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Reflection from January 28th, 2013 @ Age 31


Well, I’m gonna cut that man right outa my hair.  That’s right.

I don’t know if I’ve said already or not, but I’m doing one thing a day for 20 days (today is day no.2 and technically I started one day early, so 21 days total) to mourn the death of my marriage to Cooper.  I have no idea what I’m going to do each day for the 18 remaining days starting tomorrow—but two days ago I looked through Cooper and my Key West photos (and was reminded what an asshole Cooper was…well, is), yesterday I went through all of my clothing and was reminded what an asshole Cooper is, and today I’m going to get my haircut off and we’ll see how that makes me feel about good ol’ Coop too.  I don’t see how it will remind me of what an asshole Cooper is, except of course how he was always reminding me that I was always taking too much goddamned time to get ready.  Good thing I’ll be saving lots of time now (that’s in fact, one reason I’m getting it cut, lol).

Yesterday when I was going through all my clothes, it reminded me of two things.  First, with regard to my work clothes, it reminded me that I actually used to fucking get up in the mornings, get to work on time in the mornings, and actually fucking be dressed for work, not like a fucking slob.  Like a slob, of course, who has no energy left for themselves after their asshole abusive husband took it all away from them and told them they were worth nothing because they had nothing left to give to anything or anyone else, including themselves.  What a shame.  Good thing I’m here now, and away from that fucking creep.

And then, when I was going through my casual clothing, mostly my spring and summer wardrobe, notably because for some reason I have next to nothing for a winter wardrobe and I don’t know why—I was reminded of how Cooper always wanted me to be who he wanted me to be, and how he thought I was worth so very little otherwise, which he very much so made known to me.  It was just the engagement ring story all over again—Cooper wants what Cooper wants for me, regardless of what Marissa actually wants herself.  I mean, I guess that could be read one of two potentially legitimate ways, except that it cannot, because the concept permeated every fiber of our relationship.

It’s so hard to believe now that I almost used to believe him when he thought I was worth nothing generally if I was worth nothing to him—if I was not what he wanted then I was worth nothing at all.  It’s tragic really.  I mean, I consider myself a very strong individual with a spirit that could cut through steel.  But as we all are from time to time, I was in an extremely vulnerable position when he and I got together, and I guess it all just flowed from there.  How disappointed he must have been, in our relationship’s wake, to find my spirit somehow still strangling his.  Such a different experience from his, from his source of offspring—so thankful I am to have come out alive from underneath his abusive tendencies.