On outside looking in
I am in a situation and I am not certain what to do, I am hoping that I can get some advice.
For anonymity reasons I will call myself John and I will call my significant other Jane.
Although it may seem strange, yes I am the male half and I am the one looking for relationship advice. Throughout our relationship I have generally taken the typical female role and she has taken the stereotypical male role.
We met at work, became co-workers, friends and eventually became romantically involved. We were both in bad marriages (mine life-less and love-less where we hardly spoke, and hers angry disrespectful and resentful). We became a sounding board for each other and then became each other’s support system. I had asked for a divorce long before I met Jane, but for a variety of reasons mostly around guilt, I stayed and the rut continued. We eventually had a beautiful child, but as you would suspect, that didn’t fix anything. I asked for a divorce again, but this time I had enough conviction to stop the insanity and salvage the rest of my life.
Jane has 3 girls (14, 13 and 11) and I have 1 girl (5).
Jane’s marriage (as I am told, and what I witnessed at the very end), was full of torment. I believe after their second child, the marriage and the relationship focused away from the couple and 100% of the energy focused on the children. It became a competition on who could attain the most “love” from the children. The competition made them resentful of each other. It was if each tried to out-do each other. The girls were treated like princesses. There was no discipline, there was no disappointment. Every pleasure was fulfilled by one parent or the other. There were no rules. Even at a very young age (8, 7 and 5) each child had a TV, VCR, computer… in their own room. At dinner, each child was allowed to pick what they wanted to eat, so dinner could consist of 3 or 4 different meals, and no one had to eat anything they didn’t want including milk or veggies. Anyway, I think you get the picture.
When Jane’s Ex, finally moved out, Jane and I had many discussions. We talked about what we wanted out of relationship, what we wanted out of a family, and what we wanted out of life. We seemed to have a lot in common, we seemed to have many shared values. As Jane was in the house now with her three young girls, she told me how it was her opportunity to start fresh. She admitted how unhealthy the past had been. She started with small changes, which seemed huge to the girls; drinking milk with dinner, one meal for everyone, pick-up your stuff in family spaces, etc. The girls would complain, complain to her and complain to her ex, which caused her a lot of grief.
The competition was still on, but now more than ever. While Jane was trying to find her bearings in the new world of accountability, her ex was becoming the epitomy of the “Disney Dad”. Lavish gifts, expensive trips, and absolutely no boundaries. At first she was strong and resolute. Although it was difficult I felt like she was supporting us and our shared sense of right. She would call me at night and tell me about that evening battles, the disrespect from them and their hurtful actions and words. I hurt with her, as I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting the person I loved so much.
Eventually I was introduced to the kids and started showing up more. Although we had a lot of fun, played games and did stuff together, it didn’t take long for the girls to start blaming me for the new change in mom. I saw how they treated her (and me). When she was giving them stuff or allowing them to get away with stuff they were happy, but as soon as the giving stopped they had no use for her. It killed me.
Not wanted to bore you too much, fast forward a while. Lots of ups and downs. But a pattern was emerging, although I seemed to be the only one to recognize it. Jane would easily slip back into old habbits. Things we agreed to would go by the wayside, promises broken, support wained; all to support the pleasures of the girls. Jane and I would fight, I would try to describe my hurt but she would be so defensive as to justify why giving into the girls despite our agreements. I tried to describe how I felt so much in second place and how all I yearned for was to be her priority and her mine, and in that we would become the foundation of our new blended family. At some point, Jane would put down her defenses, and see the love I wanted to share with her. She would affirm her love for me and we would mediate to a new set of shared values, just a little less than the previous.
This happened in repetitive cycles. One would guess months, but no, it was every three weeks. One week good, one week where the wheels started to fall off, and one week of me being on the outside of her family looking in. Then back to week one. I got so tired of it, I decided that I couldn’t take it anymore. I told her that this was terrible unhealthy for me, for her, for all of us. I told her we either go to counseling or we are done. So we started going. At first things started to get a little better. We were more like a couple. At home there was more balance, less stress and less fighting. Everyone seemed to know what was expected of each other. The girls were resentful (of both of us), but at least their outward attitude was less hurtful. We did family things together and had fun, but it was with moderation and balance. Accountability was beginning to take hold, and there was peace in the house.
But not for long. The girls started to rebel and use their dad’s as a comparison. The competition was back on, and everything we outlined went by the wayside. We went back to the three week cycles. Each time renegotiating from the last position. Each time moving farther away from our original shared values. Over a several year period, we had hundreds of counseling sessions. When ever the counselor broached why Jane felt compelled to please the girls to such an extent, Jane had angry outbursts. Whenever there was talk about balance and partnership, there was defensiveness. So the counselor started to take a different approach. She started to ask me to change; “why do you care what happens?”, “why do you think it is any of your business what Jane does with her girls?” I felt like since the relationship counselor couldn’t get us to be a couple of equals who shared everything, she then was trying the approach of getting us to be two individuals co-habitating and getting together when it was convenient. Well I wasn’t up for that too much, but I stuck with counseling anyway.
More and more the house became Jane’s house. Her house, her rules, her kids, her way. I admittedly became resentful of feeling like I was in second place, like I was always on the outside. She would tell me that it was my choice to be on the outside, but the only way to be inside was to do it her way. To watch her kids treat her like crap when they weren’t getting their way. To watch her try and try to compete, to please them.
Eventually, going to counseling was dreaded. I would say to the counselor that the reason why Jane hated to go to counseling is that “dictators don’t like mediators, because they have everything too loose.”
Over the years, Jane would tell me “if you would only spend more time here, I might feel more commitment from you and thus would be more committed to us”, so I did. Then it was “if you would only give up your apartment…”, so I did. Then it was “if you would only be done with the divorce proceedings…” (it was a multi-year event), and it ended. But each time, it didn’t change. It would change for a short time, but then it went back to the hurtful ways.
Ok, I hope you haven’t fallen asleep yet.
Finally it came down to “if we were married…”. And I struggled with this one. But I searched my soul and despite everything, I still felt like she was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. So I started planning, and I devised a very elaborate engagement, one fitting of the princess she was. Towards the end of my secretive planning, a new issue arose. Her oldest child, whom we had dealt with stealing from the kitchen change drawer multiple times in the past (dealing with it the way Jane wanted to), finally riffled through our bedroom and stole a significant amount of money from my bedside table. I let Jane know, but all Jane could do was blame the missing money on me, calling me irresponsible and unleashing her anger on me cutting me to the core.
We separated for a while, but then Jane reached out in a very loving and uncharacteristic way. She apologized, she apologized for not believing in me, not trusting me. She apologized for treating me so hatefully. But the most meaningful thing is she admitted that she had not let me into her life as a partner, that she had put the girls first, that she did not share and allow herself to be vulnerable. This was the most beautiful note, and one that I cherish. Although I had called off the engagement plans, I worked feverishly to reinstate them. I felt with all my being that she was my soulmate. The engagement was awesome.
For the first time, we went several months being in sync. It was give and take. It was a blend of both of us and we were good. Neither one of us got everything we wanted, but that was the beauty of it, neither one of us lost everything either. I thought we had found our partnership because we were just that good together. But now I know that it was because he hadn’t stumbled into the hard stuff yet. It was a lazy summer, but just before school started we were faced with our first big decisions. I lost the first one, I lost the second one, and now my radar was up. I shared my disappointment that the unilateral decisions were back. She made it clear that she didn’t agree with my positions and that she was the one that needed to make the decision. Things escalated to the point where she was telling her kids “forget what he told you, I am telling you that it is ok”.
I was hurt. I decided to go into work for the evening. She decided to give the ring back. I decided to move out. Giving back the ring hurt me deep. I couldn’t stand being hated by everyone in the house.
We had been engaged for two months, but upon moving out, I was gone for two months. We occasionally tried to get together when the girls weren’t around. We stopped going to counseling all together because I was tired of hearing how we should be together living separate lives and Jane was tired of being questioned at all. While I was gone, things in the house became more and more like the way it was years ago. It was a free-for-all. All pleasure. Occassionally Jane would confide in me the hurtful things the girls would do, the disrespect, the callousness, the lack of appreciation, the taking for granted. I stuggled to not blow up, because as those girls sit there getting everything they want and expecting more, as they complained and showed hatefulness, they had no idea how lucky they were to have what I wanted so desperately. They had what seemed to be so out of reach for me, no matter what I sacrificed. For the first time I admitted to myself how much resentment I had for those kids. I felt ashamed of being so jealous, but at the same time I couldn’t help myself. They were Jane’s number one and no matter how much of myself I was willing to give and no matter how hateful they were towards her, I was never going to get what they got.
After two months, Jane and I tried to give it a go again. She said she realized how putting the girls before me was unfair. She admitted that she was desperate for affirmation and the easiest way to get what she desired was to give into the girls wants. She realized that the affirmation only lasted as long as she was being a friend and not a parent. She admitted that she has been anything but consistent and that she has put little value on rules and lessons. And she acknowledged how hurtful all of that must have been to me.
And although those were all wonderful things to say, things didn’t seem quite right. Within a month, things were worse than ever. This time she exclaimed what I had felt all along “this is my house and these are my kids, and I decide what happens, not you. I am in charge.” These words cut the largest part of my heart out. I became numb. I stopped calling it our house, it is now her house. I stopped calling it home. I stopped calling us a family. I feel so lost.
She now flagrantly focuses on the girls, and my only choice is to be around or not. We are not a couple, we don’t have a partnership, we are room-mates in her house. She has affirmed multiple times that she wants to be a couple, but it has to be on our terms which means that her girls are off limits. The rules and guidelines that we agreed to and built so long ago are all but non-existent. Every day we become more distant. Her with her kids and me alone.
I should also mention when it comes to my daughter, Jane and I do share the same values. I find that the approaches she refuses to use with her own daughters, she is quite comfortable with when it comes to mine. The difference is, I don’t have an issue with her actions towards my daughter because I think they are reasonable and appropriate. When looking at other peoples parenting and the results through their children, once again, Jane shares the values we once agreed upon. It is only when it hits close to home that she believes those values are needless and over-bearing.
Oh and I forgot to mention that way back, about 8 months into our relationship, despite all the sentiments of deep love and everlasting commitment, Jane had an affair on me. I found out. I found out about all the lies and sneakiness. And she denied it, and denied it. But when she could not hide it anymore, she told me a partial truth, and then after more probing, another partial truth, until I finally gave up on probing. She told me that she was under stress because her and I were disagreeing on boundaries and how partners should treat and value each other. She told me that she was looking for an escape. She had also been exercising and she liked the feeling of being attractive and wanted. She told me she knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. It hurt me beyond words. But this is another issue that never gets resolved, because every time I tried to get through some healing some other crisis would suddenly occur, and it was never the right time. And on the few occasions that I got the courage to bring it up, it was met with disdain for me for bringing it up. And ever since, when we fall into trouble and she starts acting secretive and like a single person, my fears and my radar go up. Do I think she is cheating, no (at least I hope not), but my emotions get the best of me. And would I bet my life that she has only cheated on me once, again I pray so, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. So not only am I faced with feeling like I am in second place, I secretly fear that I may be in third. I am a mess.
If I could resolve the hurt of the infidelity in my heart, I think we could put that behind us. But the hurt of being second, to not have a home, to constantly feel unimportant… I can’t get that behind me because it happens every day.
So this is way longer than I ever expected, but at the same time there are so many details missing.
If you have any advise, please don’t hold back.
Best,
John
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