Any Stupid Cheater Life Plans?
Did your cheater have any spontaneously wacko life plans that didn’t work out? Are you the obstacle to their greatness?
Today’s Friday Challenge is Stupid Cheater Life Plans.
You know, that ever swirling kaleidoscope of potential and opportunity that is a career in soap making/kiteboarding/beer brewing/puppy snuggling/clog recycling…
You gave up your day job?
PUPPY SNUGGLING IS A GROWTH INDUSTRY!
Stupid Cheater Life Plans are those passing whims cheaters want to pass off as substance.
“Hey, Beauregard University DOT com is offering a MASTERS in Puppy Snuggling!” And make unilateral decisions to pursue. “Oh, by the way, I refinanced the house to pay for my P.S. degree.”
…And then abandon halfway through for another Stupid Cheater Life Plan.
“Tofu Taco FOOD TRUCKS are the FUTURE!”
Puppy snuggling?
“It was not my passion.” There were challenges and hardships. “A puppy peed on me.” They were not sufficiently appreciated. “Can you believe they did not meet my salary demands?”
It’s escapism dressed up as adult-ing.
“Of COURSE I can run a FOOD TRUCK! Look at my spiral notebook! I’ve drawn lots of schematics! Check out my logo design!”
Um, but food trucks require permits and inspections and stuff…
“DO YOU DOUBT MY ABILITIES?” That’s just like you, being a killjoy. Why don’t you prove your fealty to the wingnut with a little down payment? Just to prove you care. I think you should. Schmoopie understands. You should be more like Schmoopie. Schmoopie is a tofu visionary.
Anybody live this particular Stupid Cheater Life Plan nightmare?
Tell me about your chaos. And TGIF!
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This will also be the topic of a future podcast. You can leave Sarah and me a voicemail here.
She was going to go and live off the land like in the book “my side of the mountain”.
Kept adding to it.
Eventually it was she and her True Love would do this.
Oh, and somehow a pickup truck factored into all of it.
My FW wanted a pickup truck, too! He wanted to use his fancy Ivy league degree in Russian history and open a moving company.
How could a pickup truck not factor into all of this? I mean, dude! Can’t live off the land without a PICKUP TRUCK!!😂😂
You are SO much better off without her, MIM. Peace and love to you, my friend. May your ex and her “twu wuv” experience a landslide firsthand. Or would that end up being the land living off her/them? I’m so easily confused.😁
I remember that book from elementary school.
Dear god I hated it.
Christopher McCandless is the reality of what would happen if a kid tried to go live off the land in the wilderness…
He was an adult but my point is I hated that book because of how utterly ridiculous it was.
I found the book exasperating followed by fascinating.
I found McCandless himself to be that early twenties hipster who thinks very highly of his ideas – and is inexperienced enough to ignore everyone pointing out the adjustments needed to survive. As such, he’s pretty dull.
What was fascinating was watching how Krakauer bent himself into a pretzel trying to show the world how groundbreaking McCandless was because Krakauer massively over-identified with him.
You can find a McCandless at any high turnover, low skill job.
It takes a special level of hipster drifter to die in Alaska due to poor planning and refusal to accept any advice or help – but McCandless wasn’t the first or last.
Krakauer brought the crazy to a new height, though, by arguing that McCandless’ plan was brought down by something no one could have foreseen: that fresh collected wild legumes stored in plastic bags would mold. You know, because a 24 year old man would never know that.
Thankfully, actual scientists ran down that McCandless’ seeds collected probably contained an amino acid that would interfere with protein synthesis in a malnourished human. Eating a seed with no reference to use in the ethnobotany text he carried was fatally stupid – but not as asinine as Krakauer’s fallback theory.
How anyone could see romance in McCandless’s story is beyond me. It’s like he was operating off some bonkers theory that this survival knowledge is hardwired in human evolution or magically imparted by God at a moment of need instead of intensively learned. At least he only destroyed himself instead of bringing others down with him, otherwise the story reminds me of the ghoulish vignette about the faith healer in Devil All the Time.
Timothy Treadwell and bringing a lady out with him.
Angered a bear that ended up killing them both.
That guy was…something…I watched a documentary on him where a psychologist analyzed his behavior. He said Treadwell clearly had some kind of mental illness that caused him to be both seriously narcissistic (thinking he was better/smarter than the park rangers and experts who tried to keep him off the land, and he was the only person “saving” the bears. Ignoring the people who said the bears did not need saving.) and that he had some kind of severe age regression. The way he spoke, his unusual high-pitch in his voice, and the actual words he used were very childish. Not the way an adult speaks.
A direct quote from Treadwell in an interview regarding his relationship with bears: “I will be the master. But still a kind warrior.”
Timothy Treadwell’s patronizing attitude toward bears seems like a parallel to most FWs’ attitudes towards primary partners. So no wonder a bear ended up eating him.
About the unnaturally high-pitched voice… what a fraught subject.
I can’t swear to it (no definitive social research so far) but, from experience, I suspect it can sometimes be the mark of dangerously narcissistic men who are trying to appear deceptively “innocent” and “childlike” for some creepy agenda.
When I was working as an advocate for domestic abuse survivors, we got a lot of reports about ostensibly hetero men who would go into high-pitched or (and I quote) “almost gay” vocal tones right before engaging in extreme violence.
We (advocates) started to think that the “almost gay” tone was really accidental and no reflection on actually gay men because some abusers in the throes of committing extreme abuse would “age regress.” We considered the possibility that, when an adult male age-regresses and tries to sound much younger than he is, he might inadvertently end up sounding feminine (because young boy’s voices don’t change until puberty, etc.)
We got enough of these weird reports to start wondering if this bizarre vocal behavior was the mark of extreme dangerousness in men.
It just seemed very sad and potentially damaging if this association cast false aspersions on actually gay men who speak in certain ways to signal group identity so we kind of kept these discussions to ourselves.
OMG…I thought this was only in my life. My STBX sometimes speaks with a femme persona…best way I can describe it…to say murderous things to me. Such as I deserve to die and should be killed. It terrifies me. I am plenty scared of “him” but terrified of “her.”
I tried to google this and found nothing on it. Only info about how suffering from abuse can alter the victim’s voice.
HOAC, I value deeply your wisdom, but in this case, women need to know this. I had no idea it was a known thing as a marker for extreme violence, even potentially. These are real women in danger, maybe women who will be killed. The fact that this odd sign could perhaps raise false aspersions about gay men is simply no reason not to warn women whose lives are potentially in danger.
All the hair on the back of my neck stood up when I read your words. My husband has been formally diagnosed as having NPD, with features of psychopathy/sociopathy, anti-social disorder. When he is in his femme persona you can’t imagine how scary and creepy it is. It is almost like he is demon-posessed.
The first time he used the femme voice to my face was during an argument over a minor topic. His face became contorted with rage, his pupils constricted and a manic, electric energy filled the room. He screamed into my face in a femme voice “YOU BITCH!” and I was so scared I lost control of my bladder. But something told me not to show fear or move quickly and somehow I behaved like I was mildly annoyed and slowly, after a few minutes, got up off the bed and left the room.
I’m quite surpised to still be alive.
If there is any formal literature on this, I’d love to know where to find it.
The only research I know of which relates to this is about behavioral and mental age regression in cluster B personality disorders and psychosis. But I’ve never seen any research on “accidentally effeminate voice” in age-regressing heterosexual men.
I’ve also never seen research that specifically focused on “vocal age regression” and traumatic history in women. About the closest anything has come to this was when Dr. Phil used to do a parlor trick of correctly guessing whether adult female call-in guests to his talk show had been sexually abused as children according to how infantile their voices sound (if they sounded, say, five, Dr. Phil would correctly guess the abuse began at five. If they sounded twelve, it would turn out to have begun at twelve, etc.). He got flak for purporting this because there wasn’t enough science at the time to support the idea but some professional critics still generally agreed that age regression can be part of the legacy of traumatic childhood abuse.
This was more than ten years ago and, as far as I know, there still isn’t any science on “sexy baby voice” and potential association with childhood abuse in women. I don’t know why other than the fact that, at least in women, this trait is sometimes seen as acceptable or even demanded by “dah patriarchy” (the Japanese newscaster fired in the 90s for refusing to speak in the traditional falsetto “sweet voice” expected of women in the culture which is about 80- 100 Hertz higher than natural adult female tones).
Basically it seems gender politics may be getting in the way of advancing research on vocal quality, age regression and childhood trauma and, in typical backlash form, sometimes the media puts the patriarchal defenses in the mouths of pseudo-feminist sock-puppets. For instance, there was heavy media blowback against In a World creator Lake Bell’s famous contention that there’s a “sexy baby voice” epidemic in the US that’s demeaning to women. In response, various supposed feminists accused Bell of misogyny and defended the trend of millennial women using up-speak or sexy baby tones as an expression of choice and diversity. But the media attacks on Bell gave very little mention of the pressure on women to behave “cute,” “childish” and “dependent.” There was no discussion of how men may sometimes become enraged by and punitive towards women who speak like grown-ass adults, don’t do the “up-talk” thing of framing statements as questions, etc.
In reality, it seems Western men are pretty split on whether an infantile vocal tone in women is cloying or sleazy or disturbing or “hot” and “adorable.” But personally I think it’s a moot point what anyone “feels” about it and the only thing that matters is whether it’s healthy or not, which it apparently isn’t. Leading Japanese psychologist and phonetics expert Hiroko Yamazaki has rallied for years to get women in certain Asian countries to stop speaking in this false and unhealthy way which she sees as a “betrayal of self.” Then Shakespearean vocal expert Kristen Linklater who headed departments at Julliard and Columbia (and whose book I read in college for a media class) warned that both “hyperfeminine/infantile” or “hypermasculine/gruff” manners of speaking are artifices that– like bad posture, too much plastic surgery, or wearing tight shoes– can cause irreversible deformity. She particularly warned that habitually speaking in an unnaturally high pitched or breathy voice eventually destroys the vocal cords and the same person will end up sounding like they’re gargling on gravel or cackling by middle age. Meanwhile the voices of actresses like Emma Thompson and singers like Magda Olivera (at age 100) don’t degrade with time.
So if anyone can ever get past the political clusterf*ck surrounding vocal styles and start discussing it in terms of what is actually “natural” and “healthy” in adults, maybe this could pave the way for further investigations into vocal tones from a forensic perspective.
For now there really isn’t a lot of science and I can only speculate on what I’ve seen. It’s all anecdote but consistent, like the fact that I’ve heard many domestic violence survivors report this age regression/femme vocal shift in heterosexual abusers (and saw it myself in a workplace stalker– kind of a “Pee Wee Herman” shift, shudder). Or the fact that every single normal-sized woman (as opposed to women with dwarfism) I’ve ever known who habitually spoke in an infantile voice was traumatically abused in childhood (several were even aware of the link between rape and their Minnie Mouse voices and did vocal therapy for years to get rid of the audible “scar”). And every single woman I’ve known who shifted in and out of this voice had issues with dissociative rage. That’s why I definitely think it should be studied, maybe in men especially since, statistically, rage disorders are more dangerous in men.
I totally agree that people should get a heads up that hetero men (not closeted in other words) who display this vocal shift when drunk, sexed up or angry may be dangerous. It’s just that this should always come with a giant qualifier that it has nothing to do with homosexuality or bisexuality. Again, perhaps just an accident of men subconsciously or consciously trying to sound “child-like.”
As a side note, I’d add that I once worked for a monstrous straight married boss who spoke in a slightly effeminate tone. After I quit (in horror), the guy was all over the headlines for serial rapes of minors going back twenty years. Since then I’ve also wondered if sounding “effeminate” in straight men is an accident of pedophiles trying to sound “childlike” as a means of grooming children.
Thanks Hell of a Chump:
I tried researching it a bit more but found nothing. Of course, it is hard to sleuth when there isn’t even an accepted langage and terms for what you are trying to fnd.
I wonder if use of a fake (artificial tone) could be measured, and if so, suspect that mental wellness would be closely associated with people whose voices are natural and authentic and disorder associated with altered voices.
Guess I am fantasizing about a phone app that could identify bad people using the degree of artificality in a voice. So the Chumps of the future coukd quickly ID them and not waste precious years of life, their health, fertility and sanity…
One of the things measured by a polygraph is voice stress, and interestingly my husband was able to lie successfully on a polygraph.
It really is curious that so little science exists over such an interesting subject that has so many social ramifications. You might be able to find research and commentary on the science of voice production coming from Japan where vocal affectations can be exaggerated due to traditional cultural pressures and therefore probably easier to study. https://www.asahi.com/ajw/articles/15508599
There’s also a lot of stuff on the web from vocal coaches describing methods for trans men and women to sound more masculine or feminine and also articles warning regular Joes not to try to deepen their natural tone to sound “more manly” because it wrecks the cords (https://www.artofmanliness.com/skills/how-to/masculine-voice/). Yet I can’t find anything correlating artificially masculine voice (or vocal cord injuries from same) with misogynist tendencies or abusiveness.
That might be a potential red flag: guys showing signs of vocal cord damage. But even if such correlative studies existed, I’m sure the results would be split between men who damaged their vocal cords as part of their gratuitously domineering and aggressive tendencies or those who did so as protective coloring in dangerous environments or in jobs that involve keeping other rowdy men under control.
I guess that’s always the big caveat about trying to find “objective” means to detect bad eggs. Human motivations are incredibly complicated and, throughout history, attempts to develop some objective detection system frequently led to not only failure but also injustice and atrocity. Humanity has always wished that “devils wore horns” but then who decides what constitutes good and evil? Then there’s the fact that rotten people are like viruses and mutate themselves into whatever forms will evade human defenses.
In the end, it seems like nothing replaces time and careful observation for sussing out “devils” though some current behavioral experts are developing better theories and better tools for this purpose. I think research into coercive control, among other things, is really helping to create an improved early warning system: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtX-kah5phQ
Again, people don’t alter their external behavior only out of some predatory agenda but also out of fear of discrimination or trauma. Like gay men trying to pass as straight in certain circumstances to avoid bigotry or violence. Or that widdle baby voice thing. I knew two adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse who consistently spoke in tiny twee little girl voices. I gathered it wasn’t just the abuse that deformed their voices but also the general misogyny and violent hatred of adult women that hovers like a toxic gas in environments where children are being sexually preyed on (whether because perpetrators who target little girls find adult women irritatingly “useless” or because adult women and mothers often attempt to protect children and are viewed as hindrances by pedophiles who target children of any gender).
In any case, both women grew up seeing their own mothers bullied into inert puddles and getting the message that adulthood made women contemptible and even disposable (um, killable?). So clearly terror of being perceived as adult-like or competent had a lot to do with vocal quality. But the other interesting thing is that both women were, in actuality, extremely assertive, driven and successful so this left me with the impression that one of the things that influenced developing these exaggeratedly childish voices was intuitive “hypercompensation” to conceal assertive traits.
The hyper-compensation might even have been proportionate to inner assertiveness because the two women above had rather dark and aggressive tendencies at times but only when really called for (one sued a stalker, the other punched an employer who groped her and literally knocked him out cold). Unfortunately, I’ve known other women with the same kind of breathy baby voices who weren’t selectively aggressive but just generally dodgy, psycho, userish and backstabbing though the latter also never attempted to correct infantile behavior traits and instead tended to maximize those antics for gain.
Meanwhile both the women I knew were fully aware of the quirks and spent years trying to get rid of the vocal “scars” though with varying degrees of success. Despite years of psychotherapy and vocal coaching, one– a computer scientist and feminist writer– never managed to fix her voice because vocal cords can “freeze” from misuse and she lamented having to spend the rest of her life with a voice that didn’t match her intellect and personality. The other– the founder and CEO of a global company– found she could only adopt an adult tone if she spoke Italian so she actually started splitting time between countries. She’ll never sound like Helen Mirren and still has a bit of a “yappy” tone in her voice when speaking publicly but nothing like the squeaky cartoon toddler voice she used to speak in.
So the “red flags” for certain behaviors aren’t consistent, at least not for individuals who habitually speak in unnatural tones. Then it’s also a mixed bag regarding people who go in and out of radically different vocal tones. But I think the giveaway of whether this is psychopathic or protective coloring is probably the ability and willingness or inability/unwillingness to acknowledge an affectation. If someone gets angry, defensive or weirdly dissociated in reaction to even an abstract discussion about vocal affectation, vocal age regression or radical vocal shifts, look out.
But the special education attorney I hired who completely slew a rotten school attorney by turning on her breathy, ditzy Southern belle persona during a contentious meeting and then privately joked about doing it afterwards when we celebrated victory? Not only isn’t she a psycho, she’s a total hero in my book. So I tend to see behaviors (and emotions) like colors in a paint box and whether the behaviors are good or bad depend entirely on what picture is painted.
Interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man or woman who spoke in a baby voice. Which means nothing because I’m a sample of 1.
At the height of her career, I remember one reviewer saying that if Melanie Griffith regressed any more that she’d turn into a fetus.
Maybe the baby talkers tend to cluster in the more undemocratic corners of the world or industries? I worked in the ultra-rapey, top-down, male-dominated and decidedly undemocratic and feudal media industry before #MeToo and noticed especially high numbers of women who concealed raw ambition with exaggeratedly infantile behavior.
I remember having this impression when interning for certain productions where, if a guy with power and a Rolex walked through the production office, suddenly half the women would go boneless, giggly and lispy and their voices would shoot up an octave. Then the dude would leave and the same women would revert to glum monotones and shark-eyed officiousness. It reminded me of zombie films where zombies go into neutral stasis until they’re “activated” by the smell of live human brains.
I’m guessing this is either how women got past the “patriarchal” filter (stooping to conquer) and/or was a reflection of what they had to do to get or keep a job (fluffing fragile egos and dicks). It also gave me a clue that, when unchecked, sexism invariably starts to veer in the direction of pedophilia if, in order to use sex to break in and climb the ladder or simply not to be shut out, women had to act like overgrown babies.
Like I said, I knew women who just happened to talk like this because of childhood trauma but who had enough self awareness not to exhibit internalized misogyny. But I encountered far more women like this (including Griffith herself) who were nearly feral with aggression towards other women.
My experience meshes a bit with some recent studies on “hyperfemininity” or “toxic femininity” in women which correlate investment in the same exaggerated gender norms associated with “toxic masculinity” (like “women should be cute and appealing and not threatening to men”) to something called “rape myth acceptance”– i.e., the ultimate reflection of internalized misogyny. But the thing that really surprised the authors was discovering women like this– despite the latter’s belief that women are supposed to be soft and squishy– tend to be conversely more aggressive, not only to other women but towards men who fail to be knuckle-dragging and dominant enough. The type also proved to be more sexually coercive towards men, particularly in terms of using deception and manipulation but also straight out pressuring men to have sex on the view that men are supposed to “want it” all the time and, if they don’t, they’re not worthy of respect.
That might be a helpful red flag for male chumps: beware the baby-talkers or women who periodically cop infantile behavior. It’s probably also a red flag for “mate-poachers.”
As it happens, Antonia Banderas was still married to his first wife when he began messing around with Griffith who was also still married at the time herself.
Oh yikes, I never saw it before but in the film that Banderas and Griffith reportedly hooked up on, Griffith sounds more infantile than in any previous film– about age three. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bm-H4DJBfHE
I have created an account just to say that I had similar experiences, PrincledLife. My ex claimed that so long as he was currently imagining himself as being a woman, he couldn’t be abusive. He’d crossdress, and then he let loose. Afterward he’d hug a blanket like a toddler, mope around the house, and talk about how him mum never loved him enough.
I had no idea what was going on, and thought if I could just get him into therapy, he’d go back to being the person I’d been married to for two decades. I got him into therapy, and it just gave him more tools to abuse me with.
I wish I had known this was one possible face of abuse. It was so bizarre, and so outside the extra-macho abuser stereotype that I had a hard time wrapping my head around it. The FW also insisted that I had no right to tell anyone about his crossdressing, which had the added bonus (for him) that I couldn’t talk to anyone about the abuse for years…first out of loyalty to him, then out of fear.
After reading Bancroft’s book, I started to think of his crossdressing in the same way he describes alcoholic abusers having a few drinks to give themselves permission to be abusive. My ex just chose fishnets instead of booze.
Hi Singing Again:
“…alcoholic abusers having a few drinks to give themselves permission to be abusive. My ex just chose fishnets instead of booze.”
Thanks for signing in and telling what happened to you. (And let me guess, he didn’t disclose the fishnet habit until after you were married.) Everything you say resonates with me, including the part about them going into their persona as a means of giving themselves permission to abuse. I hadn’t thought about that, it’s a wise perspective and I am so…surprised, validated and horrified that others have gone through this. Hugs and love to you, because it is very scary and surreal and I understand exactly how you feel and how it shocks a wife to the core.
I have only recently been able to talk about this at all. My husband is so disordered that there were lots of very weird and unsettling things he did. And it progressed over time. You kind of get to a numb zombie place and trudge along numb to the danger and bizarrity.
It sounds like you are out of it and that makes me happy. I am following behind on your path and hope to have peace and freedom one day.
I am so sorry that you are going through this, Principled Life (and you too, Adelante). Yes, he started long after we were married, when he thought it was impossible for me to leave him (which I now know is a classic abuser tactic). I relate so much to what you said about becoming a numb zombie. It took a village of professionals, friends, and family to help me get out of that marriage, but I’m in a much safer place now.
I saw in your comment below that you’re not in a safe place yet, and you’re very much in my thoughts. I am cheering for you. I hope you have a village supporting your escape into a better life.
When I was married to my now-ex, I used to say that he was never so male (meaning aggressive and demanding) as when he was insisting he was a woman.
PL, just checking, because your post is written in the present tense (“sometimes speaks”). I hope that you are safe and faaaaarrrrr away from this person.
Hi FYI and thank you for your concern. I’m going through a divorce and there is a restraining order against him, for what that is worth. I’m not safe and I don’t believe there is such a thing any more. I think that sooner or later he will kill me.
How chilling to read. FW ex always had an especially high pitched voice when angry!
When I worked in advocacy, we heard about this happening enough that we formed a kind of armchair theory that, particularly in straight men, suddenly going unnaturally high pitched or “lispy” (infantile) when angry or in sexed-up mode might be a mark of an extremely violent and dangerous individual.
Because normal women often switch to a ditzy demeanor as a matter of social form (classic Southern belle survival mode) or in response to social pressure not to be too “strident” or “commanding,” it can be harder to spot the difference but I’ve also seen a few very scary women age regress.
This is so crazy, I’ve never heard of it before but yes. There were times his entire mannerisms and speech would change and it seemed gay to me. It was out of character and bizarre and he started doing it more and more towards the end of our marriage. I never thought of it as age regression but that makes so much sense. Especially since he ended up being a pedo. That’s so interesting. I’ve never heard anyone talk about that or read about it before but it was definitely something that used to make me feel crazy.
“and the actual words he used were very childish. Not the way an adult speaks”
Just that alone sounds like my ex.
She’d also bounce between sounding like an actual adult to “cutesy kid speak”.
But one could chalk that up to her job being speaking to kids all day.
I think the “age regression” thing tends to fall further under the radar when women do it than when men do it. It’s probably because even average women will sometimes try to soften their self-presentations in order to be acceptable or to avoid social sanction, not necessarily to manipulate or as an expression of some serious personality disorder. But one clue as to whether you’re dealing with a nervous normal person or a freak is that the former will laugh in relief if you mention how women are often under social pressure to act like they’re naive and incompetent while the freaks will get defensive and dissociate because they don’t like having their “methods” exposed.
He thought his “fate was entwined with the bears.” At least his DNA was since one ate him.
And you’re totally right, I don’t think his girlfriend was as enthusiastic about being “entwined” in that way. He appears to have cajoled or coerced her into tolerating more risk than she wanted to.
I also find most middle class types who try to appropriate tribal animism pretty Cluster B. Like why does no one ever adopt a cockroach or hyena as their animal spirit? Why is it always wolves, wild horses and (gag) “white tigers”?
Cockrosch would be an appropriate spirit animal for FW
😀
The pickup truck is to drive her sorry ass back to reality at the first sign of angst or discomfort. Your function in the marriage was the same. Ask me how I know.
Nope, never any plans. Just keep on ripping off his employer, exposing himself to various STDs and keep on juggling the numerous betrayal objects. No plans for anything beyond the next transaction, the next encounter, making sure he could get from DC to TX to go on a golf weeeknd with one, and then to Florida to get on a boat with another one…the only planning was fittting them all together. It was equally stupid to these soap-making and taco-truck plans. No reality, just what felt good at the moment. Love the puppy-snuggling. One of his betrayal objects had a career as a dog-walker (and sexual services provider)
Were we married to the same FW?
Maybe he was married to someone else–who knows! If so, I am so sorry you had to go through it, but glad you have gotten to the other side. It is so, so much better not having all that lunacy in your life. I have so many better things to do with my life…better people, better places, better activities. Glad I don’t have to worry if he took his meds, got his shots or changed the bag for his catheter. Eww. If you had one like this, hope you are long gone, too.
Four weeks prior to D day, my step daughter called and asked me what was going on. She said her dad had visited and told her that he was tired of being a Priest, trapped in a 30 year marriage, and believed he was a gift to many other woman. He needed to spread his wings and be free. Mind you, he never told me this, he had only devalued me and enjoyed the Cycle of abuse as he loved me,,he loved me not.So my step daughter knew my cheaters game plan before I did. Aside from a new job every 2 years and a different car or motorcycles every 2 years..I was actually swappable too. So his real dream was to be open to.all woman and be the gift they were waiting for.
“a gift to many other women” – GAG! These stories are more evidence of something I’ve believed for a long time which is that there’s nothing crazier than what goes on in the real world.
My FW had a similar history. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder while we were married, and thought he knew how to unite all the worlds religions. He wanted a meeting with the Pope!
But part 2, CHEATER REMARRIED 8 weeks after our divorce..back to priestly robes, back into the chains of Holy Matrimony…or just more 🎂 cake. I’ll never know, nor do I want to.
He went to Medellin, Colombia with a friend he’d reconnected with to film a “Borat”-style movie with a cameo by Pablo Escobar’s brother. Local pimps provided a handful of young women to “act”.
It wasn’t porn, just cringeily bad.
So much for 25 years of cultivating a reputation as a journalist and professor.
My ex, who after a deep (and then deeper) dive into internet porn, decided with the help of a former student with whom he “experimented with gender” that he was “a woman in a man’s body.” At first he planned to have his testicles removed, take cross-sex hormones, and transition, but when I pointed out that these things would not magically turn him from a 6’4″ 300-lb man into a tiny sex kitten and would certainly alter the way his colleagues and students perceived him, he decided he’d just be transgender without changing outwardly. He wanted to come out publicly to our colleagues (we were both professors) via our university’s informal presentation series for professors, and already had a title for his talk: “Don’t Call My Caitlyn,” modeled after the Vanity Fair cover of (formerly Bruce) Caitlyn Jenner, to indicate that despite looking and acting like the man he was he was “really” a woman.
Despite his delusions–oh, the things I could tell you–he was never anything but a fetish crossdresser, which he remains.
Pennywise wanted to start an alpaca farm. The man is too lazy to put the new roll of toilet paper on the spool, just leaves it sitting on the back of the toilet. But he was going to start and run a farm. Right.
His absence is probably a relief to alpacas everywhere.
Klootzak had the reverse of this. He had an AP lined up to monkey branch to unbeknownst to me at the time. He was 1 year away from military retirement and started suddenly talking about not working anymore but that I should work and he would be a “stay at home dad.” Except he had never done any serious parenting work before. It’s not because he was deployed all the time. He hadn’t been deployed since 2004 and this was 2019. He had ridden easy desk jobs as far as he could. He went on occasional trips to Europe but mostly he was around. He just didn’t contribute. So I was shocked at his idea but said sure, if you want to do that, let’s sell the house, downsize, move further out in the suburbs with lower cost of living. He didn’t want to do that!
Also, our child was fast approaching kindergarten so didn’t really need a full time stay at home parent. Klootzak retired 2 months before the first day if kindergarten. So it all was odd. We went on vacation to visit his father and he whined to his father that I wouldn’t let him retire. He was 47 and had worked a desk job for 15 years at that point. It wasn’t as though anyone had sent him to the Middle East and he had trauma to work out.
I later found messages from his AP, coaching him on how to get custody of our child. Being a full time dad was a shoe in, she said. Start fun little routines with kiddo now so it won’t be such a bug adjustment. He had a whole plan and his sudden desire to do some parenting was part of it. I knew it seemed fishy and later confirmed my gut instinct.
So yeah, I “forced” him to keep working because I suggested that we downsize our lifestyle to suit his dream. AP was a highly paid nurse who I assume was going to fund his stay at home lifestyle with our child to the high standard of living klootzak demanded. When he did find a job, he wanted to move us to DC where he said he would have “more opportunities.” I foolishly thought he meant for employment. He meant for APs. 🙄
How awful for him to suddenly start parenting and “fun little routines” in order to get custody. Did he really want custody, or just want to avoid child support? How did this work out?
He found a job and was promoted several times before I caught onto the AP and busted him with a 26 page PI report. He was and is still pretty checked out. He doesn’t even try to be Disney dad. I think it’s all about child support.
Trial is 5/27/25. We have a settlement conference on 5/22/25 but klootzak’s offers have been abysmal and favor him. I don’t expect him to come up with a Hail Mary. He likes to spend on himself and the AP or APs of the moment. My state generally goes 50/50 on custody so though I have asked for primary custody, I likely won’t get it since he won’t agree to it. He claimed our house is worth $300k more than it is and then was upset when his own appraiser agreed with me on its value. Then he spent $ on a vocational assessment performed on me because he insisted I could earn more money. The assessor determined I earn top dollar and would not benefit from further education. His attorney ripped it up and won’t bother giving the report to the judge.
Also, when he got the appraisal back, he took his anger out on my new vehicle, keying the side. I caught him on dashcam. His criminal trial on that is in June. So maybe he will lose his cushy job over it. 🤷🏼♀️ Consequences.
None of this is going to go well for him. I’m getting pre approval for a mortgage to buy him out (he also is refusing to give up the house) and my certified divorce financial analyst will be with my attorney and me at the settlement conference. My PI is ready to come testify at trial. I’m confident that it will all work out. I have been a 🎠 pretty pony and will remain civil. I just want him to follow court orders and go away.
Wow! You are handling this mightily! Well done. 🙌🏽
I’m glad you have a competent attorney and assorted helpers
Mine was a right bitch and did not utilize the advisors guidance nor the private investigators findings
What a liar and manipulator! And I’m concerned he may escalate.
Please make sure that keying your car comes up when custody is considered, and also the AP’s notes coaching him on how to get custody.
Have you asked the court for a Parental Responsibilities Evaluator to assess who is doing the parenting and the custody arrangement that’s best for the children? Ours advised that he have no time whatsoever, and the judge agreed.
It sounds like you are being sane and sensible despite very trying circumstances.
I’ll be sending good thoughts your way on the 22nd and 27th. I hope things turn out well for you and your child. Please let us know.
I doubt that Ex-Mrs LFTT was ever working to any kind of “Master Plan,” as she was never one for thinking things through in detail and then following through on them. I think that her general idea was that she took all three children, our house, all of my money/savings/pension, and live happily ever after with the AP without anyone ever judging her and her AP for what they had done.
My role, as far as I can tell, was to hand over the money and then conveniently disappear into the background.
It did not work out like that.
LFTT
Delusion. Entitlement. Extreme selfishness. Personality disorder. I hope you feel blessed daily that you are married to that POS.
Oops I meant to type NOT MARRIED to that
Archer,
In the nearly 10 years since she left, I have missed her precisely no times whatsoever.
LFTT
Let’s see… first he wanted to be a stay at home dad. After 9 months that was too hard so then he went back to work as a photographer. Then he wanted to quit that and open a hot springs/cold plunge industrial place in town. Then he wanted to open a wedding venue in Oregon on his cousin’s land who just inherited it (we lived 2000 miles away). Next it was become a teacher but he had to have a 4 year degree. So he started back to school but that was too hard (thank God I told him he needed to get his own student loans vs just paying cash along the way). Then it was that he wanted to coach, and teaching was a shoe in for that. On and on til Dday. Now, it’s not my problem.
Well there’s quit job, start business. Then there’s finance life mostly via unsecured secret debt. Then there’s rent equipment and borrow money for said business for 20 years. Finally, use home equity like petty cash piggy bank for secret …erm… ‘hobbies’. Yes that all worked out great!
He took early retirement and moved a thousand miles away to go to grad school and live in an adult dorm. Fortunately I didn’t move too, because it only lasted a few weeks till he dropped out and came home.
Fraudster created phony MBAS from TWO Ivy League universities to get jobs, and lacking the knowledge, was let go from each of them within a year. Even though they had hired him, he blamed age discrimination.
Like many middle-aged men, he started up a band, and got a few low-paying one-shot gigs. He played for free at a local venue, until they told him not to come back due to low community interest in his music.
Undeterred, he wrote up a list of James Taylor’s then-current tour venues, calculated Taylor’s income at each (I have his handwritten notes), and assumed that despite his lack of name recognition, platinum albums, or comparable talent, he could earn the same. He created a “tour” by using fabricated awards to get a few out-of-state gigs at coffeehouses and schools, spending much more money than he earned. As our tax preparer informed me, his music “business,” which lost tens of thousands annually on equipment, promotion, and other fees, was not a business; it was a very expensive, money-losing hobby. One that gave him an excuse to keep buying top of the line instruments and equipment that he played in the basement.
Wow. Just…wow.
I should have run fast and hard when EXFW, a deadbeat who smoked weed all day, drank the night away, and lived like a hoarder, thought he was capable of physically robbing a bank to make money; he also thought he could make copies of physical dollars, print them off and to make them more realistic throw them in the dryer to make money. He was illiterate and had zero rhythm or musical talent, yet he wanted to be a rapper, and when I laughed at that, it was the first time he called me a bitch for the first time and then sulked about it afterward. He wanted to grow marijuana in the house, which was completely illegal, where we lived, on top of him not having any horticulture experience and being so lazy he wouldn’t even do yard work. On one of the days, I found out he tried to look up the local laws for creating pornography… His argument was that he changed because he was trying to be legal, not because of the creepiness and depravity of his intentions.
When he sobered up, he really thought he could go pro and play video games. He got really into magic at the gathering towards the end. After we split up, he went nose-first into heroin and cocaine addiction after he got caught drug trafficking with his dad; he blamed me for breaking up with him for why he had to start using; he called himself a kingpin but was just a junkie. Every few years, he gets caught doing something criminally idiotic. He once compared going to jail to camping, so there’s that… He hasn’t asked about the kid he forced into existence in over a decade but has been dragged out of legal custody completely by the newest Schmoopie.
I have an in-law who is not criminally depraved but is a classic FW. He cheated on his first wife with his current spouse; he picked her up in a bar while she was on a date with someone else. She came back to hook up after the date was over. FW’s in-law and current wife’s first “date” was to a junkyard to run errands. The FW in-law said that he was separated because his ex-wife cheated on him, and his current spouse clings to this narrative; she doesn’t know why his adult children avoid her like the plague and tries to blame them for being difficult children when she met them decades ago.
The FW in-law has gone through several periods of idiotic whims. He once wanted to be a saddle maker and bought thousands of equipment. He wanted to build his own house and bought heavy industrial equipment that was still unused; he had a shipment container in his yard full of rotting windows and doors open to the elements for part of the construction. Once, he got into ice fishing and bought tens of thousands of dollars in poles. A grandkid got interested in guitar, bought 7 different expensive guitars, and will force an impromptu guitar lesson on anyone who mentions it. Another grandkid was interested in sports cards and blew over a thousand dollars on them. When one of his adult children bought a boat, he bought all his other adult kids dilapidated boats. They never asked for them and threw a massive mantrum when some said no.
Last I heard, his newest thing is antique marble. He’s blown thousands on collecting marbles, and because their home is a dilapidated mess bursting with abandoned projects of years gone by, he has since lost them. His current spouse is unwilling to wake up and see the reality of the situation. She is constantly in the red because when he blows all his money from his account, it automatically withdraws from her account. He has blown all of her retirement and inheritance on a busted camping trailer, a motorcycle he can’t ride, four-wheelers, and more broken boats and vehicles. The irony of it all is that even though he is verbally and financially abusive, she won’t leave him because she doesn’t believe in divorce…
Well seems like a turbo charged Karma bus ran her over and will soon reverse to run over her prone carcass.
I actually labored to help him build his career and get his opportunities. For at least 13 years of a 20 year marriage. When he got his captain bars, he turned cold overnight. The last year was horrible. He didn’t keep the spoils as I am sure he thought he had locked in. Turns out folks with power (as opposed to a chump with no power) get pissed when you epth them over.
He said to me as we drived by a preschool that was for sale, “I should buy that and open a music school for the deaf.” When I kind of chuckled because it was completely out of nowhere he shouted at me that I always tear down his dreams.
Then after dday he revealed he had not been paying our bills but squirreling money away so he could run off to Australia to be with his schmoopie. Who told him later that week that he would do no such thing.
Totally delulu.
It’s so weird they all use the same methods to shock and destabilize us.
“You don’t want me to be happy. SHE does.” That’s what I got. FFS
Oh and the whole music school for the deaf? He doesn’t even know sign language. That would have went very well.
He also thought it would be great if he just didn’t get a new job (he had lost his job) and I could just pay him what a preschool costs and he could stay home with our son instead. Like he hadn’t completely bankrupted me BEFORE we divorced.
OMG, CL, do you have cameras in my house? Like, this was an ACTUAL CONVERSATION that my ex and I used to have. He had this dream of owning a food truck. And he was actually a decent cook, but of course, he thought he was amazing. I’m not against people having ambitious goals. I personally have written books and started careers and bought houses when people told me it was impossible, so I think if you are really committed and have a plan, go for it. But the problem with FW’s plan was exactly what you said–he just thought he could buy a food truck, drive around and sell things, and that it would be fun. He told me he would park it right downtown in the city we lived in at the time and sell to people walking by.
I said, “Well, I doubt that is legal. You have to get permits for stuff like that. If it was legal, there would probably already be food trucks out there.”
And he got mad at me. You know, the anger FWs have when you tell them something they don’t want to hear, you dream-crusher.
So I looked up the law, and sure enough, you can’t have a food truck within X number of feet of a restaurant, and you need a permit for… etc. FW was FURIOUS, as though it was my fault that the law said he couldn’t park a food truck downtown.
This was one of many, many such ideas of his. He had a painting and wallpapering business that was always inexplicably struggling. (I found out later he was just not showing up to work a lot.) And he always had this dream of building it up so that he just did the management and ran a crew. That seemed like a great dream–but it somehow never happened.
Right before we divorced, he talked to a guy who did run a crew like that, and he came away with a new idea–he needed to buy a brand-new car. He said, “That guy has a new car, and when people see a car like that pull up to do an estimate for a job, you look successful and you get lots of money!”
So as soon as we separated, he went out and bought himself a brand new car. Oddly enough, this too failed to make him successful. Last I heard, he was using that car to drive for Uber because his business failed without me there helping him run it. And then the car broke down (probably for lack of maintenance). Not sure what he is doing these days.
Cheaters are their own punishment.
Oh, I forgot to add another one–Cheater wanted to be a pastor. He developed this dream whilst not even attending a church, nor reading a Bible regularly, nor even doing ministry work of any kind. When I suggested that maybe he ought to consider attending church if he was thinking of full-time religious work, he said he never found one that suited his needs.
I chortled at the pastor one. The new car one above is so stupid and comes off as a place that will do a crap job while charging a premium reminds me; there’s a construction business in our town with a sketchy history that has a fleet of cyber trucks with custom wraps.
Traitor Ex and primary Schmoopie, with whom he now lives and cheats on, opened their very own illicit Asian massage parlor. The ads feature images of girls who look underage, and there is a link to have the strongest THC gummies delivered to your door (along with the escort, I presume). Evidently they met in a similar establishment. Like any good practicing addict, the best way to guarantee your supply is to become a dealer.
Meanwhile, Traitor Ex has started showing up at local AA meetings and is masquerading as Mr Recovery.
You’re not losing a good person when you find out they are deceiving you and living a secret double life. You are finding out you were in a relationship with someone who is not a good person.
It’s difficult and painful to accept getting the memo after all you have invested, but rain falls on the just and the unjust and you can take some comfort in the fact that at least you got the memo when you have some life left to live as you choose.
Traitor Ex and his “sole mate” are both liars, cheaters, thieves, and criminals, and therefore are a good match. When he left the he said we were not compatible, and at the time I did not realize what an enormous compliment it was.
You’re not losing a good person when you find out they are deceiving you and living a secret double life. You are finding out you were in a relationship with someone who is not a good person.
Very true. That’s going into my list of great quotes.
To be fair, I don’t know what their agreement is about monogamy, but I do know they don’t practice it.
❤️
One of the things he said to me before leaving was that in marrying me he had “missed the boat.”
I can report that I am truly very happy for him, having secured his dream, a First Class deck chair…..on the Titanic.
Oh, good one!
So not really on subject but…my FW was and is a total workaholic. First one there in the morning and last to leave. He was completely wrapped up in work and hated that I didn’t appreciate the pressure he felt to pay for our lifestyle. I worked part time and took 99% care of the kids and offered many times to alter our lifestyle to accommodate less income…even though I’m a cheapskate and it was HIM buying expensive wine and clothes. He was soooo mad during mediation that he had to give me money bc I was un-ambitious and earned so little. Ummm…sir—you once were proud of the work I do for children and families with special needs. And I would tell him that the in my field most successful people (women—they are all women) earn about what I do bc…ahem…no one actually cares about children when it comes to $$. Fast forward to today—I work full time (not great salary but great for my field) and do 100% of the parenting. And my children respect the hell out of my work and tell me how proud they are. My ex? Welp shmoopie lost her job and finds stupid reasons to quit every job she gets (for years now). My kids think she’s lazy and taking advantage of their dad. EXACTLY like he accused me of being—lazy and taking advantage of his success! Ha! But truth be told I am quite content being a peaceful single mom with two paychecks (his and mine). So I hope shmoopie doesn’t break his workaholic nature and he gets to experience first hand what it’s like to be with a crazy lazy partner.
My ex was a workaholic, too. We had the very same job, the very same salary, and both of us were equally successful, but I managed to leave for home early enough to cook dinner every night (our offices were in the same building). That I did this was proof positive to him that I was not as good as he was (although he expected his dinner every night). After I moved out, I realized that he was leaving much earlier than he used to. His “I have to work so hard to be good” was really just an excuse for him to stay late and do…whatever it was he did.
You can be sure that your ex was (and is) working hard for reasons of his own, reasons that have nothing to do with being “a good provider.
I could have written a nearly identical post. They’re so so so unoriginal
The one joy that tides me over is knowing Fuckwit hates his job! Schmoopie was a distraction from it for awhile, I’m sure, but that’s long gone now. Fuckwit is incapable of getting himself a life without someone assisting him. I found him a different job at one point but unfortunately they sold the company & the new owners wanted to move headquarters. I was willing to but FW was not. I encouraged FW to take some retraining but he didn’t want to. Back to his old job he went. During a reconciliation (pre-Schmoopie #2) he asked me to help him get a job at my large organization. I could have but something held me back this time. Then Schmoopie #2 happened. I thank my guardian angel that he doesn’t work in my organization!! And I know he’s suffering everyday going to his job & then back home to crazy Schmoopie. Karma is always there if you look close enough. So yeah FW always had plans in his head of his greatness but couldn’t execute them.
Early on in our “mirage” my h would describe me to others as an anti-aircraft missile shooting down all of his ideas that he was trying to pilot.
His ideas? If it gives you any indication I had to work hard to talk him out of us getting married in gorilla costumes, and to have me, the bride, slide down into a vat of chocolate instead of walking down the aisle.
One evening at the dinner table, shortly after he had attended a conference where he was highly impressed with an Australian plenary speaker, he suddenly announced to the kids and me that we were moving to Australia so he could pursue a PhD under that academic with whom he was so impressed.
Way to get the kids excited about Australia without thinking any of it through! We *didn’t* end up moving to Australia, much to the disappointment of our kids whom he thoughtlessly and needlessly shared the plan with before breathing a word of it to me.
Come to think of it, this was right before the time of his first emotional affair, when he was obviously casting about for escape from the life he had.
Well, the wedding pictures would have been…interesting.
“His ideas? If it gives you any indication I had to work hard to talk him out of us getting married in gorilla costumes, and to have me, the bride, slide down into a vat of chocolate instead of walking down the aisle.”
Oh. My. God. In terms of reality, they don’t live in a different zip code from us, but a different galaxy.
This column may be my favorite one so far: great job CL.
Indeed, a whole different galaxy away from normalcy!
It makes me so happy that everyone is free from their FWs! I’m loving it to!
Oh my lord this is a good topic! My FW was so grandiose he was always doing AMAZING things and he wanted to tell everyone about it. After 7 years in grad school getting his masters and PhD in psychology cognitive neuroscience (yes, the researchers when articles say “neuroscience now says . . .”) while I worked full time to support him, he decided he wanted to apply to the space program to be an astronaut. He made a friend that did something similar. He really wanted to do brain science in space. I was like . . . um what about me and our marriage and family??
Several years ago he decided he wanted to develop a technology to monitor brain activity in real time as people walk through a controlled course to see as people make decisions what parts of the brain are activated. He’s currently working on this with his lab. He got prestigious grant funding for the project. We’ll see what comes of it. I think all the interest from people about what he was working on really fed his ego. I really think academia feeds the egos of narcissists. He decided I wasn’t ambitious enough because I wanted to work a normal job and have a quiet life. I think he thought a 8-5 job was too boring and he was way too interesting to do “boring” life things.
He frequently would say, “I’ve ALWAYS WANTED TO . . .” It was never anything he had mentioned before and it was something big. I always wanted to hike to the top of Half Dome. Raft the Grand Canyon. Go to space. Life in New Zealand. Whatever it was he suddenly needed to do it within the next 6 months. Nevermind we had a small child and it was the beginning of the pandemic. Or I had a 1 month old – he had to road trip to Yellowstone with me and said nursing baby. He didn’t not see or care about the difficult circumstances around which he wanted to insert his dream.
When we moved to Utah for his job and had access to big challenging mountain snowboarding, hikes, and rafting, that was what he wanted to do in his free time. He only wanted to snowboard with people who were experts. He unilaterally got a permit to raft the Grand Canyon and without asking me and organized a trip with people I didn’t know – including future schmoopie. I was exhausted and burned out with a 1 year old and a 5 year old working full time. He planned a 2 1/2 week trip and didn’t ask me if I was ok with it. I told him I wasn’t and he decided he was going to do it anyway. He met schmoopie on the trip and within a week they started their affair. After the trip he brought her to our house and introduced her to me and our kids. He encouraged me to develop a friendship with her. He organized activities for her to join me and the kids or just me or just a kid. He basically took her on dates with our family. He was completely delusional that this would go on for long. She can have him and his crazy ideas. At some point his idea of fun will diverge from hers and he’ll find a new schmoopie.
Oh the unilateral decisions and plans regardless of a spouse’s needs and feelings is all too familiar. It’s so good to be rid of that!
After D-day I waited a few weeks to confront my ex, until after my youngest graduated from high school. I then kicked him out of the house and told the kids he was away on business. Meanwhile, we saw a therapist for a few daily sessions while we negotiated the details of how we would tell the kids.
I knew we had to tell the kids soon because there was only so long he could plausibly be away on a business trip. And they needed the summer to process everything before leaving for college (one a freshman, one a junior). But the ex presented his brilliant plan to the therapist: the kids would go to college in the fall. We would make a visit to child A’s campus and tell her, then make a visit to child B’s campus and tell her. The thought of this – show up, drop the bomb, then leave them alone to deal with it – is so ludicrous that it almost makes me laugh (the look on the therapist’s face was priceless). My ex was looking out for #1, of course, so that he wouldn’t have to see the kids deal with the trauma he caused.
Your comment about the look on the therapist’s face got me remembering. After one joint session with a marriage counsellor, I had a follow-up session with the therapist alone. I told her more details about D-Day and our relationship. She had a look of absolute horror on her face and said “I think FW is a narcissist”. FW refused to go back to her, even though I didn’t tell him that I saw her again alone. Best money I ever spent to open my eyes. But then I realised how messed up the relationship was. She must have seen all sorts of lying, cheating, etc, and I got that look of horror.
I was also seeing a psychotherapist before and after Dday. She was super serious and didn’t smile or laugh much. I started seeing her thinking I had a problem with work. I was burnt out and depressed. Turns out I had a FW problem, but he kept convincing me work was bad for me and he had my best interests at heart. I loved work after D-Day. Shortly after D-Day I told the psychotherapist that FW didn’t want to go to the marriage counsellor again, but FW suggested instead we ask MY BOSS to do sit down with us and act as a relationship mediator. Serious psychotherapist just absolutely lost it laughing.
I got lucky both mental health professionals sent me on the right path to independence shortly after D-Day, especially after reading all these terrible stories here.
LFTT
Mine wanted to be a missionary in Africa. When I would explain that it would require her to live in Africa and be separated from me and our children, she would get angry. I was labeled as controlling and resented for not trusting in the Lord. I guess the minister she was screwing was affirming that she would make a great missionary. We are divorced now, and I wish she would move to Africa. There were other affairs that I did not know about. It seems like some basic biblical morals would be required for missionary work.
My first cheater back in my early 20’s kept talking about how he was going to join the military. Both his brothers were in different branches. He would talk about which branch he would join and even dragged me to a few recruiting offices. I never wanted him to join. I’m not military wife-type and I hate long distance relationships.
We broke up and we were no contact for 7 months before he started bugging me again (conveniently shirking the question when I asked him what happened to Schmoopie.)
He brought up joining the military so I said “ok then go do that.” He was disTRAUGHT. Absolutely DIS-TR-AUGHT that I didn’t beg him not to. I said you always talked about it before and we’re not together so what’s stopping you?
He confessed he never actually wanted to. He just talked about it to illicit a reaction from me. And if I don’t care if he joins now really must not care about him anymore.
…uh, yeah, dickface. You cheated on me and we broke up. After 7 months of complete no contact I do not care.
My STBX’s plan was to join the Big Brother/Big Sister program after he retired and mentor needy youth. Also to tutor children in math. And other philanthropic helpful activities. Unfortunately, or fortunately as it turns out, these goals were to burnish his image, and he disliked and had no patience with children, so he never acted on them.
Instead, he’d sleep until noon and then lay about in his underwear most of the day, until it was time to watch porn.
When his secret sexual world was revealed, it turned out he was a transvestite, among other things. So he could have entered the Big Brother/Big Sister program in both categories, kind of a buy one, get one free kind of thing. So glad for the children’s sake he did not.
This reminds me of the line from Shawshank Redemption when the protagonist asks his fellow prisoner Red if the resident prison rapists are homosexuals and Red answers, “No, they’d have to be human first.”
I think people need souls to have sexual identities and preferences whatever those might be. But I suspect those identities and preferences– along with anything else that was once human about them– become eroded in abusive personalities to the point they’ll end up raping or exploiting anyone and adopting whatever persona happens to work best for predation. That’s why I think certain types of abusers with waffling sexual identities shouldn’t be confused with actual transexuals.
Abusers should have their own sexual category distinct from gay, straight, bi, trans or nonbinary. Call them “abuso-sexuals.” That’s what your ex sounds like.
Right before he told me he had fallen in love with his SOULMATE coworker after 30 yrs of marriage, he said he was going to drive the entire Pan American highway and/or go out to sea as a volunteer with the SeaShepherd nonprofit to save the oceans. Adventures I wasn’t invited to go along with. I just remembered he also wanted to make money sitting on the beach in Costa Rica with his guitar and play music for the tourists. (He’s not a great musician FYI) I believe he’s actually done none of those things but I’m 100% no contact so I don’t know, nor do I care.
Mine had it all worked out with OWhore: they’d sneak off with our kids while I studied to build my career, and live off of my generous child support – he’d simply demand a suitable amount and I’d just pay up or else never see my kids.
Well the judge disagreed and he litigated 10+ times all the way to state supreme court then started again in another state. Meanwhile the kids are grown in college, he has a (not-so)secret 3rd family while the OWhore continues to pick-me dance and pretend to be happily married. I’m enjoying summer with my son with his amazing cooking and our peaceful gardening together.
Mine wanted to get into politics! And while I’m a political junky, they were NOT. They hated talking politics, refused to follow the news, ignored as much as they could. Getting them to vote was always a pain in the butt. But for some reason, they thought they could get into politics and sway opinion, even though they hated public speaking and hated writing. Their reason was that they thought they were good at making deals, and that they could just ask both sides what they wanted and then figure out a way to meet in the middle – and it was as simple as that! They got so mad at me when I tried to explain that this isn’t how it works, and you can’t “meet” in the middle when one side operates on an entirely different reality than the other and wants entire groups of people to stop existing.
They used this as part of their excuse for cheating on me, claiming that I always had to be “right” and that I couldn’t admit I was ever wrong. How do you even argue against that? Like, I’m always open to being wrong, and I always check myself and my opinions on the current research and evidence and I make adjustments as needed. But as soon as I try to say anything like that, it’s just more proof that I “have to be right!” Ugh!
I am so glad I don’t have to deal with that anymore. They now live with their AP – and god bless them both! They can have each other!
My fuckwit had all sorts of grandiose plans. He could read one article on a subject and suddenly become an expert. These are a few of his most recent schemes:
* Buy a houseboat and sail around the Puget Sound and Salish Sea despite having no boating experience except being an occasional ferry passenger.
* Become a professional mushroom picker even though he could only correctly identify 3 common species. When I told him I wouldn’t cook or eat anything that wasn’t those 3 species, and dared to question his mushroom picking “expertise,” he flew into a self righteous rage.
* Run an ultra marathon despite being 60 years old with no distance running experience. But he would occasionally hike uphill then jog down.
* Become a medic for the Ukrainian army. He is a nurse but has no military experience and doesn’t speak any Slavic languages.
* Become a wildland firefighter despite having only worked in the woods for a few months during high school.
* Become a New Order groupie and do lots of X at their shows despite being a retread fan of a retread band. This dream was shared with 30- year old Schmoopie who wouldn’t know what New Wave was even it creased over her and knocked her on her ass. But she dumped him.
Reality: He’s a 60 year old with a bum knee who struggles to hold down a job. But of course that’s got nothing to do with him. His co workers and supervisors just fail to recognize his greatness.
I can think of two things:
Sick leave was due to run out shortly after we signed the divorce. When we signed, he told the lawyer just in how much pain he was. Three weeks later he was back to work… Teaching!
He has since left that job (reasons unclear) and opened his own business, which I admit I resent quite a lot. First because he seems to be making quite a lot of money, while with me he had no problem with a low-paying job, because he loved teaching and “didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t teach”, and second because in that business he sells things related to a hobby that he learned from me.
I do wonder if he’s ever managed to live on a permanent holiday, though.
When Cheater blew ur life up after 18 years of marriage, I thought his affair with Susan was his first Rodeo. It wasn’t until after he was dead that I learned his cheating was likely ongoing since our dating and early marriage and my clues included something similar to what you said:
He was military with endless time commitments (I dont know how much of that was fucking around) and in order to save on childcare, I worked weekends in a hospital. Our system worked really well for child rearing but getting all 5 of us commitment-free on a weekend took Herculean effort.
Looking back now, I am sure that he was just looking to justify his betrayal telling himself that I was unreasonable. When the kids were like 2, 7,& 9, he stood in the kitchen and declared that he wanted to go to Rome. My response- ever trying to please him “OK, we can go but we must save some money and plan for it. I will have to get vacation time saved….”. His response was “Im not going to PLAN” (saying it like “plan” was a dirty word). He wanted to reassure himself that I was a shrew who kept him from his dreams and whoever he was fucking on the side could surely dash off to Rome on a whim.
I tolerated shit like this from him ALL THE TIME and now Im incredulous that I did. Th person I am now would tell him to go hop a plane to Rome with no plans and not come back.
Epilogue: Kids are adults and Im retired with a robust vacation budget and I still cant dash-off to Rome with no plan. New Husband and I stayed in a medieval tower in the center of Rome once, it was lovely – I planned it that way.
Not so much in the way of grand life plans-looking back at it she very much had the adult-child mentality of “I would do X if Y were true.” Wherein Y was only loosely grounded in reality.
The big example? She said she would be more motivated to exercise if we had a dog. I shot the idea down. A) Where we lived, we did not have the right amount of space for the dog, because 2) she wanted a specific large breed which c) were against the terms of our lease(“the landlord doesn’t have to know!”-Lady, THEY’LL KNOW WHEN THEY SEE THE BUICK ON LEGS IN THE WINDOW), and 4) she wasn’t even taking care of the extremely low maintenance cat, leaving naturally to 5E) That is one more mess I would be in charge of WHEN, not IF she didn’t feel like walking or enriching the animal in any way.
So I set a boundary. Which she attempted more than once to skirt (she actually pouted for like a week saying “you said no…” under her breath.)
I am not against dogs(though I prefer cats personally.) I even said “when we get the house or move to some place bigger, we will get a dog. Just not here”(for further context, our landlord was super sensitive about dog breeds as they’d just spent a lot of money repairing the damage from previous dipshit owners and their poorly behaved “bully breeds.”) So she set out to try and find a new place for us, the cat, and Fido. And all of the places she presented to me had even less space, were even more restrictive on pets, “but have hardwood floors and granite countertops”(“I would vacuum more if we didn’t have carpets.” And tried to tell me that my seasonal allergies were actually due to the carpets that she mysteriously could not be arsed to care for.)
I can boil my entire post today down into “Fuckwits just want things to be convenient and add seamlessly to their self aggrandizement.” But I woke up today and chose violence.
Have a Fuckwit Free Friday!
This resonates so much with my exhole. Every year had a new job and claims he was an entrepreneur. He had a kayak storage business(of course I helped financially and physically) !he never too care of. It was so disgusting and unclean. He never tracked who paid and didn’t pay. Then had the nerve to take people’s boats and stash them on our front yard and then it became my problem when I got the house.
My favorite. Always wanted to buy some rando place to turn into a bar. His dream job. Owning a bar. We could barely pay our mortgage and expenses. Yet he could buy a place. Then finally, right before dday and during wreckconcilation, he wanted to get an old airstream trailer and turn it into a mobile bar. I got him a nice truck and the trailer. Luckily we sold the trailer and I got my money back. Not the truck. Then he thought he could distill and sell that from used grape skins from wineries. I own the house now and still cleaning up from that awful mess. Yes. He was always a broke hoarder that I felt sorry for and could save. Sound familiar. Bwaaahhh. No more!!!
My FW’s thing was to build up his reputation as a saintly dispenser of business/investing advice all around town. He started his own business, sold it when it was clear it would never be a unicorn on the scale of Google, then started investing our money in whatever ventures he believed were cool and scalable.
He joined boards of various organizations. Each one of these required many board meetings, submeetings, and/or travel every year. He developed a reputation as a supporter of women-owned businesses. He said yes to everyone who contacted him needing advice or inviting him to their kid’s school auction or charity event or sporting event. He also went to the gym after work and after whatever “business” socializing he did, so If he made it home before 10 pm, it was unusual. Most of his “meetings” were over drinks, coffee, meals, etc.
If I had a dollar for every time a woman has rushed up to me at a social event gushing about my amazing FW and how much time he’s devoted to advising them about their business idea or career…it now makes me feel sick to think about. He moved heaven and earth to get quality time with other peoples’ kids but wasn’t interested in making much time to be with his own kids. He also had a zillion hobbies that took him away from us even more. So while he didn’t have one hair-brained pie in the sky scheme, his world was a patchwork of schemes designed to make him look good and hopefully “hit the big one” with all the investments.
I’m still stunned by the fact that after decades together, I never thought of him as a narcissist until the devaluing phase began a couple of years ago. (Which happened to be a few months after he met AP). Now I understand what was going on, but it doesn’t make the grief and anger any easier. I thought he was the most ethical person I knew. Ha.
I think that’s the definition of “communal narcissist.”
If you boil it down, these grand philanthropic displays are just another way to gain status to garner attention-kibbles and get laid. It’s exactly like apes vying for sexual dominance over the monkey harem to “spread their seed.” That’s why all their various humanistic rhapsodies always turn out to be so empty and never match their ugly private conduct.
That’s not to cast aspersions on people who make genuine sacrifices to support humanistic causes. But the fakes give themselves away by trying to get blown in the bargain.
Image Management is real. My ex was a pro at that. Conniving pro. ha is right. We are free.
Mine would always have these plans – pilot, engineer, teacher abroad, etc., but somehow expected *me* to get him there or blamed me if he tried to pursue a job but it didn’t pan out. He wanted to move to California because he hates our current city, but I should somehow get a work visa and get a job there and sell the house and do all the work while he rides along and he’ll find his unspecified dream career when we live there. But apparently I am “scared of change” and not supportive of his career aspirations when I said no. Oh but his scammy online girlfriends who are half his age are “so supportive” and “always positive”. Well they can take him in then.
That was my fw EXACTLY. I was working in Switzerland when I met him (he was Marine Corps stationed on Embassy duty). He wanted to move to DC and personally guard the President (he wasn’t tall enough to even be considered). I got a job at the World Bank and then he wanted to move back home to PA. So I built up a small business working from home in order to be able to take care of our new baby. Then I was offered a job back in Switzerland so we jumped at it as he was working the night shift sorting mail and hated it. After about five years he wanted to “move to Montana and build a log cabin” (neither of us had ever been to Montana), so at this point I told him to just go ahead, find a job and set us up with all the details of this wonderful log cabin we’re going to build and how YOU’RE going to finance it. Oh and don’t forget, I won’t be working but you must have excellent medical care and a pension plan – all like you’re asking me YET AGAIN to give up, just so I can make it all happen while you sit around playing the first 10 bars of John Denver’s Country Roads! He never mentioned it again – I wonder why!
Yep, I said why don’t you go find a job and house there first, while I work on wrapping everything up here and sell the house and everything. Then came the whining about how I always get what I want and never support him, blah blah blah.
As far as bonkers “life plans,” FW didn’t really have any other than having enough money to fulfill some old-timey patriarchal dream of remaining married to a helpless wife appliance while running through an ever-changing series of compliant bangmaids until he dropped dead.
But that plan only worked back when wives couldn’t divorce or even escape bad marriages without losing their children and being plunged into poverty and back when mistresses “knew their place” because only a chump’s death could create a vacancy.
I think he was really caught off guard by all the upsetting modern complications that arose from trying to continue some adulterous ancestral tradition from the old country– like an AP who, dumb as she was, still managed to dominate him with not-so-subtle threats to play the harassment card, a wife who could leave and get half and kids who were well read about things like Cluster B personality disorders, patriarchal misogyny and coercive control.
His failed dream is kind quaint and quixotic if you think about it, except instead of tilting at imaginary giants, he was waving his d*ck around at the #MeToo windmill.
Cue bad song parody of Man of La Mancha…
To dream the impossible dream
To chump the unchumpable chump
To bang all the indentured peasants
To rule like a feudal marquis…
You could have been writing this for me 🤣
My cheater wanted to open a music supplies store. Which should be fine and all, but he had absolutely no idea of what that would entail. He gave his “business plan” to an accountant friend of ours to look over. Friend’s wife told me privately her husband didn’t really know what to say because it wasn’t a business plan at all, just “I want to open a shop selling XYZ in this neighbourhood” 🤣
He talked about it being ‘his dream’. Which again, fine, but it only materialised after we had two kids and a mortgage. I said to him “I’ll support your dream, but just be aware that we’re risking the house”. He took that to mean I had no faith in him. “I just need someone to believe in me” he’d say
Oh, and the big reason behind this dream?
“If I work for myself I’ll never have to deal with arseholes again” 😂😂😂 My pointing out that landlords, neighbours, suppliers, customers, the tax department, could all potentially be arseholes, was just me pouring cold water on his dreams.
Anyway, he eventually ran off with schmoopie, and the store never eventuated. Maybe she didn’t believe in him either?
Lol I know of a fuckwit that did in fact attempt soap making career
So he saw himself as Brad Pitt in Fight Club? Meanwhile everyone else saw him as Bobcat Goldthwait in Shakes the Clown (reportedly the “Citizen Kane of alcoholic clown movies”). 😉
ROFLMAO. This was not my male FW but a friends female FW. However mine, short fat and balding, likely was preening like Brad Pitt while spending freely at seedy spas using his secret viagra stash due to early onset ED which I learned from CN is porn dick
Funny looking people can be so breathtakingly beautiful and entrancing when they have character and soul. So imagine the tragedy of being goofy and a soulless creep. They should have their own advocacy nonprofit to raise awareness and public sympathy.
Apparently porn dick can be permanent. I hardly feel sorry for the thirty+ crowd who wank themselves into it but it’s sad to think about how many twelve year olds end up permanently altered because of access to Pornhub.
I dearly hope my ex FW’s porn dick is permanent.
It will be for sure if the porn use is permanent.
But I’m not sure if science even understands why the problem may “linger on” even when individuals say they’ve stopped using porn (as many report on reddit and the Fight the New Drug blog). Apparently anyone who can still get solid “morning wood” or nocturnal erections but otherwise can’t maintain an erection without Viagra is suffering from a psychological, not a physical problem.
Some “sexperts” speculate that it’s caused by “guilt” and that the answer is to remove all prohibitions against porn. I’m sure the massive streaming porn industry prefers that view. But others talk about neurotransmitter overdose and eventual tolerance caused by such an easy and unnaturally intense “reward” that leads to a need for greater and greater intensity just to get the same “charge” until it eventually burns out the whole system and the individual can’t get a natural erection in response to any cue at all whether porn or “organic.”
Third option is that the people saying they quit porn are lying.
Whatever is the case, there seems to be something terribly “rewire-able” about sexuality if a lot of people can’t easily (or ever) switch back to factory “sexual cue” setting after creating a new “sexual template” associated with holding a hunk of glass, plastic and metal in their hands and jacking off to dozens of rapidly changing sexual scenarios in the space of a few minutes.
I’d like to see more science on it because policies and laws are often based on science and, especially in fighting such a monstrous and powerful industry, it might require serious legislation to protect hapless little kids from being permanently injured.
Furthermore, another unanswered question is whether Viagra and similar drugs are mutagenic or affect fertility. Some research says yes and some says no. It didn’t really matter that much back when it was mostly men past their child-siring years taking the drugs. But now that something like 30% of 18-30 year olds reportedly need “help” achieving erections and Viagra use among 25-55 year olds has statistically soared, the question is more important, especially in light of plummeting birth rates and rising infant mortality in developed countries.
FW #2 fancied himself a creative type, although nothing in his past life or education was anywhere near that area and he didn’t have the mental stamina to finish anything he started. First he was going to be a watercolor artist. He thought he’d be able to just stroll into a gallery and become a Famous Painter, with accolades pouring in. Unfortunately, his paintings were pure crap. Next came the Musician Phase. He spent tens of thousands of dollars on guitars, banjos, and mandolins, without knowing how to play any of them; and started writing songs that were totally unlistenable (I had to endure a few of them so I know). When that didn’t pan out, and Fame eluded him once again, he started hanging out at the local college music department. Took a class or two, got bored when he didn’t get the attention he so desperately craved, and then set himself up as a “mentor” to the young music majors. He had business cards made and everything! I think he was able to bamboozle one or two of them into hanging out (and possibly being a short-term AP), but that whole thing fizzled too. Next came the idea of being a chef, but thankfully he got tired of that before he poisoned anyone. I lost track of him shortly afterward but with that short of an attention span, lord knows what else he got into. I heard that he drank himself to death last year and I’m not the least bit surprised.
I couldn’t help laughing at “Fame eluded him once again…”
Kind of like Hitler’s attempt to be an artist as a first pass at gaining social status.
My Fuckwit used to share his calendar with me (that changed after this went down). And I saw that he’d scheduled a meeting to talk about a franchise opportunity for a ping pong place. I looked up the company and got what info I could about the up front costs and knew that there’s no way he could actually afford to do this without dipping into marital funds or our house (we’re not yet divorced). By some weird clerical error, an invitation to this online meeting was sent to my email address, so I decided I’d attend. I showed up. And you are NOT gonna believe this … his 25yo schmoopie was there. He introduced her as his marketing/social media strategist. I know he was surprised to see me. He tried to introduce me by just my first name as an investor. I unmuted myself and said, “That’s not correct. I’m his wife — soon to be ex-wife — and I’m here to learn about this business venture he’s considering investing our joint assets in. I’m here just to listen and learn. Thank you for the invitation.” It was really terrifying – and I was completely taken off guard by his schmoopie being there. My hands were shaking so bad that I had trouble writing notes. But I did it, and I’m so proud that I did.
He was absolutely shocked that I showed up. He sent me an email afterwards saying it was in “poor taste.” Oh no! Like I was so worried about decorum. He said it “wasn’t like me” to do that. Damn straight. I’m not the same woman you left.
Anyway, he’s still pursuing this stupid opportunity – which he told me he expects to *maybe* break even. But he’s not using any of my money. He’s found an investor to put up all the capital. I wonder if that’ll actually pan out once the investor realizes that there’s no money to be made in this venture and that it’s just passion/ego project for my fuckwit.
His plan was to meet with his Eastern European catfish scammer in Romania, then off for a few weeks on beach vacations to the Madeira Islands and the Azores. Then they would go to Ukraine to volunteer in the war effort. It “didn’t work out” as “she got Covid”. He was back home in 10 days. We are now legally separated. He continued with dating sites and porn. Had him move out. Did not do well on his own. Continued to decline mentally and physically, had 2 severe strokes and is now in long term care. Never could have predicted all this a few years ago.
Formerly known as Garden Lady Chump!
This sounds like my FW’s trajectory. Planning on meeting these catfish scammers. Somehow thinks 20-something year olds really want a 55 year old overweight balding man who makes just over minimum wage. Separation in the works.
Mine bought a Mercedes 500 immediately (which I apparently stood in the way of him buying during our 26 years together). I suppose he finally wanted a vehicle that reflected what he deserved and the calibre of MAN that he was. The fantasy did not quite match the reality (or perhaps it did). Because the cheater was cheap but now also more broke for leaving half the things behind and supporting schmoopie, the car was like 100 years old and you could smell the oil from its deep internal troubles from blocks away. They were truly a match until he offloaded it to probably another cheater getting his freedom wings. Then he and his nearly GenZ schmoopie had an idea for a highly originally named Tea-quila hard drinks (I won’t tell you what’s in them, it’s a bona fide trade secret). He took up motorcycling, jiu jitsu and grew a beard. Not sure how I’m not dying of FOMO.
Mine was going to live in a castle and never have to work a job. He was angry at me during the divorce because he said that because of me he had to work. I got brave at one point and actually said to him, “So, if you were single, you would have just never had a job? How would you have supported yourself?” And he glared at me so I shut up. But seriously? He was not from a wealthy family.
He did start an only fans right after our divorce. It became free pretty fast and he was just begging people to make content with him. His girlfriend started one too, I believe she was worth $3 a month. How empowering. I guess they thought they were going to become millionaires. But they were just like the majority of sex workers who earn poverty level incomes from exploiting themselves.
And the castle… he was going to mod a house to look like a castle. I told my son he didn’t have the skills for that and he brought up all the work his dad did on our old house. Um, what work? Oh, the floors, the tiled walls, the built in bookshelves, etc. Yeah, I did all that. My son was shocked. Yeah, occasionally he helped me hold something in place but that was about the extend of his contributions. He would talk big about doing things but I ended up doing most of the actual physical work.
Cheaters are people with the mind and behavior of horny teenagers who never became adults. Hence their “wacko life plans”, as an excuse for their own heinousness by lofty goals.
They believe that they are still in school and living with parents who applaud their “search for themselves” and life goals. And it seems to them that if they screw up, they will simply be slightly scolded by adults and, in the worst case, banned from attending school for a whole week. And then they will be definitely forgiven and addressed for new exploits.
They are genuinely surprised and offended when they start being treated like responsible adults. They look like juvenile hooligans caught by the police. However, this happens only for the first time, and later they turn into experienced criminals, in our case, serial cheaters.
There are simple truths unknown to cheaters:
A lofty goal is not justified by dirty means.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
You can’t enter the same river twice.
Life is not a sports or computer game – in life you cannot go back to the “beginning of the game”, forgetting about the previous result and start all over again, as if nothing had happened.
When I was in college, I read the book “The Dove” and then saw the movie. Robin Lee Grahm, then a teenager sailed his 24 foot sailboat around the globe, mostly single handed. My boyfriend at the time, a sailor himself and I decided that when we finished college, we’d get married and sail around the world in his 26 foot sailboat. Alas, he “lost his temper” during a sailboat race and knocked me overboard (and then found out that he was disqualified from the race for “losing” his crew member). A couple of decades later, I married a different guy who was building his own 36 foot sailboat. When we decided to get married, one of the conditions was that we would sail that boat around the world when we retired.
I spent the next 20 years or so learning what I needed to know to make a circumnavigation. — navigation, food storage and preparation underway, how to avoid pirates and what to do if you’re boarded anyway, how to be safe in a storm. I took coast guard classes, participated in discussion groups with people who were out there sailing around the world, attended boat shows and workshops, etc. He (the CAD — Cheating Abusive Douche) figured he already knew everything he needed to know.
He retired at 62, and was “planning” to spend the next two years until I would be eligible to retire refitting the boat for a circumnavigation. It seemed to me that he spent every day and a good portion of our income working on that project. When he insisted that the boat was ready, I needed to quit my job so we could start our journey or he’d divorce me and go without me, I quit my job. We sold our house and everything we owned that wouldn’t fit on the boat. And on December 30, we moved aboard the boat. Only for me to discover that while the boat LOOKED awesome with shiny varnished woodwork and and refinished table and ladder, he hadn’t installed the furnace, finished the water tanks, cleaned out the diesel tanks, repaired the stove, repaired the leaky ice box, replaced the faulty electrical wiring, repaired the head that often spit the contents at you when you attempted to pump it out, sorted out the problem with the holding tank, fixed or replaced the depth sounder, replaced the anchor he’d lost . . . or any one of a number of other essential tasks. (I’m pretty sure all that time and money went into using the boat as a floating sex palace for his secret double life.)
After a year living on the boat “working on it,” we finally left the marina and started south. It was then that I discovered the fundamental differences in our respective life plans. I intended to sail around the world, making friends around the globe and visiting all of the exotic locations I’d been reading and learning about. He intended to stop at every dive bar and tavern he could get to by boat and drink himself stupid. Those plans were incompatible. When Hurricane Irma came calling, he sat on the settee smoking weed and drinking Jack Daniels while I prepped the boat to ride out the storm with the help of the crew of the boat next to us. (They had a vested interest in us not smashing into their boat.) My D-Day came when the hurricane was battering our boat and flooding the city.
I swallowed the anchor and am living in the midwest, a thousand miles from the nearest salt water. I arrived with four boat bags full of stuff and my dog and got a job as soon as the divorce was final. I now own my own home, furniture, kitchen stuff and a car. He’s still a boat bum, smoking weed, drinking Jack Daniels and sponging off his relatives. From what I hear, he still has Schmoopie, though. Her wealthy husband died so I imagine he’s doing OK, and may even have moved into her house.
Six weeks after our wedding, Sparkle Dick was fired from his job. (He was fired for committing fraud.) He didn’t seem to be interested in looking for work. He just went to the golf course every day. I finally asked him what his plans were. He told me that he was going to become a pro golfer. I asked how that was going to happen and he said that he was sure that since my Dad really liked him that Dad would sponsor him.
I am from a golfing family, my brother is a pro +2 handicap, Daddy scratch. so I am pretty well versed in what it takes to perform at the professional level as well as the costs to start.
Sparkle Dick never held a club until after college. He played occasionally, maybe twice a month. At public courses that weren’t exactly known for difficulty.
I was the bi+ch that didn’t believe in him because I said that “I’m pretty sure you have to be able to break 100 to play with Tiger Woods”.
A little late but I just thought of this. As a short review, I pretty much sacrificed and scrimped and save so he could have his beloved boat, early in our marriage. That is pretty much where all our money went. We did enjoy the boat, so it wasn’t bad.
Anyway fast forward to about year 19, our son had recently graduated HS. He decided when he retired at age 52, we would sell everything and buy a boat to live on and basically just be river rats. I pretty much for the first time said, nope. I had just started my job with the govt and I wanted to see what I could do. I told him if he wanted to get a bigger boat we could certainly sell out and rent a small apt, and I would go with him on vacations and such; but that I absolutely didn’t want to live on a boat, or quit my job. I was drop kicked two years later. :).
Note: He never did get his river boat, he retired early, bought a business, gambled it all away and ended up bankrupt. He was after a few years able to buy a brand spanking new huge RV, that there was no way he could afford. My son begged him not to do it. He died a year later, and wife turned the RV back in to the company, but because he rebuilt some areas in it, they couldn’t get as much for it, so she has to make payments each month until it is paid off or she passes. They can’t take her trailer because before he died he put it in her sons name to prevent anyone taking it.
Quite frankly I never understood why he remarried. She would have lived in a tent, or row boat as long as he paid the bills. She didn’t have a lot of options. He could have easily bought a boat and lived it it after retirement; but he retired early because he lost his status. Who knows why he turned so heavily to gambling.
I might have actually been the obstacle. Months after I escaped her abuse and went no contact, I received a call from a potential employer as she had listed me as a reference…! Besides the surprise that she actually applied for a job (or was it one of the job applications I submitted for her?), I ended up not calling them back as I thought that was enough of a significant statement. But, what I wanted to do, was to call back and inform the potential employer that hiring her would be a guarenteed sexual harassment/assault lawsuit because of her past history of predatory behavior towards friends, family, and coworkers alike.
Stupid Cheater Life Plans, yes. Im late to the party on this thread and have told this story before but for the newbies…
Cheater was at the end of his military career he forever talked about returning to California from the midwest place where we were stationed so he moved us east. You are clever if you noticed that California is not east of the midwest…I had to remind him of this on the regular (“if you wanted to move west, why did you insist that the military move you east?”)
Anyhoo…he was miserable in the midwest an the was miserable in the east. I dont know how much of that was dealing with fallout of his Cheater behavior that I didnt discover until much later.
So, I found proof of an affair with a purchasing agent for a company he was negotiating with on behalf of the Federal Govt to buy lots of stuff. Her employer had to fire her lest they end up looking like they sent a honey-pot to coerce the deal. Her firing likely exacerbated his angst and sped up their need to decide what was next. Faster than he was expecting, he looked like “That Guy Who Dumps His Family For a Younger Woman” and he didnt have the inner fortitude to endure that since he had his previous canoodling without being found out.
He flip-flopped on stay with Unicorn / leave for Susan / Unicorn and kids / Susan / Uni/ Susan and he did this on an hourly basis.
in the morning he was leaving, by afternoon we were remodeling our home and by afternoon we were buying a big house in a nearby fancy neighborhood. Everyday.
For a while, his plan to leave was the one he chose. He had it figured it all out: buy wife and 3 kids big house and Mercedes. Marry Susan in Washington state and start family. Frequently fly first kids 3000 miles to where you live with Susan and have glorious time since kids will surely not mind the trip and love Susan who in return will think your neurodivergent teen sons are just adorable. Insure Susan can be a stay at home mom in a fabulous house you buy her. First wife will be great with this and the 2 wives will become great friends.
This plan would have had a good start if he made the $400 or $500 K per year that would fund such a plan, but he was pulling in about $125,000 which wasn’t going to do it. I knew this plan was doomed so I went to the meeting with the mortgage guy after we looked at the big house so that I could call him later and sabotage the deal by telling him the truth of Cheaters plan to wildly overextend himself.
Looking back now, I was a fool to allow myself to be jerked around so wildly. He moved away for 18 months and on the very call where I was ready to tell him to not return home, ever, he told me he was coming home for good. I didnt set any terms/boundaries for this wreckonsillyation and it was miserable. He lived 7 years then died unexpectedly. I was a genuinely grieving widow until I started finding proof of deeper betrayals a year or so after he died.