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Hating my husband has turned out to be the best thing to happen to me. No, I’m not sadistic (much). Hating him has forced me to seek out my own happiness and to pursue a different mindset. Hating him has made me realize the amount of self hate I’ve been dragging around for decades. Hating him has made me learn to love myself.
I am among the millions of “adults” who were not given the necessary tools to function as a mature, self-reliant, and emotionally healthy person. In the words of one of my favorite self-help gurus, the dearly departed Louise Hay, I was raised by “victims of victims;” parents who were ill-equipped to raise children, as they were still reeling from their own mental and emotional wounds inflicted by their parents. Thus, I was never ready to get into a marriage. If I couldn’t love myself, how could I even dream of loving someone else?
Through our nearly-twenty year union, my husband and I have spiraled into a seemingly insurmountable abyss. One wrought with acid words that are forever emblazoned on our psyches and our souls. However, these scars have served as the fuel to pursue the path of self-love and acceptance. The wounds have become the impetus to go inward, no longer on a misguided introspective mind fuck, but to move into a space of full allowance of all the good that has always been my rightful claim.
If I’m completely honest, I dove into our relationship head first in a desperate attempt to fill the gaping wound in my soul that has been a part of me ever since I can remember. I deluded myself into believing this relationship started off in a healthy way because we were friends for a few months before hopping into bed. When that happened, our fate was sealed and we were doomed. That first union sparked so much passion and lust that I think we mistook it for true love. A short time later we started playing house and reproducing like Mormons. And for a short time that was enough. Until it wasn’t. Now five children and a bazillion fights, breakups and reconciliations later, we are at the point of no return. There is no way to go back to the broken, toxic, and lonely space our union has been occupying for far too long.
For me, at least for a while, our marriage served as a distraction from the true horror of my inner world. For him, perhaps it was a way to fill the insatiable demands of his ego. In reality, though, the decision to get married was foolish.
Self-survival has finally kicked in, along with the ensuing decision to actually look at how my infantile emotional state has contributed to our downfall. I’ve begun to realize how a lifetime of negative thought patterns, constant anger, and zero self-esteem are not the makings of a healthy partnership. I’ve also realized I’m determined to overcome myself and shatter the destructive paradigm I’ve been operating from.
With the help of a dear friend who is a trained spiritual healer, a lot of prayer, and innumerable attempts at meditation, I’ve undertaken the repair of my soul. She has encouraged me to trust my intuition and own my badass-ness. Through her knowledge and experience, I’ve opened myself up to receiving help from the spirit realm and listening to the messages from my guides.
I’ve also learned to rely on myself and the inner knowing and strength that have been ignored and tamped down for so long. I’m really good at being desperate. Desperate for love, sex, validation—almost anything. Slowly, I’m recognizing I am the only one who can give those things to me. (But let’s face it, sex is usually more enjoyable when you’re doing it with someone else!)
Slowly but steadily, the shroud of negativity and self-doubt are being lifted. Best of all, I’m the one doing the heavy lifting! Slowly I’m realizing I’m the cooperative component to my own desire. I am my own creator. I can leverage my thoughts in order to achieve my highest goals and dreams.
I no longer have to be the reactor whose emotional state shifts like the winds according to what the people around me are doing and saying. Nor do I have to be at the whim of what my husband does or doesn’t do. My happiness does not depend on him, or anybody else, for that matter. The freedom that’s come from this liberation is breath taking and exhilarating.