My life as a failure (update)
by tamarjacobson
Last night I was in the company of people who have all been married to the same person for over twenty years. At one point, for some reason that is obscure to me, I volunteered information about my many previous marriages. I think it might have been because I wanted them to know who I am and how I came to be me. That is one of the ways I get around feeling anonymous in a new town trying to make new friends.
Before long I found myself being questioned as the one and only representative of serial monogamy. All eyes were on me ("Could that be why I volunteered the information?" I wonder) as the interrogation proceeded:
So, I’ve always wondered why people marry so many times … just like Elizabeth Taylor … ("Oh God," I thought in a panic, "Am I like Elizabeth Taylor?) … why do they do it? Is it because they believe in marriage? ("Oh God," more panic, "Quick, think, Tamar! Why did I marry so many times? What is wrong with me? What do I do, what do I say? … quick!"). I mean after they burn out each marriage do they hope the next one will work out or something? What is that? ("Burn out!?" I shrieked to myself, face definitely turning bright red – or is it purple? – "Did I burn out all those marriages? Oh God, oh God, what are they all thinking of me? Why did I say anything in the first place? What do I do? What do I say now?")
Thinking quickly I began defending my actions, desperately trying to explain the oddity that is me, the mess, failure, minority that is me. I was looking intently at the wall of morality and purity, those eyes staring back at me in judgment and wonder while my new friends leaned securely towards their life partners of so many more years than I could ever manage now, even if I wanted to, at age 57. I just do not have the time to belong to the LMCC (long-married-couple-club) any longer. Yes indeed, I could now safely declare to myself once and for all:
I am, and forever will be, a failure at life.
So, first I tried to pin the blame on my childhood:
"Well, you see," I explained, "I have to say, and please excuse the expression, I come from such a fxxcked-up family system that I have absolutely no idea what marriage is. I have no model of how it looks, what to do to make it work. I have no expectations or tools to get it right."
Okay. This worked. Everyone was nodding now. Sympathetic and understanding looks in their eyes. So I continued trying to show what a good soul I really am (after all I needed to try and get into their good graces after so foolishly letting them know the ghastly truth about me in the first place. "I mean," I thought to myself, "What was I thinking?"):
"I guess I was just hopeful each time that it could work out."
More nodding. So I talked more about my fxxcked-up family system and even more about how hard I always tried to make things work and finally, by some miracle, someone changed the damn subject.
I spent the rest of the evening in silence. Discomfort and sadness welled up inside me and a general sense of worthlessness. With great relief it was time for me to go. I could not get over how tired I had become.
After a restless sleep of wild and troubling dreams I awoke early this morning, head pounding and eyes burning. "What was that all about?" I asked myself. "All that panic and fear about my past." I realized that in my desperation to make new friends I forgot to wait, take time, and learn where and when it was safe to divulge the complexity of my life experiences and personal, such deeply personal, facts about myself.
Will my desperate-for-love-and-acceptance-and-acknowledgment-inner-child forever rise up and out to expose and hurt herself impulsively like that over and over again?
As I sat staring out at my huge oak tree, peace began to return to me again. It’s old, quiet strength seeped into my soul and I sighed deeply.
My burning eyes become healed with soft, gentle and self-forgiving tears, as I write to myself with relief and understanding. Head starts to stop aching and my breathing becomes even again.
What better way for me to comfort that sad little yearning child within, than to sit at my blog and just write it out … simply write it out …
And for you all to just read and listen … simply listen and read …
Update
Quote of the day:
There should be room for all of us, whether it’s the one person for a lifetime folks or those who’ve entered deeply into relationships a few times or those who’ve chosen to go the path alone. From Brenda‘s comment.
tamarjacobson 
Tamarika, who could not identify with your self consciousness, in all honesty, everyone has at some time felt pressed to make some explanation for themselves, and truly, none should ever be necessary.
I know what it feels like to talk myself into a corner,and feel excluded, and so your honest story is very heartfelt and beautiful.
I believe you speak for us all. Thank you!
Love, Sherry
MB, I graciously accept your hug. By the way, your CD arrived two days ago and I shall be listening to it soon! So, hugs to you too!
You strike me as a singularly brave and resilient person, Tamar. And their comments strike me as bewilderingly insensitive. They, who’ve been together 20 years or more, should know as well as anybody what hard work it can be to stay married.
May I offer you a hug?
MaryB,
Thanks for sharing your ramblings about this. By the way – can you e-mail me the details of how I could purchase your book? It sounds grand! My e-mail address is in my “about” page in the upper left column. If and when I come to that big Apple – I will be sure to let you know – you better believe it!
Ah, Richard – I happily and graciously accept hugs from you – you know that!
How lucky you are, Tamarika, to have friends who’ve said as wise and compassionate things as the commenters above! They leave me with nothing to add of my own except a hug.
Tamar, I’ve read and re-read this post over the past couple of days, but I don’t really know how I want to comment on it. It makes me angry than these folks (nice, well-intentioned, I’m sure) found your experiences worthy of a magnifying glass. And it makes me a little confused that the whole experience made you feel like a messy failure. I don’t know what to say to you about that. As one who has also gone through two husbands, I have two very good reasons why I am no longer married (and haven’t been so since 1987). I think I would consider myself a failure if I’d stuck it out with either of these guys! 😉 Anyway, I’m rambling, but I want you to know that I’m thinking of you and am glad that you can use your blog to sort some of this out within yourself. Cheers! (And come to NY soon so we can talk – )
Nappy40 weighs in! So good to hear from you again. I shall think of those words you write: “optimism, resilience … to brush [my]self off and find love again.” They give me such a strong and hopeful image. Thank you so much, Nappy.
Ainelivia,
I get a kick out of thinking of you reading this post and chuckling to yourself recognizing the feelings and inner struggles. Thanks for being there to “listen and read, read and listen” with me. Your support is always encouraging for me. Of course you must know that when you call me successful in my career or motherhood, I can always pull out proofs for you of where I believe I have failed (smiles) … but am feeling confident this morning and will accept, with grace, your showing me these facts that you see about me. Thank you.
Morning Tamarika,
Sitting here and chuckling at your description of the dialogue you describe, and especially the inner dialogue. Because I so recognise that in myself.
Now if anyone compared me to Elizabeth Taylor, her marriages and not her beauty, I’d be spitting. But then it’s unlikely, the beauty bit I mean.
Oh I recognise so much of this. So you are only human and wonderfully so. Isn’t this what happens when we feel out of step with the majority. Oh I do so recognise your self-revelation and it’s reasons. And boy do I recognise that bit about revealing too much and why. Oh yes. I call the morning-after bit the self-revelation hangover.
With all these years of therapy, (and I have changed therapists) one thing I do believe is that in any relationship it’s more or less 50/50, whether we understand that or no, we bring lots of things into relationships, and lots of it the projected stuff.
But hold on now, is this really you, talking of “failure” and “normality”, is this the woman who has lived in several countries, is well-educated and successful, both in mother-hood and career? And much of that I imagine is because of your life-experiences and what you’ve gleaned from life. Oh I sometimes wish those words, the f-word and the nor-word could be erased from dictionaries.
You see this is why I like reading your writing. You are honest, with yourself and others, and open, and say it like it is. And you do that “hard on yourself” thing with skill. Now that’s the bit you need to ditch.
Big Hug to You, you worked it out.
You wrote about your relationships before and I wondered too how someone could marry four times. But my curiosity wasn’t because of the “failure,” I was and still am in awe of your optimism and resilience. Many people get jaded about life and would never date again, let alone marry. The way you are able to brush yourself off and find love again is awesome, Tamar.
Hi Ronni,
Yes. I heard an interview with her once where she talked about that! I wish I could say that was true for me too … but I think it might be a bit more complex than that … as, indeed, I think it is for her too, if she were honest with herself … and which she probably is behind the camera.
Elizabeth Taylor once said she’d had eight husbands because she married men instead of just sleeping with them…
Heidi,
I like who you are too! SO much!
Had I been not been married from ages 18 to 23, I would not be the same person I am today. And I really LIKE who I am today!
Hello again joared! Yes, and in fact, of course they may have been just curious thinking of their own histories. My story tells about how I judge myself through the words of others – how my insecurities and “neuroses” kick in sometimes in these kinds of circumstances. Hence the calling of myself a “failure.” Being kind to myself is something quite new that I am learning. It’s hard to break old habits! Thanks, joared.
Joy, Thank you so much for loving my post! It was quite marvelous how much better and more understanding I felt after I had written it. Am so grateful to blogging!
Mary, blogs as support groups! So often I see myself in the things you write too. It is always a comfort for me when I know that with some of these challenging feelings I am not weird or unique. Just human!
Danny,
Yes, I found comparing me to Elizabeth Taylor very amusing as well (after I had written the post, of course). On the one hand I am so not like her (but then do I, will I ever know what Ms. Taylor is like in any case?) – on the other – why are serial monogamists always being compared to her? Is that so bad? And so it all fits into those ugly stereotypes that you refer to as the messages we receive about divorce and failure, and the fantasy of that really good family life … whatever that means!
Hello Adriana!
Yes, that expression “burn-out” really got to me! I always forget, in those instances, that it takes two to make a marriage work or not and accept all the blame. So “burn-out” really got to me for some reason! Thank you for being there!
Dear Jean, and there you are again! And yet, I liked what joared commented too. My mind did it’s trick and games with me and the inner child reacted. For all I know the new acquaintances were reviewing their own histories as they asked me all those questions.
Brenda, I love this part of your comment: “There should be room for all of us, whether it’s the one person for a lifetime folks or those who’ve entered deeply into relationships a few times or those who’ve chosen to go the path alone.” I will update my piece and make it as the quote of the day! Thank you for the hugs, too. I send you hugs from here. Big, strong ones!
As much as we may think we know what others are thinking, we may not at all, despite outward appearances.
Is it possible that some of your new acquaintances were not being judgmental, merely curious? Could some of them been thinking about when they almost left their marriage…wondering if your reasons for doing so, might have been similar to their own…that maybe they should have?
The language we give ourselves — failure — by what and whose criteria?
Oh Tamar, be kind to yourself!
Failure? What failure Tamar? You were put on the defensive and felt backed into a corner. You ARE a good soul…the best. In my eyes, there was no need for you to feel worthless. This was so honestly beautiful. There’s nothing wrong with you or your life…or the way you live it for that matter. You have ALL the answers in this post already Tamar…I loved it and I love you for writing it!
Ah Tamar. This is so moving. I am glad you wrote it … even though it comes too close to comfort for me.
As others have said, we are all unique. Our family backgrounds are unique, the circumstances of our lives, our histories, are our own, our nervous systems and emotions are also ours alone.
So how can our stories, our life paths, ever be exactly the same as someone else’s And I say this as one who has done almost exactly the same thing as you did last night, with oh-so-similar feelings afterwards!
Lots of love.
I so agree–why do we have to look at marriages that end as “failures?” I learned SO much during my first marriage. Even though we realized that we should not remain together in that way, I refuse to look at that experience as a failure. What a success you are that you knew when it was time to move on in each of your marriages! Many people are not so lucky.
And why shouldn’t you reveal those details about your life right off the bat? It’s part of who you are, like being Jewish and from Rhodesia. The Elizabeth Taylor comment was dumb (but funny imagining you being compared to her!) and that question about why people marry so many times a bit inane (my response would have been “why do you think?”).
All that said, I still sometimes burst into tears at the fact that my daughter comes from a “broken home” (those awful and ridiculous words!) and the loss of the Waltons/Andy Hardy fantasy that still lives somewhere inside my psyche. We are bombarded with so many messages about how we’re supposed to be living and it can be so hard to shake that divorce = failure bullshit.
I love listening to you, Tamar. I offer a hug, too, and my empathetic tears. What makes me most sad is the self-blame – why would it have to be YOU to burn out the marriages? Why would it have to be your fault at all other than to fall in love and accept an offer of marriage?
I don’t suppose it helps much to know what a powerful piece of writing this is? Hugs!!! It’s them, not you!
I’ve been married twice, and really they were my only long-term live-in relationships: the first 5 years; the second 15 years. I couldn’t imagine spending a lifetime with one person, at least I haven’t met that person yet (& it’s probably a bit late by now). There should be room for all of us, whether it’s the one person for a lifetime folks or those who’ve entered deeply into relationships a few times or those who’ve chosen to go the path alone.
:big hugs:
Winston,
What you write in the first paragraph of your comment is so true. And, indeed, one needs so much more time to explain those things. There is no one simple answer. I guess I always seize any opportunity to “beat myself up” – it’s that old inner child acting out again! And, in fact, I had put myself out there way too soon in my desperate need for new friends, so I only have myself to blame for all those feelings I experienced. All in all, I find there is also quite a bit of humor in all those ridiculous questions, stereotypes, comparisons, and assumptions, once I get past the angst and my insecurities.
Thanks for listening and reading and being there for me today. I appreciate your comment very much.
The ending of marriages or similar close relationships are not “failures”. Some are fortunate escapes, some can be dubbed hard and expensive learning, all can be viewed as the opening of new opportunities. But failures – no. There is no upside to beating yourself up like that.
What a strange group you were with. I know very few people over 40 that have been in only one marriage or long-term relationship. They, not we, are the minority. That does not make either of us right or wrong, just different in how we cope with life in the trenches.