First of all let me say, I am not the bad guy! Did I twist my husband’s arm into marrying me in Vegas? No, I just asserted the appropriate amount of pressure because honestly, I am not getting any younger, we love each other, and it’s been 3 years of me devoting my life to him. I would call that a nudge, if anything. Would I have left him? Actually no, but I wouldn’t think he was serious about our relationship, no matter how much we have been through and continue to go through together. Like he always says to his business partners…if you’re serious, put it in writing.

We can’t tell a soul, and by soul I mean his mother, because for some insane reason she cannot feel left out of our (their) decision. We told our friends and my family, because number one, I am not a pussy, and number two, I don’t depend on my parents for anything but criticism. I actually resent and like it that way at the same time, but mostly like it that way. In the words of a super cheesy movie, the juice is not worth the squeeze.

I am NOT the bad guy. We love each other, we are so happy in our marriage, and honestly nothing has changed. Nothing has changed to the point where we forget we are even married. The only thing that has changed is that I feel better about dedicating my entire existence to one person, because it’s harder for him to change his mind. As in trying to up and bounce with an “upgraded” me or whatever young 20 something has to offer him (eye roll). I am honestly not worried about that in particular, it’s mostly that he can’t ignore the issues, or walk out when things get tough. Which they will because that’s life and I’m a little crazy. As fucked up as it may seem, marriage to me is proof of each other’s dedication to one another, I am pretty sure that’s the whole idea of the thing. To give it your all and work on things before they break. Being married gave me a sense of peace that we could get through anything together because we committed to do so.

Anyway let’s get back to the point. This motherfucker feels so bad about us eloping in Viva Las Vegas, and his family not knowing that he guilts me into giving his mom my fucking dog. His mom has wanted my dog since we left her at her house when we moved across the country for my husband’s work. She was supposed to be there for 1-2 weeks tops. At first it was convenient while we moved into a new home, but then it got suspicious. Can we fly our own plane to get her? Husband being a recreational pilot and all, who never turns down an excuse to fly, suddenly a lot of bad weather patterns were happening. When it came to driving to go get my fur baby, he got defensive, as if I were taking something from him, or overreacting, which I may have been doing while I screamed, “They’ve kidnapped my baby!” Family emergencies came up, I don’t know what could have happened that didn’t happen, and weeks turned into months. Moving is expensive and we were going through our own version of financial hardship, but I know we could have made arrangements. For example, the lie he spit out at me that the airlines were no longer allowing dogs to fly was disproved 5 months later when my flight attendant friend said it was perfectly fine. Mind you this is OUR dog—actually MY DOG—he made it crystal clear when he got her for me as a Christmas gift that she was mine and even if we broke up he would never take her from me. The first dog I have had since my childhood dog died. I raised her from a puppy, and he has been dodgy about getting her back ever since his mom expressed interest in wanting to keep her. Now we have this big secret and I feel like I am cutting the umbilical cord without her knowing it, and am getting by with a safety pin keeping it together, hoping she won’t notice. So I freak out and tell her she can have my dog.

AGAIN…. I AM NOT THE BAD GUY! I call take backs, can you do that? I want my fucking dog, I got another dog to keep my dog company, and now I have no original dog to start with. Since I told his parents they could have my dog about two to three days ago, I feel like I should broach the subject sooner rather than later. I feel like they will try to buy me off, but honestly, can they?

And now AM I THE BAD GUY? They give my fluffy baby the best home, but it’s not my home. Are they going to try to hold something over our heads that should be given freely? Do they think I should give my fucking dog freely, because they’re old and can’t raise a puppy, which I have offered to buy them many times. CAN THEY BUY ME? The sensible part of me says yes, the stubborn part says hell no.

WHO IS THE BAD GUY?

1.    It’s me for pressuring an elopement, and allowing no one to be involved

2.    It’s him because we talked about it for months and he had 0 objections, only leaving him feeling guilty right before (and only about his mother)

3.    It’s me for thinking that his Freudian guilt is weird as fuck

4.    It’s him for planning the whole damn thing, and then making me feel like i took something from him (them, umbilical cord still in tact, even with safety pin)

5.    It’s him for taking something: my dog, which I wanted, begged for, raised, and love. Taking her and not allowing me to bring her home, him putting it off as much as possible in order to please his mother.

6.    It’s him because I am getting that damn dog BACK, SHE IS MINE, MY BABY, and no pseudo mother will ever make her as happy as I can.

AGAIN… I am not the bad guy! I got what I wanted, but why do I feel like the villain? The woman keeping a boy away from his mother. He chose me over her, but I feel like I am more in the middle than I ever was. Trying not to make a sound or gesture that might threaten something I have no control over. He’s a grown man of 40 years old, she has her own husband. We hardly know each other and the love we do have for each other is because of the man I am married to and the one she gave birth to. When does it end? And why am I paying the penance?

I beg for him to marry me, I cry because he almost chose her, I put my make up on because he grew a pair and I smile like I was being swept off my feet. You promised me you were ready, you wrote the check, but when I am ready to cash it, why are taxes taken out? Now I am a prisoner in my own mind and I did this to myself. There is always a price to pay or a concession, not compromise.

I do not need to feel his guilt, take it on, or give parts of myself because his shit isn’t sorted in his head and his heart. Just because we are married, doesn’t mean we are one. That’s some creepy shit when people say that, and I am understanding it more and more each day. Respect each other, love each other, Corinthians blah blah blah, be patient and kind. But honestly question each other, challenge one another, and don’t ever let someone’s handicap become your own. Instead make each other stronger, and be the back brace he needs for his spine.

So what the fuck did I do in the end? I gave her my dog.

First of all let me say, I am not the bad guy! Did I twist my husband’s arm into marrying me in Vegas? No, I just asserted the appropriate amount of pressure because honestly, I am not getting any younger, we love each other, and it’s been 3 years of me devoting my life to him. I would call that a nudge, if anything. Would I have left him? Actually no, but I wouldn’t think he was serious about our relationship, no matter how much we have been through and continue to go through together. Like he always says to his business partners…if you’re serious, put it in writing.

We can’t tell a soul, and by soul I mean his mother, because for some insane reason she cannot feel left out of our (their) decision. We told our friends and my family, because number one, I am not a pussy, and number two, I don’t depend on my parents for anything but criticism. I actually resent and like it that way at the same time, but mostly like it that way. In the words of a super cheesy movie, the juice is not worth the squeeze.

I am NOT the bad guy. We love each other, we are so happy in our marriage, and honestly nothing has changed. Nothing has changed to the point where we forget we are even married. The only thing that has changed is that I feel better about dedicating my entire existence to one person, because it’s harder for him to change his mind. As in trying to up and bounce with an “upgraded” me or whatever young 20 something has to offer him (eye roll). I am honestly not worried about that in particular, it’s mostly that he can’t ignore the issues, or walk out when things get tough. Which they will because that’s life and I’m a little crazy. As fucked up as it may seem, marriage to me is proof of each other’s dedication to one another, I am pretty sure that’s the whole idea of the thing. To give it your all and work on things before they break. Being married gave me a sense of peace that we could get through anything together because we committed to do so.

Anyway let’s get back to the point. This motherfucker feels so bad about us eloping in Viva Las Vegas, and his family not knowing that he guilts me into giving his mom my fucking dog. His mom has wanted my dog since we left her at her house when we moved across the country for my husband’s work. She was supposed to be there for 1-2 weeks tops. At first it was convenient while we moved into a new home, but then it got suspicious. Can we fly our own plane to get her? Husband being a recreational pilot and all, who never turns down an excuse to fly, suddenly a lot of bad weather patterns were happening. When it came to driving to go get my fur baby, he got defensive, as if I were taking something from him, or overreacting, which I may have been doing while I screamed, “They’ve kidnapped my baby!” Family emergencies came up, I don’t know what could have happened that didn’t happen, and weeks turned into months. Moving is expensive and we were going through our own version of financial hardship, but I know we could have made arrangements. For example, the lie he spit out at me that the airlines were no longer allowing dogs to fly was disproved 5 months later when my flight attendant friend said it was perfectly fine. Mind you this is OUR dog—actually MY DOG—he made it crystal clear when he got her for me as a Christmas gift that she was mine and even if we broke up he would never take her from me. The first dog I have had since my childhood dog died. I raised her from a puppy, and he has been dodgy about getting her back ever since his mom expressed interest in wanting to keep her. Now we have this big secret and I feel like I am cutting the umbilical cord without her knowing it, and am getting by with a safety pin keeping it together, hoping she won’t notice. So I freak out and tell her she can have my dog.

AGAIN…. I AM NOT THE BAD GUY! I call take backs, can you do that? I want my fucking dog, I got another dog to keep my dog company, and now I have no original dog to start with. Since I told his parents they could have my dog about two to three days ago, I feel like I should broach the subject sooner rather than later. I feel like they will try to buy me off, but honestly, can they?

And now AM I THE BAD GUY? They give my fluffy baby the best home, but it’s not my home. Are they going to try to hold something over our heads that should be given freely? Do they think I should give my fucking dog freely, because they’re old and can’t raise a puppy, which I have offered to buy them many times. CAN THEY BUY ME? The sensible part of me says yes, the stubborn part says hell no.

WHO IS THE BAD GUY?

1.    It’s me for pressuring an elopement, and allowing no one to be involved

2.    It’s him because we talked about it for months and he had 0 objections, only leaving him feeling guilty right before (and only about his mother)

3.    It’s me for thinking that his Freudian guilt is weird as fuck

4.    It’s him for planning the whole damn thing, and then making me feel like i took something from him (them, umbilical cord still in tact, even with safety pin)

5.    It’s him for taking something: my dog, which I wanted, begged for, raised, and love. Taking her and not allowing me to bring her home, him putting it off as much as possible in order to please his mother.

6.    It’s him because I am getting that damn dog BACK, SHE IS MINE, MY BABY, and no pseudo mother will ever make her as happy as I can.

AGAIN… I am not the bad guy! I got what I wanted, but why do I feel like the villain? The woman keeping a boy away from his mother. He chose me over her, but I feel like I am more in the middle than I ever was. Trying not to make a sound or gesture that might threaten something I have no control over. He’s a grown man of 40 years old, she has her own husband. We hardly know each other and the love we do have for each other is because of the man I am married to and the one she gave birth to. When does it end? And why am I paying the penance?

I beg for him to marry me, I cry because he almost chose her, I put my make up on because he grew a pair and I smile like I was being swept off my feet. You promised me you were ready, you wrote the check, but when I am ready to cash it, why are taxes taken out? Now I am a prisoner in my own mind and I did this to myself. There is always a price to pay or a concession, not compromise.

I do not need to feel his guilt, take it on, or give parts of myself because his shit isn’t sorted in his head and his heart. Just because we are married, doesn’t mean we are one. That’s some creepy shit when people say that, and I am understanding it more and more each day. Respect each other, love each other, Corinthians blah blah blah, be patient and kind. But honestly question each other, challenge one another, and don’t ever let someone’s handicap become your own. Instead make each other stronger, and be the back brace he needs for his spine.

So what the fuck did I do in the end? I gave her my dog.