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Rituals for New Lives?

Today’s Friday challenge comes from ChumpAsItIs. She writes:

My story is the same as many others, more than 20 years of marriage, ex-husband stepped away, did not know whether he wanted to stay with me, said he loved me but needed some time to think, you know, the usual tale. He was able to make me unknowingly dance for 2 years, when I found out that he was having a 4 years affair with one of my best friends and then after D-day I got divorced in 3 months.

I was thinking that, as for other bereavement (and the term really applies because there was more than one death in this process), closure can be reached through a ritual. I have been feeling the urge to bury or burn something physical to symbolize that it is all definitely in the past, in the other life. I was wondering if you or the other in CN have done something similar, maybe that could be a Friday challenge?

Consider it done!

When I left the cheater, the only ritual I can think of was raising a drink in a local bar, by myself — within hours of having moved out on him. But it retrospect, perhaps I should’ve done some sort of voodoo, protective spell to keep him from hoovering. Or washed oxblood on my door or something. Hmm.

I’m all for rituals and getting rid of bad mojo and welcoming NEW mojo — what’s Chump Nation been up to?

TGIF!

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  • Apart from boxing up everything he had ever given me, which wasn’t much, and sending it back to him. It all fit in a shoe box. But I did feel much better afterwards..

    • I did that too. Kept a box and tossed in whatever he left behind after he moved out and then dumped it on at his back door on the morning of our divorce.

      After that, I ran across a Valentine from him and our engagement pictures.

      Burned those on the BBQ grill

  • During my Masters research, I found a few female chumps held wedding dress burning ceremonies. Most found it cathartic. Also rituals around home. Redecorating, burning sage, etc. Mostly kind of “obvious” things. I wasn’t married. Just thirty years and three kids. No dress to burn, ring to dispose of. I enjoyed making a new home, as an almost ritualistic cleansing.

  • I burned my wedding dress in the backyard firepit. Feet up on a table, lighter fluid in hand, still light outside. Thankfully, my very compassionate and understanding neighbors (who had their windows open at the time) didn’t complain about the noxious stench of beads and fake pearls melting. It was a nauseating smell. One of the most satisfying things I did post D-day Number 3. I didn’t want to give it away (or EVER save it for my daughter or someone else in the family) because I believed it had bad vibes and just needed to go. (Also ruined the firepit).

    In hindsight, maybe I should have donated it, but it felt pretty good at the time.

    • I donated mine to the theatre department at the university where I taught. After I discovered my now-ex’s secret life I figured my marriage was as much an illusion as a theatre performance, so the costume department should get it.

          • I tore my wedding dress apart, in sadness, and anger, and then dumped it in the dumpster – with the shoes, the headpiece, the returned acceptance cards, the shower cards…everything…all those stupid keepsakes…sitting in a dump heap somewhere – which is about how I felt at the time – like I was the on top of the dump heap. I was going to burn it…all of it, but…no, it was too much work. Now, looking back, I’m happy he’s gone and someone else’s tool to deal with.

            • No rituals needed. My attention is focused on my children and the wonderful woman I’m with now. The wedding dress thing does make me laugh though. I packed and payed for the movers to take all of her crap to her. I put the sealed wedding dress on top with a bright red bow on it……. Yeah I know, but it made me feel good at the time LOL. It was finality. Yes the signed decree was better, but early on this simple act made me mighty.

      • I destroyed ski equipment he wore with shmoops a few times. I don’t know why. Maybe I romanticized the events in my mind, but later found out she lied about being able to ski and had to have her bloated barfly ass hoisted by attendants with a stretcher off an intermediate slope. If I’d known that comic detail, I probably would have just donated the stuff. I hung clothes he wore on dates on the gate of a church that had services for the homeless. I saw street guys wearing some of the stuff later. Perfect.

          • I poured an unopened $100 bottle of Puerto Rican Rum, that the tart had given my husband for Christmas, down the drain. Now, I wish I saved it and drank it each time I realized how much better off I am without that narcissistic A$$!

      • I did that as well! My stress wasn’t very elaborate so I figured it could serve a few costume purposes. In terms of his wedding suit, I tore it to shreds, but not in one session. I kept it hanging in a bag and when I needed it, I would grab a knife and go to town! I also used a Sharpie to defile it. It said things like “You wore this suit while you promised to love me forever. You lied.” And worse stuff like “Go fuck your whore and leave us alone”. It became a place where I could express all my anger and sadness in a semi-creative and yet pure animalistic-like way. It felt great. I eventually just threw the shredded suit away when I was done raging.

      • I did the same with mine. My mother had seen it herself and I didn’t want to see it go to waste, so I donated it to the high school theater department.

    • I threw my wedding dress in a dumpster for the same reason- I did not want that dress to be worn by any of my 3 daughters. It was preserved in one of those boxes from the dry cleaners 30+ years ago. At that point it had moved with me during 6 moves for ex’s career, then once more for my getaway after Dday, and into a storage unit until I had gotten the kids and I all settled. There was no way I could bring that with me to my new home or donate it. I also threw away a huge canvas print a professional photographer took of our beautiful family of 6. I realized it was taken while he was cheating so seeing that smug smile with his arm around me was also trash worthy.

      • I also took down all the family photos and put them away. I haven’t put them in the garbage yet, but they are headed there. My FW also was cheating when wedding pictures and family pictures were taken. Ugly reminders.

    • _esq,

      Well, I did this same act, but from the male chump end. I think it was last summer, or the summer before that maybe, that I took the whore of an XW’s wedding dress from 1992, preserved through all our moves in a special box, and waited until our only remaining minor, my son, was away w/the FW XW and her AP former boss for a week’s vacation, and burnt it at night in the backyard fire pit we had created a few years ago at our younger daughter’s request when we moved to this last house.

      It felt good at the time, and it feels good to remember it now. One less piece of trash in what is now MY house (for better or worse. Ha! At least the house won’t betray me like she did when she exit-affaired me after almost 25 years of marriage). I don’t know that it made me mighty to do that, but it certainly made me feel better in doing it. I suppose this was my substitute for doing something w/hers and my wedding and engagement rings, which I still have.

      I’m waiting for some moment to get rid of those; don’t ask me when that is. I don’t know. I think it’s when one of my kids needs around $600-700, as that seems to be what they’re worth for the gold. Even though her engagement ring alone cost me as a poor, graduating college student over $2000 at the time, which I had to borrow from my grandmother at the time (yes, I paid her back). All to make her happy. Somebody should get something worthwhile out of those cursed objects, and why not my kids?

      Mind you, as I’ve said here before, the FW XW was pissed that I kept them, even though I had to point out to her they were missing from the stuff she came back for after moving in down the street w/her still married AP (I shit you not. Although in this forum, that’s not really that surprising, is it?). She wanted to offer them to one of our daughters, but when I asked them if either of them wanted them, it was “no way, Dad.” Can’t blame them!🤣

  • I have been entertaining “getting married to myself” 🙂

    I had been planning our wedding 3 times over the past 2 years before I called it quits among the slew of D-Days. I left six weeks after our officiale engagement, after booking our wedding venue and my wedding dress.

    So it was a big deal for me. I don’t know if I’m ever going to want to do it, but just planning it has been very fun and liberating. It would be a day dedicated to me, about committing to myself and my own journey from now on. To celebrate independence and my readiness to start a new life, perhaps with someone else.

    I’m just not there yet. But the details are 🙂 I picked my new engagement ring, I pictured a photoshoot on the beach in a white prom dress at sunset, my cake will be funfetti with vanilla frosting, I’ll set up my dinner table with balloons and glitter. No one threw me a party before and I just one LOL

    I had even picked a date (June 30, 2020), but…pandemic 🙂

    So here’s an idea out there for other chumps conducting “their own liberation campaign” 🙂

    • I like this idea. I bought myself a ring, that I wear on my left ring finger. It was kind of an impulse buy, I was at a country jewelry shop, and met the woman who makes their jewelry. She was an amazing goldsmith, and I saw this Opal ring, so beautiful. If anyone asks, oh, are you married? I tell them I’m in a relationship with myself 😊 It helps with my self-love and healing.

      • Love! I did the same. Bought myself an “independence ring”. I wear it on my right middle finger. But I think I’ll buy another for my left-hand ring finger. I also plan to take all the jewelry he gave me to a jeweler to see if I can sell it to recoup the cost of my independence rings. I could never wear the jewelry he gave me and stand up straight at the same time. It’s got to go. He never knew my jewelry style anyway.

      • I did the same. I bought myself a a cute little silicone ring that I replaced the wedding ring with. Same idea— I love myself- self love and healing.

    • How about a Chump Nation UnWedding Party? We could all do our rituals, eat funfetti cake, and bring you a nice unwedding present?

    • Hey, me too. I even bought a fab dress to marry me in, a cute boho number just right for a beach wedding. I’m planning to marry myself next summer if Covid is over and invite only lesbians, because my daughter will officiate and will announce that she is declaring me an honorary lesbian at the same time. Then me and the other lesbians we’ll have a barbecue and a dance in my gazebo. I’ll have it during Pride week of course.

      • As someone who has been accused (yes, that is the right word) of being gay by someone I refused to sleep with, may I join you as another honorary lesbian? I’ll buy you a wrist corsage and everything. 😀

        • Yeah, baby! All on board the love train. 🌈

          That’s the kind of dude who will either accuse of you of being gay or call you bitch, whore, etc. It’s like the old saying; the difference between a bitch and a whore is a whore will sleep with anyone and a bitch will sleep with anyone but *you*.
          Next time thar happens tell him you’re a bitch and explain why. 😁

  • I found boxes of skanks stuff in a trailer (idk what they are planned on doing with that?). But I had a ladies day bonfire and burned it all (except my friends made me save the pictures of her kids so I could give them to her husband). I know … twisted. Along with the wine and the bbq after (with fresh wood of course) we saged the cabin he so kindly let her live in (how convenient to have your ho right over the hill). I did have to sage my house and put up a protective circle on my property to complete the job but overall it felt great and restored the positive to my land and house. What an amazing day that was. There was no naked dancing by the fire … not enough wine 😂

    • Me and the Pup, you just brought back a memory of Cheater #1. He had put a bunch of convict ho’s clothes in the back of my (!) truck. I have no idea what he was thinking, but he was probably half drunk as usual. It did make it very easy to drive those skanky clothes over to the Goodwill to donate. The intake guy especially liked the 49ers leather jacket. I told him to take it if it wouldn’t get him in trouble. He was so happy. Catty side note: It kinda swam on him since convict ho was so fat, but I’m sure glad someone got some happiness out of that whole dumpster fire.

  • I kind of have a funny “karma/ritual” thing that happened on my Bachelorette turned divorce party in New Orleans. We had been together 12 years (we got married legally in 2020 because of the pandemic) we have postponed our big reception and bachelorette to 2021 because of all that. So when my Bachelorette in Nola came up, my girlfriends thought it would be cathartic to still go and celebrate my new life.

    When we were there we decided to all go on the “Bad Bitches of Nola Tour”. We walked around the city at night visiting famous spots where notorious women of Nola had lived, built, etc. It was amazing. The last stop was Marie Laveau’s house. The infamous healing Voodoo Queen of Nola – who some think is immortal. Our tour guide told us not to touch her house unless we wanted some of her energy. I remember going up to the house and saying a little prayer to her to keep me positive and help me get through this.

    We left Nola after an amazing trip. Not even 30 minutes after I landed at home – my STBXH’s house caught on fire LOL. No one was hurt and the fire ended up being contained but it was still bad and took our part of his kitchen. I never wish bad on people but funny is that… Voodoo Queen was looking out for me I think.

  • There were several.

    When the college kids and I moved out of the family home into a rental, I ditched the wedding dress, my bouquet, and several boxes of other wedding items. I also threw out all the cards he had given me. I made a separate trip to the dump to do that. The divorce process hadn’t yet started, but I knew it was coming. We moved to a much smaller house, so the cleanout was part practical and part personal.

    Nearly three years later, I bought a house. That has been such a joy. It is a truly lovely neighborhood, and the house is everything I hoped for and more.

  • He saved hundreds of notes and cards from me. When everything is finalized, I’m planning to burn them. I’ve been no contact, but am considering making an exception and letting him see them burn if there’s any way I can call him that he can’t record. Does anyone know if a duo call can be recorded? Or any alternative I could use?

    • I would think the fact that he would see you treating those things as something of significance to be burned would give him kibbles/make him feel central. I would burn them and not say a word or show him. That would be truly maintaining gray rock and no contact.

      • I agree I think showing that you care enough to burn things making them feel special. I’d keep it secret. I got very drunk with my friends and they supervised me while I burned photos, cards, letters and things and danced and sang “Fuck You” by Cee Lo Green. They took a video of me and it’s hilarious! But I know if he ever saw it he’d love it too. Hence keep those ragers private. And in the unlikely even mine ever asks for our box of photos I’ll say “What photos?”

    • Much of our dating and early marriage included geographical distance (pre email) so there were many letters. I had kept all of mine-to-him in one keepsake box and vice-versa. Because he is dead, my kids treasure things from him (and he rarely wrote anyone) so I didnt feel ok destroying those, but I had a box full of love letters I had written when I thought that he was a good man.

      I decided that I didn’t ever want anyone to read those letters and see the good I saw in him. My goodwill towards him was foolishly misplaced making those letters trash. In my mind, they didnt even deserve a dignified ceremony…I dumped them in the trash bin.

      In 2015 (as I was preparing for my wedding to Col Greatly) I came to learn that Cheater had been a serial adulterer. That day was filled with intensity with my most intense act being me removing the big, expensive family portrait from the foyer of our house – cursing a wild streak of F bombs- and stomping down the basement stairs to dump the portrait in a closet.

      Im going in reverse time-order here (and all the oldsters here have heard this story) but one of my ceremonious moments on D day involved the gifts I knew his “friend” had given him. One of the gifts was loose tea with rose buds in it…he had put it in my kitchen (infecting my home with the reminders of their twu lurve ). I poured the tea in my toilet and pooped on it.

        • I peed on all the corners of my property, marking my territory. Luckily I live in a sparsely populated area. I used a cup to pour it across all the entrances where there was a higher risk of being caught with my pants down!

          It must have worked because I got the house.

          • Read a short story (by Rothfuss) that suggested a little urine in their shoes. They won’t notice anything when they’re putting on their shoes, but as it warms up they’ll smell like old pee. Kinda hard to close the deal when you smell like an old diaper.

          • I’m sooooo doing this. lol

            Robin Williams once did a sketch where he said what if we claimed things by peeing on them like an animal. He walked around the stage holding a squirt-top water bottle between his legs and saying, “Nice car, Bob!” *squirt* “It’s mine now!” 🤣

        • Yeah, my WS has very specific instructions for scattering his ashes. Nope nope nope. They will go in the dumpster if I outlive him.

  • When I left my ex it was years of pick me dancing. He off and on demanded an open marriage but this time I was not taking it. He and his narc behaviors were escalating towards me and my oldest son in the months before I left and I was saving to run. I was in a meeting on MLK day 2020 WEEKS before Covid became a thing. Told my boss who is a entrepreneur exactly what was going on. He said NOW get a place NOW. I said I don’t have the money for that I am saving. He said you have the money. GO NOW. I picked my son up from the tutor and went to see an apt I had my eye on. Think high rise in a good school district with great amenities right near the kids friends and activities so they can walk themselves places on a high floor and balcony with stunning views above the treeline. My kids are teenagers and we live literally across from a community center and a mall. I told my friends what was going on. My paypal starting filling up with money. I decided to leave that day after another friend offered a swank hotel for 3 days till the apt was ready. I said to my kids…. You all know how Dad has been. I can’t stay here. You can come with me or stay here but I have to go NOW. They looked at me eyes wide and started packing. I grabbed all the important papers and some clothes. Kids grabbed their computers and some clothes. We got to the hotel and went to the restaurant where I proceeded to have a few cosmos. The kids were elated. It had always been the three of us since my ex rarely if ever came anywhere with us but for the first time I wasn’t sad he was not there I was relieved. So yeah I see that hotel and I think FREEDOM and the fact I left on MLK day is powerful to me with it’s message of FREEDOM. I come from narc family that I have no contact with so it was so amazing my friends let me leave in style as I suffered for so long in my marriage. I plan to stay at my apt till the kids graduate high school. I really love it.

      • HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA Actually what was weird is he never called till 11:30 PM!!! He came home from work and never called to see where we were. When he called I said… “I left. The kids are with me. They are safe. I am not telling you where we are and I am not talking to you tonight about it.” That was it. Yeah, I was shaking but looking back I wish I had a pic of his face. MLK day is my MIGHTY Day

    • This is a fantastic story. I wish I had the means to go at the same time you did. You did the right thing. The housing and rental markets have gotten insane. You did great! I’m smiling imagining it. How wonderful! Hopefully you eventually got every out of the house you wanted.

      • I had nothing really. I left my marriage with clothes and a broken down dining room table that I replaced soon after from FB marketplace. My friends came running. I got a couch for free that is nice. Friends brought end tables and lamps. Someone else arrived with towels. He had toys and was a hoarder. It took me 9 months to crowbar him out of the house, every weekend I went in and cleared out a room as he got mad. I got the contactors to paint and other fix up and we sold it within 1 day. He bought a house nearby but has the kids 10% of the time but since I have no family he is good enough to ask him to pick up one kid if I have to run for the other. Every time I have to drive past his house (It is on a main road) I give it the finger. That is also really helpful. Even if I have to do it on the down low because my kid is in the car. We have friends over (narc was a mess and hates people in the house) all the good stuff. My job is virtual so when I am done with kids and high school the world is my oyster!!!

  • Two things
    1) after she moved out, I got rid of our bed — it felt toxic sleeping in it.
    2) I had kept the tie I had worn on our wedding day some 16 years prior. The day my divorce was finalized I threw it away.

    Both acts were cathartic in their own way.

  • I burnt everything I felt comfortable burning. The legal things I couldn’t burn (marriage certificate and whatnot) and things I couldn’t bring myself to destroy (photos and love letters, mostly) all went in an ugly thrift store thermos picnic box thingy that I’ve duct taped up and instructed my children not to look at until I’ve passed away.

    On the day the divorce became finalized I drove around a neighborhooding town aimlessly–just up and down the residential streets sometimes sobbing, sometimes vacant. I probably could have thought of something better to do. In fact, I should look up those dates again and plan out annual celebratory things like “time for my annual massage day” or “annual spa day.”

  • Two things:
    1. It was the Halloween after our split. and I needed a costume. So I tore rips in my wedding dress, splashed it with fake blood, used makeup to put wounds on my body, and took myself to our annual small town party. Everyone loved my zombie bride getup. Very cathartic!

    2. I had a binder full of infidelity evidence, and I would occasionally flip through it to remind myself that he sucks. I finally burned the “reminder binder” in a bonfire, one page at a time, surrounded by my closest friends. Again, very cathartic!

    • Why have I kept this crap? Excellent suggestion.
      ……………had a binder full of infidelity evidence, and I would occasionally flip through it to …………….remind myself that he sucks. I finally burned the “reminder binder” in a bonfire, one ……………page at a time, surrounded by my closest friends. Again, very cathartic!

    • My attorney suggested I make a binder, she told me this is for you to help you organize what has happened. She said “I’ve got this” (without a binder). I have flipped though it so many times. I also made my own timeline of events and things that I remember even if there was no “proof”. It helped me to see things clearly. It is a great idea to burn it all once you’re done. Hopefully soon I’ll be able to.

  • Ugh.
    Besides my daily practice of ChumpLady, the most difficult ritual I do is to forgive myself for what my soon to be x and her twu wuv did to me.
    Prior to me learning of her infidelity, as she prepared to birth my daughter, I made a mala (Buddhist prayer necklace) which included a gold trinket for both mom and daughter as a remembrance of my love for them. Of course, DDay became my daughter’s birthday when ex told me of her uncertainty of the father and my world was destroyed and then ruined again when my soon to be x and her twu wuv gaslighted and harassed me to the brink of suicide— her schmoopie threatened me to keep me from the baby (DNA wasn’t ordered yet).
    You’d think I’d throw that mala in the trash, but I didn’t and I decided to hold onto it until DNA was back.
    Now, confirmed DNA (she’s mine) but schmoopie is so enraged that he is still attacking me and harassing me and my ex is so repulsive that I know she sucks, but … I still hold on and cherish my mala. Why?

    My daughter’s trinket worn and tarnished from me handling it and my x’s trinket worn and tarnished only because I chose to keep it on my mala as a reminder that she is repulsive trash— worse yet is her schmoopie adopted Buddhist words and flags to impress my x, she used to mock my Buddhist practice).
    But … keeping my x’s trinket on my mala also empowers me because I can put all my fear and hatred into that piece of gold and the worst that happens to me is I’m one step closer to Tuesday and when I see or feel her trinket I’m closer to meh while my daughter’s trinket keeps me close to her — I’ve only seen her once since she was born in March.
    Whew.

      • Ha, yeah it is really sad. I can’t express the pain that I went through in March because I’d never felt anything like it before– horrible, horrific. But, I look back and CL is right. Everything she says is true and it helps me heal. Everyday I’m a better and mightier me.
        Hugs from the NYC

        • Xioba xioba

          Hugs to you… it’s horrible to go through all that, cheaters have no shame..
          We have 3 kids together – and between each kid, during my pregnancies- my h was seeing hookers etc.
          The moment I realized that he was not only screwing me up, but was repeatedly endangering my life and life of our 3 kids… I was done.
          Every time I looked at my girls my mind was creating horrific outcomes and possibilities…
          They are healthy, but only because of some cosmic luck.
          I haven’t even drink coffee, limited my sugar intake and haven’t had a one drink …. And my h was consciously fucking hookers/ having sex with me while pregnant.
          I’m glad that your little girl will be able to find have a safe harbor and a sane parent in you.
          At least that

    • That is truly sad but inspiring on your part!
      Keeping with a jewelry theme..

      My therapist suggested I find something to celebrate overcoming the disaster that was infidelity and all that came with it.

      Healing took many years, hard work on my part and the beautiful gift of time.

      One day I was inspired to create a piece of jewelry. I had some stones from a previous sentimental piece that predated my marriage. I found a jeweler who used a 3D printer to make the specific design that I wanted.

      I put that piece on and I feel like a proud warrior, invincible and strong.

    • XX, you are mighty and I respect how you have conducted yourself with dignity while those around you crawled in the muck

      • Unicornomore, thank you for your kind words— I do not feel mighty. I danced the pick me dance with my ex after the birth and I was not mighty then and am still licking my wounds. Heartbreak and shit sandwiches.
        Have a glorious weekend.

  • I kept a box of salt for years in my curio cabinet to remind me to never let an asshole treat me like shit again.

    “He had screamed at me for at least five minutes on how stupid I was to run out of salt” Then he ordered me to go buy ten boxes of salt, and I was so scared and confused, I did it.

    • Wow. Unbelievable. Your ex truly sucks. Sorry but good for you — I hope that salt is extra salty 😉

      • Ha, I finally tossed it.

        My husband asked why I was keeping salt in the curio cabinet. I told him and he understood, but suggested I put it in a sealed container so that it would not corrode other things, by that time I was ready to toss it.

        Yes my ex was a selfish asshole for a long time. Though I only became aware in the last year.

        He got his in fairly short time, but of course it didn’t take away the pain.

        All in all after the D, I have been blessed.

  • On the date of our anniversary after I left my fetish cross-dresser-“Janey”-come-lately “I’m transgendered!” ex, who had been “exploring” himself with an ex-student, I burned a print I’d bought for him when I was in naked “Oh, I can remake my sexuality and become a lesbian for you” pick-me-dance mode. It showed a naked androgynous person stripped of skin showing only muscles and bones standing in front of an open closet full of women’s clothes, with a mirror to one side.
    My best friend was there with me; she was the only person I’d told (after I lived a year and a half in his closet following his revelation of all this, including the information that for years he’d been pilfering my lingerie and wearing it). She had the presence of mind to film it: me lighting the print on fire and the print burning.
    Weirdly, one part of the print didn’t burn, only singed and blackened around the edges: the androgynous figure itself. Maybe fitting, as he’s still in the closet, dressing up and wanking off to himself, pretending he’s a lesbian and fixating on the younger women faculty who have no clue how he fantasizes he both is and is fucking them.
    Still, it was hugely satisfying to burn that print, and felt like the first step to shaking off his crazy and coming back to myself.

    • Oh my god. I feel like your husband could be with my husband and they would end up happily ever after. My husband left me for a transgender woman…
      I am very accepting of others, so I tried at first to say I would have an open marriage and let him go get his fantasy fix because it was only physical. And then.. the truth bombs continued until he finally said he loves me but he also loves her. I need to figure out a ritual to get rid of him.

      • Yes being dumped for sexual fetishes is its own kind of hell. Sorry. On the one hand, you know you can’t be what they need, but the pain of why they chose to marry you and lie is horrible. Hugs to chumps that had fetish cheaters. They suck

        • Preach it! It is it’s own kind of hell.. especially doing the cheater dance with “I’m confused and I only want transgender women from now on” (ok, clean break, I can handle that) to “It’s always been you and you’re what really gets me off” (Ok, so now you’re saying it’s just a sexual fetish and you’re over it?).

          It’s all the lies that really get you.. especially as a person that values honesty, integrity, and loyalty. So, this wasn’t new? It’s been something you’ve dabbled in for 15 years? Why try to marry and create a life with a straight woman then? Get some therapy bro!

      • Survived

        Cheating is cheating.
        For me it didn’t matter- a hooker, a trans, a guy, whoever.
        It didn’t matter.
        Fetish? Whatever
        Lies, gaslighting, anger, fucking with my head- all that was present regardless of the person he was cheating on me with.
        It doesn’t matter.
        It has nothing to do with us.

        • Elio, You are so very right.. It doesn’t matter and it has nothing to do with us.

          A cheater’s treatment of you is a reflection of how they feel about themselves. They do not feel they are worth good treatment, so they reflect that back on you. At very least, we can all walk away knowing that we treated others as we wished to be treated.. AND WE ARE GOOD PEOPLE! Just with bad pickers.

          Purged a bunch of stuff today.. Luckily.. I pretty much bought EVERYTHING.. so I am using that as my filter to which I view the house and all that is in it. I have one gift from him, that was bought in the first few months we were together.. perhaps the only thoughtful gift ever.. With pictures of us on one side, with my parents and me on the other (as they have passed on) with some quotes… I thought about trashing it or burning it because it is wood. But instead, it now sits on my TV stand with the him pictures facing the wall. It’s now a reminder of my own family he never met, but also my one last piece of evidence at how shitty he was and the love bombing phase. Hiding in plain sight. Damn it feels good to be a gangster.

  • We had one of those pictures at our wedding where guests sign the mat that surrounds it… that went to the curb for trash night the first night he was coming for “visitation” with our son.

    Then, about three months later, I sold my engagement ring to sign-up for a trip to Hawaii with my son.

    Later, after I packed up his shit and moved it all to the garage (he was refusing it until the divorce was final because “his name was on the deed”), I got rid of our bedroom furniture, repainted the entire room and bought a new set (interest free financing was very helpful!).

    Finally, I burned sage in every room… it may sound silly, but it felt great 🙂

    My walls sing thanks to CL and CN… Rock on Chump Nation, you’ve got this!

    • I haven’t given my rings back either. I plan to sell them for a trip too.

      I really contemplated given them back when I last packed all his shit and took our family photos and threw them in the trash as he packed the rest. But then I thought these literally were one of the only things he actually purchased for me of any worth over the years. I’m not giving them to him to try to pass off on his next. Fuck that.

      • Good for you – truly, they are yours… you deserve to sell them and do something special just for you! Can’t wait to hear what you decide to do for you!

        Rock on – you’re Meh is out here… mine came on a Tuesday!

    • I haven’t given my rings back either. I plan to sell them for a trip too.

      I really contemplated given them back when I last packed all his shit and took our family photos and threw them in the trash as he packed the rest. But then I thought these literally were one of the only things he actually purchased for me of any worth over the years. I’m not giving them to him to try to pass off on his next. Fuck that.

    • Does anyone have any tips or pointers on what to do or avoid when selling wedding rings? I’ve heard that jewelers often take advantage of the heartbroken by underpaying.

      • I don’t think they are particular of who they take advantage of.

        As another poster said, if they can’t make a huge profit, they don’t want to mess with it. That is why they will only pay low prices. In a way I get it, because any ring is only worth what someone will pay for it and used rings just don’t carry the value unless they are indeed a really flawless heirloom type of jewelry.

        My guess is they reset most of them, and re sell them as new.

        I would try to sell them via via co sign on someone’s Etsy site or something similar to that.

        • I work in the antiques/jewellery business (not an expert myself but I work with specialists so have learned a thing or two). The jewellers are not taking advantage. They are only paying the whole sale price. They get jewellery for much lower prices than they sell them for (there is a terrible mark up with jewellers). So they only buy jewellery back at the whole sale/real value price. You’re better off buying jewellery at auctions where you will get these lower prices as well (not as low as whole sale though). Only buy 18K and up gold. Anything below 18K is not that valuable.

          • Yes I clarified that in my second paragraph.

            Having said that there are reputable jewelry dealers and there are non reputable ones. Just like any other business.

            So buyer/seller beware.

  • I bought an inexpensive but beautiful artisan ring. I wear it on the third finger of my left hand as a symbol of my commitment to never settle for a fuckwit again.

  • About a week after I left him I burned all 14 of the cards and letters he had sent to me over a 33 year marriage and a 35 year relationship. That is right, 14! LTC Fuckface managed through great personal effort to give me less than one card or letter every other year. He was all in. I burned all 14 and threw in the Irish Linen handkerchief I carried when we were married. It didn’t even make a big fire.

    This reminded me after he returned from 18 months tour in the Kingdom of Saudia Arabia discovering he didn’t open the letters I had written him. We had two babies at the time and I had very little time yet still managed to write him weekly. He showed his appreciation by not even opening those letters filled with photographs and sketches of our children. He was too busy.

    Fuck him. He sucks.

    • Oh. My. God. What kind of monster doesn’t open letters with photographs of his young children? I can’t even imagine. My ex was terrible, but even he wouldn’t have done that. You’re right about your ex. He sucks.

      • The same type of parent who goes through every box in the house during division of marital property, sees the box of negatives and photo albums yet doesn’t take any photos of their children when they leave. Not one.

        • My ex didn’t even think of pics when he walked out, he was following his dick to hotter pastures; he didn’t need that shit.

          A few years later, I sorted all our pictures and pulled all the one where he was in the pictures, and any pictures I had of him mom and dad. Told my son to make copies for himself and he could give them to his dad if he wanted to.

          A couple years ago I handed over most of the pictures to my son and said go through and keep what you want, scan them into your album. I told him he could give his dad whatever he wanted. He still has them. He said he didn’t trust his dad to take care of them.

          Thank goodness because his dad is gone now, and since he and his wife likely won’t ever see her again, they would be gone.

          He has all that he wants in a cloud though.

        • Saffa….Mine didnt take any pictures of his 2 daughters either…..but he did take his hunting clothes and deer meat he had in the freezer……..sick fuck

        • That’s got to be more common than we think. As far as I know, my ex didn’t take any pictures of the kids with him, either. Even the pictures he had when he moved in with me, a few of him as a kid, others of the last few years before we met, he left behind.

          His pictures, I put in the boxes I packed up (he also wouldn’t take his stuff out, other than clothes and the few things he needed immediately), that he finally picked up 5 YEARS after we separated, when the family home was sold.

          The ones of the kids? Kept ’em all.

          His behaviour post-separation, unfortunately, showed the kids how little he actually cared for them or thought about them and their needs. Turns out I had been propping that relationship up, and it couldn’t stand on its own. His not bothering to take the photos was a sign….

    • OMG. Any decent man would be thrilled to get those letters and that would be his reason for living. He does suck. Sorry

    • What an a-hole. The one deployment klootzak went on was a great kibble source for him. They seem to forget they are married.

      Toward the end of his career, klootzak was forced by the military to complete paperwork and turn it in, telling them how to handle things in case he passed while overseas. (He was in a deployable position at that point, but never deployed.) I came across the folder which had a sticker on the front telling him to complete and discuss it all with his spouse. Apparently the Navy didn’t want the spouse being surprised by any of the decisions later. I read through the papers and put them back carefully. He never discussed them with me or even mentioned them. Long story short, if he died in the Middle East, all of his personal effects that were with him would go to his sister. His phone, wedding ring, everything to his sister. And he said that his sister was to claim his body when it would be returned to Dover. Nothing to me. Everything to his sister. My son was 2.5 years old when he completed that paperwork.

      Early when we were married, I had found out he had his sister listed as the beneficiary of his military life insurance, too. Even though I was listed with the Navy as his spouse, no change was made to the beneficiary of the policy. When I found out, I assumed it was a mistake and told him he must have forgotten to change it but his response was that no, he wanted his sister to get it. I told him then fine, I was going to switch my policies to my mother and not him but I needed his signature to change it because it was a requirement. He wouldn’t sign.

      So 11 years later as I stood reading paperwork where he was leaving nothing behind to me if he died, I thought F him. If he dies today, he will be cremated and the remains will be (with approval) scattered in a nondescript location somewhere a thousand miles away where he will never be visited or remembered. No afterlife kibbles. He hates cold weather. I am thinking North Dakota would be a pretty good place.

  • I immediately bought all new linens and threw out anything he slept on (kept the mattress because I couldn’t afford new at the time).

    And his Scotch collection… I donated every bottle to the local Chabad (my Chabad has “soup and Scotch” nights on some Shabbat/Friday nights)….with the exception of ONE bottle. There was a $250 bottle of Johnny Walker Blue that I had engraved with “To FW, Great Husband and Father” for Father’s Day one year. I drink Scotch, but couldn’t bear to keep it or give it to anyone (and during the year leading to my divorce, I made a deal with myself not to drink at all).

    I picked up the bottle, poured the the contents (nearly full) down the sink… and simply threw the bottle in the trash. I still smile every time I think of it. It was so cleansing for my soul.

    • The new linens.. me as well.. What a glorious feeling. I kept the bed too.. but I purchased it anyways so.. meh. I did what I saw somebody else post though, I switched sides, and sometimes slept in the middle of my Super King bed.. sometimes diagonal.. no space for him.

        • Yep, and then add one of those foam toppers.

          They are amazing and a good one cost about 100 dollars. Mine is 4 inches thick and it cost about 125. But, I recommend a two or three inch one, which will be less.

          My ex bought a king size water bed about two years before he left me for the whore. In the temp separation I got all the furniture. I sold that sucker for 300 dollars (it cost almost a thousand). I know the asshole brought the whore to the house.

          When he found out I sold it he freaked. I just said, I am not asking you what you are doing, you stay out of my business. He shut up.

          Hope his few fucks with the whore in the WB was worth a thousand buck to him. He could have bought a couple high end hookers for that, instead of a short fat dog catcher.

  • The only ritual that gives my ex any centrality is my nightly sigh of relief and gratitude that I am not going to sleep beside a deceitful abuser. Somehow, anything sentimental associated with that FW feels odd and unnecessary now. Mementos, photos, songs, places that would previously (like, six months ago) have tugged at my heartstrings or opened emotional floodgates just leave me blank now. I thought that reclaiming special spots would be ritualistic, but instead, it’s pretty low key and I just stay focused on who and where I am in the moment (though working through triggers can take some breathing, and sometimes I learn I’m not quite ready yet).

    I guess my rituals aren’t about letting go of a fuckwit at this point in my chump recovery. (I’ve already deleted, burned or returned almost everything related to that shark.) My current rituals are all about gaining a life and trying to feel pleasure, peace and connection again: budgeting for massage, buying a nice bedspread, always having a small bouquet on my table, welcoming guests into my very own space, making something special for someone I love. Paying off my car, signing my new contract, and maintaining a 4.0 GPA have felt pretty celebratory and significant, too. I can’t forget my CL routine – though this one feels like a compulsion rather than a choice! (Late winter/early spring, I clung to CL like a life raft. Still spend an inordinate amount of time reading and commenting and mentally engaging in the topics, but I’ve been inoculated and fortified by CL/CN and could survive without it at this point.)

  • It’s an ongoing process for me, like cleaning and dressing a wound. Here are the first things I thought of:

    1) I had designed my wedding ring and I gave it back to him when we met for the first mediation session. I did not want the money from it (which is always minimal compared to what you paid) and I did not want to turn it into something else. I consider the materials contaminated. He paid for it and it was the right method of disposal for me. I then married myself with a London Blue topaz ring, oval cut surrounded by white sapphires. Blue for “true blue”, as in, I will never forsake myself or lie to myself. I made my wedding vows to myself and sapphires are my birthstone. I got compliments often on my wedding ring but way more on the London Blue topaz ring. Better energy.

    2) I printed out his FB profile picture, write whatever I want on it in Sharpie, and burn it in my fire pit whenever anger strikes. Same for a picture of the Craigslist Cockroach.

    3) I paid for a high-end detail on two of my cars I believe the Craigslist Cockroach was in. I love my cars and can’t replace them.

  • Switching the side of the bed I slept on. This one thing singlehandedly changed my relationship to a space I had previously felt trapped in.

    • I have often slept on my stomach with my face smooshed down on my pillow, hoping if I ever tried to talk in my sleep it would keep my mouth shut. I was terrified of tipping my hand that I was planning escape because I had some vivid dreams of being free. Now I sleep in a different room but still on my face. Someday when he is out of here, I’ll go back to sleeping on my side and back!

      • I too sleep on a couch for past year. Got a binder full of infidelity but have not pulled it out yet. Watching her step into the traps is gratifying nearly made today D day but backed down and let her feel vindicated that I’m a no fun loser who has no self esteem. Is it healthy to work toward Meh, and Tuesday without blowing it up first?

        • I would think it is very healthy for you. Maybe not for fw, but who cares. They didn’t care about us.

          I wish I had picked up on the red flag of him pushing me away soon after his big promotion. I wish I had just recognized it as a danger sign and took my moving forward underground.

          I think I knew he was cheating by then, but my mind wouldn’t accept what my gut was telling me. I could have blown his ass right out of the water if I had acted on it. As it was someone else blew his ass out of the water. Will never know who dropped a dime on him, but I am glad they did. I just wish they had before I had gone through several months of raging asshole and being scared and confused.

  • There was a lake nearby that he and I would take our dogs to. I went to that lake and had a backwards wedding vow ceremony. My vows were to myself… out on the levy, no one around, I shouted my vows as loud as I could.. something like this…

    I will never let anyone treat me poorly again!
    I will never accept less than what I deserve!
    I will value myself so others learn to value me as well.
    I will forgive myself for loving someone when I knew it was not reciprocated.
    I will not ever listen to words; I will listen to actions.
    I will never let anyone yell at me, gaslight me or otherwise abuse me again
    I will never let anyone make me feel not good enough again,…..

    I’m sure there were a few more,…

    Turn I ceremoniously threw his wedding ring in the lake, that he left sitting on his desk, in his office. Just the fact he left the ring for me to see, exemplifies the amount of cruelty this man heaped on me.

    • This sounds like a wonderful ceremony! I may try it. FWIW, my X kept “losing” his ring (he’s a doc and said he had to take it off for procedures. Uh huh). Chump that I am, I bought him 3 replacement rings over the 7 years he was having an affair. All were “lost.” Uh huh

  • I advertised and sold everything that came from sparkledick’s family that was in my house that he did not ask for after the divorce was final.

    Symbolically, the first thing to go was sparkle’s mother’s old Singer sewing machine: it went to a cheater and his floozie who were setting up and decorating their little love nest. They showed up at 10 am with floozie wearing a mini-skirt, heavy makeup and stilettos and she nearly broke her neck carrying the machine with cheater down two flights of stairs.

    I just sat watching them with my arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction. I couldn’t believe the irony of it.

  • I treat myself to something nice on the anniversary of the divorce being finalised. Nothing too expensive or crazy, but just a way celebrating my freedom.

    LFTT

  • Personally, I prefer creativity. About once every year or so I discover some sort of project that I want to do. It is usually a personal endeavor that will stretch my technical knowledge and abilities. During my marriage I was “allowed” to start such projects, which were done at home and budgeted through my “allowance”, but I was often discouraged from completing them. In later years, my endeavors were turned against me as my cheater told me the few hours a week I would spend on such projects were taking time away time and attention from her. Never mind that she was going to the bar several nights a week with her “best friend”.

    Now that I am no longer facing this controlling abuse, I am freely pursuing my endeavors once again. I spent a year working on my first knitting project, I performed a Mozart concert aria that I had always wanted to sing, I converted some antique oil lamps into electric lamps using retro LED light bulbs, and I am now working on my first piece of functional steampunk art using parts from vintage radio consoles. None of these projects are taking time and money away from my children, and they are helping me deal with COVID isolation and the times my children are not with me.

    • You rock!!

      And yes creativity has been a great outlet for me after several bad relationships, too!

      On my D-day I drew how I felt. It was actually a friend of mine who suggested that and it worked super well. I drew several states of emotions in a really simplistic, non-esthetic way but the images cover really well the way I felt. I sometimes look back at them as a reminder of what he put me through (when I was still sometimes longing for him).

  • When I got married back in 1984 I had champagne glasses engraved with our names and the date. After the divorce I broke those suckers and threw them away. It was very satisfying.

    • The glass wedding goblet was tossed out of one of the attic windows, smashed to smithereens on the patio.

    • Same! Bought a bottle of good champagne, drank it, then used the bottle to smash both of the glasses to bits. It felt gooooood.

  • The day my ex moved out happened to the the day a friend was throwing a house party (with kids). The party had been planned for months, and we had intended to go as a family. Apparently ex planned to go to the party anyway. My friend said if I couldn’t gather the nerve to tell him not to go, she’d be happy to uninvited him. That day happened to be 2 days before my birthday, and I thought it was a great birthday present to me. Every year since then I’ve thought of that day as my Freedom Day, and I try to celebrate it in some small way. I usually simply raise a toast to myself, and sometimes I celebrate with friends.

  • I threw away or immediately boxed anything sentimental during move. I was operating on automatic pilot except for financial/legal documents.

    I only moved furniture and belongings which I came into marriage with and have felt comfortable and comforted surrounded by family antiques.

    I purchased scented candles which my ex could not tolerate. New bed and new linens, too.

    At 65 years old, and having cleared out family members’ homes, I know to purge things just to be practical. Bonfire or trash when I’m closer to “meh”.

        • Another candles fest here. One of his many allergies – candles! And flowers, and pets, and anything else that made home a warm and cosy sanctuary. I do not miss his miserable presence one tiny bit.

          I enjoy tip runs with a car full of stuff on a regular basis (2 years out this week and 2 tip runs yesterday). He was a hoarder and I managed to dump most of his hoard back on him during the saga that was getting him to collect the stuff he left behind. Not carrying that dead weight of hundreds of books, for example, round with me has opened up my home and my mental headspace.My goodness that man was and, so I’m told, still is a joy and energy drainer. The OW must be crazy because she went round the block with him twice before, 30 years ago, and dumped him twice. Bonkers! Hope she enjoys his late 50s into his old age. 😂

  • I redecorated my house; it looks completely different from when he lived here. Getting rid of the marital bed was a huge part of this effort.

    I’m considering replacing my dishes and flatware, even though I still really like both. I want nothing that was in his mouth in this house. Bad enough I have to live with the fact that his mouth was on me, after coming home from being with prostitutes.

    I sold my wedding rings and bought myself a beautiful diamond right-hand ring. (Although it fits better on my left middle finger. The irony of that is not lost on me.) While I was buying that ring, I found out that he’d bought his massage parlor whore Schmoopie her wedding ring at the same store. The same store where we bought my upgraded wedding set five years ago, and where he bought me multiple pieces as gifts over the years. The Fuckwit has no shame! The sales woman felt embarrassed for me, I think, and apologized for letting that info slip. No need for that, I told her. I was certain the ring I was buying for myself was nicer than anything he could afford to buy her. She didn’t disagree.

    Living well is the best revenge.

    • Yep. Gave my son our rings to sell for his ring for fiance. FW was dead by then. I sold any other gold jewelry from him (chains, charms) for scrap gold value.

      And I went crazy and bought myself a solitaire diamond right hand ring. Size and cut that I WANTED! A little over the top, but its the only diamond I own anymore. And ya, it does sorta feel like I married myself!

  • I’m in a similar situation. Married 20 years and discovered his secret life of prostitutes during work trips. Knew we didn’t have the perfect marriage but THIS? Worse part was my teenage sons found the emails of him ordering whores online. It’s been 9 months and I still hyperventilate every day. He’s been out of the house 4 months now and we are trying to reconcile-I guess. Been doing a lot of reading and realized early on that the previous marriage is dead. Don’t wear ring-he still does. I constantly say “why do you feel you can wear that? You shit all over what that ring represents.” Took wedding portrait off wall and punched it. Will be burning that along with decoration I sewed with our names and the date of the wedding. He is just now realizing this is serious and only beginning to understand the pain and destruction he has caused. He’s mopey and depressed. It’s not my job to fix him when I’m struggling with my five kids. Anyone out there deal with partner cheating by paying for sex? Really digging deep for the inner strength I used to have. My entire life has to be redirected now and it’s scary as shit!

    • The sort of betrayal you are suffering is different than mine but please accept my sincere condolences – I think the path you are walking is hard. The degree of biohazards danger he chose to put you in is chilling. You also didnt knowingly consent to exposure to disease thus I consider his behavior biohazards rape.

      I hope that you are well/healthy and can completely cut that vermin from your life

    • Hi, BTAWC. There are plenty of us here who were Chumped by these freaks. Mine left for a massage parlor whore. He’s actually married to her now. Married her before the ink was even dry on our divorce. When he finally admitted there was another woman and admitted to who (and what) she was, he swore it was an isolated incident. That he only went to the massage parlor because of his bad back and he hadn’t meant for anything to happen. And stupid me, I believed it.

      We had a short-lived reconciliation. He agreed to, and actually begged to have a tracking app installed on his phone if I’d agree to reconcile. It lasted all of a couple of weeks. I HATED being the marriage warden. He constantly turned off the tracking app, feigning ignorance on how to use it. 🙄 The reconciliation ended when I found him hiding in a closet talking to massage parlor whore Schmoopie.

      I found out later that it wasn’t just the magical power of massage girl Schmoopie’s pussy that led him to stray. Without going into too much detail, I found out later from law enforcement officials that he has been cruising a notorious red light district in our area, picking up prostitutes off the street. This was going back for at least the past several years, although I have no doubt it was much longer than that. He says he has a sex addiction and he needs to have sex every day. Sorry, but as Chumplady puts it, I cannot be a smorgasbord of pussy for him.

      It’s disgusting and humiliating. I will never forget the humiliation of having to go in to be tested for STDs. (I hope you’ve been tested!) We did not have a sexless marriage, although he told all of his friends and the pastoral staff at our church (!) that we had been living as roommates for the past 10 years. A blatant lie.

      It IS hard and scary to rebuild your life after such a betrayal. I’m an empty nester, so I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you with five children. Please hire a good lawyer and get everything that you have coming to you & your children. Hopefully you do not live in a no-fault state, although it is still possible to get a good settlement if you do. I did, but mostly because he was too stupid to hire his own representation.

      Not gonna lie. It will be rough before it gets better. But my life is so much better now, Fuckwit free. My reconciliation after D day was only for a couple of weeks, but that was enough for me. Believe me, I understand that feeling of anxiety and the hyperventilation, trying to reconcile with a lowlife who pays for sex. The revulsion I felt when he wanted to be intimate with me, post D day. I can’t imagine ever living that way again. It’s been over two years for me, and I am finally starting to feel better. Not quite to Meh, but getting there. You WILL get there too!

    • Yes, you are better than a…! I would urge you to think again about reconciling. I don’t think it works out for many people. I tried, there were so many promises, everything I wanted to hear, but at the end of many months of struggle, and living in the hell he created, it was all just talk. He was contacting last AP almost daily. I felt like a total fool. Very much wish I had stayed away from him.
      Now, if you’re already living together, you could use the time to find your lawyer, and get ready to go, and get a therapist experienced in domestic violence, and abuse. But really, you’re living with the enemy, and it’s way too stressful. Just my opinion, and best of luck to you!

    • If you can’t trust him, don’t waste time and energy on him. Is he sorry for what he did, or just sorry he got caught? (Sorry he got caught is much more likely.)

      • That’s the thing isn’t it, whether it is a spouse, business associate, or a friend, once you know they are liars; how do you know they are not pulling another con for their own advantage. I think it is more likely they are, than that they are not.

        So hard to accept in the beginning though. I know for a few weeks, I wanted to wake up out of the nightmare and see the person I loved. There was not such person, except in my mind.

        Luckily he helped me to see that by being such a colossal asshole, not only to me but to his work situation. He was firmly outed and I could not hide it from myself.

  • One year after my sister’s divorce, we were at the beach and had a “jump the broom — backwards” ceremony (but we used an oar). Just a few friends and champagne.

  • First I burned all the cards and letters he had sent me over the years that were filled with lies. Blocked him and every single one of “our” friends on all social media. Removed anything that reminded me of him in any way from my personal space.

    Then I made an inspiration board to look at when I was feeling at my lowest. I pasted pictures, quotes, images of things I wanted my life to have in it. Not just material things, but things that gave me the emotion and feelings I wanted to cultivate in my daily life. It was helpful to look at that and work towards that goal, instead of dwelling on the detritus of the past.

  • Before I knew he was cheating with a ho-worker, he had been working out of town and bought me a gift, a print of a woman with straight brown hair. I thought it was a bit odd and said, “Why did you get this? It doesn’t even look like me.” I have very curly hair. He said he just liked it and I should get a frame. Well, fast forward to a week later when he told me he was in love and the howorker was his soulmate and our 30 yr marriage was a mistake. I did a bit of searching, found the ho-worker on FB and was SHOCKED to see that she looked EXACTLY like the print of the woman he brought home, that he had the callous audacity to want me to frame and put on the wall in MY HOME. (She was/is a husband poacher.) I filed for divorce within a month of discovering his double life. I burned the picture in the fireplace, had a shamanic practitioner do a cleansing ritual of the house (discovered he was doing a lot of porn) and garden, but kept the gifts he bought for her that I found along with the burner phone as evidence in the divorce in case I needed it. He delayed the divorce for 3.5 years until the judge set a trial date, then it was over fast, cos he was afraid of all the financial discovery. The picture of her lookalike hanging on the wall was so cruel. So insane. Yes, he’s a narcissist and a sociopath but I’ve been no contact for 18 months. PS That soulmate love didn’t last long, but he went on to another soulmate, a high school gf, and that didn’t last long either.

  • Moving out into my cute little rental with only my kids, my cat and my essential stuff was hugely cathartic to start.

    XFW had walked out on us taking almost nothing to stay with a “friend” 🙄. No plan to get a place where our two young kids could stay, so he would show up a couple of days a week to see the kids. I was confused still, somewhat pick me dancing, and was trying to make it less painful for the kids so I let him and would leave the house to give them some time. That was not great. After a couple of months of this nonsense, with him always finding excuses why he wasn’t finding a place to rent I told him: “look, this isn’t working. Why don’t we both start looking for places and the first one who finds it moves out, the other one stays in the old house”. Within a week I had visited a few cute places with the kids, picked one, signed and arranged the move. I left all his crap behind for him to deal with. He was a semi hoarder who always picked up hobbies and never got rid of anything. After months of being stuck in limbo in a place I hated it felt so good to leave it all behind and decorate our new, uncluttered place with the kids. I invited a lot of friends over and made the separation official, the kids had a lot of parties and sleepovers with their friends. The new place has great vibes and memories already.

    After that every time XFW would do something that would enrage me or some of his past nastiness would bubble up, I would write it down on a piece of paper and burn it on the BBQ in my cute little backyard.

  • For a while I couldn’t figure out what to do with my wedding rings (my mom has them currently) but I decided I will sell them and use the money to pay for nursing school, which I will be starting in January.

    Goodbye symbol of commitment in my old life, hello money for the next step in my new life.

  • I am 4 years post D-Day. The absolutely amazing woman I am now dating is 3+ years post D-Day. Her story is similar to mine, 20++ years of marriage, kids, cheating spouse, pick-me dancing, tried reconciliation….. About a year into our relationship, we discovered an odd coincidence. We were both married on the same day (6 years apart). What are the chances we would share a wedding anniversary? We have therefore decided that November 18th will now forever be known & celebrated as National Fuck-You Day! Our own little holiday where we get to celebrate our freedom & a new life together.

  • In the roughly four and a half years I spent with the Lying Cheating Loser, the D-days were almost constant. Two years in, I knew I had to leave him. But as all chumps know, trauma bonding is real, and I was very attached to my cherished outcomes.
    Eventually I started lining up my ducks. Made a plan with my landlord who promised me one of his smaller units. About two weeks before moving day, LCL still did not believe I would ever leave him, despite having clearly communicated to him that things had to change or I refused to go on. One particular morning, we had our last fruitless circular discussion about the state of our relationship. Driving to work, I called my landlord and gave him the green light to put the for lease sign in our yard. And that’s how the Lying Cheating Loser found out that the jig was up.
    I moved into the other rental, and he moved in with his parents 5 hours away (in his mid 30s, abandoning his two teenagers who lived with their mom near us).
    About 6 months later, I started looking for an auction property to buy. I wanted to get away from all the bad memories that still echoed through the town where I had lived with the LCL. Even before I closed on my dream cottage in a different town 100 miles away (a 1930 brick Tudor Revival) I started collecting and making furnishings and art for it. I painted a sign that reads, “your walls will sing” and I remade a large piece of salvage wood that had hung in our master bedroom with LOVE in mismatched letters affixed to it.
    I handpainted the poem below on it, and it hangs in my pretty little cottage to this day.

    Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell

    leaving is not enough; you must
    stay gone. train your heart
    like a dog. change the locks
    even on the house he’s never
    visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
    you have an apartment
    just your size. a bathtub
    full of tea. a heart the size
    of Arizona, but not nearly
    so arid. don’t wish away
    your cracked past, your
    crooked toes, your problems
    are papier mache puppets
    you made or bought because the vendor
    at the market was so compelling you just
    had to have them. you had to have him.
    and you did. and now you pull down
    the bridge between your houses.
    you make him call before
    he visits, you take a lover
    for granted, you take
    a lover who looks at you
    like maybe you are magic. make
    the first bottle you consume
    in this place a relic. place it
    on whatever altar you fashion
    with a knife and five cranberries.
    don’t lose too much weight.
    stupid girls are always trying
    to disappear as revenge. and you
    are not stupid. you loved a man
    with more hands than a parade
    of beggars, and here you stand. heart
    like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
    heart leaking something so strong
    they can smell it in the street.

  • I cursed them. Literally. Yes, it sounds silly but let’s just say my family has some really weird traditions that go way back. The last (and only other) time I cursed somebody was a girl in high school who did some messed up stuff to us and her face erupted in boils the next day. Coincidence? Probably. But it was pretty disturbing. I left all that behind and figured the universe would take care of things itself, whatever was meant for me would happen and I shouldn’t meddle.

    Then this shit happened. Two decades of deceit and betrayal from my husband and damn near everyone around me. I came out of retirement.

    I want them to feel what I felt. That’s what I put on them. All the pain I felt. I don’t know if they’re capable of feeling emotional pain to that extent since they are monsters but if they aren’t, I trust the universe will find a way to give them an equivalent amount of physical pain.

    Silly? Probably. This stuff always seems silly to me when I’m not actively doing it. But it made me feel better. There was so little I could actually directly do. This felt like doing something. And if it works, bonus. I don’t think it’s morally wrong if they feel the pain they enjoyed causing. It’s justice.

    • Can you share instructions on how to do this? I know a serial schmoopie who seriously needs a good hexing.

    • During the few months of pick-me dancing after D-Day, it gradually dawned on me that even if I managed to “win”, that the prize would be a man who lies as easily as he breathes. So I stopped imagining a future with him and stopped trying to persuade him that he was making a mistake to discard me. But I too wanted him to suffer at least some of what I knew I would suffer once he was gone, and to suffer some of the pain that I was already suffering.

      He was some one who routinely used meditation in order to compartmentalize his feelings so that he could lead his double life, use and dispose of people without feeling bad about it. It also seemed to me that he was to some extent getting me to feel his feelings for him, such as love, deep attachment, and loss; feelings he split off from with iron discipline. I decided that I was going to at least stop that for sure, because dealing with my own pain was hard enough. So I wrote up and did a Pagan hand-parting ceremony with him, in the last week of his stay. It is a way to end a marriage or long-term relationship, but unlike the typical legal divorce, it also breaks the deep psychic bonds that may have formed between the two partners. He cooperated in the hand-parting because he figured that way I’d let him leave for the other coast without a scene. Shortly after he arrived on the other side of the country, he starting feeling waves of literally gut-wrenching feelings of loss that he had never experienced before. He sounded very surprised. I on the other hand felt liberated, sad but at peace and relaxed. So I think that he was finally forced to feel the pain that normal people feel when they betray an important part of themselves. The subsequent pictures of him (he has a rather public job, so lots of pictures on the internet) always show him looking sad and world-weary now.
      It is also possible to do a Hand-Parting after the person is gone, even without their consent, to dissolve any remaining psychic bonds, the technique is a little different but it works.

  • I’m glad to read this today. I need to do a wound cleaning.

    I just bought a bagua mirror for my front door to repel the Craigslist Cockroach/vampire/hungry ghost.

    I’m the spiritual type, a student of spiritual truth of many disciplines, and I have to say my spiritual program has helped me the most.

    Some spiritual rituals I practice:

    Probably every night for the past three years I play a video I found on YouTube (You Have a Defender/Joel Osteen). It works. I thank my Higher Power for delivering divine justice. I use the Hawaiian healing prayer, ho’oponopono. I wrap up in a blanket and listen to The Power of Now on audiobook when I feel panic and anxiety. I have a written list of responses I can read out loud when upsetting thoughts strike. I went on a virtual pilgrimage to Lourdes; the volunteer organization send me water from the grotto (free). Anything that helps. I’m always looking for things to do or listen to or read or watch on the spiritual level.

  • I don’t know that I would call this a “ritual” (as it just happened once), but after ordering a pair of boxing gloves 🥊 online, I beat the hell out of a heavy cardboard desk tchotchke that I stumbled across by accident at the local WalMart. (Not to worry… I bought it first before I beat the hell out of it in the store. Haha!) Decorated with a map motif, the letters spelled out the offending word – EXPLORE – triggering for 2 reasons:

    1/ On his written list of 8 reasons why I sucked, one of my deficiencies was that he needed more travel in his life. (Apparently 6 of the 7 continents over the course of the time when I didn’t suck was a moot point).

    2/ His decades younger starry-eyed military minion had dazzled him with the phrase “We need to EXPLORE this relationship!”…. which of course he repeated back to me as justification for his wayward dick.

    Although to this day I still cringe when I hear that word, destroying that tchotchke was so satisfying I almost needed a cigarette. 😉 🤣 (No, I don’t smoke).

    • Well, I don’t know if that qualifies as a ritual, but I took up boxing too. And kick boxing. Right after we separated, a couple of times a week I went to boxing classes and I would picture his stupid face on the heavy bag whenever things were bad. I always felt great afterwards (like you said CEC 🚬). It had the added benefit that I got really fit and strong, which came in handy when the time came to move out and file for divorce.

      • FuckThatShit & Unicornomore –

        Thanks for your support.

        These fuckers are the gift that just keeps on giving long after they are gone. Sounds like both of you are well into TUESDAY, maybe even late into the day. 🎉🥳💯‼️

    • I developed a hatred of the word “connection” which is how he repeatedly described his bond with Susan of Seattle…gag. Im finally to a place where it no longer triggers me

      • The word for me was ‘uncomfortable’. I was told that I ‘made other people feel very, very uncomfortable’. I became obsessed with that word. And then free when I said to my therapist ‘FW made me feel very, very uncomfortable. I didn’t realise it until he was gone’. Now I’m alert when I feel uncomfortable and I move away as fast and as far as my little legs will take me. It’s liberating. I don’t have to make allowances, give the benefit of the doubt, when I feel that. I can leave the malign space and I do.

        • Mighty, I just wanted to let you know I really like this post.

          6 years out, I found ‘meh’ about a year ago with EDMR, and the big gift of the whole living-with-a-cheater experience turns out to be the death of people-pleaser me and the birth of enough sense and discrimination to simply vanish when something feels ‘off’.

  • just picked up my big-ass divorce ring at the jewellers. took in my wedding rings and sold them, created a credit for having a new piece made. pulled the diamond out of the engagement ring and reused it–i don’t mind. it’s a hard jewel, forged from fire. like me.

    the new ring is made of white gold and a bit of yellow gold, deconstructed and industrial in styling. the sides are hammered. that seems about right. i wear it on my right hand. it’s chunky and i could clock someone if i wanted, but i don’t have that desire.

    i promise to be true to my self.

    PS i burned a few of his travel journals in the firepit out back. he always made a big production of keeping a travel journal on our travels, and i finally opened it. there’s nothing much in there beyond the logistics of travel. no thoughts, insights, wonderings. FFS.

    • “there’s nothing much in there beyond the logistics of travel. no thoughts, insights, wonderings”

      It’s interesting you bring this up, DIFBTBAC. I made a similar discovery, and one that helped me accept FW for who he was instead of who I imagined him to be. I’d completely forgotten about this revelation.

      During wreckonciliation, shortly before I left for good, I was desperate for the truth about my ex’s past/ongoing cheating. More importantly, I felt like I needed who he REALLY was, because I couldn’t trust who he told me he was. I needed to know whether the person I’d sacrificed so much for – and who continued to cause me great confusion, pain and suffering – was a worthy companion who deserved my love, respect and commitment. (Obviously he wasn’t, but I was still on hopium.)

      To this end, I justified looking in his journal and at a few of the stories he’d written. There was absolutely nothing about me or about what he’d done. Nothing. I found this incredibly bizarre and alarming. (On the other hand, I’d written pages over the years, sincere attempts to figure out my feelings and his feelings, to get a handle on my life and relationship and what I could/should do about it.)

      In the entries, he wrote one-dimensionally about his childhood, his father’s death, his own drinking, yet he was never reflective or introspective. He never considered anyone else’s feelings or perspectives, and he gave no indication that he felt guilty or wanted to change; he did, however, pity himself quite a bit. There was also a healthy dose of ego. He wrote these fictional stories about hunting or being in the wilderness where the glorified hero resembled him. A child could have written them. It was disappointing, above all. I didn’t learn anything about “what happened,” but what he left out and what he included in his private writings told me a lot. I wonder if this is common.

  • Oh, I also burned all the important paperwork he left behind. I found it and was going to give it to him but then I found something else and decided he could go fuck himself and set it all on fire. I can’t even remember which horrific discovery that was. There were so many.

    I burned all his letters and cards that I had kept and things like his DD 214. He can go to hell.

    • I made and kept a copy of the DD214 only to the extent my child will need it for college or something. Or if I will need it with the QDRO for my share of pension.

      What I trashed was a box of kibbles he had kept for himself from his ex-fiance. He always said she up and left him out of the blue for no reason. 😒 He had this box of stuffed animals, letters, cards, etc. It was ridiculous. I could imagine keeping a few in case kids someday would be mesmerized by their parents having had love lives before the other parent, but an entire box stuffed full of letters and mementos was over the top. He just loved to look at it and think of how much attention he got from that one. When she left, he said she was “just a gold digger,” anyway. Who knows. But after some unsettling discovery (like you, there were so many), I dumped the entire thing in the garbage.

  • I had a few rituals. Prayer and meditation with crystals, after reading a daily spiritual guide tops the list. I saved the house, wrote him letters and burned them, new activities like paddleboard yoga, hiking, new bedclothes, rugs, painting-really changed as much as I could to wash away the old life and start anew. I’m lucky cuz I have always embraced change -this one was really hard. Hugs

  • Idiot liked to gift me with Willow Tree figurines, especially of couples embracing. Because he is an idiot, he gave me doubles of several of those. (Assuming the gift thing was hard for him to keep track of.)

    The nice thing about wooden figurines is that they burn really well, and even artfully, which is nice for a photography hobbyist like me.

    Got a nice fire going outside, positioned the figurines for optimal framing, and shot a dark but artsy series of them slowly blackening and turning to ash.

    Very satisfying.

    • I find those figurines so unsettling because they have no faces. You have couples, you have angels, you have children, but you can’t tell what any of them are thinking or feeling.

  • I got holy water from my church and sprinkled it all over my house as I kept the marital home. Made some prayers.

    An Abriginal friend of mine came and performed a smudging ceremony on my hime too.

  • Nearly a year after D-Day, I went camping and threw my engagement ring and wedding ring into the lake. And everyone asks why didn’t I sell them — the rings I chose years ago happened to be inexpensive. (He wanted to buy expensive rings, for which neither of us had that kind of money, and actually pushed back on my preference since it didn’t cost as much as he thought engagement rings “should” cost. Looking back, that was a precursor to not only his love of debt that continued throughout 20 years of marriage, but his placing undue importance on appearances.)

    My story — July 1, 2020, he calls me from work and says he’s leaving me. I was COMPLETELY blindsided. Two days later he sends me a multi-page Google doc manifesto explaining his Reasons. (I don’t dream. He never thought he’d ever live to be 50 and hasn’t realized his dreams boo hoo hoo.) A week later he moves in with his 20-year-old Schmoopie, who was not mentioned at all in his treatise. He’s 50.

    I filed for divorce — he had debts I didn’t know about, and I make more money than him. But D-day, separation, getting new bank accounts, readying the marital house for sale, buying a new house on my own, moving, losing my cat, finding my cat, AAAAAND my dog died — all of this happened in 104 days. (I thank God for my parents, sister, nieces, and colleagues for keeping me duct-taped together.)

    So now I’m almost debt-free, am objectively one of the highest-skilled professionals nationwide in my line of work, own my own home, and am going for my bachelor’s degree — all three of which he KNEW I was “dreaming” about. Except now I will, can, and have attained those dreams while he’s stuck in a dead-end job paying for Schmoopie and her kid. He thought he was setting himself free to fly to new heights — just watch this, Bucko. (figuratively, that is, since I’ve cut all social media ties to him)

  • More rituals:

    —dashed the wedding chins to smithereens, piece by piece, against the side of a dumpster
    —ditto the zillions of tea pots, most of them hideous, that he inexplicably gave me over the years
    —oops, the engagement diamond got flushed (so not sorry)
    —no longer own a single piece of clothing I owned pre-dday (undies were the first to go)
    —big framed wedding photo into the garbage (bye)

  • Im not a fan of current day Christianity in the USA but I consider my religion as something more pure and authentic from the past. My Tradition is Catholicism (which helped me more than it hurt anI know not everyone can say that),

    During this betrayal (which Catholicism would describe as a “Mortal Sin”) I put Holy Water associated with a local Saint in his shampoo. I also had a ceremony of sprinkling Holy Water around the periphery of our property banishing evil (in a way, it eventually worked).

    I said prayers over his clothes and I wrote a prayer about his whole fucked up mess, printed it and put it between the mattress and box spring where he slept.

    Perhaps the most powerful thing I did was to keep myself focused on the fact that I knew that God would get me through the mess (even having no idea what the outcome would look like). In that vein, one day I prayed “dear God, if there is a man out there who I might love and be tempted to betray Cheater for, keep him from me, I do not wish to be the betrayer in all this”. I didnt know that my future husband would soon mover back to the area and we would find each other when we were both free.

    Cheater had made decisions that left our net wort right about $0 and I was broken in many ways. I prayed for some sort of resolution and finally told God that I released Cheater from any obligation and he could go where ever might make him happy. I though he would move to California but instead, he dropped dead.

    Im now living a very nice life with love, vocational success and financial security

  • I believe cleaning and moving, and throwing away old faux memories is all cathartic. I did not have a formal ritual, but it felt right to leave old places, even those I loved once upon a time, and start new. My boys went through a lot, because of their dad, and then the love bomber, but they proved resilient. That was my goal as a sane parent, to raise strong, independent, resilient children to adulthood. That was probably my hardest and most worthy accomplishment.

    The other night my youngest and I were talking about life and changes. He asked me how I was possibly mature enough in my 20’s to marry and buy 2 homes. He is 31, and does not feel ready for either commitment. I told him it was not a choice, so much, for me, but a necessity, and a response to my FOO programing. My Dad virtually abandoned me emotionally, long ago. At 18, he cut off all financial support after my first semester of college, even though I had made straight A’s and was fitting into college life quite well. He thought I would fall apart, and have to come begging back to him for support. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the first men who underestimated me in my life.

    Oldest of five children, raised 2 of my own, survivor of bad relationships, and academically I completed my B.A. and M.A. plus. I worked and supported myself for 50 years so far (I’m now retired}. Never an apology, no remorse from any of the men in my life who underestimated me. I feel like I was forged in a fire of disrespect, and expected to be a weak woman dependent upon the whims and directions men gave me. I’m not Wonder Woman, but I’ve survived more than my share of battles designed to defeat me and make me submit to their expectations.

    Dream your own dreams. Do not depend on those who want to use you to support you. Practice for the marathon you will have to run to get through life if you are young. When you approach the last part of the race, you will be able to look back at a life lived with integrity.

    My youngest son told me the thing he admired about me the most was that he never, ever doubted he was loved, or worthy, and he knew I had always provided the best I could for him and his brother. He told me he was grateful I had not demonized his father, but let him figure out how to deal with him on his own terms. He said he would really like to ask his dad “why did you cheat on my mother.” I advised against asking. I told him he would only get some weak lie, or blame shift, that his father would not take responsibility for his choices. He told me he did not want to make the same choices his father did, and it worried him that he would make that error. I explained to him that just by worrying about that very thing, he showed more character and introspection than his dad had ever been capable of.

    I think living an authentic life, and teaching your children, family, and friends what real love and support look like is the best thing you will ever do for yourself, and for them. If you do this, you win.

    • Portia,

      You are so mighty and a fabulous example to your sons. I was stunned one day to get a call from my oldest son who asked me “how did you first realize that you were in an abusive relationship?” It seems he had a married friend in one and he was coaching her on getting out of it.

      My kids dont reference their father’s behavior and they dont want me to either (I believe they are trying to create a narrative that they can live with) so in this dynamic, actions speak louder than words. They all seem very proud of how I have conducted my life in the era since their dad died and for me that is the prize.

    • Yeah, I think the leaving is helpful.

      My ex wanted me to buy the marital house and the small rental across the alley his mother was living in. Agree to let her live there for a small rent for the rest of her life.

      I told my lawyer that and he flat out said. NO. That is not going to happen if I am your lawyer. He is trying to stick you with the care of his mother.

      So, we did it my way. I got the small rental his mother was living in. It was paid off, but only because the loan for it was attached to our marital house. Fw of course wanted me to assume payments and take over all that.

      That is why he wanted us to use his lawyer (to save money) Save money my ass, he knew if he could get me to use his lawyer, he was in control. His lawyer was a redneck loser who was so successful he lived in a trailer park. No offense to folks who live in a trailer park, many fine folks live there; but successful lawyers, no.

      I really wish though he had just bought me out, but he wouldn’t. He could have easily done it and I would have settled for just 20 thousand dollars. That would have been easy for him to get a loan for and pay off quickly.

      Schmoops would have to give up her fine dinners and gifts, which she was going to give up anyway. But, I do think I would have been better off to get totally out of that area.

      But, all in all I made lemonade, so it wasn’t too bad.

  • When I did an exterior renovation to my home, I dumped all the wedding photos in a construction trash bin.

    Bye!

  • I had an amazing Divorce Party (right bf CoVID). I wore a sash that said Divorcee and invited lots of friends. I hired a bartender and two servers so I could focus on drinking and socializing.

    It was so cathartic!

  • Mine was a simple ritual. We were clearing a friends house pre sale and had an incinerator bin going in the back garden. My friends and me burnt all the memorabilia love declarations poems birthday cards Christmas cards pictures etc. Just to see his fat face go up in smoke was cleansing!

  • I am happy to report that after 15 months of delaying tactics, my ex finally ran out of wrenches to throw at the divorce process and finally signed last week!!! My adult daughter bought a cake and cake toppers that said “Divorced AF” and “You are Dead to Us.” Extremely delicious. Next day, I went to the jewelry store and sold everything I could. Engagement ring, wedding bands, treasured heirlooms from his diabolical mother…everything sold for dirt-cheap. It felt fantastic.

  • Since our 50th wedding anniversary came only weeks after D-day (when I found out my now ex had been leading a double life for 15 years) I presented him with a most appropriate anniversary gift. The rosary he gave me and the desk globe I gave have him a wedding gifts and smashed them to smithereens, gift wrapped them and gave them to him on our anniversary. Touching, huh? Best ritual I’ve ever seen was shown in TV series, ” Better Things ” season 4, episode 8. Priceless

  • Every D-day anniversary (June 2), I take my kids for ice cream. At first, I didn’t offer an explanation. This year, when the kids asked what was the occasion, I told them that it was the anniversary of the time when I found out that there was an extra 29-year-old in our lives (but made sure to tell them that we were celebrating that we were all still here, and thriving). We laughed and ordered the best treats that day. ♥️♥️

  • Well… I had a massive mold explosion at my house and had to dispose of literally every single one of my possessions as a result. Everything. Household items, clothing including underwear and bras, shoes, books, furniture, keepsakes, photos, my bed, every single thing I owned. I could NOT get the mold out of anything despite trying for months and I am deeply allergic. (Luckily I was able to emergency vacate when it happened and stay elsewhere.) My landlord yelled at and blamed me while denying there was any problem and then my rental insurance promptly denied my claim because they do not cover mold.

    The silver lining is that every single item serial cheater gave me over the 8 years we were together was unceremoniously carted off to the dump to be out of my life forever. 🙂

  • Got rid of his last name as soon as I found out he was a serial cheater. The divorce isn’t final yet but I will have nothing to remind me of him when that is over. No photo left with him in it. None of jewellery or other present he ever gave me. Only my two adult daughters are left, everything else has been sold, given away or dumped. Sayonara Dumb Ass

  • I once had a friend who learned of her gent’s infidelity on 12/24. She threw over his 7 foot tall holiday tree with hundreds of expensive crystal ornaments he had been collecting for years, stomped a bunch of the still-unbroken ones into powder, grabbed her bag, and walked out.

    They weren’t married, so it was a clean break (ha), and it was a glorious story. She called me crying, and by the end of the call we were both laughing. Pretty epic.

  • I am writing a new book called FUCK YOU (Mr. Chumpersons). It’s a sequel to a very beautiful, art and poetry filled pick me book (that I wrote before I understood that pick me was a thang). Writing in Fuck You Mr. Chumpersons is my alternative for times I want to call up Mr. C and and tell him which orifice to shove his latest bullshit. As a hard core “nice girl” who feared FW reprisal from for 2 decades, it’s been cathartic to express stuff that still eats at me in a safe place. Anything goes and I feel a wee bit better with every page.

    Plus, it’s a hilarious read when I am tempted to stray from no contact. Just looking at the title is enough to snap me back to reality. “Chumpy – he is a unapolgetic fucktard and here the SPECIFICS in case you forgot them (again)”

  • I was so consumed by shame and bitterness nearly 2 years post D-Day (the final one being maybe D Day 7 or 8 by this stage) I turned to witchcraft. I was aware of cord cutting spells and hexes, I was dead set on doing something to remove him from my life and my head. I’d done a lot of moving on but the bitterness remained. I could not forgive the unforgivable.

    But as I explored the spells, I realised that the connection (the cord) I had with him was my kids. I have quite….psychic abilities, and while I didn’t really believe a lot of the Witchery narratives I felt a deep fear that I could potentially perform a cord cutting or hex, and inadvertently harm my children, given they were the only tie I had with him.

    I thought about this for weeks. I bought the things I needed for the spells. I couldn’t do it.

    But through that process (and a bunch of shadow work) I was able to get past the bitterness and shame. It was as really interesting. The witchcraft worked by not doing it. And you know in witchcraft, it’s all about the intent. It’s not magic, it’s intention. And that shit worked!!!

    • My worldview (Catholicism) is very different from what you describe and yet I eventually got to the same conclusion. For a while I languished in dark anger and I realized that (partially because he was not on Earth any more) the most likely place for that to land was on our children as they the physical manifestation of his previous existence.

      I had kind of forgotten this specific part of my journey…thank you for reminding me.

  • I cleaned my house. I even hired a Marie Kondo consultant to help me clean.
    She left her wedding dress – I had all kinds of thoughts about it, but gave it back to her .
    The first things I removed were all the wedding photos and photos of her, so when she came to pick up some stuff, she was actually taken back by the fact that all the wedding photos were gone.
    What did she expect me to do – have a little shrine forever?
    Starting in my bedroom, I removed all furniture which reminded me of her . That kind of thing cost money of course , so it has been a slow process but the transformation is nearly complete.
    The house is full of family photos of me and the kids, so I am quite happy.
    A friend burnt sage in my house – whilst that is not usually my thing it felt good , to actively take a moment and deal with bad memories. The house feels like a home

  • I’ve asked before, but will again. Where are chumps selling rings and getting thousands of dollars? I thought jewelry re-sale got just a small fraction of original price.

    • I would like to know as well. Most jewelers want to turn a tidy profit so they won’t buy gems and precious metals at their replacement value.

      • Years ago my mom got broken necklaces etc melted into a gorgeous pendant/nugget thing. I’m about to do that with the minimal jewelry I received. Figure if it’s melted, the evil is burned out of it and I have an amazing and unique piece.

    • Same here. I had a good sized diamond but was offered peanuts for it.

      I gave it to my daughter in law. Don’t know what she did with it, don’t care.

      I think the only way folks can make big money is if the stone is really rare and flawless, and even then they likely won’t get what it is worth.

      Pawn shops pay peanuts, and jeweler’s aren’t going to take a big risk on losing money.

    • I have to agree – when evaluating jewels for the marital asset assessment the price for jewellery was ridiculous .
      Firstly my ex ‘remembered ‘all prices incorrectly – including the engagement ring she herself chose.
      Luckily I had all the receipts still, as I had put the values in the home insurance.
      But the value given by the assessor was quite sobering.
      What it tells me – if I should ever be in a relationship, I won’t spend a penny on jewellery , given it is such a hoax

      • Honestly if I were a young person, I think I would prefer the fake stones set in gold. The good ones are gorgeous and very sturdy.

        If enough folks did that it would bring the jewelry industry to their knees.

        I have noticed at least in our circles that young folks are leaning towards smaller wedding receptions, and many are just doing the cake and punch in the church basements or in their homes.

        The cake and punch is what most middle income folks did when I was young, (60s) and of course rich folks did the big lavish parties.

        But, then in the late eighties regular income folks started going in debt for big lavish receptions. I am glad some folks are using their heads.

        • Cocktails, substantial hors d’œuvres and canapés followed by the cake and toast. 💃🏻 🕺 Spend your money on a fabulous honeymoon and maybe real estate.

          • Exactly.

            Honestly most of the folks invited to those big receptions (unless you are a celebrity) don’t want to really be there anyway. I know I never liked going, it was just obligation. If I could reasonably get out of it I just send my regards and a check.

    • I’ve been scared to take my rings in to get them appraised. I was told they were worth $12,000 by Fuckface and he included a rider on the house insurance to cover them. Then I became obsessed with the thought he took them someplace and removed the valuable gems on the pretext of having them cleaned.

      Why the obsession? Because in our negotiations of how much he was going to take from me, the value of the rings was never discussed.

      • Mine told me my piece of shit thin white gold wedding band and engagement ring with a tiny sliver of a diamond was worth thousands. (I hated that set, it was ugly and shaped so a sharp point on the setting dug into your hand.) Yeah, really? I haven’t sold them yet, I got ’em in a pile of other scrap silver and gold I need to pawn/recycle. I’ll be surprised if I get $200 for the whole lot.

    • At the time of our 25th anniversary, my son was readying to propose to his babymomma and I had the half carat diamond from my 80s engagement ring reset into an updated setting. Cheater and I were in wreckonciliation and I expected a jumbo diamond to commemorate it. Just before the anniversary, we entered a financial crisis thus no big diamond and the “celebration” was an overnight trip to Baltimore (everyone dreams of an anniversary trip to Baltimore, no?).

      Cheater died 374 days after our 25th anniversary. Im now SOOOOOO glad that he never bought the big diamond. It was strange though…he often spoke of doing so ..he hinted to it alluded to it yet never did it. He also (looking back) rarely told me the truth…BUT…one day, I very gently asked him why he spoke of this but never did it.

      I (being the smoker of hopium and belief that I was a unicorn) expected him to speak of love and commitment. His answer was “successful men buy their wives big diamonds, I have never been successful”. His behavior in this (like nearly everything) had nothing to do with me. What a huge gift to learn that.

      I remarried and really did want a nice ring. My beloved has bank but is very thrifty. A reasonable compromise was found which included a nice diamond and a promise to not bug, hint or cajole him for jewelry for the rest of our lives…hahaha!!

  • I eventually purged all the family photos. My rule was to throw out any pictures of my ex or his family that did not have myself or the kids centrally featured. That is so my kids can maintain their memories of childhood in a loving household. I will pass them on to them when they are adults.

  • I moved, took what I loved as I had picked out everything anyway, wear some of the jewelry he gave me because I like it –

    The wedding dress was my mothers so extra memories there – no burning.

    My super power was absolute fucking no contact. Dude, you get a big fat nothing from me.

    You don’t follow alimony decree – we go to court.

    I am almost to meh – five years later after a 32 year marriage. Almost.

  • I took all the glass breakable items he left at my house to the outdoor gun range. I then blew them to smithereens. When someone asked what I was doing, I straight up told the truth and nearly everyone there was very supportive. They offered to let me try their guns on for size blasting holiday ornaments, paper weights with stupid motivational sayings, and a couple glasses from restaurants I had never been to. Not the most mature thing to do but in the end I sure as hell felt better.

    • I think that is fantastic. I wish I had thought of that. I honestly left most of the house hold item except for the things that meant something to me in the marital house for my mother in law who was moving in there. Hell she had given me most of it anyway, and I didn’t need it.

      My mother in law was more generous with me than my ex ever was. I think it embarrassed her how much of a tight ass he was with me. If she had know what he was dong for all those years, spending money on a whore, I am pretty sure all hell would have broke loose.

  • OMG I just got the word from my attorney I am officially divorced! I need to get myself a big ass divorce ring!!! 🎉🎈

  • I had a couple of rituals.
    One was buying thrift store angels that could burn candles and then burning the candles at night to remove his stinkin essence. When the divorce was finalized, I took each angel and left it in a national/state/local park where I liked to hike.

    The second ritual. I wrote slogans on my wall. In pencil. Sometimes trite sayings, sometimes my fears, sometimes my victory chants. When it was all over, I took a big eraser and cleaned it off.

  • I learnt ex was cheating after he left when I found a list of pros and cons he had written comparing me and OW. I wrote pros(not many) and cons(A lot!) about him them burnt them both. Very satisfying!

  • I had a “divorce ring” made from the diamonds of my wedding ring ! I get more compliments on it then I ever did on the now melted down wedding ring. And I proudly say “it’s my divorce ring”. I also did a “letting go” ceremony on the full moon, on the beach in Hawaii. It was the most spiritual thing I’ve ever done besides my baptism in the Jorden River. Interesting they both had to do with water, just now put that together.
    6 1/2 yrs later and I do believe in TUESDAYS !!! Thank you Tracy and Chump Nation , could not have survived without you !

    Oh … ps … I never believed in rituals before now ! Was taught that was evil and of the devil 😈 How God works in mysterious ways 😇

  • With a hammer I smashed into very small pieces the Ketubah that we had made ourselves and hung over our bed. The words etched into it had become a sick absurd joke.

  • Oh…..all the pictures. I had no idea what to do with them. At first I just took them down or put them in drawers or in the storage room. Took 3.5 years to get my decree finally. 1 year later I just came home one day and had to put something in the storage room. I just went….hmmmmm. What the hell are these doing here……….instant spring cleaning and into the garbage they ALL went. No emotion involved other than me saying…….”well this is just stupid to have these”. Only pause I had was……maybe my son and daughter might want these. That lasted all of half a second before they went into the trash can. Be mighty chump nation.

  • I packed all the cards, letters and mementos in a box and included in his crap as he packed and left.

    Asked my Native American friend to perform smudging ritual on my house. It felt so good!

    I made a “not now” box for things I couldn’t deal with in the moment and I’ve gradually cleaned it out.

    New linens, fresh coat of paint and all is well.

  • I found a “10 things I Love Most About Being Married To You” list I had given him on our 25th anniversary. I read it, ripped it up and threw it in trash. But I was glad to see the evidence we hadn’t just grown apart. I had been doing some pretty busy pick me dancing up until then.

  • It’s tough for me to describe just how addicted my ex was to fly fishing. For me, it felt cathartic to pack up all the flying fishing paraphernalia that I owned and sell it at a store that takes that sort of thing. I’m talking thousands of dollars worth of stuff–rods, reels, waders, boots, etc…What couldn’t be sold was donated to a good cause.

    Fly fishing represented my ex.

    My engagement in that sport for years represented the degree to which I bent over backwards to do the shit he liked, ignoring my own desires.

    By selling that stuff, I took my first step in the direction of my new FW-free life.

    The OW is a much-younger co-worker who seemed eager to learn to fish. Waddya know? This won him over, apparently! My guess is that should have loved ax-throwing if he’d been into that. As I’ve mentioned before on this site, the two of them got massive, matching, upper-thigh fish tattoos. And so their love was sealed. Ugh.

  • Ha ha! Now he can fish right at home. Schmoopies turn into dead fish in the sack once the shine wears off and there’s no hypotenuse to torture.

    In my brief foray into dating sites, a love for fishing was an automatic swipe away.
    Same thing for speed boating, riding motorcycles, and other traditionally “manly” hobbies.

  • I started doing mixed martial arts again. Choking dudes a decade younger than I out with ease has been great for my mood and self esteem lol

    Also I can almost see my abs again xD

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