I never talked on the phone with the other woman, but we did exchange some blistering texts. One of the things she said after their so-called emotional affair was, “Effie, he never told me he loved me.” I have such mixed feelings about that. Thoughts that I left unvoiced to her included: Sarcasm: “Well, I guess dick pics just had… Read more →
Author: Effie
Relying on an unreliable man
Procrastination is disrespect — both for yourself and for whoever depends on you. (I’m both an offender and a victim, but I’m talking as the victim today.) One of the recurring issues I’ve had with my husband is asking him to do something, hearing him agree to do it (usually within a specified time), and then watching him not do… Read more →
Some Debbie-Downer observations
Some recent random observations that either occurred to me or were voiced by others (and which I identified with): Recent therapy session My therapist and I discussed my realization that my husband may love me, but he loves himself more, even though my husband fondly thinks of himself as a deeply-in-love romantic. My therapist agreed. It’s not as gut-wrenching of an… Read more →
Being decent while insecure
A nightmare woke me up a couple of hours after I went to sleep last night. Probably had it because my husband is headed to his hometown today to visit his dad, in the hospital with a heart attack. I have a reason to feel insecure, but I’m trying not to be selfish. I don’t really know whether this is… Read more →
I’m a goddamned diamond
I have been blogging and talking online more lately about some hard parts of my childhood, particularly my violated boundaries and my difficult relationship with my mother. I’ve also thought about something my therapist said after I’d been seeing him for a while. It was something like, “I just imagine how successful and strong you would have been without the mother and… Read more →
‘How are we doing in there?’
“Only children” have it a little weirder than most. We’re not used to getting dressed and undressed in front of other people. We’re more private. More sensitive to prying eyes and bodily integrity. Close the door! Get out! Quit looking at me! Shriek!!! So it was always quite the expedition when I was in elementary school for my mother to… Read more →
It felt like torture. Every time.
I went through one completely tortuous medical procedure over and over when I was a child. I can remember the pain and the helplessness to this day. I can even remember the name of the nurse, what the waiting room looked like, and the color and taste of the medicine they gave me. This was when I was in… Read more →
You little shitass
Okay, here’s an utterly GROSS bit of childhood trivia. I had trouble pooping when I was a kid, and I would hide the fact from my mother as long as I could because I’d rather hurt than endure the solution. Eventually, though, Mama always noticed. She was a nurse, unafraid of bodily functions, so she would solve my problem with an… Read more →
Breathing steam
Note: My therapist tells me that I “married my mother.” So I’ve been thinking back about some chronic clashes my mother and I had over the years to compare notes. This story was one that came to mind. I had allergies all the time when I was a kid, so my nose was often so stopped up that I had… Read more →
Miserable: The making of a spoiled rotten brat
When I was a little girl, my mom and I used to go to one of her sister’s houses on Sunday afternoons. She would visit with her three sisters and drink coffee, and I would play with my older cousins, play in the yard or read one of the books I brought. The cousins, 9 and 6 years older than… Read more →