About a month ago, I spent time with one of my childhood friend, and a couple weeks later I spent time with another childhood friend. They, too, were friends as children, but now I am the conduit through which they keep in touch. The three of us (and many of our other childhood friends) are spread across the country and globe, so I don’t often have the chance to see them in person, though we keep in touch via phone and email. At times, however, as much as a decade has passed between face-to-face visits.
Because we haven’t grown up together in-person (we were together in our early teens, but not during high school or college or post-college), I think our views of one another are sometimes stuck in the past. I can spend hours talking to Mona on the phone–hearing about her husband and their daughter–but when I see her in person, she is at least partially still that pre-adolescent girl who I met a couple dozen of years ago who is barely old enough to babysit. Or Ricki comes to visit, and I’m happily surprised at the woman who wants to nest for the weekend because I still remember the teenager who thought she was missing something if she didn’t go out every single night.
Ricki’s in a relationship with a man who I consider to be dominant, yet mentally abusive. This isn’t consentual D/s, unless you consider the fact that she was fully aware of his personality when she chose to marry him. In their relationship, it’s all about him, and he fails to take into account their collective interests when making a decision that affects both of them.
For example, they’ve twice relocated because of his job. In one case, they moved to a place where she was all but unemployable. After several years she was finally able to obtain a job, and then they promptly moved again. They now live 10 minutes from his office, and 90 minutes from hers. He easily makes 10 times her salary, yet he insists that they evenly split their housing costs. She suffers from some moderately serious health problems, and after a long week at work, there are weekends where she just wants to chill out at home. Yet he becomes irate–and threatens divorce–blaming her for the fact that they don’t know many people in this city where they’ve lived for about a year.
I may be a submissive woman myself, but when I spend time with Ricki, I just want to tell her to get a backbone. The fact is, her husband’s a selfish jerk. He only cares about himself. If he’s not having fun, he’s going to pack up his toys and go home. But is it abuse? Do the pros outweigh the cons? I can only guess based on what I’ve observed. He’s successful. He’s charismatic. He’s rich. He’s smart. He’s gregarious. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. But he’s also selfish. He’s shallow. He’s childish. He’s unsupportive.
I think Ricki feels as if she’ll never find another man who matches up to his good qualities (even though she herself is smart, worldly, fun and model-beautiful…she could attract a wonderful man, and in the past she has). It frustrates me, because I remember the girl who I first knew, who wouldn’t put up with crap from anyone, and loved and respected herself. As much as I adore her, in her 30s she’s become a bit shallow. I think she likes having a rich, handsome husband. But is it worth the pain? I think not. But then again, I’m not in her shoes. Might, someday, I be married and have my friends wonder, “What does she see in that jerk?”
Posted by J 
