The Curtain...

Early artwork of my daughter.

In the past few months and years, the curtain has been pulled back from the stage of my life, and I’ve seen the working of backstage events that are unfortunate.

I went on the first date with my ex on February 28, 1992. I was smitten. I had just come out of a divorce from my first real love, and in hindsight, I had no business getting in another serious relationship, but here it was, staring me in the face, and I went for it.

I wanted to hold the wounded little girl inside my ex-wife. I wanted that little girl to sit on my lap and let me tell her everything was going to be okay…

It turns out that my ex never could trust me that much, even though we stayed together for 30 years.

I was totally blind to it, but any time that I would bring up something that needed to be addressed, there was never any vulnerability on her part, only defensiveness. For the longest time, I interpreted this as a weakness of hers that I was supposed to compensate for. Any time I brought up things that needed to be corrected, I always left those discussions confused as hell, thinking “Why did I even bring it up” (whatever it was at the time). I didn’t know I was being gaslit and deflected, etc.

After we started having kids, I was so happy to be a dad. And then, we lost our house in bank and court fraud in 2003-2005. We were exiled to my mother-in-law’s basement for over a year, while I was trying to figure out WTF just happened in this trauma of epic proportions that crushed me mentally, spiritually, and emotionally.

There was a time along this journey, when I realized that too much noise, during PTSD aftermath was something I just couldn’t deal with very well. I asked her to be a buffer between me and the kids, to try to keep them quiet, because most of the time we were in a tight space.

Luke, Sara-Kate, Thad, Olivia, My ex - Marcy, Heidi, and Me. (2019-ish)

I’ve lost everyone in the picture above. I discovered that my ex, instead of just providing a buffer, was using that opportunity to endear herself to the kids, and to alienate me from them, and vice-versa. Psychological splitting occurred, and my kids have labeled me as a villain, when I’ve only tried to provide for and protect them during a life of my own never-ending trauma.

So when the kids decided to split to go live with their older siblings, I encountered a breach of trust that was irredeemable. My ex had betrayed me in a way that so egregious that it had to be dealt with or the relationship ended. She refused to acknowledge wrongdoing, blaming me, deflecting, and avoiding responsibility for her actions.

If only I had recognized that she had discarded me years earlier. If only I had known that her covert narcissism was something even she could not control, and was a defense mechanism for that little girl inside that I wanted to hold, but she was never able to allow me to do so…

If only…

I love my kids, and I love my ex, even though I can never abide her in my space again.

I hate being alone, but it appears that my path is to find me, without crutching on a long-term or intimate relationship in my life.

Perhaps I’ll never see any of my family again. At the moment, I have no desire to do so, unless and until there is a reckoning of the value I have provided and the redemption I deserve. Until then, I’ve given all the love, and fulfilled all the duty I’m going to fulfill on that stage.

“Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I’ll ever know.” (The Grey)

P.D., JAY V SHORE