Don’t look back in anger

This song has had a lot of coverage in the last couple of years.  After the Manchester Arena bombing it was sung over and over in tribute to those who died and as a reminder that the people of Manchester would not be beaten by acts of terrorism.  It isn’t really a favourite of mine.  I haven’t really been an oasis fan ever but when I saw this weeks prompt for food4thought I wasn’t sure what to write and this this morning as I was reading through posts from the people I follow inspiration hit me, I chose not to look back in anger, that was my path.

The road not taken

When my first husband  (lets call him DH) cheated on me after just 14 months of marriage I could have become bitter and twisted.  Don’t get me wrong I was angry, furious even.  How could he? How dare he?  He married me, we had a child, we had sex whenever he wanted (bad sex granted) but I was pretty good a faking it so he thought he was good at it.  I went away for 1 week to see my dad and grandparents with our 9 month old son (they hadn’t seen him since he was 3 months old), 1 week and in that time he convinced a girl I had left him and wasn’t coming back – all the while ringing me everyday begging me to come home.

When I did return home on my 19th birthday by the way, I found all my living-room furniture rearranged, and two plates, two knives and forks and two wine glasses on the draining board.  Clearly someone had had a romantic meal for 2 while I was away.  When I asked he said I was talking rubbish.  I pushed and pushed, I had that gut instinct that something wasn’t right.  DH eventually admitted to having slept with someone while I was away.

I left that night and went back to my mums, and yes I felt a great deal of anger and hurt.  Three days later I returned home.  We had got married my family and his family said, he said he was sorry it was a mistake, asked for forgiveness, asked that we tried again, for our little boys sake.  He said all the right things (he was good at that).  It took a further 6 weeks for me to call it a day.  During those 6 weeks he spend every single evening from 5pm to 2 or 3am at his friends house, the same friend who’s wife was the best friend of the girl he had slept with.  I was pretty sure their relationship was continuing but he denied it.  In the end he admitted he didn’t love me and wasn’t ready for the commitment of a wife and baby.  He moved out and I filed for divorce.

The next few months we went back and forth.  I became a booty call.  He would knock on the door late at night tell me he was confused and he missed me, and I would foolishly let him in.  I say foolishly because he was seeing the other girl – suddenly I was the other woman?

When I found out she was pregnant I admit I laughed my ass off.  He had not learned his lesson.  Mr ‘I am not ready to be a dad’ had knocked someone else up??? But it was the kick up the ass I needed, and I never let him use me as a booty call again.  And he tried twice more…. Once when he found out Ms T was pregnant for the second time, and again when Ms T kicked him out for the last time.  I would point out that that third time I was married to Mr H and had been for 2 years!

I think my response to his “I though you might be interested to to know we broke up” was “why?  Did you miss the part where I got married to someone else and really don’t care what you do in your private life?”

Anger and Resentment

By this time T was 8 and in those 8 years he had lived with his dad for only 11 months of his life, and the following 6.5 years he probably only saw his dad for a total of 30 to 40 afternoons.  Yes you read that right – 30 to 40 afternoons out of a possible 338 weekends. After Mr H and I got married ‘suddenly’ he decided to show an interest and for about 6 months T spent Friday nights at his house.  When the relationship with Ms T ended he stopped seeing T; well he stopped spending time with any of his children, choosing to blame his new girlfriend, yes really, he told 3 children aged 8, 6 and 4 that they couldn’t come to his house and see him because his girlfriend didn’t like them.

Ms T, became angry and bitter.  She ranted and shouted at him (in front of the children) for not wanting to see them.  She was furious when he wouldn’t voluntarily pay Child Maintenance, a measly £5.35 for 3 children a week and so she spent hours tracking his employers and informing the agency in charge of collecting the payments how to find him.  Every time she did he left that job and got a new one, and then she would start over again.

Ms T met a new man and they got married.  Still she ranted and raged.  She had a child with her new husband and still she was angry at DH.  She decided to move to Scotland and then was furious that DH wouldn’t travel to see the two children.  I was not at all surprised.  He wouldn’t drive 5 miles to see them I never expected him to drive over 4 hours, but she carried that anger and rage.  Ten years later she was still as angry, and S1 once commented ‘do you ever think her husband wonders why she is still so angry with DH? It’s like she never moved on.’  He’s a smart one.

It Doesn’t Matter it’s in the Past

Writing this has been the most I have thought about him in a few years.  I put him in my past years ago.  I let him go from my life, so I could move forward, and 6 months after making that decision I met Mr H.  If you have ever watched ‘The Lion King’ you will know the line above, the wise Monkey says it, a very wise monkey as it turns out.  Letting go of your past, letting go of anger and resentment, not allowing that to take over your life is necessary to move forward and I am glad that I didn’t let the anger I felt in 1993 to take over my life.  I’m glad I live the way I do instead of the way Ms T chose to deal with hers.

Sweetgirl x

This post is linked to Food 4 Thought #120 ‘The Road Not Taken’, click HERE to see more posts inspired by the topic.

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