I Never Loved Him

When I met my first husband, I was in a very vulnerable position. Most of my family had ostracized me for reasons I have mentioned in my previous post. I had no friends and no family support. I was renting a small room, with the only money coming in, from working for my dad helping him do handyman stuff. I had no concept of taking care of myself. I didn’t know what that was or what it meant. It was like being dropped off on an island where I didn’t speak the language and wasn’t given any tools to survive.

I had no physical attraction to my first husband. There was no chemistry at all. I was working with my dad renovating apartments at a small apartment complex. Dad was paying me $5 an hour. Back in the 80’s that was just above minimum wage. I have no idea how I even ate during that time. It wasn’t a full-time job and my dad was struggling too. He owned a pest control/construction company back in Oregon and it was pretty lucrative. When we moved to California, my dad was not able to get his contractor’s or pest control license because things were different and harder to obtain in California. He had to revert to doing handyman work, which obviously did not pay as well, plus the cost of living was and is higher than Oregon. It was like we were all drowning victims, fish out of water, here in California.

I guess it would be safe to say that I needed rescuing. I had no prospects of a future and had no idea how to find one. That faithful day when my first husband happened to end up on the exact day, to the exact apartment at the same time, just seemed like one of those “meant to be things.” He and his cousin were there to lay the carpet. It’s funny how we can make stories up in our heads, like this was “meant to be.” And maybe it was. Maybe I had to go through what I did with him for some unknown reason. To learn the lessons I needed to find ME, maybe.

As I continued to work around the two of them, while they were putting the carpet down, I’ll call my first husband Egor, would tease me a little by telling me that it was going to cost me a quarter every time I had to pass by him. I thought that was sweet and cute. I noticed he had a New York accent and I found that intriguing. We got to talking and he told me all about his motorcycle and how he was from New York and had just gotten to California a few weeks ago. I thought to myself, “ok, I’m listening.” We talked a little more after the job was done and he asked me out on a date. Again, there was no attraction there but I had no other prospects so I thought “why not.”

From all Egor’s talk and New York swagger, I thought he would pick me up for our date in a really cool car, superficial, I know. Instead, he picked me up in a big white van. I’ll admit I was disappointed. I mean, who wants to be picked up in a white van? It was brand new and very clean so I thought, ok, let’s just go with it. He took me to a nice restaurant down by the beach and we had a nice dinner. Again, I had no attraction to him, no chemistry.

During dinner he did a lot of talking and I would say, bragging about himself. He was Italian, he was from New York, he was in the Air force, and…..he was getting ready to start a six-week training course at a very big aircraft company. When I heard that, all kinds of bells went off in my head, “this is someone that could take care of me” “this sounds stable.” I thought about how I could be the good stay at home wife and he could be the good husband that went to work every day. And even though there was no romantic attraction, he “seemed” stable and like a good prospect/husband material. Yes, I came up with all this during that one date.

My mom always used to say “you can fall in love with a rich man as easily as a poor one.” And that’s what I did, well I tried. Of course rich to one person might be completely different to another, but not only was Egor 7 years older than me, but was working towards a full-time job at one of the largest aircraft manufactures in the world. The prospects of the life we could have, in my mind, were endless. I thought to myself, I can learn to or make myself love him and find him attractive over time. I had to because this is the best thing I had going at the moment. Again, I had no idea how to take care of myself, no education, no career and no support.

We dated for a while but the attraction and chemistry with him was not growing. He was a good caretaker though. He always made sure I was eating well and taking care of myself. If ever I wasn’t feeling well he was right there trying to make me feel better. He had a good sense of humor which I thought was important. I would tell myself, well at least we can laugh together. I kept thinking with those attributes that I would eventually become attracted to him and feel romantic and “fall in love.” I mean, isn’t that one of the main reasons for a relationship is to fall in love?

As some months went by, and as I had no other prospects, I began to insert myself into Egor’s life. After all, I had no life, so it was easy to take on his. He had Italian family members out here in California, he had good friends from the Air Force and he had a lot of family back in New York. I had none of that.

By this time, there was no relationship with the two sisters and mine and my dad’s relationship was a bit strained, because of them. My older sister was working with my dad too, renovating apartments and that just became too uncomfortable. I had started working for a housecleaning company and got the idea to branch out by myself. I let my current customers know this and some decided to stay with me. Somehow I had my own little housecleaning business, when I say little, I really do mean little. But it was something, and I am proud of that.

The relationship with my landlady at the room I was renting started becoming difficult. She was an alcoholic and started making a lot of new rules and complaining about little things, not to mention getting drunk every night after work. I guess it’s not too much of a surprise that I ended up with an alcoholic female landlord (as my mom was the original alcoholic in my life). Funny how it seems as if humans are always trying to work out their childhoods.

It got to a point that I really had to get out of there, so I asked Egor if I could stay with him for a while. I spent a lot of nights at his place anyway. I don’t really remember a big conversation about it, I just remember moving all my stuff into his tiny studio apartment, and there I was. I guess anything was better than being in that lonely room I was renting with an alcoholic landlord.

Egor and I started fighting pretty early on in the relationship but now that we were living together, even more so. I just didn’t really love him. I wasn’t attracted to him and I hated how he was always telling me what to do. But the sad truth is I had nowhere else to go. I didn’t know how to take care of myself.

I had broken up with Egor several times during that first year because I knew deep down I did not love him and never would. But when I broke up with him, I had nowhere to go. A very sad state of affairs and a terrible feeling when you have nowhere else to go. I was not properly prepared for adulthood or reality. One day it was like, ok you are out on your own and it was like, “huh?” We had a terrible sex life, I didn’t love him, he was always controlling me and telling me what to do and I knew a future with him would be empty. But again, I had nowhere else to go so I just decided to make it work.

We got married in a little church. My dad was able to walk me down the aisle. There were only a few of Egor’s friends and a few family members that attended for him. I had two friends, well if I can call them that, as my bridesmaids. They were people I just knew. Not really friends I could depend on. Let’s just call them acquaintances. As I was walking down the aisle, I knew this was a mistake. I knew I was marrying someone that I didn’t love and never would. It’s sad to say but at least it was something. At least I would have someone that would take care of me. As a side note; I knew how to take care of others perfectly, I just didn’t know how to take care of myself.

No one waited for us after the wedding. When we got to the after-party, it was only Egor’s friends and family there and no one really seemed to care. I can’t remember why my dad wasn’t there and my two “friends” had something else they had to do. I think we just toasted with a bottle of champagne and left. We didn’t even go on a honeymoon. So, that was it. We were married. Hopefully this would cure my deep-seated desire to belong to someone, to be a part of something, even if it was with a man I didn’t really love.

Thoughts:

I’ve always felt guilty, and even to this day, about taking care of and doing for me. I am sure that part of that is from codependency, part of it is never being taught I was valuable enough, but I wonder if also part of it is just being female?