The Ex-Wives Club
I was a stupid newlywed once. I was on what I like to call my starter marriage, while my new hubby (Rat Bastard) was on round number two. And while it pains me to admit it, I was a terrible second wife, but not towards RB.
I was absolutely horrible to his ex-wife.
Circa 2002, over two decades ago. I was a naive college student when I met the man who I thought would complete me. I was only 21 years old, and he was eight years my senior. I brought to the relationship a recently broken heart (thanks to my high school “sweetheart”) and a spotted cat named Barclay. He brought a past that consisted of an ex-wife and three kids who lived out of state. I was far too young to take any of that on, and yet I jumped in feet first. He was a walking disaster in jeans, a polo, and a puka necklace. I was absolutely smitten.
In the beginning, I thought RB’s ex-wife was trash. And of course I did…I was in love with her leftovers. I believed everything he told me about her, including how poorly she treated him and how she wouldn’t allow him to see their kids. He was a messiah who spoke the gospel, and I was a loyal follower from the very beginning. I called her names, and I said ghastly things about her to my friends. I was not a girls’ girl. I justified all of my behavior by reminding myself that I was the one who knew what had really happened in their relationship because he told me so. I was so stupid. Boys are liars.
Eventually, the paint started to chip from our marriage and ugly rust was all that remained. (I must have a thing for emotionally unavailable men). It took a few years, but he began to treat me the same way that he had treated her. Our daughter, like his other kids, became collateral damage. To be fair, Rat Bastard was not completely to blame for the failure of our marriage. I did and said my share of things that were less than wonderful, and I cannot even begin to justify some of the choices that I made. However, the only thing that I ever wanted was to be enough for him, but no amount of trying on my part could make him feel the same way. For a girl who was so incredibly desperate to be loved, it was a hard pill to swallow.
We eventually split, and I became a card-carrying member of the Ex-Wives Club. He had moved on with the woman who became Wife #3 before he had even moved out of our house. It should go without saying, but she and I butted heads. I was angry and jealous and bitter, an absolute atomic bomb of anger waiting to be detonated at any given moment. How dare he move on so quickly and begin a new life while I was left picking up the pieces of ours? Looking back though, no one falls in love faster than a man who needs a place to live. He needed a new woman to take care of him, just as I had done a few years earlier. His new wife looked at me in the same way that I looked at his first wife, like scum on the bottom of her shoes. I probably deserved it. After a couple of years of turmoil though, it was no surprise that they split, too. The Ex-Wives Club had its newest member.
At the time of my marriage, I failed to realize that I was getting someone else’s sloppy seconds. Like it or not, the behaviors which contributed to the demise of his first marriage eventually reared their ugly heads in ours, and I was left to eat crow. It was so easy for me to put blinders on and assume that Wife #1 was the problem, when in actuality, my now ex-husband was an absolute train wreck to be married to. I just couldn’t see the forest for the trees. By the time I realized it, his third wife was behaving in the same manner that I had all those years ago. What goes around comes around, and I deserved every single second of it.
Several years ago, Wife #1 threw a baby shower at her home for her eldest daughter. She kindly invited my daughter and me to attend, and although I was a little bit nervous after all of our history, I wanted to celebrate my former-stepdaughter. Wife #3 (who was an ex-wife herself by then) also attended. It was a little awkward in the beginning, but by the end of the party, the three of us were laughing and posing for photos together. We were able to put the past behind us as much as we were able and move on. To this day, those photos never fail to make me laugh.
After almost two decades of chaos, we had become the Ex-Wives Club, a sisterhood of the traveling (ex) husband of sorts. Once complete enemies, we were now united by our cringey past decisions. You can’t help who you fall in love with, and the three of us shared the fact that we each fell hard for the biggest con-artist of them all. We had finally come to a place in our lives where we could forgive one other for making the same mistake.
No woman ever believes that she will join the Ex-Wives Club. When that crusty man puts a diamond ring on her finger and paints a picture of how wonderful things will be with him, she believes him. But the love of her life will eventually lose his luster and she will realize that she may not have always been right about things. And when she comes to her senses, the Ex-Wives Club will pour a glass of wine for her and make a toast in her honor. Admission to our club isn’t exactly free, but we are always accepting new members.
Cheers!
