Budding

[mustardseed]

Letter to the woman who stole my husband
First of all, I’d like to say thank you for taking a sociopath off my hands and for finally giving me the thing that I wished for—and thought I had for so long—to finally know the man I married fully and completely. I know he is Mr. perfect for you, he was for me too. I know that a love like yours has never felt possible before and is the true meaning of “soul mate”. Yup, that was us, too. I know that you see me through his filtered lens, and him with the mask he wears for you and think—there is no way in hell those two were ever compatible. They simply weren’t right for each other the way we are—and that illusion helps you justify what you did to my family. What you don’t get to see—as his current target—is the mask he wears with you is just that. It is designed specifically for you—and is nothing like the one he wears for me.
I say wears rather than wore, because you see, he still has that mask. Once I stopped being the “good little supply source” I saw him exposed. It was terrifying. I think you know what I am talking about. You probably see glimpses here and there but it flashes by so quickly you think you imagined it. If you react to it you are probably met with a stream of word salad that leaves you feeling both relieved and unsettled. Assured in your connection to each other, but cut down and unsure about your own state of mind. You are left feeling fortunate to be loved by him, and guilty for ever suspecting anything less—you like yourself just a little bit less and make a commitment to become better—because he deserves someone who is better.
Yes, once the mask was off as he prepped the scene for the perfect leading lady exchange that was when all of those unsettling and confusing moments were confirmed. I was not crazy. I did see what I was seeing. And who the hell is this man and what did he do to the man I had been married to all this time? You may or may not have seen that person while you two plotted against me, but it was aimed toward me and not you, and because you believe the things he says about me, I’m sure in your mind it was justified. What you probably don’t know is that his old mask that is intended just for me is back on. That is the reason why he will never be in the same space when he knows the both of us will be there. It is too difficult for him to wear both masks at the same time. And if he allows himself to be unmasked in those public settings then everyone will know the truth about him. So he is absent.
This leaves us both in the same space. Neither of us with full claims to him—which is just fine with me. Under the curious eyes of those who have heard the stories, trying to figure out the truth. We do our best to not play the roles he has cast us in—scorned wife and desperate mistress. Everyone watches trying to figure us out. Are you the evil mistress making a public play for a married man at the expense of your children and mine? Am I the pathetic wife who can’t accept the fact that my husband has moved on to someone else? We both show up with our heads held high. Taking a quite assessment of where the other is and carefully avoiding each other while both still holding on to our position in this sick world he has created—both of us committed to showing the world that we are not those women he wants the world to see us as.
I see how he is draining the life out of you. I recognize those eyes—see them on myself from old pictures back when I was “happily married to the man of my dreams”. I see the uncertainty and strain of jumping though the hoops that he keeps moving in those eyes. I see how desperately you need this to work because if it doesn’t you really were just selfish home wrecker. I know you believe him when he appeals to your need for things to settle and stabilize. How he pretends that is what he wants too. One thing I learned about him—he can’t handle stability. He thrives in chaos. And while he has you convinced that this is all a transition, and the lack of stability you feel is all due to me, the ex wife who won’t let go—who he has to coparent with and give money to, and that soon all of that will be in the past and you can finally have the happily ever after that was promised.
What you don’t know is that he will always find a way to create just a little bit of chaos—and blame others for it—even you. The more things stabilize the more withdrawn he will become and the more you will scramble to try and bring him back. The more you will try to push back just to get a response. The more you will want to get back the fairy tale that you thought you had—but you never really had it because that very notion was hidden within the turmoil. That fairy tale was just an empty box he kept out of your reach buried within the chaos. Trust me, once he lets you have the box he will have already created a new empty fairytale box with someone else. Right now he is holding that box hostage. All you need to do is believe it is really there despite never quite having access to it, and you will play his game. I remember the comfort in just knowing, believing it existed. Once we cross this hurtle, once this piece of life is settled, once these awful people leave him alone we will have it. I finally got to open the box—he threw it right in my face. And there it was—empty while he walked away with the life we built together, with you laughing by his side.
Yes it was painful, but it was also freeing. He thought he gave me an empty box, but what he gave me was the most valuable lesson I never would have learned otherwise. In the box was my dignity, my value, heart, my self-worth, all of the things I didn’t realize he had stolen from me. And getting those things back and I learned to never let anyone take it away from me again. So yes, in some ways, it was my happily ever after in that box.
I have no respect for you. I think if you were young and naïve I might be convinced that you truly believed in the fairy tale. You are aren’t either of those things. You also were a wife, you are a mother, you are middle aged, slightly older than me—there is where our similarities end. You are full of yourself. You are selfish. You are dependent—wrapped around a tough girl exterior. We are opposites in that. I represent weakness in his eyes—because I always see the good in people. Because I trust and don’t give up on people. Because I stand on the sidelines and wait to be invited. Because I am open and honest when I probably should be more guarded. I lacked boundaries, and was easily confused into reacting in ways that were turned against me. I have grown in how I handle boundaries and with my emotional responses, but I have not changed who I am at my core, because kindness is not weakness—it is strength. And kindness does not mean accepting poor treatment or denying my feelings for the comfort of others.
You are hard, tough and gruff, you speak up loudly at every perceived slight against you and have no problem inviting yourself into other people’s situations, you then complain about not being treated like a welcomed guest. In his eyes that takes balls—refreshing after his quiet, always see the bright side ex-wife. He sees it as strength, when both you and I know it is desperation and weakness. He only sees the exterior and is only concerned with the image of who we are—actually he probably knows full well how weak and broken you are inside but he is valuing this perceived strength you mask yourself in to use it to build you up and while tearing you down behind the scenes. These men always go for the complete opposite of what the leave, so I take it as a compliment that you are who he chose. His next source of supply will probably someone I like, and my heart will break to know what she has gotten herself into. But for you, I kind of enjoy watching the show—I just wish the kids weren’t in the middle of it.
So, enjoy the consolation prize while it lasts. You have a choice to allow yourself to be tortured into keeping that so-called prize to maintain the image that you were not just a desperate home wrecker, but actually found your “true love” and rescued him from his “pathetic wife”. Or you will receive the real gift, like I did. And open the empty box while he walks away with the next target. And if you can see beyond the “loss” you will find the true gift. In that moment you will reclaim the pieces of yourself that you sold for an illusion.
I really don’t care which of those paths you choose. Your happiness is not my concern. Either way you will get what you deserve. But there is some part of me that thinks I will finally receive the closest thing we will ever get to closure when it comes to loving a man like him. You opening that box and feeling some honest and humbling remorse for the role you played. I have no hope for him to ever be accountable for anything, but I guess I hold you to a higher standard. The day that you say, “I am so sorry, I had no idea,” will be the day I can finally feel closure. But I am not holding my breath. You might just be as awful as him and will somehow find a way to make yourself the victim. You will see the empty box as just that—and turn yourself inside out. You also won’t have a support system because the mistress is always a mistress even long after becoming a wife. I am learning to move on and grow without that closure, but it would be nice to get it.
It is an awful future you have accepted for yourself, and maybe as I continue to grow and rebuild I will come to the point where my heart will go out to you for the pain you will suffer. But I admit, I’m not there yet.

sincerely,
Mustard Tree