Where It All Went Right, For Once

There comes a point in everyone's life, at least mine, where you have to put your foot down and tell someone "enough is enough."

For me, that point was almost six years ago, give or take a few weeks. Now it's time for the cliché part, because my new lease on life began when I met the girl who would become my future wife.

But how did we get there? The liberation, for starters, came from me breaking away from my own mother. A toxic parent, to some, is something that is perfectly justifiable in breaking away from. Parents are supposed to love you, tell you your enough, and let you know that anything you do is the best possible way you can do it. Sure, my mother did that. She got me and my brother both through elementary and high school, then I kept up the "good job" by pushing through almost two years of college. I took a lot of history classes and writing classes, which in turn helped me realize that all I wanted out of life was to sit behind my desk in front of my computer and write until my fingers fell off.

The first time I realized that my mother wasn't the best person she herself could have been was when I took two hits across the face after she came to collect me from an ex-girlfriends home. I went back home out of pure fear, because I knew what my mother was capable of.

I arrived back home, and then took the aforementioned two slaps across the face. I remember not staying with my ex for to much longer after that, because I was still young and obedient to my mother. My ex and I separated with an old-fashioned shouting match in her front yard, and she pulled a keychain that was two peas in a pod with the attached tag "two peas in a pod" and threw it into the yard at me. I got in my car and drove away, most likely angry and half tempted to go back and finally break away from what I was viewing as oppression.

I didn't, however, instead I drove home and told my mother that I was single again. I don't remember what she said exactly, but it was more than likely,

"Well, it's for the best."

Some things stick with you years down the road, and that was one of them. So I went on with life, continuing to work at the same job and sling pizzas from a hot oven and take home the tips from the plastic jar that sat right in front of the register on the front counter.

later down the road, it was probably around three or four months, I started getting back into the dating scene. I did the online dating scene for once, not having much experience with it, being a twenty year old kid with an inspirational quote tattoo on his left forearm. (It says "Always Move Forward" just so were clear.)

Now was about the time I met the girl who'd be my wife. I'd have to fight for her though, and it wouldn't be easy. I've learned the worst person you may ever have to fight can end up being yourself.

So, I started swinging. We met up for the first time, and I broke the ice by saying the lamest thing you could to a girl who would fall head over heels for you.

"Your not that much taller than I am." That was lie number one, because I am 5 foot 4. I am short, and she is taller than I am.

Fast forward a few weeks. We got really serious really fast, and It was only looking up from there. I met her son, who was only four at the time. The happiest day of her life was when the two men she loved most met for the first time, and her son loved me.

My mother of course took notice of this. We spent days and nights together, and my future wife easily saw that my mother wasn't the best person. My mother wasn't fond of her, though what mother enjoys the possibility of a woman taking her son away from her? If you've watched enough dramas or TV, not very many.

Let's fast forward to the selling point of this story. When I realized that I had a woman who was always going to go the extra mile for me, I decided it was time to move out. I was living with my mother and brother at the time, and this completely usurped my mothers carefully thought out plan that she only ever told herself.

Now instead of my brother and I moving in together, my mother was going to live by herself, my brother was going to live by himself, and I was going to move in with my future wife.

Does that make me the bad guy? In some cases, maybe yes. I put my family to the side for a woman that I had spent just enough time with to know that I was in love with her, and wanted to take this to the next level yet again.

On the other hand, I knew what I wanted, and at the time the freedom to be away from my toxic mother never even occurred to me. The big move stated happening, and on top of that I was changing jobs in favor of something that would pay better and help me start providing for my new family.

This was where it all stated to make sense. I started my new job thanks to my wife, and I moved into a place that wasn't with my family for the first time in twenty-one years.

Until writing this all down just now, I don't think I ever thanked my wife for pulling me out of what would have happened eventually, just with a different girl. But she had that extra kick to get me moving, and she's kept kicking for the last five years.

February six of 2022 will mark our first year of marriage, and I don't think I rather have this freedom with anyone else. That'd be a great way to wrap this up, but I've got more.

Now my wife and mother have the "on rough terms mother-in-law and wife-to-my-oldest-son dilemma." Again this relations back to many a movie where the wife and mother don't get along, but in the end of the movie they patch it up and realize the other one isn't all bad after all.

FUCK do I wish it was a movie. My mother referred to my future wife as "the girl" for the first few months we were together, and now only asks about her when she feels it's necessary. Don't get it wrong, this is a story about how I found a true freedom in life, not a slander story about my own mother. You only get one, and I love mine.

When I moved out of my mothers environment and learned that there was someone who would pull me out if I was drowning every time was when I came of age. It was freeing, it was liberating, and I would not trade it for anything in the world.

Except for the chance to make up to my wife every time I lied to her face. There were many times, and up until now I don't know why I felt so compelled to hurt her. I didn't mean for our relationship to sour over time, but no marriage is perfect. In my eyes, her not knowing the whole truth was better than me risking my neck as I stole, or lied, or cheated my way through us getting engaged, then married.

I felt like a lie was better than the painful truth. A fools endeavor is what that was, and that's why I'm still my own worst enemy.

Now, looking back at all these memories from almost six years of being together, I would indeed give up anything to go back and do it right the first time. I made numerous mistakes, and we both suffered for it.

Though now here we are. We've loved, laughed until our sides hurt, and yelled loud enough that neighbors from four streets over probably got a little worried. But hey, you live, you laughed, and your learn from your stupid mistakes to keep the girl of your dreams.

I've moved on from hate and fear, and learned that love and acceptance, no matter what, are much more rewarding. Now that's my story, and I dam well think I'll stick to it.

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful life.