Costume Parade


What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas; but what happens around here sure does get around fast! unknown

One of the best things about living in a small community is the community events that bring everyone together. One of the worst things about living in a small community is when that community consists of my cheating ex and her.

Tonight, there was a free concert in the park along with a costume contest for the adults and a costume parade for the kids.  I love to attend these local events where I can park my lawn chair on the grass and listen to the music under the stars. All week, I felt comfortable and confident going except when it occurred to me that M & her might be there. What would I say? What would I do? Why wouldn’t they feel comfortable being out in public together now? — Now that the divorce is final and their actions can be “justified” (blech, my stomach lurches at the memory of their excuses.)

I contemplated not going. Although, this year my costume was perfect — I was going as the Jilted Wife. It didn’t require any special make-up or special effects, no fancy accessories… I looked just like the girl next door, the lady down the street, the woman shopping in the store–the “every woman” because it can happen to any of us and the more people that hear my story, the more they share a similar one and I see exactly how we are the “every woman.”

It occurred to me that even outside of October, the “masks,” much like the labels we all seem to known by were forced upon us. I am known as the WS* or a BS (Wounded Spouse/Betrayed Spouse);  M is the US (Unfaithful Spouse/*also WS for Wayward Spouse as noted in the comments below) or as I like to call him, an asshole; she is the AP/OW (Affair Partner/Other Woman) but please know I use the word “woman” loosely–hmm…. just like she was for my husband <sigh>.  Yes, they are the labels that we “assume” on D-Day (Discovery Day) but only we can decide if they define us.  I have decided that I don’t like my label as the Wounded Spouse… I much prefer fighter, survivor, stronger.

The music was great and the costumes hilarious and in the end, they didn’t come. But it took me some time to let myself relax and just enjoy the music. The truth is that I am going to run into them, its inevitable, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do or say, if anything.

I’d like to think that I will hold my head up high, not let them see me shed a tear, and confidently stand or simply exist showing them that they did not break me.

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