A Rose By Any Other Name

I was gently taken to task several weeks ago by a friend who had been avoiding my blog because of the title.  She was afraid that it would be all anger and sarcasm which was something she didn't really want invited into her life.  She gently suggested that maybe it was time in my journey to perhaps change the name of my blog, because she found my title and content so energetically counter-intuitive.  Basically she felt I was a nice person with a not very nice name for my musings and it gave the wrong impression.  On one level she is correct, the current blog title might be better served by being changed to Dilettante At Large or something similar.

Her comments sent me to the dictionary to look up the meaning of "nice".  Agreeable, pleasing, accommodating (ok, this last one is a personal definition).  The title of the blog came during a difficult time of divorce, breast cancer and death of the father of my children and a bunch of other nasty things that caused a couple of friends to offer to do a black cloud exorcism for me.  I had moved through life trying to be agreeable, pleasing and accommodating, it just wasn't working.  I was tired of being nice and doing what others wanted or trying to live to someone else's desires.  Call it boundaries or setting limits (as a retired therapist I hate terms like boundaries and issues but that is a different story), but I think it is about having the confidence and the courage to say "no" or "no thank you".  I seemed to be really good about helping others define themselves and establish a life they wanted but no so good at helping myself do the same thing.  I'm not looking to pick a fight, but I am tired of colluding with others in my personal life regarding fictions of behavior, responsibility, and actions.  I think too often women have been taught to keep quiet, go along, be nice, accommodate.  We are rewarded for these appeasement behaviors and called nasty names when we say "no thank you or I don't think I agree with that",  bitch and ball breaker come to mind. 

I'm reminded of the Emperor has no clothes tale.  This idjit is parading down the street starkers and everyone is admiring his clothes except for the little boy that says "Look, the Emperor has no clothes."  Now I'm sure every woman in the crowd knew he didn't have any clothes on because woman are genetically designed with a clothes/shopping gene which notices these kinds of things, but they were to nice to say anything or didn't want to be called bad names for speaking up.  But the little boy, being a man in training, doesn't have to watch his mouth and probably grew up to be a gay male fashion designer since he actually noticed the emperor wasn't wearing anything.

 I am a huge fan of civility and wonder where its gone these days and I don't like the cult of rudeness that has grown up in social media and conversations, however, this doesn't mean I don't have voice and a backbone, and sometimes I'm tired of being nice - "Dude your naked!"

In All Fairness

In all fairness:

Yesterday, when I walked into my attorney's office to discuss "the problem of Jon", she let me know she had received a phone call from Jon's attorney and his secretary would be delivering a check after lunch.

Ok, so he stopped the direct deposit in spite of the court order, but I did get a check that he had written on the 1st of the month and his attorney got around to delivering on the 8th of the month. When I discovered that the direct deposit had not gone through I sent Jon a very nice e-mail which he did not respond to (and yes, it was nice - I'm not a total idiot) asking how he planned to convey spousal support payments since the direct deposit had been stopped. And yes, I think he got it because he answered the one about paying a water bill sent a couple of hours later and one regarding a walking stick that I found when I was cleaning the house he had been living in.

Why was I spending two days cleaning the house he left when he moved to NZ? Well.....it used to be our primary residence. He has lived there the last 9 months and we agreed to rent it until the market improved. Someone had to clean it after he left the country. We also had renters moving in on the 4th and no, I didn't clean it all by myself. But I was still cleaning up after Jon, and I am tired of being nice.

In the Business of Secrets

My daughter read my blog and was somewhat noncommittal.
Well, I demanded: "What do you think?"
Em: "I think you are whining."
Me: "Well, I was trying to be partly amusing and besides it is the truth"

Em conceded the "slightly" amusing, but said just because it is the truth doesn't mean you have to say it. "People have STD's and that is true but you don't have to tell everyone. Besides it isn't like Jon is going to ever read it."

"Think I should send it to him?" I asked. She just gave me "the look". Our family is good at "the look".

I absolutely love it when my kids have internalized lessons that I have tried to teach. The two lessons here being:

Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.
and
Who's Story is it? (In other words you can always tell your own story, but you really don't have a right to tell someone else's story).

Being in the business of spelunking into people's personal lives (in case you didn't read the part where I said I was an MFT/psychotherapist) I have always been aware that our lives are stories that we tell to ourselves and to others. I have done a support group with a colleague for 6 years for caregivers. Mostly they are spouses dealing with a loved one that has Alzheimer's disease or some other progressive dementia. They live in a gated community where everyone knows everyone. Every time someone new joins we do the usual and customary disclosure at which we tell them that they are more then welcome to tell their own story to whomever they want - heck we don't care if they take a full page ad out in the local newspaper, but what gets said in the room stays in the room. Your free to tell your story anywhere/anytime but not a story that belongs to someone else. Other than that we will talk about anything and everything, and I mean everything.

So, yes- I am whining and yes I will try and remember the lessons that I tried to teach my own kids and only tell my own story. But I have to say that I personally find it very irritating when my kids have internalized my teachings sufficient to throw them in my face periodically - but I try to tell myself that this is just evidence of what a good parent I was (gag me).

But just as a side note. I worked for a program that paid T. and I to facilitate the caregiver support group. When the funding ran out T. and I continued to facilitate. We have done it for free for the last 2 years. This last Friday I told them I was no longer able to be there. With Jon having left the country and no income I am scrambling to find anything that will pay the bills. I can no longer guarantee that I will be there for them once a month. I may be asking people "if they want fries with that" instead. But for now T. will continue the group.

You Are All Going To Hate Me

Damn - I'm tired of being nice. I am in complete and open rebellion. Given that I am 53 and currently separated you would think I might have done this "late stage adolescent thing" some time ago. But noooooo........

What caused this late stage struggle - well it was when Jon (and yes, I am going to openly name the guilty) left the country and stopped the direct deposit pre-divorce spousal support before leaving, We spent 4 hours in Court this last Monday arguing about how much the pre-spousal support ought to be when in fact he had already cancelled it. So yes, you can financially outgun your spouse (me), you can run away and join the French Foreign Legion (OK, he actually moved to NZ to work in as a Senior Medical Officer -Emergency Care for the Manukau District Health Board) and you can basically tell the California Family Court System "bye-bye".

Did I mention that I am getting a divorce and that my future ex-husband is an emergency room doctor. We were married for 14 years. One of those more traditional marriages - and by the way I don't recommend them. Anyway the short version of the last 2 years goes something like this:

November 2006 I file for divorce
January 2007 reconciliation
November 2007 wake up on morning realizing I would rather be dead then stay married to Jon
December 2007 call attorney back - divorce is back on
February 2008 diagnosed with breast cancer - gee maybe I will get that chance to be dead rather than be married to Jon.

Rest of 2008 looks like this:
Surgery for cancer and all the medical dance that goes with that
2 other friends get diagnosed with cancer and die
First husband and father of my children dies
Dog dies
Divorce mediator dies of breast cancer (ok, this is hitting home)
My attorney becomes a judge, time to change attorneys for $25,000.00 that I don't have and borrow from the children's trust. Yes, the kids knew about it.
No money so living in the house with "separated spouse" - are we having fun yet?
Packing house
Some other stuff I can't remember - nasty year all around
December 2008 I move into my oldest daughter's Condo because I was finally awarded spousal support. She had moved in with her boyfriend (really nice fellow - I like him very much).

February 2009 clear mammogram
February 2009 adopt homeless cat that has thyroid problems (no, I didn't know this at the time)
March 2009 next dog dies
August 31, 2009 go to court and argue about a reduction in spousal support.
September 1, 2009 Jon leaves country and any pretense of paying support.

I think that pretty much covers it. In the mean time - I am scrambling to find a job - which is a whole different post. But you will partially hate me (see title to post) because I am going to allow ads on this blog - I know, but hey it might pay the light bill at some point.

So the real question is why did I start this blog today? Because Jon will absolutely hate it. His public and private persona are very different and I am tired of being nice.