Where did things go wrong? Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? Why me?
Or perhaps I am just fooling myself. The sad and sobering thing is I know the moment when I stopped being the director of my own movie.
It was the moment when I made a conscious choice to set my life down this path. The moment when I allowed lust and a need for excitement to make my choices for me. That is the moment I gave it all away. All of the soul searching I am doing right now is simply me trying to justify that decision and make me feel like less of a loser.
A lot of people look at the bad things in their life and say that it all "spun out of control". These people are deluding themselves. Truth is, things rarely "spin out of control". People who believe that have a victim's mentality and don't want to - or can't bring themselves to - take responsibility for their own bad decisions. More often than not, a person would be better served looking for the moment when they gave up control. People who consistently can't pay their bills can find moments when they made a foolish spending decision and purchased things that they had no business buying. Merovingian from "The Matrix Reloaded" describes this truth of life as causality. Action, reaction. Cause and Effect.
Simply put, Choices have consequences. When a person makes the wrong choice, they suffer. Period. If you stop playing the victim and are honest with yourself, you will find the source of your pain in the mirror.
This moment of clarity, my epiphany if you will, didn't just happen suddenly. It has been about 10 years in the making. That is how long I've known Naomi, my wife. Married for eight years, she has been a constant source of lectures in my personal school of hard knocks.
My tale goes back a little further though. You see, I have long been willing to view myself as a victim. I was raised in an environment that catered to me constantly. Growing up as a kid, I really didn't have to work hard at much. Let me explain.
I was a miracle baby for parents who were told that they would never have kids of their own. Something about my mom's uterus not being able to carry a child full term. Devastated by this news, they went through hell. I've been told that they came really close to calling it quits. They eventually found a way to heal each other, and in doing so, found the love that they'd forgotten. Once past the pain, they decided to start a family through adoption.
My parents soon found out that adoption was not easy. It was a grueling and rigorous process. They paid a lot of money and were put under a microscope for months. Everything was brought to the light. Finances, past relationships, parents, medical history. Everything. They held their resolve though, and their reward was a beautiful 2 year old girl.
Life is a comedian at times. Three months after my parents adopted Trina, my mom found out she was pregnant with me. The doctors weren't very optimistic about her chances to actually give birth to me. At first my parents tried to keep their emotions in check, maintaining a certain amount of distance from the child in my mother's womb. They had found their way back from the edge of divorce and they weren't going to let this put them through that pain again. But feelings of anticipation became inevitable around month six. By month seven, my mom wasn't allowed to do anything but lay in the bed with her feet up. Despite their precautions, I was born a month early.
While I was strong enough to survive with the help of diligent doctors, I still was pretty sick as a small child and required a lot of attention. I eventually grew stronger and healthier. The only thing that has lingered is the fact that I am diabetic. Not the fat people kind of diabetes, but the kind that you are born with.
Anyways, you can imagine how much my parents doted on me. I never wanted for anything. All I had to do was ask. If that didn't work, whining was a decent second option. If that failed, all out tantrums worked. Even as a teenager I could almost always get my way. Sure, the tantrums changed from sprawling out on the floor kicking and screaming to me simply giving my parents the "silent treatment" until they gave in, but a duck is still a duck.
My sister did not have it that easy. My parents made her earn everything that she got. They were hard on her. If she brought home a B, they asked her how much longer could she have studied to get an A. They stayed on her about her chores. On top of that, she was often held responsible for MY fuck-ups. "If she were a better sister, I wouldn't have done it." You get the picture.
You may be getting a wrong perception of sister's place in our parents' hearts. Perhaps you are imagining a Cinderella type family. But it wasn't like that. My parents have always loved Trina from the first moment she came home. She was everything that a daughter should be. They were hard on her, but I think that may have something to do with the family that Trina came from. I never found out the full story of why my sister needed a new family, but over the years I've heard bits and pieces. I think her biological mom was a prostitute and her biological dad was a drug dealer, but I'm not completely sure. Nevertheless, my parents were determined that she would not pay for the sins of her parents.
Despite their good intentions, life in our house always gave the perception that I was the favorite. I even believed it for a while. I know she did. The catch phrase of our childhood was, "I bet you wouldn't care if Josh did that!"
You would think that this would breed some contention and strife between us, but it wasn't so. Oh sure, we got into it countless times. I was selfish, she was bossy; I was a spoiled brat, she was a stuck up bitch; you know, the usual stuff. But she was a great big sister; she always took care of me. We weren't best friends who hung out all of the time, but we were very close. Every time I have needed her, she has always been there. Nothing has ever kept her from helping me.
Because I always had a great safety net growing up, I never really suffered negative consequences for bad choices. If I stole something from the store (only happened once, I swear), my sister was blamed for not watching me. If I got a bad grade, my parents blamed the teacher for not teaching it properly. If I got in a fight, my sister, the teacher, and the other kid's parents were blamed. You get the picture.
I eventually grew up though. I went to college and learned how to repair electronics. I wasn't an engineer per se, more like an engineer technician. I don't build anything. Instead I fix the things that others build. It is the difference between an Automotive Engineer and a mechanic. After I graduated I got a job with a company that has contracts with the several factories. We maintain, repair, and upgrade their machinery. It was a very well paying job.
Still, my victim's mentality emerges at times. I have had times where I still reacted like that premature baby who depended on others to give me what I needed instead of finding it within myself to get it. It's hard to overcome the characteristics that you develop as a child. My sister, my wife, and my parents, all - at some point or another - were a crutch for me.
But life, oh boy, life can be a heartless teacher. Life works overtime to beat into our brains the things that we didn't learn as children. Hence, my marriage.
As you hear my story the word cuckold may pop into your mind time and time again. While I never consciously thought of myself that way, I can see how the term could fit. There is a stereotype of the kind of guy I am in association with that title; short, nerdy, maybe a little bit fat. Oh, and of course, the proverbial little dick. You know, the kind of guy that doesn't have women knocking down their doors and ripping their clothes off. But that isn't me. While I'm not particularly tall, I'm definitely not short. I played basketball and football in high school, so you can pretty much guess what my physique is like. I had my first non-solo orgasm at a fairly young age due to a blowjob, and shortly after that I found the pleasures of vaginal sex with a different girl. I have had pretty decent sexual encounters since then. While I wasn't fucking all of the time like Hugh Heffner of old, I wasn't lacking in horizontal company. All in all, I was comfortable with the fairer sex. I was about as successful in my experience with them as most good looking guys are.
However, Naomi is no ordinary woman. Let me tell you about her and how we started.
TEN YEARS AGO
- May 2005
