The Aftermath Part 1
A three-part series in which I confront the question - Am I Happy?
Recently, a friend inadvertently asked if I was happy. It was actually less of a question and more of a statement that she wanted to read that I was happy. I needed to think about this because the aftermath of ending my narcissistic abusive relationship is happening in real time, and with a surprise twist that happened in the summer of 2023. The truth is that you need the back story of this summer to understand how I got to where I am today. So as much as I hate to make a long story even longer, I have to ask you to buckle in.
I am writing this piece from Ningbo, China. Never heard of it? Don’t worry. Not many people have. I’m writing from the fourth floor of my VERY Chinese for profit kindergarten where I teach 3 year-olds (not my favorite grade band). I’m making 2000 American dollars less a month, despite having an M.Ed and teaching license, at a job I hate in a not so foreigner friendly city that I moved to without knowing a single soul. Dear Reader, you may be wondering, Why Lori? Why would you do that? It’s a fair question that this backstory will answer. So apologies for the diversion, but I promise you, we’ll get to happy later.
I am not ashamed to admit that part of what made leaving Him so easy (as if gaslighting and blame shifting didn’t make it easy enough) was that an ex-boyfriend walked back into my life shortly after the first (and only) time Him got physically violent with me (if you’re not familiar with who Him is, see my post Let’s Start at the Ending here). That’s when I decided I was out. What I didn’t know is that Mac was, to quote the great Taylor Swift, “a nightmare dressed up like a daydream.” We were 19 years-old when we dated, but really, he loved me from when we were 13. When Mac found out that my relationship wasn’t what I depicted on social media, he confessed that he and his wife of 15 years, A, got divorced. I hadn’t known this because Mac and A completely walked out of my life after the wedding, and why? Mac’s truth was that he never stopped loving me, and so to make his marriage work, he cut me out. My truth is Mac is the last man who really treated me with respect and dignity. We broke up all those years ago because I was young and dumb and my soul craved for something more than Mac could give. All these years later, with both of our hearts free once again, we made plans to become Mac and Lori 2.0, and we did, on July 2, 2023 as soon as I left my Shanghai apartment and was en route back to America for the summer.
When I revealed to Mac the ugly truth of my abuse, the tumultuousness of my breakup, and my plan about whether or not to return to Shanghai, he told me to come and live with him in Vegas. We contemplated a future if I went back to Shanghai, and a future in which I didn’t. Mac is a wickedly successful business owner, and what he was offering was a situation in which I could live with expenses covered…in his exclusive $6000 a month condo with the two balconies and 360 degree view of the Las Vegas strip and Vegas Valley - while I found my feet again. If you are thinking it almost sounds too good to be true - dear Reader, you aren’t wrong, and somewhere deep in my soul, I knew it. Perhaps that’s why, instead of putting all of my eggs in the Mac basket, I reached out to an educational recruiter on LinkedIn and interviewed with a school in Ningbo, China the week before I was to be in Vegas. There’s something about having one or twelve contingency plans that makes me feel safe. The Ningbo school immediately offered me a contract with a much lower salary than I had become accustomed to. Be that as it may, I wanted to wait and see how things went in Vegas before I made a decision (read: I wanted Mac to make the decision for me and tell me not to take the offer).
I’m in Seattle getting ready to board my flight to Las Vegas. I wholeheartedly believe I am about to begin a new life with the adult version of the only Canarsie kid I ever really loved back when I was young and impulsive. Mac seemed ready to embrace adult Me as well. Three hours later, I land at what is now called Harry Reid International Airport. I always knew it as McCarran Airport when I called Vegas home while attending graduate school, but such details aren’t important. Worthy to note is that I move through the familiarity with a pounding in my heart that thumps louder than the slot machines, muffled announcements, and endless chatter happening all around me. My palms are moist in the 110 degree Vegas heat, yet the baby hairs on my tatted arms stand straight up. As for my throat, well I have suddenly and without warning either inadvertently swallowed a frog or I am going into anaphylactic shock. A more likely explanation is I am nervous as hell to see Mac. I can’t stop the endless questions that rush into my head like tsunami waves rushing onto an island coast. My mind is overtaken. Will he kiss me the moment he sees me? Would I recognize my badass Brooklyn boy when I see, hear, and smell him? How has 15 years in the desert changed him? How has seven years in China changed me? Could we really come back together, and would 2.0 really work? These questions are racing through my brain, but undoubtedly, the most pressing question on my mind is:
Am I really ready to move back to America?
To be continued…..