Things I Wish I Had Said

On balance, throughout my life, I have left unsaid a darn sight more than I have said that I shouldn't have. For example, the very first words my first ex-mother-in-law said to me were an insult. I said nothing in return so as to not rock the boat. This, I now very much regret.

For a start, me saying nothing was effectively giving her the green light to say whatever nastiness that came into her tiny little mind, any time she felt like it. Perhaps if I had responded along the lines that what she had said was not very nice and totally unacceptable, things might have turned out differently further down the line.

I simply failed to set limits. And thinking about this now makes me realize that, not for the first time, I was in fact, being complicit in the multitude of egregiously abusive acts against me that followed.

I learned a very long time ago that what people say about you always says a lot more about them than it says about you. And what my mother-in-law's insults told me was that here was a woman who had never ever achieved anything meaningful in her life, which made her feel inferior and insecure. And what that did was make her try to pull others down in order to put herself up. It was the only way in which she could find some feeling of superiority.

Sadly, this type of treatment from this woman was all too frequent during the entirety of my marriage to her daughter, from those very first venomous words to the very last spiteful sentences emanating from that appalling woman's mouth, that I last had to endure at the end of my marriage.

Zooming out from this view of marital bliss, to take a wider view of my past history of personal interactions, I have come to recognize that one of my many faults has been to suffer fools gladly. What I lacked was what is called assertiveness, born out of an almost total lack of self-confidence from my early childhood.

I simply never had the courage to defend myself, to say no, that is unacceptable. And the reason for that was that I was fearful of any disagreeable consequences, like a big fat punch on the nose. I felt overwhelmingly intimidated by life in general and by my elder siblings, school colleagues, and school teachers, all with good reason.

I was born and brought up in a physically violent environment, at home as well as outside in the streets and at school. And a big fat punch on the nose, and a great deal worse, and far more painful, life-threatening even, was all too common. In order to survive then, I tried to avoid any sort of confrontation, or in many cases to even avoid any type of contact at all.

I tried to be the invisible man, to blend in and go unnoticed. I tried so hard to not stand out and I succeeded to the extent that I missed out on a great many good things. It took me a good many years to recover from that survival strategy and enjoy the normal life that so many people took for granted.

However, whilst I did finally have the courage to come out of my shell, I continue to strive to avoid conflict. I will still turn around and walk away from any disagreeable contact, whichever quarter it comes from.

As for things I might wish I hadn't said, well yes, just the one time. Thirteen years ago my two daughters visited me with a friend of my eldest daughter. I should have known better than to tangle, even unwittingly, with three girls. It was ten days of hard work and treading gingerly on eggshells.

In an attempt to get a laugh at my expense in front of their friend, my two daughters made insulting, disparaging comments about me. They took a perfectly innocent remark I made and twisted it to try to make me look like some sort of sexual pervert. To add insult to injury, they compared me to their untruthful and unfaithful mother, who they seem to believe can do no wrong. My reaction was delayed until we got back home from a pizzeria we had been to for lunch.

Back at home, in private, I told my two daughters in no uncertain terms that the comments they had made about me were totally unacceptable. And their highly unfavorable comparison of me with their less-than-snow-white mother was so insulting, it beggared belief.

That telling-off did not go down at all well. In fact, my two daughters have not spoken a word to me since that time. And despite my best efforts to pour oil on troubled waters, they have declined to have any more contact with me ever again.

What my two daughters' attitude toward me also did was embolden their friend to have a go at me as well. This girl very much reminded me of my nasty mother-in-law. The girl once asked me how long it had taken me to learn to Speak Spanish as fluently as I did and I said it took me about a year.

"Oh well, in that case, we would probably do it in a month or two," she replied sarcastically, condescendingly, triumphantly even.

I thought OMG, here I am with yet another underachiever with an inferiority complex, just like my ex-mother-in-law, trying to put me down to put herself up.

I tried to politely explain that it was not that simple to learn to speak a foreign language fluently and it would take her just as long as it took me, but all I got back was "Is that coz I is woman?" So now she was accusing me, in her choice of words and tone of voice, of being sexist and patronizing.

In a quieter moment, I did inform my eldest daughter that I was not at all impressed with her friend's lack of manners and attitude toward me. My daughter leaped to the girl's defense saying that it was all my fault and that I had encouraged the girl's behavior with my openness, hospitality, and friendly familiarity. This was a clear, classic case of victim blaming and I had no answer to that accusation.

All I can say now is that it would appear I was at fault for being a decent person, and that I deserved to be punished for my well-intentioned way to be. Not for the first time, I hear a voice in my head saying "No favor goes unpunished."

To make matters worse, not once did my daughters or their friend express any gratitude for my hospitality, running them around town and to the coast, cooking them meals, and cleaning up after them. Not a single thank you from any of them.

So, the question remains; is it better to take those slings and arrows and suffer in silence, or should we speak up and assert ourselves? I'm afraid it's almost always, never black and white. Sometimes you are damned if you do and damned if you don't.

One could argue that to not assertively react is, in the immediate moment after the act, a more peaceful option. On the other hand, this could well lead to a less peaceful life in the long run.