Roar

“One” of the hardest things about all this…pity.

I hate pity. Hate it with a passion. First thing I told people was ” You don’t get to feel sorry for me and you don’t get to cry.” Here I am a year later, and people are still feeling sorry for me and still crying. I still hate it and just so you all know it’s not the purpose of this blog. If I could I would make you all sign a disclaimer “I swear I will not cry while reading this blog. Any tears shed or feelings of pity are punishable by either death or being trapped in a room for five days listening to “the whore” whine…I suggest you take death it’s less painful.” I though can hardly figure out how to type on my computer, let alone make a binding contract.

I liked the person I used to be…I was Kelly and nobody felt sorry for me. Then poof..I was Kelly and everywhere I looked I saw pity, and people who couldn’t look at me without tears in their eyes. I used to be a woman people respected or envied because I was so strong and I liked the feeling of it.

One of my favorite things? When my father-in-law (who has been softened by grandkids, but 20 years ago he wasn’t so soft..or probably sure of the little girl his son had brought home.. but his Love…his Respect is something I earned slowly and painfully at times but I earned… and I hold it close to my heart) introduced me to people and told them “this is my daughter-in-law Kelly, she runs all this, she’s the boss around here if you need something”…first time he ever said it I beamed with pride. It was then I knew I was finally accepted, finally something more than his son’s wife or grandson’s mom, I had value in his eyes. Have I ever told him how much it means to me…No… His family isn’t much for words of gratitude, and it would embarrass him.

I saw pity in his eyes too, when I sat in his living room and told him of the affair. Pity, shock and hurt…but it was the pity which broke my heart. I went from being his mouthy, tough, hardworking sidekick…to a broken, weak little girl…twenty years thrown out the window, and suddenly I was the same 19-year-old little girl, his son brought home from college with his first grandson growing in her belly. It still has me crying as I write this…somehow I feel like I failed them and it breaks my heart.

I hate pity, and being the “victim”. I will never understand people who will embrace being a victim. Bad shit happened to you…I am sorry for that, really I am…now put on your big girl panties and figure out how to fix it, otherwise you are stuck laying there in shit and the “victim”. I am not the “victim”…but I was and it was not a title I wanted.

There was a person however, who wanted to be the victim, and Lord how she whined and cried to Anyone and Everyone who would listen. I guess my husband forced her into the affair, and coerced her into it, brainwashed her…he has special powers, which is scary because according to her statement in court, he uses them on me too…sweet talked is how her and her crazy mom put it… and it can make you give up your own free will and become a whore. Funny thing though as I told her in a text “My husband has never in twenty years, EVER controlled me, or what I say and still doesn’t”.

So she went running around the small town where they worked, shouting her victim status loudly and wearing her “I’m a victim” button proudly. My husband went crying to a co-worker who knew them both, about it and was shut down instantly, she set him straight. “you aren’t the victim and neither is she…only victims in this are Kelly and those kids.” My husband was taken back by her words but repeated them to me. “I am not a victim…” I argued with him, ” I agree with her, You Two aren’t the victims in this, because you both chose this, but me and my kids will never be victims!!”

I later got to meet this co-worker on a trip, and quickly set her straight. I went into dinner with her and her boyfriend, prepared not to like this woman who my husband said was “like a sister”, former “friend of the whore” was how I thought of her…and she calls me a “victim”? As the evening progressed and we did our little dance around each other…

I’m not a victim”, I informed her first chance I got.

“I look at your husband like a little brother”, she told me.

We talked for hours but I think these were the two statements we wanted the other to know first. Don’t feel sorry for me and please don’t look at me with pity was what I wanted to get through to her. I promise I never slept with your husband was her underlying message to me. I left the restaurant at the end of the evening and told my husband “I love her”.

She is now one of my best friends, talks me off the ledge (or comes out and sits with me), never judges my crazy, and will answer any question I have about him and his “life up there”. I love her… because in her eyes I started as a Victim and now she sees me Strong. Everyone else has seen me go from being Strong to a Victim.

I don’t know if I mentioned it or not, but I hate pity.

“I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath
Scared to rock the boat and make a mess
So I sat quietly, agreed politely
I guess that I forgot I had a choice
I let you push me past the breaking point
I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything

You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, you hear that sound
Like thunder gonna shake the ground
You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)
Get ready ’cause I’ve had enough
I see it all, I see it now

[Chorus]
I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
‘Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
‘Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
You’re gonna hear me roar”

-Katy Perry-

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4 Responses to Roar

  1. Colette LaBonte says:

    I not only think you are STRONG but also an AMAZING WOMAN! Love you too ♡♥ (love these little hearts).

  2. rkabceden says:

    and I think you are BRAVE and also KIND…to be a friend to a lost, often crazy person, to lift them up on bad days, and to always “like them best”…I am sure it would have been easier to have let your friendship with my husband go when he left town, and to have not been a friend to me, but you openly and loudly express your friendship and support of our marriage…Popular choice in your small town?? I’m going to guess NO…but here we stand once again having a public “love fest” lol we’d better be careful “people” will start to talk…I’m glad you make hearts (JEALOUS of your mad computer skills) xoxoxo hugs and kisses in my best “french” accent

  3. Great blog! You’re telling the story with style and humor. I’d lay odds you’ve moved through the worst of the journey. It does get easier. It does get better. The scars fade a bit. And the past in the rear view mirror gets further and further back on the horizon. Looking forward to reading the rest of the story.

    • rkabceden says:

      Thank you for your sweet comments…I am trying to write the story with laughter involved, because my family and I have used humor to help heal us. I feel a little bit better everytime I write, someday I hope I will be able to say I’m done with this story…look guys I’m healed and move on to write about my daughter and her adventures.

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