you names, you deserve it. He’s just frustrated. He’s just having a bad day. You need to be a good wife. You need to show your kids that you stand by your man no matter what.
Seriously. Are you having sex with him enough? Oh. Well there you go. That’s the problem. You need to show him you love him. Men have needs. Withholding sex is cruel you know. You really need to put your feelings aside here. It’s about him right now. Not you.
Remember. YOU married him. If you’re patient with him enough he’ll come around. I don’t mean to be cruel but that’s the reality.
Does the above bullshit sound familiar?
That’s what’s going through your brain, right? That it’s your fault? Well it’s not just you thinking this — it’s society. The amount of pressure that a woman has to endure to maintain a happy marriage is fucking bull shit.
I remember a time when I was at a party with my ex-husband when the cops showed up because of the noise level. My ex was almost black out drunk and he was getting really belligerent with the cops. He was in their face yelling and calling them pigs.
Guess what the cops did?
They turned to me and said, “Can’t you control your husband?”
I know, right? Sure, cops. All I have to say is the magic word and my husband will behave like an angel. I know this because I’m a woman and I’m magical. Yes, cops. It’s my fault and I apologize for my lack of control over my husband.
You know what, ladies? This is patriarichal bullshit. It’s time to turn that thinking around. If your man is misbehaving, it’s not your fault. If you tried to talk to him about your marriage and he didn’t listen, it’s not your fault. If he’s not respecting you, then he’s breaking his marriage vows. If he’s not trying to make the marriage work, then he’s not holding up his end of the bargain.
You, as an independent, autonomous person OF VALUE, can tell him that he’s not an active participant in the marriage and it’s over. Yes, it’s difficult when there’s children involved — I’ve been there, I know this — but believe it or not, it’s better for your children to see you stand up for yourself and leave then to stay in a sad, wasted marriage.
I cannot tell you how many emails and comments I’ve been getting where women are asking for help.
If marriage counseling is not working, or if he refuses to go — if he refuses to hear you — if you feel alone in your marriage — please do the following:
Get a pad of paper and a pen. Write down what would make you happy. Make a list. What do you want in life? A better education? A better job? An understanding partner? A better life for your kids?
Don’t short-change yourself. Write down all of your desires.
Next write down all of your resources. This includes finances, trusted family members, and phone numbers to community resources.
Make a plan. Talk to people you can trust.
A plan that’s in place will help propel you forward.
Please continue to keep me updated, or contact me if you need to vent!
Much love to you ladies!
Seriously. For reals.
Most of the traffic driven to this site are from the following search terms:
How to leave your husband
How to leave your husband with children and no money
Husband is a jerk
No money and mean husband
You ladies make me want to cry. Because I’ve been there. I know how helpless you feel.
I realize some of the resources I’ve posted previously have not been adequate. Therefore my project over the next week is to acquire resources, phone numbers, and links to assist you in your flight from your prison of a marriage.
Just to be clear, these posts are aimed at women in an environment where their spouse is causing verbal and/or physical abuse. If you’re not in that situation, please feel free to use these resources as well. A bad marriage is a bad marriage. Just remember — as I said previously — if you’re the jerk in the situation — OWN IT.
In addition, if you want to talk, please contact me. I’m no legal expert, but I can offer emotional support and a few words of encouragement.
I will try to post the resources within a week as I don’t want to leave you hanging too long.
Much love to you ladies and I truly wish you the best. I hope you find peace in your new journey.
Nothing will make you feel more like a self-entitled schmuck than being a pregnant lady who feels sorry for herself.
It’s all stupid shit. Like, being pissed off at your husband because he can drink wine and you can’t (not that I’m against drinking wine in the third trimester — because I assure you — I WILL enjoy my wine in the third trimester.) Or getting angry at your husband for taking that one rare night to go hang out with a friend. Selfish? Yes. Irrational? Most definitely. Is pregnancy an excuse for my schmuckness? I really want to say yes — but — no. No, it’s not an excuse.
I got angry at my husband earlier this afternoon for something fucking stupid. Something dumb. And he looked at me with this sweet, incredulous look.
And I felt like a bitch.
So I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes and confessed.
I said, “I know I’m being irrational. I’m sorry. I’m angry and I don’t know why.”
And he rubbed my back and said, “I know, babe.”
I really need to work on being nice.
Especially because I have a husband who’ll rub my back and look at me with his sympathetic brown eyes…
And still call me babe. No matter how horrible I’ve been.
I bet you’re dying to know how not to spend the weekend. Just Dying.
So here you go.
Don’t spend it puking — then cleaning up your daughter’s puke — then cleaning up your son’s puke.
Don’t spend it being nauseated at the thought of food.
Don’t spend it being annoyed at your male co-worker who upon finding out you’ve been puking your guts up all night, starts laughing and asks if you’re pregnant. Haha. Yeah. Cuz that’s so funny, right?
Don’t spend it being offended at your two-year old sons rejection of your affections.
Don’t spend it being angry that your $1ooo dining set has been scratched to oblivion by your oblivious but endearing husband as he attempts to re-string his guitars on the dining table. For hours. HOURS. Oblivious to the very fact that he is indeed covering 50% of the table in deep, jagged scratches and indentations.
I love him. I do. God, I love him.
Don’t spend it working at your job, on a Sunday, trying to train a new nurse whilst you’re recovering from a stomach virus.
This only makes for a very long, very bad, terrible, awful day.
Don’t spend it comforting your 12-year-old son. On his birthday. As he pukes his guts up.
And don’t spend it being an ungrateful brat, who stomps around the house, hollering about how everything is a fucking mess, kicking toys across the floor and injuring your big toe in the process.
The kids are in bed. You’re typing on the computer, enjoying the stillness. And your husband. Your lovely, bespectacled, plaid-shirt wearing husband is sitting on the couch next to you. Playing his bass guitar with the most heavenly look on his bearded face. And he’s happy.
So you’re happy.
Even though he fucked up the table.