Schema, perspective, experience, understanding… wow.
My younger son and I differ in many beautiful ways, and some difficult ones, and he’s a great teacher for me. When I broke up with Greg, he asked why I was ever with him — not because Greg wasn’t good, but because he saw how unlikely we were.
In the months leading up to the breakup, I was in therapy several times a week and working out daily, which shifted my perspective. I realized I married my ex because the dynamic felt familiar, not connected — and that familiarity was toxic, especially once children were involved.
Then I chose Greg because he was completely unfamiliar in the best way. I knew he wouldn’t lie, punish, or betray me. And I hated myself for not feeling fully satisfied by that, because my old programming insisted that wanting more made me ungrateful or defective.
My therapist helped me understand that I’m allowed to want more than kindness, trust, and honesty — that those are essentials, not the whole picture. I’m allowed to want shared curiosity, spiritual seeking, political and social alignment, intellectual connection, a love of the beach and books. Not a clone of me, but someone compatible. Greg and I healed together for seven years, and still we both needed more than we could give each other.
This week I went for a haircut with a stylist I now recognize as unwell. Within minutes, my hair was destroyed. He jerked my head, cursed at me, raged about his ex‑wife, talked about porn addiction, meds, and sex, all while vaping, chewing nicotine gum, and taking a pill. When I asked him to be gentler, he snapped that he would if I “quit moving my goddamn head.” The misogyny escalated from there. And after wrecking my hair, he blocked the door and demanded a hug before letting me leave.
It was brutal — and familiar. The dynamic of someone who believes they are the law.
I’ll now pay a few hundred dollars to have a pro fix it, probably with a pixie cut. I became unwell as soon as I got home. My nervous system simply collapsed under the strain.
After hearing only part of it, my son asked why I didn’t just leave. Because he’d done a good job a year ago, I assumed he would again. And apparently I still believe that anything I want must be painful and costly. It didn’t even occur to me to walk out. The growth is that I calmly asked for gentleness. I said it out loud. And when he didn’t adjust, I still paid, overtipped, and let him hug me too long before leaving with ruined hair and $100 less.
I’ve cried over how I look, but even more over how far I’ve come and how far I still have to go — and also with gratitude that my children recognize their boundaries, rights, and worth. That is a miracle. I’ll keep learning, healing, and sharing, one day at a time.
