The gravity of my emotions was absolutely insufferable, so I decided to duck and hide somewhere safe. I decided to become a lesbian. I know, could I have been any more cliche? Jilted wife seeks love, support, affection and friendship from the “safer” sex. But, for me, the male species and his anatomy had become metaphors for all things emotionally dangerous, loathsome and untrustworthy. Who needed a big strong shoulder to cry on? I craved pure estrogen!
I felt like the living embodiment of every negative feeling you could think of. Humiliated. Disrespected. Resentful. Worthless. Abandoned. Insecure. Frightened. Suspicious. Untrusting. Guarded. Insignificant. Unloved. Misled. Hurt. Add to that an endless cycle of sadness which turned to anger which turned to hatred and dissatisfaction with everyone, everything, every situation and every experience. How disemboweling to finally arrive at a place of forgiveness only to find out that the depth of deceit ran far deeper than a drunken 1-night stand.
I knew the best remedy for my Post Marital Stress Disorder would be performing. So I was super-excited for my first day of rehearsal at my new gig. It was a full decade later (add infatuation, love, marriage and divorce) that I was walking back into the same exact dressing room that housed so many memories.
