Jackasses, Joyless, Jeopardy
My mother uses the term jackass when she discusses the very few men she doesn’t like. It’s much nicer than the term(s) I use but since it falls in line with my “J” list, I will use it. Wink, wink
So, let’s just start with the fact that my picker was broken. I had some kind of watermark tattoo on my forehead that alerted the nearest jackass to make contact with me. I was a jackass magnet. Now, I know we run across these types of people every day and if you are an emotionally healthy person, you know exactly how to deal with them. However, if your picker is broken like mine was, you cling to the slightest attention they may pay you and then the dance begins.
Let me just give you a brief overview of the jackasses I married:
#1 – This man was controlling and meticulous. Everything had a place and everything was to be in its place. If I dusted the furniture and moved anything out of the exact spot that it had been in, he would go behind me and fix it. Eventually he would blow a gasket when I just wouldn’t get it because I didn’t care if it was “exactly” in the same spot. He actually lost it when I had the day off and took his little sister to the mall instead of doing laundry. That’s when I finally kicked him out. I knew he was going to hurt me someday and I didn’t want to live like that any longer. He did end up going to jail for beating and raping his next wife when she was divorcing him and I am so grateful God gave me the strength to get out in time.
#2 – I had known this man since I was 14 years old. We were together, off and on, for three years in high school. We reconnected after my divorce from #1, got married and had two amazing children. Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep it in his pants. I tried (not him) to salvage our marriage after I found out about his affair but one night he came home and told me that he had run into her and she wanted him back. When I asked what he told her he responded, “I told her I have to think about it.” Yep, done.
#3 – Well, as I said in my “D” post, I went straight to the prison yard to get this one. Who does that? Broken people.
There were so many more jackasses, than just the three I married, in my emotionally unhealthy wake. Too many. Disaster after disaster. All by my own picking.
My life was joyless. Sure, I could make you think I was happy but there wasn’t any joy.
Joy comes when you make peace with who you are, where you are, why you are, and who you are not with. When you need nothing more than your truth and the love of a good God to bring peace, then you have settled into the abiding joy that is not rocked by relationships. It’s not rocked by anything. ~ Sandra L. Brown M.A. (Psychology Today)
I put myself in jeopardy so many times through these unhealthy relationships. I put my children in jeopardy. Each time I opened my life up to verbal, emotional and physical abuse. My children witnessed very little of it but the fall out affected them immensely. They saw that I was always sad, or upset. I did not create a healthy environment for them because I was not healthy. With husband #3, drug dealers would call my house and threaten my life and the life of my kids because he owed them money. I am ever so grateful that my children did not live with me at the time but none the less, I put them in jeopardy.
I have since done the work to fix and fine tune my picker. I will no longer tolerate a jackass in my life. I do not have the energy or patience for jackasses any longer. Hee haw at me and you’re out! I will never again willingly put myself or my family in jeopardy. If I sense danger, you’re out! I will never give my joy away again. Try and bring me down and you’re out! And if you don’t think I’m serious (because you know there are those jackasses that will push your boundaries) I dare you to try me.
What a great ending! I predict the jackasses will not bother you now. I bet they can sense your confidence and self-respect, like you have a very different watermark tattoo on your forehead, now.
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LOL I think it says, “I Dare You”!
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I respect you! I wish you good luck for you and your children. Have a safe and happy life. 🙂
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Thank you Kirti!
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“My picker is broken” – your story is my story, more or less. Thank you for sharing it!
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Thank you for reading and commenting Wordwmn! I would love to read your story sometime!
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“My picker is broken”….i can so relate to that. My “picker” was so incredibly broken for most of my life. Now it still falls off-kilter occassionally, but I can correct it. Thank you for sharing my story through your words.
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Thank you for reading and commenting Crookedroadfaith! I would love to know more of your story.
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Be happy to share.
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