A year ago this November is when my life began to change drastically, so you can say it is going to be challenging for me this Holiday season.
My husband and I had been on edge, we barely spoke and when we did the conversations were as cold as the crisp Fall air. It had been this way for months and did not seem to be getting any better. We were both distant, irritable, and sleep deprived due to our youngest, who I thought for the longest was a vampire trapped in a sweet little boy’s body since he refused to sleep and possessed a nocturnal disposition for the first 18 months of his life.
And then there was my husband’s beard. His burly ass mountain man beard. He was so proud of his prized possession that took over a year to grow. It looked terrible and I hated it. He is a good looking man, and I would constantly remind him that the monstrosity on his face hid his handsome features. But he was hell bent on keeping that Duck Dynasty disaster on his face.
For months, I would hint and ask him to trim it so I could remember what he looked like underneath all that hair! But he would laugh and out of spite let it grow and grow, longer and longer.
It was the week of my company’s annual Thanksgiving gathering and I asked him again if he would please trim it down, at least to where he didn’t resemble ZZ Top. It became a tiff between the two of us. He did finally shave it off entirely, and when he did he was so pissed, at me!
I could not believe that of all the obstacles over the years, a beard had become one of them. How did it get to this point? I felt this disagreement was a reflection of our entire marriage. There was no give and take, no compromise, and he sure as hell didn’t care about what I thought. As petty as this seems in writing, this tiny difference between us was one of many, and it triggered an earthquake inside me that shook me to the core. It ultimately was one the of last straws for me, despite the other shit that was causing a distraction.
A year ago this November is when I consulted a lawyer about the possibility of filing for a divorce. Yeah, the timing sucked. I was scared, but I felt it was necessary to explore my options at least. I wasn’t sure at that point what I wanted to do. I was depressed, broken, and felt incredibly alone.
How is that even possible in a marriage? I had no appetite and lost an unhealthy amount of weight. After 12 years, I was not sure we could conquer the obstacles this time as I had given up and it seemed he had too. Years of resentment had been bottled up for way too long and I was exhausted from pleading and begging. I was screaming on the inside to be heard.
Thanksgiving Day was a blur. I had stayed up the night before, drinking wine while preparing green bean casserole and pumpkin rolls. I do remember I felt numb, and like an empty shell just going through the motions. I vaguely remember the gathering with his family, the table top overflowed with Pyrex dishes and platters of endless food. The house smelled of turkey and dressing. Chatter and laughter filled the house, but I was distant. I do not remember anything that was said, only the looming divorce proceedings and changes to come consumed my mind. I do not think the husband and I barely spoke that day.
He was still pissed at me over his damn beard.
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