Yesterday was a full one. I spent the morning and early afternoon at a series of seminars/workshops for women. It's an annual thing sponsored by a (surprise) women's group I belong to. Despite the lack of testosterone at the event, I learned plenty about men and women.
The keynote speaker almost set women's lib back 40 years. I'm glad she was proud of breastfeeding her son, but the image she painted of practically non-stop milking for the first two years of his life was one I could have done without. Heard that a woman I used to work with is now separated from her husband. Not sure why I smirked and felt just a little bit of glee. She just always struck me as someone who was a climber, always trying to be something and someone she wasn't. Always portraying the life of perfection - perfect marriage, perfect job, perfect husband, perfect pregnancies, perfect kids. So she was just in denial longer than I was - and I was in denial for a long time.
I found that out when I moved on to the second event of the day, a planned parenthood fund-raiser that I have attended for years. My friend Mary and I went together and afterwards, with her tongue loosened by three glasses of wine, she told me that my Ex lacked depth. Ouch. But how right she is. Amazing how clearly you can see things in retrospect.
"Oh, come on Kenna, admit it. He just was ... blah. You couldn't have a conversation with him. He totally lacked conviction."
He was superficial. Everything had to be just so with him. The wedding, the house, the boat, the car he drove. I was just another accessory, something that complemented his view of how his world should be. And don't get me wrong - he's not a bad person, you won't find anyone who will say that he is. He just ... I don't know, it's almost like he is incomplete. He never finished becoming a whole person. Does that make sense? Even with the suffering and pain that came with our separation and divorce, I'm still not sure he's allowed himself to feel the pain.