Confessions Of A Divorcee: How I Ruined My Marriage

But before I met Felicia, I had had a front seat audience to a marriage. That marriage was one-sided, it was cruel and self-serving. It was a lot of self-righteousness and bullying. Watching that marriage, I heard a lot of phrases like, “ I am a man, I do as I please,” and “ Women are weak and unintelligent, they need men to navigate life.”

My father was lord and king, and my mother, she took it all, with grace and submission. The harder he clamped down on her, the harder she worked to prove herself. And so my example of male and female relationship became that of master and subordinate.

My father drilled into me and my two brothers’ heads, “ When you grow and have wives of your own, make sure to take charge of your home, ensure your wife always, always stays beneath you.”

My mother was a midwife and my father a spare parts dealer. He did not have half the formal education she had, and to make up for that deficiency, he cut her down to size. I was a child, and I had no way of recognizing and understanding the dynamics of my parent’s relationship, nobody explained it to me. And so I absorbed what I saw and thought it was normal. Little did I know my idea of ‘normal’ would be the reason I ruin my marriage to the girl of my dreams.

Felicia and I dated for a year and half. I knew she was super intelligent and career focused. She let me know what her dreams and plans were; she made it quite clear that even though she would love us to start a family, she had some goals to get out of the way first. I told her mine. 

We both wanted a family, we both hoped to keep climbing the career ladder, career and financial success were important to both of us. We were two ambitious people, that much was clear. And yet in my mind, I assumed and expected that when we married, she would put her hopes, dreams and plans on the backburner and kowtow to my every whim and caprice.

So I married her. And then I tried to subdue her, just as my father before me had done to my mother. I began by subtly putting her down; I downplayed her successes. And I criticized her to no end. In my head, I was in competition with her. I did not have the emotional maturity to love a woman who rubbed shoulders with me. I required her to shrink herself, dim her light so I could shine.

When she got promoted at work or was given important international assignments, I scoffed at her and insinuated she got those ‘favors’ because she was a female in a male dominated industry.

I expected her to cower, just like I’d seen my mother do. But instead, she fought back. She talked back, and she set some high boundaries. The harder I tried to cower her, the taller she stood, unbowed.

Oneday she told me, in the calmest voice ever, “You are an asshole, I don’t know if you’ve always been one and you hid it really well while dating me or you are just becoming one. But whatever the case, you are an asshole.”

That insult stung. Because it was accurate. And yet I never thought that I would, with my attitude, ruin my marriage.

Then I started demanding I wanted a family. Even though we had decided prior to marriage that we would wait for three years to start a family, I began exerting pressure within a year of marriage. Felicia was adamant she wanted to finish some goals she had set careerwise, and she wanted to enjoy life before bringing children into our young marriage.

I didn’t need children that bad, I just needed to slow her down. She had been appointed lead of a very important project and I was just resentful. What better way to derail a woman’s career than to throw in a child or two at the height of it? But Felicia, she didn’t budge.

I involved family, friends and pastors. Of course most people sided with me, her mother included. Isn’t it interesting how patriarchy is largely upheld by women who themselves are victims of patriarchy?

My most popular line was, “She doesn’t respect me. Her career success has made her arrogant and pompous.”

Many believed me, especially the pastors. They counseled Felicia to scale back and be a wife first. They said,  “Listen to your husband, submit as the bible says.”

Felicia’s response always was, “ Tell him to love me as Christ loved the Church.”

If I am being honest, Felicia was and still is a good woman. She was kind to me, and she kept a good home. She was focused and self-aware. She articulated  what she needed and expected me to meet her halfway. Felicia wasn’t my mother and that unnerved and bothered me. I needed her to be my mother so I could be my father.

On the night I totally and completely ruined my marriage, she had come home from work a little later than usual. As soon as she kicked off her shoes and set her backpack down, I began my verbal tirade.

“What kind of woman works this late. How can you conceive when you’re this selfish. Who do you think you are…?”

When I was done ranting, she gave me a one line reply, “The kind that makes her own money, lots of money.”

I slapped her. She fell, it was the sheer force of the slap.

I tried to offer a half-baked apology. But she waved me away. She didn’t even cry.

She looked me in the eye and said, “When you love a flower, you nurture it to grow, you don’t smother it to death.”

She left me. No amount of apology, prodding, cajoling, pleading, preaching could change her mind. She left me and never missed a beat. She went on to still be a success without me, complete with a new husband and children.

She left me; it was my fault, I ruined my marriage.

And that is how I ruined my marriage with my toxic masculinity.

Hindsight is vision 2020. I can tell this story because I know better now. I wish I’d known better back then. Then I would have made different choices and I would not have ruined my beautiful marriage.