Friday, January 5, 2007

Naida's Story (as told to Anna): NAIDA OF THE OLD SCHOOL

I married an incurable womanizer; three years after marriage Jimmy hopped from one relationship to another looking for something I'm not sure he ever found. First, it was another doctor like him, then a nurse, then another doctor, then another nurse .. ad nauseum. All of these hurt terribly but I rationalized it was me that he came to. It was I who was queen of his home. I was so naively young and inexperienced about the ways of the world and busy mothering. I was perfectly willing to live with his little flings. My experience was that they hardly ever lasted. Just when I had wisened up to one, it would be over and another one was just about to begin. I thought Jimmy was sick that way. The way some other men might have asthma or migraine. He is chronically afflicted: an attack comes, then subsides; then another and another. Was he insatiable or simply vulnerable?

My children -- three of them married -- thought I was hopelessly oldfashioned. They called me a martyr who would never be cannonized. But my eldest daughter was more perceptive. She told me one day: "Mama, I know you have no choice. Even if you wanted to leave Daddy, you are so dependent on him in every way." Emotionally, socially, financially -- Lizzie meant. That's Lizzie -- she understands more than she cares to let on.

Right, I was just a school librarian; he is a doctor with a thriving practice. Thanks to him, my children went to the best schools, got to travel, enjoyed the good life. If I left him, my children would have to settle for less, much less -- unless I left my children to him. Which was unthinkable.

In a sense, I am a product of old values. In the '70s, a failure of marriage implied a failure of the wife. A wife was supposed to eat dirty bread and like it. A wife was supposed to take final responsibility for the marriage. A wife was supposed to preserve the family at all cost. Yes, I reckon I was old school. I flinched at the thought of going back to my home town in Palawan with the stigma of "SEPARATED WIFE" written in bold letters on my forehead.

I was a campus belle. I played the field, in a manner of speaking. At FEU, I was chosen muse of the varsity basketball team. I went steady with the captain ball. At a town fiesta the summer my athelete-boyfriend was away playing in the Olympics. I met a tall and handsome medical student from UST. That was Jimmy.

There is something in the white uniform of a medical student that sends a girl's heart hippity-hop. Jimmy would drop by our school library, where I was working as student assistant. "Psst, Naida," my friends would whisper with a wink, "your 'white man' is here now." When I strolled the campus with my white man, I felt like floating on air. In turn, Jimmy relished the idea of courting a librarian. When he had to explain his late hours, he simply told his mom he had to go to the library. She had no way of knowing he went to the library of another school.

Ours was a whirlwind courthsip. "Daig niya ang basketball player sa man-to-man guarding." I was 19, just about to graduate, when we got secretly married. Jimmy was about to start his medical residency.

Jimmy is basically a good man, who loves his children to distraction. He is quiet, gentle, undemonstrative. I guess he loved me in his own way, except that he had this incurable affliction. Reckoning that on the balance, I could have done worse, I was determined to make our marriage work. I closed my eyes to his little affairs -- sure that in my otherwise "charmed" life, his girls were just little mosquitoes that hover, annoy, and distract but in the end may simply be swat or shoeed away.

Nothing ever prepared me for Sarah. Not the mosquitoes -- oh, no, not those lightwieghts. She was a big one -- vicious and ambitious. I almost got swat by her.

An anonymous call alerted me to this new woman in Jimmy's life. Another nurse, the caller said. So, what's new ?! Oh, but this time, not a practising nurse but a medical representative. Oh, one of those, I thought. It was the nature of their jobs to pander to and flirt with doctors. Oh, well, since the caller gave me a number, I might as well call her up The voice -- somehow unagitated -- agreed to meet me at the Army and Navy Club, where Jimmy and I were members.

When I first saw her, I felt a teeny-weeny pinch of fear. A tall, well-built American mestiza, she looked too poised and in-control for her 21 years. But her words soothed me. Naku, Ma'am. How can you think that? I'm just doing my job. Si Dok, he's just a good client. Ay, Ma'am. My parents are so strict. They brought me up well. They'd kill me if I did anything like what you're thinking.

I left the club somewhat assured that the anonymous call was a false alarm. Meanwhile, my antennae were up. The way my husband was carrying on was far from assuring. He took to borrowing our son Mark's clothes and affected a young man's long hair and sideburns. When I rode in his car, I got a whiff of a jasmine scent, definitely not mine, for I detested jasmine. Once, I found a hankie that was neither mine nor my daughters'. Most of all, Jimmy was coming home late, later, or not at all.

Getting swat

I was in a cab with a cousin one day when I happened to spot my husband's car from the opposite direction. Traffic was heavy on Espana Street that noon. So vehicles were crawling. In a few seconds, I got out of the cab, ran to his car and climbed into it through the backdoor. I pounced on the girl -- berated her for lying ... called her names ... told her: "Sayang ka."

This time, she didn't try to dodge. "Uso naman ito," she said.

My husband took her side. "Don't be afraid, he consoled her. "I am with you all the way."

What do you do when you are about to get swat? You call for reinforcements, naturally. I phoned Lizzie, my daughter, to join us ahora y mismo. She came in another cab, ready for battle. As I bluffed about lawyers and legal separation proceedings, Lizzie attacked Sarah: "Huwag kang umasa. My parents will never separate. My mother will be Mrs. Soliman forever."

Perhaps Jimmy has gone soft in the head. Perhaps he really fell for her. Na-truelove, so to say. Perhaps, at 51, he thought he'd make this last hurrah an affair to remember. Or perhaps Sarah was really a heavy-weight. Perhaps she is gifted and talented in the love department in ways unfamiliar to me. Whatever the reason, Jimmy was hopelessly enamored. He brought her a condominium unit. I've never known Jimmy to go go that far.

In the eight years that the affair lasted, I tried everything to stop it. When I couldn't, I tried mightily to stop me from hurting.

I sent Sarah a picture of my family. "This is the family you are about to break," I wrote on the back. She returned it to sender without reply.

I talked to Sarah's father, who promised to talk to his daughter. Nothing happened.

I sent her letters -- alternately sweet talking, wheedling, pleading, threatening. In turn, she wrote me vicious replies. One of them read in part: "Even if you killed yourself trying to look young and beautiful, you will just succeed in looking pathetic. If I were you, magpatuka na lang ako sa ahas."

I had access to painkillers -- Jimmy had all these medical samples lying around. One night, when the hurt was so intense, I took an overdose of Madrax. In the twilight moments between waking and sleep, I felt I had to go to the bathroom. Too drugged to walk or crawl, I crept. Otherwise, I would have defecated on my bed.

If you think I had hit bottom then, think again. My grief was a bottomless pit. I turned to bottled spirits, drank till I puked. One morning, Jimmy came home and found me incoherent and reeking of alcohol. He hugged me in remorse as -- quite uncontrolably -- I alternately laughed and cried. The next day, he came home as late as before. He and Sarah didn't skip a beat.

I looked for other painkillers. Hare Krishna, Zen Buddhism, Mt. Banahaw, Science of the Mind and Man. I took all these routes, Lizzie in tow. They were effective analgaesics. Like their encapsulated and bottled sisters, they were good for only a few hours, but by then I began to soul-search -- go inwards.

If you need them, they will come

If you need them they will come. I mean people. Friends and strangers. Support systems. They helped me cope.

One of them was Mr. Bondoc. He was also a regular at the Army and Navy Club where I took my son swimming. I didnt know him from Adam, but he sought me out. He said he was compelled to talk to me because though I smiled, I had very sad eyes.

Mr. Bondoc became my listening post and best friend, until the time of his death two years ago. At the time of our meeting, he was also trying to get over an unfortunate marriage. He rationalized that with him, it was bound to happen because he was gay. But he had good vibes about my marriage, he said.

He advised me not to do anything drastic. He drew this wonderful analogy between an extramarital affair and and aircraft. "When an aircraft has just taken off, there's nothing you can do to stop it. The energy is just tremendous. Wait until it is up on the air and has settled. That is the time you can force it to land."

"In the meantime, Naida, while you're waiting for the plane to land, equip yourself. Gather your ammunitions. You owe that to your children.

On Mr. Bondoc's advice, I gathered all our savings, bonds and stock certificates and sent it to a sister in the United States. I withdrew all our bank accounts and put it in my name. In time, Jimmy found out. Though he raved and ranted, I stood my ground. It was an insurance for my kids. It was also a warranty for me. He couldn't leave me then -- I had all the money. And even if he did I felt secure that my children would not be deprived.

Meanwhile, Sarah's attacks escalated. She'd leave an indecent trail of her person -- now a panty hose, then a pelota sock, then a hairpin. Our car often reeked of jasmine. The phone rang at midnight -- it was she pretending to be a patient.

"Enough is enough," Mr. Bondoc cried, pre-empting my anger. He encouraged me to file disboardment proceeding with the Professional Regulation Commission against Sarah. After praying over the decision, I did. My case was strong, because of all the letters she sent me. And I could charge concubinage because I could show the courts their love nest.

All hell broke loose when Jimmy found that I filed the case at the PRC. "If you dont withdraw the case, you'll never see me again." With all the courage I could muster, I told him to do what he wanted but that I would never withdraw.

When the sheriff served Sarah the subpoena in her office, Jimmy rushed by her side. But in a few months, she lost her nursing license, then her job.

In six months, Sarah had left for the United States.

End of affair? Guess again.

My husband carried his torch for his mistress over the long distance. He burned the wires to hear her voice. He found ways to fly to the U.S. twice a month to renew their passion. The all-expenses paid medical conventions abroad were heaven-sent to him. That I sometimes travelled with him was just a piddling inconvenience. It was on such trip that I met another stranger that influenced my life.

What's your problem?

I met her in a connecting flight beween San Francisco and Miami, en route to Sao Paolo, Brazil, the site of yet another medical convention. We had just spend five days in San Francisco with Jimmy's sister. I had also just then firmed up my decision to leave Jimmy once and for all.

Louise, an elderly American, was seated between Jimmy and me in the plane. She told me that she lived in a nursing home, but that she was being taken by her only daughter on a vacation to Miami -- an annual treat she never fails to give her. She recounted her past -- her daughter was a love child whom she was tempted to abort but chose to have instead. She never married, she said. How she would have regretted it if she got rid of her baby, she exclaims, "...for look, she's my greatest joy now."

Then Louise asked where I was bound for. I told her and then pointed to my sleeping husband. "Oh, how nice," she said. "I hope you'll have a wonderful time." "I dont think so," I retorted, "because we're on the verge of a breakup. I told her I had decided to go to a lawyer once we got home.

But why, what's your problem?" she asked.

"Well, we spent five days in San Francisco ith his sister. He disappeareed for three days to be his mistress in another state."

"What's your problem," she said again.

"Well, he's been carrying on with her back home for years and years. If she didnt lose her license, they would've been still together. He's so crazy over her that he goes to visit her every so often."

"Fine. But what's your problem?" she persisted.

"Oh, can't you see? It's hopeless. I have to leave him."

"I can't see that you have a problem right now. Your husband is with you, isn't he? At the moment, the other woman has a problem, not you."

That jolted me.

Where did Louise come from? She shouldn't have been sitting beside me -- she was a wheelchair-bound invalid who should be occuping a special seat in the plane. The stewardess who met her was astonished too that the ground staff did not issue her a special aisle seat. But there she was at the very moment I needed someone to drive some sense into me.

Back in the Philippines, Louise's words resounding, I convinced myself I had no problem. I decided to stay in the marriage. I have survived all these years. What else is there to fear when I have gone through hell.

I met Sarah one last time. She came back for a short visit and insisted on seeing me. By then, my husband had taken up with another woman, one of the lightweights who didn't really threaten my happiness.

Sarah was crying. "Bakit ganun? No. 2 na nga ako, kinakaliwa pa. Talk to him, Ma'am. You're the wife. You have the right."

I told her to write off Jimmy from her life to clear the way for a new man. Before she left, I could not resist a parting shot. "Invite me to your wedding. I'd love to be your Ninang." We hugged each other then.

Growing old together

At 70, Jimmy is still practising medicine, but he has slowed down. Does he still cheat? Not to my knowledge. I'm not really sure, for I have stopped following him around. I am 65, retired as a librarian, but a starting a second career as trainer on value education and advocate for the green movement.

I surrounded myself with friends with whom I went dancing, outing, swimming. Years ago, I joined the Ramon Mitra presidential candidacy campaign, which put to use my organization skills. More recently, I joined the Toast Master's Club, which developed my gift for public speaking.

When I let go all my fears of losing my husband, I found myself. Where before, I revolved around him, I have now found other orbits. No longer as needful of his "sun," I shone on my own.

I lead a full life these days. Last week, I was invited to talk on parenting by a parent-teachers association. Next weekend, I'll be in Baguio to join a foruim on the green movement. When I return, Jimmy may or may not be waiting. Either way, I no longer hold my breath because he comes home eventually.

My daughter, Lizzie is, as usual right. I will be Mrs. Jimmy Soliman all my life. Honestly, I feel more "married" today than ever before. Years ago, Jimmy and I promised each other that come what may we will grow old together. We are doing that right now.

Whenever I see our numerous grandchildren flock around him nowadays, I know for sure that I have made the right decisions.

(Watch out for other stories of hurting and healing by Anna)

64 comments:

faith said...

Ms. Anna,

You have no idea how much this story moved me. My own Mama was hurt cruelly by my philandering father all throughout their marriage. He too always sided with his mistress, the love of his life daw.To this day, me and my sisters can't find it in our hearts to forgive him. Hell, we even believe that all those years of hurting accounts for her having acquired the Big C which killed her. You know, had she been still with us, I would've printed this and shown it to her.

She too got tired of chasing after our Papa. Instead, she cocooned herself in our (her four daughters, plus 1, our trusted househelp who became her confidante all those years) support as well as that of her friends, the Big 5, they called themselves. We even cajoled her to travel, but she put her foot down when it involved going away for several days. She was such a mother hen, you see, and she was so protective of the four of us.
She died happy, beautiful, and so dignified. That we still cry everytime we remember her is proof of how well-loved she is. To me, that somehow makes up for all those hurts.

Naida is so right. Reverse psychology works. Our papa kept on parading women the moment Mama left us. We asked him, o what's wrong, you're free to marry your "soulmate" of the "love of your life" now that Mama is gone,complete with smirk. Guess what? The prospect of marrying women who couldn't even hold a candle to Mama scared him so much. Alas, it was the four of us who insisted that he remarried, to spare us from the "poor-me-i'm-a-widower drama".

Maybe bec. of what we had to go through, the four of us continue to be united. We always look out for another and we swore that none of us will ever, ever allow men to treat us like that.

Mama must be laughing up there,methinks.

So sorry for the very lengthy comment. Accounts of women being hurt like these just move me intensely.

Thanks for sharing, and in such a beautiful manner.

annamanila said...

Oh, Faith, this blog has been so long without a response that I almost never check it anymore.

Stories of women betrayed are not unique .. i guess every other woman has experienced it ... different degrees of humiliation, of rejection, of uncertainty. Always always the pain is excruciating.

I know how your mom felt. And I am glad she came to the point that she gave up monitoring him. Did she stop loving? But see, it made her even a better mom to all four of you.

These stories of women that I have written end up differently. But the constant is that the experience made the women stronger in the end.

I have other stories (this was supposed to be a book project but my partner didn't deliver her stories). I am thinking of serializing it in my main blog, ode2old ... i just don't know if it would find an audience.

Thanks Faith for reading it. And I hope in time you forgive your dad. Maybe you also don't know what's inside his heart.

H said...

It's wonderful that you're posting these stories here.

There are a lot of people out there who still believe in 'old school' values which is a limiting way of seeing logic -- a logic that extends beyond one's individual-driven needs. I think it's the difference between believing in keeping together for the family and fighting for one's indivdual rights to be in an equal relationship where the man takes equal responsibility.

Unfortunately, men and women are brought up so differently & then expected to live together.

auee said...

hi there

First of all, I really want to compliment you on your writing style. Very engaging.

Now about this post, ngayon ko lang ako nagkatime to visit your blog and I chose this out of three in your profile. Di man ako maka-relate fully, may experience din ako about betrayal and I know how difficult it is to recover whether recover the trust or your self-esteem.

Ang iniisip ko after reading your post is whether I can do the same. Parang "I will accept my fate & not fight it, just because I want my marriage"... Hindi ko matanggap. Ang nasa isip ko ngayon, why would I settle for that? Why would I want a husband who is not 100% mine??

Grabe po ba ang reaction ko? Please understand I'm not looking to "fight" or argue. Siguro I need more insight?

annamanila said...

H!

Thanks for your insightful comments. Women react to and cope with betrayal different ways. Who is to say which one is best. Some of the stories end in reconciliation. Others in separation. Others in temporary separation and ultimate reconciliation. There are people who would choose to be in the marriage whatever the circumstances, for children's sake, for society's approval, etc. Well, each of us make our own choices. Theres no right or wrong -- as long as we take responsibility for our choices.

I am thinking of serializing more stories (I got six in all) but this blog is so obscure. Maybe in my main blog -- ode2old.

annamanila said...

Auee!

You can'trelate .. that's splendid! I hope you never have to. :)

It's easy to say in abstraction what you will or will not do when a hypothetical case happens to you. If you get my drift I used to say kung ayaw na nya sa akin lalo kong ayaw sa kanya. But then I ended up fighting for my man when an interloper came. Yes, one of the stories I have in my file is mine. :)

Ty ty

P.S. How come I can't access your site?

H said...

Anna, I don't think you should worry about this blog becoming obscure.

It is a legitimate archive of some very valuable stories.

perhaps you could have plugs to in in your main site... But I feel that a forum like this might be interesting ... if it stands on its own.

what I particularly like is that you haven't pushed your own opinion on whether the paths the women took were 'right' or 'wrong'.

I might not entirely appreciate some things about Naida's story, but it did get me thinking about a LOT of things.

Looking forward to the next 5 stories.

Perhaps you could link to some sites that help women understand their strengths within the roles that they play in their families.... just a thought.

Do check the link on my page - guerilla girls. I had come across it long back, and I love the idea that drives them. However, I also believe that Asian ways of coping have traditionally been different. And there are just so many ways to understand gender dynamics.

However i think the way that we can all really make a difference is by bringing up sons in exactly the way that we bring up daughters... to be mindful of others' feelings, to be sensitive to pain, to understand that nurturing is a wonderful fulfilling process of giving and recieving... we're all equal inheritors of the world.

Gina said...

Anna,

Just read this story today..So touching ,and so empowering.

mari said...

hi anna, i found this blog linked to your blog :D

i got addicted to your stories.

i'm learning a lot from these women.

annamanila said...

Gina and Marie!

Thank you for finding your way into this other blog that I have. Thank you for your words of appreciation and your empathy with the women featured in my hurting stories.

A second piece -- Nena's story -- has been posted in my main blog httpL//ode2old.blogspot.com Ty again

Dine said...

these stories impart lessons to your readers, Annamanila.

there are so many people out there who are hurting, coping, healing, who will, one way or another, benefit from your stories. there are many people out there who have no else to turn to.

these stories serve as inspiration to many, that it is not the end of the world. that negative energies may be turned to positive energies, making the person a better person in the end.

we could do something, dear Annmanila, we can inform other people out there in the blogosphere that such a blogsite exists--that this blogsite exists.

you could even invite others to share their stories (similar to what we have in pinoymomsnetwork). your blogsite could even be a support mechnism for them people who re hurting, coping, healing...

zahflo said...

Hmm, maybe you should write my story hehehe. Pero hindi pa tapos kasi, wala pa sa forgiveness part. Hmmm...that is kung darating pa ba yun?

It's true that when you stop thinking of the man and start living your life, everything else gets better. The pain will always be there, but it eventually becomes a faint memory. I'd rather make new memories than dwell on the past. :-) It's just too bad that a lot of us has to go through the pain of betrayal...

BTW, I never thought elder women wrote such wonderful blogs! hehe akala ko dati hobby lang to ng mga kabataang walang magawa sa buhay. Maybe I should teach my mama to blog...

Elaine said...

Ms. Anna,

I just cant leave your story. I grew up knowing that my father has another family. He spends most of his time with them. When he lost his job, he relies on friends and small time business to support them while my grandfather supported us through school. The mistress even went to our home when i was younger and made a scene infront of our house. I cant comprehend then what was happening but i do remember the strange looks of our neighbors. My mom cant leave him because she depended on him for so long, when she opted to be a plain housewife after their wedding (and my father wouldnt want to leave us also). I am now married and my father hasnt changed. My mom is such a martyr (we told her so). I am afraid my husband might cheat on me knowing that my dad did so to my mother...

millet s said...

Well, I have the same experience with my husband of 23 years who fell in love with his old school crush. At first, I also did as Naida did: tried to talk sense to the woman who is 5 years my senior and Catholic Charismatic member at that, to her family and her Pastor, with my daughter in tow; all to no avail. Then, I begin to realize that in doing these things, I further humiliate and demean myself and become unattractive in the process. So, I removed all bitterness and concerntrated on taking care of myself, making myself beautiful inside and out. All the while, making sure that my two grown children are well taken care of. In 2004, after 4 years (the affair started in 2000) of being emotionally and physicaly single, I decided to try again. I registered at an internet dating site and met this British senior executive of a finance firm. Through him, I am able to see the world: June and July he sends for me to visit him int he UK when I accompany him in various European capitals for his meetings/conferences and end of the year, we spend holidays in warmer climates in various Asian cities. My lifestyle is the envy of my friends and work colleagues. Curious thing, he also willingly spent for my beauty enhancements, here and there, so that my husband is now very intrigued of my youinger and sexier appeal. I'm now int he process of filing for divorce from him in the UK so I could marry this new wonderful man and re-settle in the UK and start a new career after retiring from my government job in the Philippines. My children are happy that I have found a new love and my friends are prodding me to share my own hurting, coping and healing experience to other similarly situated women, for them to realize that success is the best revenge and that it is best served cold.

millet s said...

Dear Anna,

It's me again, Millet. I just read about Nena's own story of love and betrayal, and I realized my own coping way was somewhat similar to hers. When I found out about the affair, I too talked nicely to the woman and tried to befriend her thinking that the kindness would move her. To no avail. For seven long years, she continued her open illicit relationship with my husband and remaining very active in the Charismatic movement, without skipping a beat. At first too, I was combative towards my husband, we had fights witnessed by the children. Then I realized, my children didn't have to be involved in this tragedy and that I shd protect them from its consequences. So, I stopped caring and acting like a victim, a forlorn sad woman betrayed. I told myself, I will make sure that something positive will come out of this experience. Now, looking back, I am thinking my husband's affair has turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Because he was an extremely jealous insecure man, who wouldn't let me learn how to drive, wouldn't let me attend school reunions (but he himself could, that's where he met again the woman) and work harder on my career. To the point that back then whenever I feel so hurt by his irrational and abusive tendencies, I would wish, in a fit of depression, that he would turn his attention to someone else. So , again the old adage, "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it" became true in my case. Anyway, my new love often tells me now that it's good that my husband is an idiot for letting someone like me go, for otherwise, we wouldn't have met. To my husband's credit, he never neglected his responsibilities to his family. In return, I never badmouthed him to my children. And we get along pretty well now to the amazement of our friends and relatives. Because I am able to be a fulfilled person in the process of my healing, I became happier, more beautiful. I learned how to drive, how to dance, I exercise, became semi-vegetarian and pursued my career with greater vigor, things that were never possible for me when I was still with my overbearing husband. So my children are very happy with the way things have turned out and they themselves were unaffected, and are now both successful in their chosen careers. The eldest, my daughter, a medical board topnotcher, is doing her residency in Pediatrics in a Pennsylvania hospital while my son is a talented freelance web designer and systems designer with clients all over the world. I am now almost 51 yrs old while my British fiancee is 49 years old. I begun to live the kind of life I deserve when my husband had an affair.

Anna, should you decide to pursue the aborted book about women betrayed, I am willing to contribute my story to you. I want to inspire more women to become winners rather than become victims. Millet Salvador. milletsalvador@yahoo.com

diogenes said...

This could be a good series. Every one has some thing to tell and not very many listneres. Have you already abandoned this. Why?

Jeannie said...

aarggh. please give your friend a HUG from me. GrABE. It is true. In this life, we are each other's redemption.

snowy.peace said...

Hi Ms. Anna,

Upon reading your post on Hurting, Coping, Healing can't help but pity myself I just started my own agony I'm in my 30's just found out that my husband cheated me 4yrs ago the physical contact lasted only 3mos. coz he met this girl during his last 3 mos. of his schooling abroad which I am thankful for but I just found it last July this year they may have contact each other thru emails, phone calls, whatever the good thing is that my husband is with me all the time.(I can assure you to that)Since I found it we have a heart to heart talk and he asked forgiveness. As I went on reading such stories it gives me insights and realized that mine is just a tip on a finger as compared to their experiences but you know what? It's really hurting and for now my husband lost my complete trust! I just closed my eyes with what I have had found because my kids are still too young for me to hurt them. Honestly, my world revolves around him only for him. The stories help me cope up with what I have had. I was hurt, and I am still hurting. I do hope by reading your post I will continuously ease my pain. Tnx for sharing all this things. You're indeed a blessing to me. Again, Thank you!

Annamanila said...

Dine, Zahflo, Elaine, Millet S, Dio, Jeannie, and Snowy Peace!

I have almost forgotten about this blogsite and even my main site under the weight of office work, family concerns, pre-retirement hassles, and goodness knows what else!

Tonight, I don't know what made me click it. And I goose-pimpled when I saw the unread comments on how you identified with Naida, how the story touched you, the willingness of some of you to tell their own hurting-healing stories, your encouragement to keep on blogging about women betrayed.

Some of you might know that I have retired, or to put it more accurately, semi-retired. I still work in the office which has put up with me for countless years, but now on part time retainer basis.

What I am trying to say is that very soon (as soon as I put some urgent projects and the paper chasing for my retirement moolah out of the way), I will have more time for blogging. And time to think of how to revive this site.

What I will probably do first is to reproduce here the stories that I still have with me (including the two or three already posted in my main blogsite).

I plan to take you up, Zahflo, Millet S and Snowypeace, on your offer to tell your own story. Not just now .. but soon ...

Thank you.

Kuya Ronnie said...

First I would have to agree with auee, you are a natural story teller better than charo and mel.

And forgive my indulgence ladies, I know I am out of my domain, but a white flag I carry.

My mom have used that reverse psycho thing very effectively.. I did not see my mother cried nor argue with my father regarding women,though she knows my old man is doing what most married men do. She would even ask "How is she?". then my father would even exaggerate saying how great the "other" is, but my mom would just say "good for you". then it was my dad who always get upset but mom couldn't careless.

I maybe young back then and maybe my mom just know how to hide from us her children the hurt..but definitely she was able to fought back by patronizing and silent treating my old man..it was a very effective defense and weapon at the same time.

I will leave something for you ladies to think of.....

A ton of words cannot stop your hubby from looking for other women instead you will be giving him more reasons to do so. He will even use it to his advantage, you know how sympathy turns into something more.

And my wife I guess have found out about my mother's weapon and she is using it against me for 8 years now.

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8787 said...

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于名于名 said...

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宛齊陳 said...

It is never too late to learn. ..................................................................

林建隆 said...

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貞合 said...

知識可以傳授,智慧卻不行。每個人必須成為他自己。....................................................................

銘木 said...

在莫非定律中有項笨蛋定律:「一個組織中的笨蛋,恆大於等於三分之二。」......................................................................

皇銘 said...

成熟,就是有能力適應生活中的模糊。.................................................................

怡潔怡潔 said...

It takes all kinds to make a world.............................................................

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Quietude is the crown of life.............................................................

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承王蓁 said...

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灏群 said...

路過留言支持~~~..................................................

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