I love my husband.
After reading this, many people will say that I can't claim to love him because of what I do to him; but I do. I love him with everything that I am. As corny as that sounds it's true. I can't imagine my life without him. He's been my anchor, my home, and my heart for the last nine years and if he knew what I've been doing to him behind his back, I know for a fact that it would rip him apart from the inside out.
I was born to an upper middle class suburban family in New York State. My father is a doctor and my mother a housewife. I have an older sister, Sonja, as well as an identical twin sister Marilyn.
Despite being a twin, my dad always gave me special attention. I guess it was because he could see more of himself in me than he could in Sonja or Mary. He always spent a little more time with me than he did with my sisters; he always did special things for me that he didn't do for anyone else.
My mother disapproved of it of course. She had this idea of bringing my sisters and I up exactly the way she wanted. And she wanted us to be conservative, quiet, and ladylike so that we could one day marry rich and have everything provided for us; whereas dad just wanted us to do what we wanted and not have to depend on someone else for our well being.
Considering the way most families work that seems backwards doesn't it. Usually it's the father who wants his girls brought up to be ladylike and the mother wants them to be independent. But that's the kind of family I live in completely opposite to the conventional. Unfortunately, my mother ruled our house with an iron fist, so dad's opinion wasn't heard that much.
Sonja conformed exactly the way mom wanted her to and mom's favourable opinion of it showed. She ended up marrying a complete asshole that just happened to be a significant shareholder in a multi-national corporation. They have two children together and although I love my niece and nephew, I can already see what their father's opinionated, egotistical, and sexist views are doing to them.
Marilyn also did what mom asked; though in retrospect I think it was more out of spite for me than her actually agreeing with what mom believed. Compared to Sonja, Marilyn's a little bit more of a free spirit, but still very much under the thumb of our mother. Mary did what mom asked but only when mom was just about ready to throw the book at her, for lack of a better term.
Now, like I said, I was more like dad growing up and so I grew up the way daddy wanted me to. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted, and I didn't care about the consequences, and my mother hated it. I would get a verbal reaming at home because I was out too long and didn't call, or some other matter.
The first time mom shouted at me my dad stepped in and started arguing with her saying that I was just doing what was normal for a teenager. As soon as he did, however, mom gave him a glare, and told me to go to my room. Once the door was closed mom let loose on dad and her barrage didn't end for three hours.
Three days after my mother berated my dad, I snuck out after dark to spend the night with my friends after my mother specifically told me I couldn't go. When I got back mom started shouting at me; after five minutes I looked towards my dad standing in the corner of the kitchen. He wouldn't meet my eyes, and I knew there wasn't going to be any more support from him. Ever.
So I did the only thing I could think of, I started shouting back.
I can still remember the look on her face when I talked back to her that first time. Complete and utter shock was written all over her fine features. Sonja and Marilyn couldn't believe it either. For a brief second I thought I had won. But once that brief moment was over mom came back harder than before, which only made me shout louder at her. And thus began the great verbal battles between mother and daughter in the Galawick household.
From that point on, whenever I did something mom didn't like, she and I would yell at each other for a good hour and a half. After which, when dad had finished calming mom down, he would sneak up to my room when I was still crying, give me a hug and kiss and tell me, "Good girl Jenny." And then he'd go back downstairs.
Nowadays I try to stay away from mom and dad as much as possible. About the only time I see them are holidays and family functions. My mother and I don't get along at all and whenever we get in the same room a fighting match always ensues. I have to say with all honesty, it's mostly mom's fault. Whenever I walk in the door she immediately starts criticizing me. Everything I do goes under the microscope. Dad at least tries to change the subject, but Marilyn always brings the topics back to me.
Marilyn and I get along even worse than I do with my mother.
We've been at odds with each other since we were born. She says I'm a spoilt little brat and I say she's an obsessive compulsive. She's too much like mom for her own good, always trying to control every little thing that happens in her life. When we were younger I tried to get her to loosen up, but she idolized Sonja. And since Sonja idolized mom, Marilyn became very much like mom.
She does have a rebellious streak in her though. A couple of times she broke mom's rules. Whenever she did though, mom came down hard on her. Nowhere near as hard as she did on me, but hard nonetheless. After a few times I was pretty much left as the only rebel in the family.
In any case, Marilyn and I actually fight worse than my mom and I do. It all really started in high school. To say that I was, and still am, "quite promiscuous," (Marilyn's wording) would be a gross understatement. Marilyn, however, is what you would call an "uptight conservative bitch," (my words). Since I was known for not being the most selective girl in the world when it came to sex, everyone thought that, simply because she was my twin, Marilyn wouldn't be either. Boy were they wrong.
