I guess I’m supposed to let it go. You betrayed all of us, had an intimate, year long affair with our children’s teacher, our daughter’s friend’s mom, our sons mentor’s wife.
But you want to make sure I’m doing what’s best for the kids.
I guess I need to shake it off. You used me as a free counselor to get through your heartbreak, your suicidal ideation, your loneliness, your depression, while you were seeing other women and I was parenting our children.
But you want to make sure that I communicate correctly in our partnership.
I guess I need to just pat myself on the back. I coached the children to try to forgive you, to know you loved them, to go to your house on your days, to not care that you didn’t see them for an entire summer.
But you want to make sure I don’t do more than my fair share of the emotional parenting.
I guess I need to move on. I mean, it’s been a couple years since you abused my love, my trust, my safety, my emotions. Your children lived in a state of confusion as you gaslit all of us, and systematically eroded our self-esteem.
But you want to make sure that I’m doing what’s best for the kids.
Always have, always am, always will.