MOOD SWINGS … and MORE
My first Christmas with HIM!
Growing up, I lived very close to our neighborhood church—my world revolved around school, friends nearby, and church activities. People have sometimes described this as living “like a raccoon,” since I rarely strayed far from home. Christmas Eve was a family and church affair; after service, we’d head home for a feast of holiday foods. As time went on and my siblings married and had children, our group at church grew larger each year, followed by gathering at home to eat and exchange gifts.
The year I started dating HIM, my youngest sister was only six or seven, still bubbling with excitement over presents. HE attended a Greek Orthodox church, where his family celebrated the Nativity on January 7th according to the old calendar, so there were no decorations or signs of Christmas at HIS home until after New Year’s. Despite this, he joined me at my church’s service and family celebration. He brought my little sister a gift—in a garbage bag. At first, she angrily tossed it aside, thinking it was just filled with paper, but when she discovered a stuffed bear at the bottom, everyone laughed, and HE instantly became a hero.
Later that evening, we began opening gifts. As a student with limited money, I had carefully chosen a man’s bracelet for him—a popular item at the time. HE waited until most people left and my parents had gone to bed before opening it. Like a switch turning on, the mood shifted dramatically: instead of gratitude, HE reacted with anger, furious that I’d given him a Christmas present when it wasn’t HIS Christmas. He threw the bracelet at me and stormed out, leaving me in tears, questioning how I could have misunderstood him and me feeling guilty for being “insensitive.” Before he left, he grabbed my wrist and warned me never to “insult” him like that again, leaving bruises as a reminder.
I had not been physically punished—not by my parents or even during childhood disagreements with my siblings. That night, it didn’t occur to me to wonder about not receiving a gift from him; instead, I was preoccupied with whether I had done something wrong to make him upset. I kept his behavior to myself and felt relieved when he called the next morning, acting as though nothing had happened and suggesting we meet again.
THE PAST GIRLFRIENDS – They did not deserve HIM –
I was entertained by HIS stories of past relationships, many of whom I knew because of attending the same school and shared activities. There was the “cheerleader”, she had messed up the mat carpet in his perfectly clean car and therefore was not asked out again. There was a fellow “majorette” who was too difficult to get along with, she was not good enough for HIM. There was a girl from his neighborhood (whom I did not know well). HE told me about her father offering to buy him a house if he would just marry his daughter. I do not recall what HE thought was wrong with her. It was well known that a classmate of his was in love with him, but she was not as beautiful as he would like. As I began dating HIM, my majorette friend cautioned me that HE was not someone to get involved with. The not-so-beautiful classmate, whom HE shunned, also cautioned me that I should be very careful. (I discovered that she was an especially beautiful person on the inside). HE often repeated these stories and others of his other encounters with girls; HE was reminding me of how “special” I was to have been the one chosen by HIM. Early in our dating I was working at a Dairy Queen. HE told me he would sit in his car watching me work there; if he was on a date, he would send the girl in for their ice cream so that I would not know he was with someone else. I was to take this as a compliment; once again I was reminded that I was fortunate to have been “chosen”.
AN INSIGHTFUL COMMENTARY on the not-so-worthy girlfriend stories:
…...”the way you wrote this reads like someone finally laying out a pattern they’ve been carrying for a long time — and seeing it clearly. When you place all those stories side by side, a very specific dynamic emerges, and it’s not about those girls at all. It’s about him shaping a narrative where he is the prize, the victim, the exception, and the one who must be pursued, admired, and protected.
*** please continue to read this enlightening commentary with the link below:
…
🌱 What matters most is what I am doing now
I am not just remembering — I am reframing.
I am seeing the architecture behind the charm.
I am recognizing that what once felt flattering was actually a setup.
THE ENTREPRENEUR
He completed a Master’s in Business while I started my bachelor’s degree and worked at a hospital, as he suggested, which was good for me. He took a job in a city close to our hometown, making it easy for us to meet. He often visited home on weekends, and we spent time together. He was dissatisfied with his job, disagreed with directives, and had issues with co-workers. After less than a year, he was terminated, which HE believed was a terrible mistake by the employer.
This led to the idea of working for himself; HE was educated in business and knew how to do a start-up. I had been a customer at a small apparel shop owned by an older couple. In conversations they indicated that they were ready to retire and would teach us the business and introduce us to their suppliers in New York City. This was many years ago and the retail apparel business operation was quite different than that business today. He moved back to the small town. A local bank was willing to make a business loan and the business grew rapidly. I left my healthcare position and worked many years for the business. He became very successful with multiple locations and expanded products lines.
THE MUDDY TRUTH (literally)
We bought a piece of property in a residential area to build a house. We literally built the house ourselves – HE acted as the designer and general contractor – some parts were to be contractor use, others we did the work ourselves, and the bank was willing to do a mortgage. Boy, were times different then! The house would be a duplex, we would live in half and rent the other half. Of course, this meant we would be married. HE proposed when the house was well underway. Times were different! It began with needing to excavate for a basement. I have another traumatic memory like it was yesterday. After the excavation was done, plastic drains needed to be placed. We were doing this ourselves with direction from the plumber. It had rained and the ground was saturated. We carried the 4” pipes into the area and began to set them out. At one point, HE told me to look from the opposite end of a longer section to tell him when it was straight. I eyed the pipe and said it was straight. HE told me it was not, that HE could see it was not. After going back and forth a few times, he came to my end to look for himself, and HE aggressively, angrily, threw me down into the mud. I was covered with mud, splattered on my face and hair. Then, HE showed me how the pipe should be, told me I better go get cleaned up from slipping into the mud.
Once again, I STAYED! With our work, we had a nicer home, than most in our circle of friends, and with rental income!
GET YOUR TEETH FIXED!!
Somewhere during this time, again something I can picture like it was yesterday, we were heading into his parents home and he stopped and told me it was about time that I got braces on my teeth. He mocked me by laughing at me with his exaggerated “bucked” teeth. Once again bringing my parents into the situation, HE could not understand why my parents did not pay for me to have my teeth fixed. My parents had taken me to be evaluated, but I refused to have braces. I was 13 years old, and they did not insist. At 23 years old, I went to the orthodontist and 2 years later, I was close to being finished. HE insisted I have them removed a bit early for our wedding.
HIS HAND OF CARDS WAS AS CLEAR AS COULD BE! I JUST DIDN’T SEE THEM!!
A POWERFUL SHIFT
When I look back at my younger self hearing those stories I now know what I should have heard!
