I tried to save my marriage, I honestly did. I grew up in rural Ohio in a family where martial values were just as important as going to church every Sunday. Words like divorce, separation, and affair didn't exist in our family vocabulary. My parents have been together for over fifty years and my grandparents had been together for over seventy. So when I made my vows, I naturally thought it would be forever.
I met Daniel in college during a beach party where I had a little too much to drink and threw up all over his feet while we were standing around the campfire. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't a big drinker by any stretch and it was actually my lack of drinking experience which led me to throw up in the first place. But everything happens for a reason right? I looked up at him and slurred an apology and although I was expecting a look of disgust followed by some expletives, he surprised me with a smile and laughter. Nineteen years and two kids later, thinking of that moment always makes me smile. Now it makes me cry. I tried to justify the break up the only way I knew how. I blamed myself. Was I not attractive anymore? Was I too boring? Did I not please him in bed? Was I not supportive? Was I neglecting him? I had too many questions and not enough answers.
It was a Sunday when my life as I knew it would change forever. I remember we were arguing about taking a vacation, something we haven't done in many years. He promised that when the kids were older we would travel and see the world together. I was still up for the adventure, but it was something he says he has no interest in doing anymore. We were in the middle of our debate when he burst out "This marriage isn't working anymore!" Those were the infamous words he said to me the day he decided it was over. It's been four months since we separated and those words still twist the dagger in my heart. I tried to make things better, I really tried. I suggested we do things together like we did before the kids; we could have a date night, go away for the weekend or find a hobby we could do together, but nothing seemed to appease him. And in a final act of sheer desperation I begged "Please, stay for the kids, they need their father!" But he shrugged it off and walked out the door.
Don't get me wrong, he's a great father, a fantastic father and I know he will always be there for them. Just not for me. So for the past month I've been seeing a therapist in the hopes of helping me put things in perspective (really to vent to be completely honest). She's been fantastic! She said his type of behavior is quite common and that in most cases the husband returns.
"He needs time to refocus, to reenergize, to take a little vacation away from domestic life," She said. "Men are simple. They tend to react rather than appraise a situation. Think about it Karen, he never gave you any cause for concern, never once mentioned anything about separating and then suddenly says 'This marriage isn't working anymore.' It sounds a little too impulsive to be real," she explained.
I nodded in surrender and let her continue.
"Listen Karen, I can't promise that he will come back, but most of the time they do. In the meantime, take this time to refocus and reenergize yourself. We all need it," she suggested.
I continued to see her twice a week for the last two months. She gave me advice on how to talk to my kids, staying positive and even more death defying, how to approach the subject with my parents. But the best advice she'd given me was when she said "Karen, you have to think of ways to make yourself feel better. A little self improvement will bring back your self esteem and your confidence."
During the next few weeks I developed a routine of going to the gym and eating healthier. I was slowly feeling good about myself again. I would spend two hours at the gym every day after work. I try to mix up my routine between cardio, weights, elliptical, yoga and aerobics. I felt like I was thirty again; full of energy, full of life. The workouts made me feel good physically, and the hungry looks from the men made me feel good mentally. I never had a problem with weight. In fact, since I've been working out, I don't even think I lost a pound. But I have become more toned and I have a lot more energy. I'm not glamorous nor will I ever be on the cover of any magazines. I'm what they call a small package. I'm 5'4, long auburn hair just past the shoulders, hazel eyes and a newly formed relatively fit body. Most men would considered me more cute than pretty, but I have been called both. My secret is quite simple, I let the gym take care of my body and a little hair colour and make up does the rest! And at 43, I can still manage to raise a few eyebrows.
It didn't take long for my kids and my co-workers to notice a difference in me. Who can blame them really? It was only a couple of months ago when I was walking around the office like a heart broken wreck. Thankfully, my kids were more understanding and simply called me "Zombie Mommy." But all of that changed in time and I was able to use what I learned in therapy to portray myself as a more confident shell of a person. Yes, only a shell, because deep inside I was still scared, insecure and vulnerable.
Two weeks ago my boss sent me to the annual sales seminar in Chicago. I didn't want to go, but I didn't have a choice. I had a routine now and I loved it. Besides, the last thing I want is to be at some boring sales seminar surround by a bunch of sheep handing out business cards with a greasy handshake. But like I said, I didn't have a choice. Every year, five hundred mid size businesses were invited to send one representative and this year was my turn. Oh, Lucky me! It was a three day event and each day was filled with numerous sales training classes that you can choose to attend. There was one for 'How to Market Yourself,' 'Effective Communication,' 'Keeping Motivated,' and one that was simply 'Selling Yourself.'
I attended this seminar five years ago. The classes were lame, boring and very basic. Not that it mattered because these classes were just a front for what this seminar is really all about... schmoozing. It won't say it in the brochure, but that's exactly what it's really all about; meeting reps of other firms in the hopes to sell your product to them or to trade customer lists. It's no wonder why every firm sends their representative with a plane ticket, an itinerary and five hundred business cards. Typical sales logic, every opportunity is a sales opportunity.
Usually when I go away for business I always had the comfort of knowing that I could call Daniel throughout the day. It was reassuring to know that someone was waiting for my call, that I wasn't completely alone, that perhaps, I was even missed. Even my kids are old enough now that they have their own lives and can take care of themselves. Kimberly just turned 18 and Ryan is 16. A call from me would seem like I was just checking up on them. I doubt that they would even answer. In fact, they always told me to text. A true indication that they don't need to hear my voice. This trip was going to be harder than I thought.
I arrived at the hotel at 9pm, took a quick shower and plopped myself on the bed and turned on the TV. I was more restless than tired, but more than that, I was hungry. I looked at the clock and it was just after 10pm. I remembered there was a tiny family restaurant in the lobby and wondered if they would still be open. Only one way to find out! I threw on some jeans and a sweater and headed for the restaurant. When I got there, all the chairs were up on the tables and the employees were definitely in clean up mode. I turned to leave when I heard a waitress call out to me.
"Hi, Can I help you?" she asked.
"Oh, sorry. I was just coming to get a bite to eat, but I can see that you're closing...."
"The dining room is closed, but the bar is still open. If you like, you can sit there and have something to eat from our late night menu?"
"Sure, that would be great!"
"Ok, follow me," she said, as she grabbed a menu.
I couldn't help notice how young and pretty the waitress was. I figured she must be in her early twenties. Her body was still tight and firm and her black yoga pants accentuated her curves. She probably works nights and goes to school during the day. I'm sure her body hasn't even seen a gym. Oh, how I wish I could be that young again! She pointed to a seat at the bar and I literally had to hop on. The waitress gave me a smile like I just performed a circus act. What a pretty smile she had. This girl was just too cute! She handed me the menu and told me that Dennis (the bartender) will take my order. And with that, she smiled a good-bye and walked away. I couldn't help but admire her body one last time. To say I was envious would be an understatement.
I sat at the bar taking in my surroundings. The bar wasn't long by any stretch and judging by the amount of stools, it could seat only four at a time. Cozy. Being a family restaurant, they probably didn't get many bar flies. Sports memorabilia decorated the walls. Framed photos and signed jerseys were hung up instead of those tacky neon beer signs. I focused back on the menu hoping that something would spark a craving. Dennis finally revealed himself, he was in his sixties, more salt than pepper hair and he wore one of those old fashion white aprons. He had this sweet grandfather look about him and you knew, if given the chance, he would talk your ear off. He probably didn't get many customers and was anxious to get his apron dirty. I ordered a glass of red wine with a Chicken Caesar Salad and he responded with a cordial, "As you wish." Ten minutes later I was stuffing my face. Dennis kept me company while I ate, talking about his kids, his grandkids and how he met his wife. Family life was somewhat of a sore spot for me at the moment, but I didn't let that interfere with his enthusiasm for sharing stories. He was very sweet, charming and his voice was very comforting, the kind that you only get with age.
