Facing Toxicity Head On
I have been a mother for more than 29 years. In all those years, I have loved with every ounce of my being. I raised four boys and adopted an adult girl five years ago this summer. Nothing can prepare anyone for parenthood. There are no rule books, there are no official guidelines. There are several bumps in the road, and they come in so many forms.
With the children came their fathers. My first husband and I ended easy, quiet, and peacefully, after less than a year of marriage. 20 years later, I stepped up to the plate, contacted him, and apologized for what I put him through. I was a damaged woman when we first met. I told him that although I thought I loved him when we first got together, I only married him to be married, so that I wouldn’t have to go back home. I was in love with the idea of being married, being taken care of. He is a wonderful man and was gracious enough to not only accept my apology, but to also forgive me. That takes a lot. We had a beautiful son together, he has only met our son once, and then immediately stepped back out of his life and mine.
My second husband and I haven’t spoken to each other in years. He is the epitome of evil in my mind and there is no love lost between us. He was my first love at the tender age of 12. Our lives went different directions and eventually circled back around, coincidentally just a few weeks before I gave birth to my oldest. We had another son. We spent about 5 years together before our marriage ended in an ugly divorce and custody battle that drug out for several years.
My third husband and I were married for 12 years and had two beautiful boys together. Much of my battle with the second husband dragged in to the marriage with the third. It caused a lot of tension, arguments, and ugliness. I learned a lot from the second relationship and swore that I wouldn’t allow the same things to happen again. I stayed in this third marriage much longer than I should have because I didn’t want to fail again. I didn’t want to let my kids, my family, or myself down. Needless to say, I failed miserably. Thankfully, our divorce was pretty straightforward and there wasn’t much to fuss about because I chose not to. I allowed the boys to stay with him whenever he wanted and refused to use them as pawns, or allow my ex to do so.
(I met and married my current husband during the two years after my divorce from the third. He is my rock and is responsible for a lot of my healing in the last few years.)
Unfortunately, for a full 8 years after the third divorce, my ex continued to be ugly and vile towards me whenever he felt the urge, whenever I listened to him. Our boys are wonderful and as they got older would stop him in his tracks if he ever said or did anything around them. Thankfully we didn’t have much contact as the boys could communicate with him on their own. I didn’t want the stress in my life anymore and there wasn’t much we needed to talk about anyway.
As a condition of our divorce he had been court ordered to pay a certain amount of child support. I had the order set so that the amount was very minimal, only $100 per month, because I really didn’t want anything from him when I left. Through the years he was always evading Support Enforcement, moving and quitting jobs. He found every reason and excuse to delay or not pay at all.
With the help of a good friend, I was able to track him, and his limited assets down, to the point where the state of Arizona was finally able to take court actions against him. He wasn’t very happy when he got a demand letter from them requesting several thousands of dollars in back support. At that point he wanted to work something out with me, so our youngest, who was 17 at the time, arranged a video call.
In September of 2017 during that call everything went well for the first 10 minutes or so as we exchanged pleasantries. When conversation eventually got down to dollars and cents, and I stood my ground. He went ballistic and started to threaten me again, using the words and facial expressions that he had used during our marriage. He got very ugly and called me a “fucking cunt” when I wouldn’t budge on my stance. I ended the call very abruptly after that and vowed to never see or speak to him again. The state could do whatever they needed to collect on the back support, it wasn’t worth my time or effort to fight with him. I don’t need that garbage in my life.
All of my children are now grown, and as of a week ago today, finally out of the house. I have done my job. I raised my kids and gave them the basis they need to forge through life. It was time to cut the apron strings and make them stand on their own.
I had given my youngest son an ultimatum that he had to be out of the house by the end of the year, or he would be put out on the street. He had spent the previous seven months, ever since he turned 18, laying around the house, playing games, and making messes. Although he helped out a little around here and there, he wouldn’t take the steps needed to take on more responsibility for himself. My husband and I decided that he had to go. We had kicked his older brother out in September. when it came down to the wire, my youngest son had no other options than to move up north to live with his Dad and older brother.
After much discussion, and some tears on my son's part, it was decided between my husband and I that we would pack my car up with everything of my son’s that fit, and we would personally drop him off. I had the peace of mind knowing that he would get there, and we would have closure by being in control of the situation. Mind you, this wasn’t going to be just your typical fun road trip on a beautiful winter day.
Last weekend I made a decision to do that very thing that I said I would never do again. I would face my demon. The level of fear and anxiety that was rushing through my blood is indescribable. Not only was I emptying out my nest, with all the emotions that entails, I was also going to be face to face with a man that had threatened to kill me, had gone so far as to take a hit out on me, had broken me down to nearly nothing emotionally, and whose last words to me a year prior were “fucking cunt.”
The entire 3 hour drive up to Flagstaff, I did my best to keep a smile on my face. I repeated positive affirmations in my head, and reminded myself that I could do this. My husband was very reassuring and stated that he had my back, if my ex tried anything, he would deal with it. I am a very strong woman, but I can admit that I was truly struggling with this looming meeting. My anxiety level was through the roof.
When we got to the apartment complex, my ex and older son were still out at the store, so we had some time to kill. That means that I had more time to stress out about what may or may not happen next. My youngest had repeatedly warned us that my ex had “a bone to pick” with me and I might not want to be around when his dad showed up, suggesting that I “hide out” in the convenience store across the street. We all agreed that more than likely nothing bad was going to happen, but after we leave, there would be trash talk.
I am an adult, I am not afraid of much. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to talk to him. I just wanted to drop my son off, give my other son a hug, and be on our way back home. I had time to pace, I had time to think. I also had time to decide. Instead of running and hiding like every bone in my body was screaming at me to do, I held my ground again.
I kept repeating in my head, I am NOT afraid, I CAN do this, we WILL survive. He isn’t going to do anything in a public place where so many people can see. We all saw his vehicle pull up at the same time. A collective breath was let out. We got out of the car. My youngest immediately went in for a hug to his dad. My husband and ex shook hands and exchanged hellos. I stood by my car door and asked my ex how he had been. He stated that he feels old and tired. I said I know what you mean.
Then I did it.
I went in for the hug.
I held him tight, I held him with warmth, and I held him with love.
I killed him with kindness.
I surprised him, I surprised myself.
Less than a minute later, my husband and I were in the car and heading down the two-and-a-half-hour road back home, back to my safe place, back to my serenity. I was shaking inside. My adrenaline was rushing like it hadn’t rushed in years.
I did it.
I survived.
I faced the demon.
I faced the man again that was so toxic he nearly died himself.
I was alive and I was free.
The icing on the cake is that I am now an empty nester. That feels small in comparison to the huge step I just took.
Thanks for reading.