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October 7, 2018 10:27 pm  #1

My therapist told me to write a letter

My therapist suggested I write a letter to my ex. Not to send it, just to get some feeling out. I don't want to feel like I'm drowning anymore. So here it is-

You suck.  Every single thing about our relationship was a lie. You used me every day of our ‘marriage’ and blamed me for your unhappiness. You were horrible to me because you could be, and you knew I had no way of getting out. You used my naivete against me and forced me to do things I didn’t want to do because you said I was boring and too vanilla for you, after four children. You should have said, ‘I’ll never want to look at you until you have a penis.’ That would have saved me a lot of lifespan. Instead, you decided to do what you thought ‘society’ demands, and spent years trying to convince me that I was too needy, crazy, critical, angry, stupid, histrionic, paranoid, frigid, and ridiculous so you could search for men online and parade around grocery stores dressed like your mother, flashing your underwear at unsuspecting men for shock value while I tended the children at home.

The thought of you wearing a wig that looks like my hair makes me want to vomit. I know you’re still looking for men, even though you live with a woman who has no idea who you really are. I know you dress like your version of a porn star and masturbate on camera, because I’ve seen your videos posted to trans porn sites. You’re 'performing' on the same couch my kids sit on when they go to your house. I’ve seen the pictures you took of you at a store, in the dressing room dressed like a woman, trying on clothes. You’re not a woman. I think about the jobs you got fired from, for being ‘inappropriate’ with girls, and even though you try to convince me your bosses were crazy, I know you it was your fault, and you probably did a lot more than that, because people like you never stop.
Now our children have to see your fat self shoved into a bra and whatever else you just ‘have’ to put on. You’re delusional and you look like a weirdo. Their discomfort and confusion doesn’t stop you from forcing our children to go out in public with you. It’s abusive to them to have to look at you like you are now. You can dress however you want, but you can’t force other people to like it and that pisses you off. One day the kids will realize that you don’t really want to be a woman. You don’t want to care endlessly for your children, always putting yourself last, caring for the home and meeting the needs of a house full of people. No. You want to be a farce of a woman, exaggerated and obscene, and you want to somehow find a man that will believe your delusion. Good luck. I’d feel sorry for your girlfriend but she hates my ‘hostile’ self. How can she raise her child in your house? What is wrong with her? What is wrong with you? Seriously, what is wrong with you?
If you were a pie chart, there would be maybe 3% of you that is still a decent human being. You didn’t change, you just stopped pretending that you weren’t an uncaring narcissist who would prefer me dead. You blame every perceived fault of the children’s on my bad parenting. Somehow you convinced yourself that I am incapable of raising a child, and that your vast knowledge and experience makes you such a superior parent. You never wanted the children. Every excuse about having to work was just cover for ‘I don’t care. Go away.’ You treated the children and me like annoyances. Like we didn’t exist so you didn’t have to deal with us or be a parent or husband. You don’t deserve any time with them.  
It makes me sad that we probably had a marriage, or a semblance of one, at one time. At least closer to real than how it was at the end. You had so much time to make different choices, yet you didn’t. Why? I grieve for the marriage I thought I had at the beginning, back when you actually liked me, or rather, found me useful. Sometimes I think I’ve damaged my own heart because it hurt so much, physically hurt, during the divorce. I think about the nature of grief, and how I and the children are looking at a lifetime of it, while you think of no one but yourself and your ‘medical problem.’ The children are depressed and confused now, but you probably just think that’s more evidence of my bad parenting, nothing to do with their father  forcing them to participate in his fetish.
I kept quiet while your family believed every lie you fed them about me after you left to go ‘kill yourself.’ I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d married a person like you, or that the children’s father was an abusive autogynephiliac who’d lost his mind. I kept quiet when they found out the truth and still, amazingly, blamed me. And you let them. The whole world is against you. It has nothing to do with your blanket hatred of people, or your sarcasm and unkindness. The way you treat other people is disgusting.
You should have had enough integrity to not pursue me, or ask me to marry you. You should have stopped ridiculing me, in so many small ways, for being female. You should have acted like a husband and father. I gave you so many free passes it makes me sick to think about. You used me. And you’re proud of it. You’re a jerk, a bully, and a monstrous human being.
No, it’s not ‘just clothes.’ If it were, it wouldn’t make most people sick to their stomach to look at you. Why can’t you make it easier on the children? A real parent would. Only you always put yourself first. Always. Here’s what I did for our children: Got them away from you. Found them a better father. Made them a happy life, despite you being in it. I know their favorite cereals. You don’t. I know whose clothes are whose in a laundry basket. You never folded their clothes. Not once. You never dressed them, brushed their hair, cut their nails, emptied their backpacks, read stories to them, helped them brush their teeth. None if it. You suck. And I still feel sorry for you. I could tell you the particular shade of blue of the children’s eyes. You can’t. I’ve gone hungry for them. I’ve waited until they were done eating and scraped the leftovers on their plates together for my meal. You’ve never eaten leftovers. You think you deserve better because you’re you. And you have never gone hungry.
I’m left with the never-ending ramifications of your selfishness. I’m tired. I’m sick of you and your problems. The children will eventually see through you. Then you can yell and scream all you want about the unfairness of life. No one will care. You’ve worn us out already. No one will make an effort for someone who's spent a lifetime using other people. 

Last edited by mynameisnotsociety (October 7, 2018 10:32 pm)


October 7, 2018 11:39 pm  #2

Re: My therapist told me to write a letter

Wow!  Even after all of these years, I can relate to the gut cutting intensity (and a good deal of the actual feelings) of what you have written.  This inspires me to maybe write it all out too, once and for all.  I never have written it all down, as I thought it would just be too painful, no matter how therapeutic.  Taking a new look.

I am so sorry for your situation, think that what you have done here took a lot of courage, and wish you and your children the absolute best for the future.

"Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!" - Sir Walter Scott

October 8, 2018 7:18 am  #3

Re: My therapist told me to write a letter

Oh, myname,
    So much of what you've written rings true to my experience, too.  What a powerful piece you've written, and how accurately you've pinpointed the narcissism and delusions that characterize those who revel in their autogynephilic delusions and blame others for all their problems rather than see their condition as an impediment to real intimacy.  "A farce of a woman, exaggerated and obscene": pithy and devastatingly accurate.  Thank you for speaking for me, too.
  I hope that your work with your therapist will help you to find a way to live with what was, is, and will continue to be a provocation to rage.  In practical terms, I hope you have already discovered one of the parenting software packages that will allow you to communicate as much as possible with your ex online only ("our family wizard" is one such).  I find that the less contact I have with my stbx the better (this includes his social media, too) for my mental and physical health.


October 8, 2018 12:19 pm  #4

Re: My therapist told me to write a letter

Mynameisnotsociety that was very powerful.  I’ve also been told to write a letter but haven’t yet although half my journal is written to my STBX.  I feel so much of the same way towards my cross dressing now gender dysphoric STBX.  We have 4 kids also and he’s wanting to reveal everything to them so he doesn’t have to hide.  As a parent it’s not about yourself and I have always made that sacrifice as well, but he has not.  It always seems they twist our choices and fault us somehow, that we don’t “accept” them or love them.  It’s because we don’t want to turn into even more of a shell of a person than they have already made us. 

Your “It’s just clothes” struck such a chord with me as I was fed that line for months.  I’m wondering if your kids talk to you about how uncomfortable they are at dads?  Do they stay overnight?  With 4 kids that are 17 and under I worry so much for them!  He’s already told me it doesn’t matter how they feel or what they want he still gets to see them. 

I’m glad you found happiness outside of your ex, hopefully we can all have that someday.  As society does become more “accepting” though I’m sure there will be more of us wives left in the dust for personal agendas.

Last edited by KitKat (October 8, 2018 12:23 pm)


October 9, 2018 1:48 pm  #5

Re: My therapist told me to write a letter

You said it all.


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