A Letter to My Narcissistic Ex

"You're so vain. You probably think this song is about you." Carly Simon

Photo by Joshua Hoehne on Unsplash

(I have had a bronchial infection all week so there will be no audio file of today’s post. When I stop coughing up a lung, I will record one!)

Dear America,

It’s been almost two years since our breakup.

I realize you’re too vain to believe anyone would actually leave you… taking some space I believe you called it. Your taunt still rings in my head, “Leave ME? Try to find someone better.”

Of course, I have come back to you in the past. Why wouldn’t you just wait for me to come crawling back again?  I think what hurts the most is that you didn’t even reach out after I left to say, “Hey are you ok?”  “Can we talk about this?” “Did I say or do something to make you want to pack your things and leave in the middle of the night.”

That’s the problem.  You just don’t care.

I’m not sure you ever did.

It’s kind of brutal.  Wondering if I’ve been the fool all along.

I still think back to the beginning when we were so happy and seemingly so in love.

There was so much promise and opportunity.  I thought we had a chance to build a beautiful life together.

I like a fool ignored the warning signs.  The crippling cost of my college education.  The gas lines that my father had to wait in just to be able to fill up the car to get to work.  The war in Iraq.  Sandy Hook. Like most good codependents I gave you the benefit of the doubt.  “Everyone makes mistakes,” I argued.  I was always so quick to defend you even when my heart broke a little with each act of indifference to my well-being.

My friends would say “Leave him.  Come to Europe where we have free health care, six weeks paid vacation, and rational gun control laws.”  I would smile because they just didn’t understand the addictive quality of a narcissist relationship.  When you’re good you’re SO good and can make a girl feel like anything is possible.  You, with your sweet love notes with words like “land of opportunity.” “Give me your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”  I kept those notes.  They’re in a box under my bed.  I know you probably love hearing that – a sign I’m not really over you.  Maybe, I’ve just been afraid that if I left for good, you’d finally change and the next girl would get all the benefits of your love.

You always seemed to know when I was getting wobbly again. When your neglect and subtle abuse was starting to run thin again. Then like clockwork you’d pull out some sweet gesture. A little affordable care act here a little tax break there. Just enough to keep me hoping that this time it would be different. That you’d really changed. That a middle-class girl really had a chance with you.

That’s the problem isn’t it.  The gaslighting.  While it’s all sweetness and caring on the outside behind closed doors you always made me feel like somehow all our problems were my fault.  That if only I changed the relationship would work.  “Look at all the self-made millionaires.  Look at the innovation.  I have Tesla.  I have Microsoft. I have Hollywood.  I have Disney.  If you’re not happy in this relationship maybe there’s something wrong with you.” It’s scary how easily you could manipulate me.

It took me awhile but I’m finally in a serious relationship again.  His name is Portugal.  A friend set me up on a blind date.  I don’t usually go out with someone I haven’t met before but I’m glad I did.   It’s nice to finally be with a guy that makes me feel safe:  Not wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.  I can afford a house here.  I have excellent affordable health care.  My son is safe and has a freedom here I wouldn’t feel comfortable with if I came back to you.  People here don’t have to work three jobs just to make end meet. It’s nice. 

I know what you’re thinking she’ll get bored.  I’ll admit the relationship doesn’t have the passion I used to feel with you.  At times I do wish he was just a little more ambitious.  Rumor is, in his youth, he was quite the explorer. Maybe I just don’t know how to be with someone mature and stable. I hate to think that Portugal is just my rebound relationship.  I mean we’ve bought a house together.

I will admit that my eyes have started to wander.  I went on a date with Dubai last month.  I didn’t cheat on Portugal - not really. I was just exploring my options. What’s the saying, married not dead, right?

It was amazing.  I was surprised actually because based on his profile I didn’t think we’d be a good match.  Granted he’s drop dead gorgeous and has a lot of money.  What’s a girl not to like, right?  I’m not that shallow, though. 

Photo by ZQ Lee on Unsplash

What surprised me is how worldly he is.  How many people are there from all over.  As I looked around, I felt something stirring in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time – Possibility.  I was also touched at how despite having a very clear religious preference in his bio I never felt like I had to sign up for his beliefs.  It was inspiring actually, and I came away from the first date seriously hoping he’d call again. 

That’s what made me sad.  I realized that’s how so many people including me, used to feel about you.  Possibility and opportunity.  Freedom and acceptance.  Safety and stability. So many people came to you believing in what you had to offer as a better life.

Now look at you.  You just seem like a tired, old, paunchy middle-aged man still trying to live on the merits of your yesteryears’ glory.  When was the last time you really did anything impressive? 

I realize some younger girls might still be impressed by your star power, but they’ll eventually see you for the self-absorbed, indifferent guy who doesn’t seem to care how he hurts the very people he claims to love.

I mailed off the child support check on April 15th. Love that. I leave and you still want my money. Don’t you have any self-respect? Please, at least reassure me that you’ll spend it on the kids and not the usual hookers, bombs, subsidies for bloated industries and cocaine.

I realize we still have to work out the custody and visitation issues.  There are people there I really miss and worry about.  Just to be clear if I do come back, it’ll be for them, not for you. 

Oh well, I’m not even sure why I’m bothering to write this…I doubt you’ll even read it. I just needed to get some things off my chest.

I really do wish you the best,

M~