How I Got Here

I wasn’t always into the “woo woo.”

It’s actually very new for me. A few months ago, I didn’t even know what a “tower moment” meant or represented. That it embodied chaos, disaster, loss, tragedy, abuse, confusion, pain, revelations, divorce… I could go on. But that’s where we’ve landed.

I turned a fun Halloween costume of a tarot reader—because we were in New Orleans, and I was trying to use up the baby teeth I had collected for the last 10 years—into a major arcana moment of my life.

Here I was with my bestie, staying at the Roosevelt Hotel (highly recommend) for a fun girls’ weekend, drinking bubbly and giggling about the new tarot deck I brought along.

I originally planned to bring my Magic 8 Ball—not the traditional black-and-white ball, but a Trolls-themed, glittery purple one, with answers such as THE BOP ON TOP YES!, SOON STAY POPTIMISTIC, or NEGATIVO CAPITAL NOPE—but went with only carry-on luggage and didn’t want to explain to TSA that yes, it was filled with liquid, but I was pretty sure it was under the legal limit…Why I had a Trolls Magic 8 Ball at all…Or why I had a string of baby teeth. So please don’t search my luggage!!!

But I digress.

I love to travel, and now know it was probably also a way to escape my reality and start a much-needed chain reaction.

My tower moment.

We decided to do a reading before we headed out. I read the instructions and drew the cards for a past, present, and future spread. I don’t remember what the cards were specifically, but they really hit home. Scarily so.

We did it again for my friend, and it seemed pretty dang accurate for her too. We laughed while my phone eerily listened to us and changed my Reels algorithm accordingly.

Now, instead of DIY crafts, travel tips, or how to unclutter my entryway, my doom-scrolling Reels became tarot readers. Some serious, some parody readings that had me laughing, and some light self-help. Slightly deeper than a good motivational quote.

As the self-help people started to make sense, I started watching those longer and longer. You know how it goes. They were trying to empower the viewer, and it was working.

Many were defining terms I had heard many times but didn’t think applied to me in these specific ways.

Abuse. Manipulation. Coercion. Codependency.

All things I started discussing with my therapist, who suggested a book she felt might help: Facing Codependence by Pia Mellody.

I always thought codependence meant literally relying on one another. It does, but it also means much more.

I listened to it on Audible every time I got in my car (alone, because I didn’t want people to know I was crazy). Hearing how they described certain situations was enlightening. Hearing how they described cycles of generational trauma as codependence—and how recovering from it requires something of an AA 10-step approach and continued practice—shook me.

I realized I was codependent.

My husband was codependent.

If we didn’t change things, and quickly, our teenagers could also become codependent.

That really hit home.

By all accounts, we were successful and living the dream. But deep down, now with a better understanding of codependency, I realized all was not right in the world.

I wanted to do better. To be better. To heal—and help my husband realize that he needed to heal too.

Skiirrrrttt.

That’s when the plans derailed.

I discussed some of my therapy with my husband and how much this book had changed my perspective. He said that in his short stint in therapy (my words), they had discussed this briefly too. He had read one (whole!) article on it, and he could see “somewhat of a correlation.”

What he described was mostly our parents, me, and others.

Nothing to do with him.

I was pretty shocked.

How could he not see that he was literally repeating the same patterns—and that they were not something to brag about?

I asked him to read the book. He scoffed and told me he didn’t appreciate me assigning him homework.

I said that he needed to read it to understand who we were and why I could no longer choose to remain the same person, nor stay with a person who was not going to choose to heal with me.

He said he would read it, but only because I was “forcing him.”

I checked in with him every once in a while. He finally ordered it and said he had read a few pages.

I waited.

Waited some more.

I brought it up again and explained how important it was to me, which created a bit of hostility.

I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to be better.

I suggested that we should probably see a couples therapist and discuss it together.

He agreed!

I waited longer.

Meanwhile, my Reels started explaining something else over and over.

Narcissism.

Again, I didn’t pay attention at first. I thought I understood the term. But then things started jumping out at me, and I started to understand more and more.

I was married to a codependent narcissist.

Now, I’m no therapist and can’t diagnose anyone, but…

“People with this disorder may lack the ability to understand or care about the feelings of others.”

CHECK.

“But behind this mask of extreme confidence, they are not sure of their self-worth and are easily upset by the slightest criticism.”

CHECK. CHECK.

OH. HE’S SEEING MY DISCUSSION OF CODEPENDENCY AS CRITICISM.

Maybe he just needs me to explain it in a different way?!

Surely then he will understand and want to change.

In some very heavy conversations, trying to connect with him—and connect the dots for him—I brought up that even though he couldn’t possibly be doing it on purpose, because he stated that he loved me so much, his codependent actions were actually kind of abusive.

To me.

His wife.

Making him one of my abusers.

Long pause while I cried a bit and pulled myself together.

His response was to tell me to look in a mirror.

He became enraged that I would accuse him of such things.

He took this as the biggest criticism of them all, and instead of seeing the error of his ways and apologizing to me, his wife, whom he claimed to love so much, he threw a temper tantrum.

And suddenly, all those Reels made a whole lot more sense.

I felt like I was watching a movie after that.

My eyes were opened to so many other ways in which he showed those tendencies. I wasn’t only being hurt by him. I was actively being controlled and manipulated.

I was 45 and had an allowance.

We made over $300K as a household, but we were always “broke” according to him because I spent too much.

He didn’t want to research more because he didn’t want his cover blown.

He didn’t want to change.

He wasn’t the problem!!!

Ugh.

After six months of asking him to do this for me, I realized he would never make that choice.

So I asked for a divorce.

He was flabbergasted.

Like it came out of nowhere.

He “didn’t realize he was on a timeline!”

Everything he did and said afterward proved to me why this was the right choice.

If not to break the cycle, then at minimum to show my daughters that this was not okay. That I loved myself enough to recognize I deserved better.

I want to model a relationship that they should expect in the future.

How had I not seen this all along?

Because my husband was a ninja-level master manipulator.

When he sensed I was onto him, he would love-bomb me, completely change for a time, and make me think I was crazy for doubting him—or his love.

The more you know, I guess…

So you should know the signs too.

As you read these, please know that now, looking back, I should have realized they were all clear signs of abuse.

But they were done in such a way that I would question whether they even really happened the way I remembered them.

Arguments were always switched around to make me feel at fault, even if I was just voicing my feelings.

How dare I?

I was made to feel as if I would never survive on my own.

I wasn’t enough.

I needed him.

Because his ego told him that I needed him.

Even now, as we navigate the divorce process, I can still see him waiting for me to fail without him.

I realize I was just his “supply” all along.