DARVO

Brandon and I have bonded over our shredded shit shows that were once called relationships. It feels good to be able to lean on him as another person who was wounded by someone that they let in too deep. I've also leaned into Reddit as a way to learn far more about how patriarchy has been an absolute menace to society, making my decision to remain single that much more vital. Don't get me wrong, I don't think that all men are trash. I just think that patriarchy has taught far too many men and women that women are weak and stupid, and are for the sole purpose of being used, abused and discarded by men. In other words,  "I'm good luv. Enjoy!"

Anyway, I stumbled across a Reddit board the other day, where a woman talked about how her boyfriend of 8 months showed his entire ass when she refused to allow him access to her bank account. Many of the commenters referred to his behavior as "DARVO." I happened to have come across the term recently when I was listening to a podcast where a woman discussed how a man infiltrated a bunch of doula/lactation online groups, and caused a lot of confusion, including encouraging the mostly female respondents to do porn. The weasel went on to sue the women that began sharing information about him in order to warn others. To add insult to injury, the bastard lives in Hawaii so many low income women (and mothers at that) were having to spend money they did not have (and taking away from their children), just to fly to Hawaii to fight him for charges they did not deserve.

After hearing this term repeated twice in a really short time, I decided to do a quick Google search. My jaw practically hit the ground.

It was all too familiar with a few of my exes, and most recently Theo. There was a moment in time when he acted an entire ass and later on tried to make it seem that he was the actual victim. I didn't respond, because I knew that what he was claiming was an offense was just manufactured drama to take away any responsibility for his bad choices and refusal to change. He wasn't a victim and I wasn't going to allow him to pretend to be one.

Anyway, it also sounded similar to quite a few things Brandon had gone through with his addict ex-girlfriend and her unwillingness to admit fault in a few of their issues. Brandon was just as shocked as I was to know there was an actual name to this tactic. He then admitted that yes, his ex was quite proficient at playing the victim role whenever he pointed out some of her poor behavior.

During our conversation, I asked him how things are with his finances, especially since he pays his ex-wife (mother of his children) a pretty large sum of money for child support. Brandon admitted that his ex-wife told him that she's currently seeking a higher paying job, because she recognizes that anything could happen with him and she'd need to be able to care for the kids with no help from him.

I was floored. Poor financial management was a large part of what led to their divorce. "If only she'd had that mentality when y'all were married," I offered. "That's exactly what I said," he countered. Brandon had also told me that his ex-wife had been going to counseling and that she admits that she may have slipped into a depression, leading to a lot of her lax behavior toward their household and her overall responsibilities while they were together.

Then I asked Brandon, "you ever thought about getting back with her?" "Hell nah!" he quickly answered. "Well," I started. "It might be worth you giving it another shot." 

I talked to him about how much he's spending in child support to care for the children, well over what a judge would order. Things with his most recent ex-girlfriend (whom he'd left his wife for) are dead in the water. This woman is the mother of his children, and they had over 10 years together. Plus she's taking the time to work on herself, including therapy and taking a bigger role in being responsible for her finances. The fact is, all the issues he previously had with her, she's working hard to resolve them. And unlike the ex-girlfriend who thinks he'll stick around, the ex-wife really sees and values what he brought to the table and would like to remain with him, especially after seeing that he'll dip if she doesn't straighten up. I also offered that his eventually divorcing her for a woman who (at the time) did all the things he told her he needed, showed her that the man she thought would never leave, could and would in fact, leave. And not just leave, but set up home with another woman. His ex-wife saw the writing on the wall, and stepped up to get him back.

Brandon also admitted that his ex-wife has offered that he can come back home any time he's ready, and has routinely tried to sleep with him, although he has declined to not blur the lines of their relationship. I told Brandon that quite honestly, had my ex put forth half the effort his ex-wife did when we separated, I would have seriously considered getting back with him.

It made me think about something I read recently where Shaquille O'Neal discussed Nia Long's long-time partner being caught out there with a coworker. Shaq said that with everything he's accomplished and all the money he made, what he wishes he had most is the thing he screwed up the most. He said he hurt his wife and missed his family.  He remarked how he missed being able to come home to those 6 people that made him feel the most important. And that really stuck with me.

Sometimes I look at my life and I honestly think to myself that my ex and I would both be doing a lot better had he just opted not to be such a raging asshole. I mean, I'm certainly not eating beans out of a can, and nor am I carrying a Birkin bag on my shoulder. But I am a far cry from making $8/hr at Petsmart. My refrigerator is full, as is the tank in my 2022 Honda HRV. I travel pretty comfortably now, flying around several times a year, and I even just finally opened a Delta Sky Miles account. He and I would be making well over $100k as a unit, and probably about to buy a second or even third rental property. But he chose violence. So we will absolutely NEVER get back together. Lord knows that I tried to keep us together. But just like Shaunie, I reached the point of no return and I opted for my peace and sanity over a man who didn't value the ultimate gift I'd given him. And just like Shaq, he has to sit with knowing what he missed out on.

Meanwhile, Brandon admitted to being surprised to hear me say that he should return to his ex. He knows that historically, I wasn't all that fond of her (more so, after I witnessed a bitchy thing she said about him). But I give credit where credit is due. She lost out on a good man, and while in the process of working on herself, she's closer to getting back her husband and living the life that she wants for herself. And I'm not mad at that.

Detachment

So I've been Buddhist for nearly 15 years now. Not sure if it's okay to call myself that, but I align myself with the principals, although I could do much better in practicing. But in following Buddhism, I have grown pretty enamored the concept of "mindfulness" which stems largely from Buddhism and Hinduism. Buddhism has given me strength and purpose, when I felt at my lowest. I'm not traditionally one to go and say "XYZ religion saved me!" But I can definitely say that Buddhism played a large role in my development, down to the business that I started, followed by the book I finally finished.

While I've read about Buddhist principles for 15 years, it has only been recently that I have allowed myself to fully grasp and implement mindfulness in my life. While Buddhism can be a little difficult to grasp in some ways (it's literally so simple, that it's complex), I have gravitated heavily toward mindfulness and all that it encompasses. Letting go, moving forward, forgiveness, self reflection and accountability- all things I had to struggle to learn to embrace. And the most recent of the principles that really grabbed me was detachment. 

I did not recognize how much my new lifestyle really started to take hold of me until a few weeks back. I'd been spending a lot of time with Jon and I liked him, although there were a couple of things I'd been wary about. Jon is a great friend, and I learned a lot from him. But I was hesitant to keep seeing him in a romantic way, because I was unsure of his intentions. Sure, I like him, but I'm not really in the market for a fuck buddy at this point in my life. I've acknowledged that I cannot have sex without getting attached, and I no longer want to attach myself to a man emotionally, unless I know that we are moving toward a relationship. No judgement to others, but I have decided to establish more boundaries for who I allow to access my body, and for what reasons.

I saw Jon recently, and after a little drinky drink on his couch, I decided to ask him the question that had been plaguing me. I looked at him and asked "are we fucking or dating?" Jon looked thoughtfully for a second, before answering "I feel like we're fucking. My dad is in his 80s and still doing him. My dad mentioned how me and my brother are both single. I'm enjoying this." And then he followed up with "I know that's not what you want to hear." My response almost surprised me, "all I wanted to hear was the truth."

Wow. Yeah, I'd enjoyed my time with Jon. But I wasn't glued to him. I didn't cry. I wasn't even sad or bummed. He simply told me what he wanted and I accepted it. I didn't try to convince him to be with me. I just accepted it. And that felt good! I was proud of myself. Because I learned to be in the moment and detach, I wasn't focused on what I expected our future to be, I just worked with what was in the moment and I responded appropriately. That level of freedom felt almost intoxicating.

In looking within, I had to accept that my attachment to people and things stemmed in part from my fear of being alone or without. I've always felt that my role in life was to be of assistance to others. And while I still try my best to help others, I no longer feel that is my obligation. If someone loves me (romantically or platonically) and we hit it off, stellar. If not, that is okay too. 

My attachment to items is a bit different. For a large part of my adulthood, I struggled as a member of the working poor. I would often buy items in bulk, things like dish washing liquid, laundry detergent,  toilet paper, toothpaste, lotion, and paper towels, all because one of my biggest struggles stemmed from being down to my last $20 and being low on gas and needing to buy deodorant and toilet paper. So when times were less lean, I tended to stockpile household items, fearful that the day would return that I'd be down to my last $8 and needing bar soap and hair grease.

And since graduating school, I'm fortunate that I am no longer merely $50 away from homelessness. I can afford to get my nails painted professionally (they are currently neon yellow and I couldn't be happier). And at the same time, I had to accept that the dozen perfumes that I have are a bit overkill. It was finally time to just use what I have, and allow the pile to dwindle.

My move last year to California taught me that as well. I had to toss several items, and still ended up moving way too much stuff with me. As I set my sights on moving back, I have promised myself that next time around, far less unnecessary items will make the trip. Time to start using what I have and want, and purging what is only taking up space.

The other day, while working from home, my former boss stopped in briefly. He hugged me tightly before we caught up. He looked around my living room and zeroed in on the books on the bookshelf. He pulled out a book about psycho therapy, before putting it back. I then pulled it out, examined it quickly, and handed it to him. "You don't want this?" he asked me. "Nah," I shrugged. In spite of my tossing over 100 books before my move last year, I still held on to at least 100 books, which were quite heavy to move cross country. "You're not using this for work?" he probed again. I assured him that I do not need the book and will not miss it.

It served as yet another reminder that I am fully allowing myself to detach. While I previously held on to books by the shelf full, I no longer need them to validate me or make me feel safe or worthy. If me passing on that book brings him joy or will help him to be of service to others, I was proud to pass it along to him.

I've long viewed life as a journey. The ebbs and flows, the goods, the bads, the uglies. I'm here for it all, as it twists and turns. And I'm loving how much detaching is now part of my story. It's like we all pick up pebbles as we go through life. And some of the pebbles are ugly and jagged, like low self-esteem and insecurity. And after relinquishing those pebbles, I'm learning that I can walk a lot further with my hands empty and my heart full. I'm enjoying this.

Addictions Aren't Just for Drugs

I have a homeboy who got divorced around a year ago. When I met him nearly a decade ago, he was head over heels and firmly dedicated to his wife. As time went on, she started slipping (in quite a few arenas, to be honest), and he too began slipping. And he slipped into the arms of his female best friend. In spite of his wife having a baby in an effort to save their fleeting marriage (never a good idea), he pulled the plug anyway.

My homie, who I'll call Brandon, was giddy like a school girl when he'd started to realize that his best friend might actually be "the one." She possessed everything he felt like his ex-wife was missing. She was supportive of him, financially and emotionally. Make no mistake, Brandon is no slacker. But like most of us, he occasionally needed $20 to eat between pay days. His wife, (in spite of working full-time) would always either claim not to have it, or talk shit about him needing it (although he was the breadwinner of the home, even during those times when she squandered the bill money or incurred late fees because she couldn't be bothered to pay bills on time). Meanwhile, the best friend gave up the money, no questions asked. And once Brandon's money started to straighten out, the best friend reaped the benefits of believing in and investing in him.

We were happy for Brandon, although guarded. Things seemed so rushed. He went literally from his marriage, straight into the arms of his best friend. I'm not a hater. I want to see my friends happy, and doing well. My issue/fear was that between both relationships, there'd been no time for him to decompress. I encouraged him just to take some time to fuck around and feel around for what he wants and needs in his next relationship. But the man was undeterred, and in love. He wanted his best friend.

Around the same time things started to fall apart between me and Theo, Brandon confided in me that things weren't going well with him and his best friend either. He'd talked about her ex being around, and he almost left because of her seeming refusal to let the dude go, even though he clearly had no intentions of wifing her the way Brandon did. Also, she spent a lot of time at casinos. Like a lot. Like a WHOLE LOT.

I listened patiently to Brandon. I know that he wanted things to work with her. But between my woman's intuition and professional experience, I knew that she had a whole lot of trauma to work through, before she'd be capable of giving him what he wanted and deserved.

As time went on, she continued to struggle. At least the guy from her past was no more, but Brandon started to see more cracks. I was cautiously guarded in telling him that I think he needed to toss her back. I assured him that I never thought that she was a bad person, but she just had tons of shit she needed to address. He waffled. He saw the red flags. But he was in love.

One of the things that kept coming up was her time at casinos. He identified it as an issue early on. I tried hard to explain to him that addiction is addiction. So often people justify their addictions by pointing out things like "I haven't lost custody of my kids" or "I get up and go to work everyday" to downplay the issues they are facing. I saw her justifying and I pointed it out to Brandon. He agreed that she was justifying, but they continued to have conversations where she swore that she was done with the casinos. I knew she wasn't. But it wasn't my place to plainly say it.

I tried to explain to Brandon that the average addict needs to address whatever leads to their addictive behaviors, otherwise they either relapse or find another, just as harmful, addiction. Again, he was in love. Honestly, I started to feel like he was hiding the worst of it from me, fearful that I'd again encourage him to rethink this relationship. But hey, he was in love.

A few weeks back, Brandon confessed to me that he'd ended it. He could no longer deal with it. He started to see that she wasn't quite as ready to face her demons as he'd hoped. They tried to continue to work on their friendship, and cohabitating was a big part of that, as they'd just signed a lease. And in all honesty, he never wanted to lose her as a friend. But he learned that not only was she lying to him about her time spent at the casino, she' also lied about her old guy friend. He was blocked. But now he's not.

I can't lie, her guy friend reminded me of my time with Fred. How up until fairly recently, I was willing to possibly sacrifice any chance at a real relationship, to keep Fred in my life. Like all of the other things I've had to stare down, I had to look at Fred and determine if he was worth sacrificing a healthy relationship with a good man. The answer is of course, NO.

But Brandon's best friend isn't quite at that point. I can't help but to almost sympathize with her plight. Granted, my addiction was never drugs or casinos, but I definitely got a dopamine fix from my time with Fred. Working in addiction allowed me to see how attached I was and how non-beneficial that attachment really was. It also allowed me to identify other addictions I wasn't even aware that I'd had.

If it wasn't for the fact that this is really hurting my friend, I'd almost sympathize. She doesn't even recognize what she's giving up, all while chasing her high. It almost reminds me of something that happened at one of my jobs. A woman was so dedicated to her sobriety. She had my last name, and although I could never say it to her, I considered her my cousin, so I cheered her on that much harder. She'd been in rehab several times before, but this time, we just knew that she was gonna make it to the end and get her kids back. But then one day, she decided she was done. She wanted out. Some old ass dude pulled up in a shitty car to pick her up from rehab, despite her being only halfway done with the program. We all begged and pleaded with her. "Think about your kids!" we'd plead to her. "You've made so much progress," we said. She was undeterred. My "cousin" left.

To make it that much more painful, the next day, her kids came through to visit their mom. But she was gone. No one had told them. It broke my heart to imagine those poor kids showing up, hopeful that this would be the time that mom would get her stuff together and get the kids out of foster care, and they could all be together again. But mama picked her addiction, over doing what was best for everyone else. Just like Brandon

's now ex-girlfriend.

Working in addiction taught me so much. Namely that most people don't know that they are addicted. That most people have to hit absolute rock bottom before they'll admit that they have a problem, and even then, some still won't. That some people will justify and even choose the most fucked up situations, all because their addiction is familiar.

Kinda sad, ya know?