Eye-Opening Moments Podcast

The Red Flags (and more)

February 06, 2024 Emily Kay Tan Episode 106
Eye-Opening Moments Podcast
The Red Flags (and more)
Eye-Opening Moments Podcast +
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Eye-Opening Moments are real-life stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. In this episode you will hear about The Red Flags  and How Will You Remember Me?


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Hello and welcome to episode #106 of Eye-Opening Moments where you’ll hear stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. They are moments that can lift your spirits, give you some food for thought, or move you. For the introspective mind that likes to reflect, discover, and find solutions or meaning in a complex life, this is for you. I’m your host Emily Kay Tan. . In this episode, you will hear about The Red Flags and How Will You Remember Me.

The Red Flags
Marriage is supposed to be a happy event, or so I thought. Some red flags told me to stop the wedding, but I went through with it anyway. Was I trying to save myself from embarrassment since I announced I would get married? Did I think I could not get what I wanted in a man and just settled for the one I had before me? Did I think I was doing the right thing to marry a man with a stable career and a nice family? It was probably a combination of all those things, but did I make the right decision?

When Anson asked me to marry him, I laughed out loud. He said you didn’t answer me. I said, “You are not serious because if you were, you would buy me a ring.” You see, I had marriage proposals before, and none proposed with a ring, and I didn’t get married, so a proposal was just a proposal to me without a follow-through. Anson was the first to say, “Okay, let’s go get it now!” I was in disbelief that this one proceeded with a trip to the jeweler, and I got to pick my wedding diamond. With joy, I got engaged that day.

Our engagement was the beginning of the descent in our relationship. Everything before that was like young love and happiness. It all started when he went home and told his mom. She was angry that it happened without her permission. And her son was thirty-five years old! Anson returned to inform me that his mom was unhappy, so we needed to delay any discussion of our wedding plans until she calmed down. I was infuriated. It was not because the wedding plans would be derailed or my future mother-in-law wanted permission. It was because I was appalled that Anson left the decision of what he would do for his future in the hands of his mom or anyone for that matter. Did I want to marry someone who still had apron strings attached to him? No!

Anson had long bought a house next door to his mom because when it was on the market, his parents told him it would be a good investment and that he could live there when he married. The house stood vacant until I came along nearly ten years later. After we got engaged, Anson started remodeling many things in the home and asked that I help. This was where I learned many negative aspects of Anson’s personality. He was an extreme perfectionist; no one could live up to his expectations. He was a handyman who detested hiring contractors because he didn’t think they could complete any task to meet his expectations. 

Anson wouldn’t yell at the hired help, but he would scream at me for an imperfect job done. I was never a handywoman and could not enjoy the tasks at hand with his constant criticism. One day, I couldn’t take it any longer. I had tried my best, but my best was not good enough for him. He even moaned about any hired help not doing a good job. His demeaning and discouraging words brought me to tears. I did not know how to do the job any better. Luckily, I was not married to him; I ran out and took a bus home to my apartment. When I arrived, Anson had driven to my house and arrived before I did. He apologized, but he had shaken me. I should’ve called off the engagement, but I didn’t. I tend to tolerate many things and always hope for better days; that was my flaw. If something went wrong, I could always return home, but where would I go if I were married? It was a scary thought, and I ignored another red flag.

I had sent wedding invitations out. Anson’s mom was still angry. My relatives were coming to town, and I hadn’t seen them for many years. Everything was moving forward. I was exhausted and stressed. I wanted to get it over with. Yes, I just wanted to get the wedding over with; I couldn’t even enjoy the honeymoon. I wanted that to be over with, too. More red flags went up, and I wondered if I could live happily ever after. 

Married, I didn’t know there would be things ahead of me that I never imagined as a part of the package. I invited friends over to see my new home after work. It would only be a quick visit. I shared about it with Hubby over dinner, and he was infuriated that I did not ask for permission. I didn’t know I had to ask for permission. I went shopping with my youngest sister and bought a red dress with white polka dots; it was rare for me to buy a dress, and I rarely had a chance to go shopping with my sister. I told Anson I went shopping with my sister and bought a dress. Again, he was furious that I did not ask permission. I thought I earned my own money and could afford it, so why did I need permission like a child? I had been financially independent for thirteen years before I married him and never had a need to ask anyone for approval to do anything. I didn’t know marriage required all these permissions. Married life was not to my liking.

Soon, I saw the monster in Anson. He had an explosive temper I never experienced until after marriage. Whenever he didn’t like something I did, such as dropping a glue drop on the table or smudging on a doorknob from wrapping paper with dye, he would be enraged. Anson would scream at me for two hours. Nothing could stop him. If I said nothing, he would be furious with my facial expression and argue with me if I said something. Either way, he needed to go on for two hours until he was satisfied. How he could yell for two hours was beyond comprehension.

While he did this many times, he gradually broke me down. I told him he was making me love him less and less. I don’t think I had any love left for a man who could not accept that I had different points of view from him and disrespected me by demeaning me and trying to control me. 

Many have asked why I endured for seven years. I thought myself a strong person to have done so, but it was more than that. I tried to make it work. I asked his brother for help to understand Anson’s way of being and hoped he had suggestions for me, but he didn’t. I asked male friends for help, and they didn’t have suggestions either. Anson’s parents offered me a place to stay until Anson cooled off. They knew Anson’s temper and said I could temporarily stay with them if it scared me. 

My in-laws were kind to me but could only give me a temporary safe haven. I decided to see how to improve myself to align with Anson’s needs. I signed up for a personal development course. Working on myself was never an issue. I always wanted more ideas or ways to better myself. Divorce was not an option because I thought it meant failure, and I could not accept it. 

After the course, I came to a conclusion that I never thought I would make. I looked at all the red flags I had wanted to ignore. I decided to file for divorce. My happiness and freedom were more important. My self-worth was more crucial to my well-being.

I endured because I was not as strong as I thought I was. I tolerated it because I did not know what else to do. I was in denial that we were not a good match. I tried to make something work that would not work. Perhaps, during the course, I found myself again. The little girl that dreamed of a happily ever after didn’t get it. She needed to muster up the courage and stand up for herself, for the right to happiness and freedom. She remembered her self-worth was only as good as what she gave herself. Her husband didn’t have a right to take it away. He didn’t; she had allowed him to take some away from her. With that realization, she filed for divorce speedily. She grabbed the powers that were in her hands and did not give them out anymore. 

Freedom and joy appeared. It was exhilarating. I went to a car wash to get my car washed. After a hard day at work, I was too tired to cook and grabbed a take-out order. I could stay late at work to finish marking papers or bring them home to finish up. Those were simple things I could not do when I was married. Married to Anson, I had to wash my car every single time without going to the car wash every now and then. I had to cook a dinner complete with a vegetable dish, a meat dish, rice, and soup daily. Eating out was not an option unless my in-laws invited us out. I could not bring any work home to finish, but I went to work earlier to get everything done because I had much to do. 

I no longer had to walk on eggshells for fear of when Anson would explode into a rampage of screaming at me for two hours at a time. My parents, grandparents, or bosses never yelled at me, but my ex-husband did. It was hard to bear, and I was most thankful when it all ended.

Some people call divorce difficult, and it was for me. But when we signed the final papers, I was done with him. Freedom never tasted so sweet. I could finally relax and be myself without being monitored or controlled. Living in a minefield was no laughing matter. 

Sitting here writing and recalling marriage to Anson, I remember how precious freedom is.

On weekends, I wake up whenever I want. I don’t have Anson demanding that I awake by 7 a.m. on Saturday or Sunday. I lay in bed enjoying the freedom to lay there with no demands on me except myself. I have a quick breakfast without having to make a large breakfast at the order of Anson. I write my stories; I get to do what I want and enjoy my writing passion without Anson, who could harp at me for not attending to his needs or keeping him company to do whatever he wanted. If we needed to do some grocery shopping or any other errands, I had to go when Anson wanted. Now I can go whenever I want. Freedom is delicious. I can’t have enough of it!

Freedom is essential for this independent girl, whether married or divorced. Of course, we have responsibilities, but we also need to do as we wish without being controlled by anyone. It is one essential key to happiness. As Patrick Henry famously said, “…give me liberty or give me death.” Indeed, when you don’t have freedom, you could feel like you are dying or find no meaning in life without it. As it turned out, my divorce gave me the ticket to move forward to a better life with courage and power in my hands to do as I wish. Never let anyone take away your freedom. 

How Will You Remember Me?
I want to know how I will be remembered when I die. It is twenty-plus years from now, but I am already preparing for that day. Why? Before that day arrives, I need to have lived a full life. Having done so, I can rest in peace or die with a smile on my face. Whoever will speak for my eulogy will have something nice to say because speaking ill of the dead is impolite. I want to leave a mark. I want to know that my life has meaning. You may not know me, and even people I know may not honestly know me, but I will leave something behind to show you who I am.

Misunderstood, or perhaps because I didn't always express my voice, you didn't know me. Maybe, because you never walked in my shoes, you never felt my pain and sorrow. Perhaps you don't know my accomplishments and happy times because I didn't get a chance to share them with you. No matter, I have found a way to share it with anyone willing to hear or learn about this unique life of mine. 

I am not famous, but I am someone like you who has all the gamut of feelings humans experience. My younger sister once told me she shared her pain with me because I knew pain, while our older sister had no inkling of it. Maybe we connected through pain. After a devastating breakup, I realized that connecting with people gives us life. I want to communicate with you because I want to live. I want to do more than breathe, go to work, run errands, and complete chores and tasks.

You will know me through my stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives. My stories of hardships show that I have cycled through many challenges and difficulties but managed to overcome them. It is through the process or journey that you will know my character. For the special people I encountered, you will know I learned from others, gained insights, and found gratitude. Developing, creating, or discovering different perspectives saved me from a life of misery and gave me hope for better days. Sharing my stories was initially self-therapy but later turned into food for thought and then the hope that I could provide others with hope. 

Courage, tenacity, resilience, determination, creativity, and adaptability all combined to help me overcome challenges, find relief from grief, find calm from conflict, and progress from stress. They also brought me out of my comfort zone to jump into daring and thrilling adventures. You will know all the details by reading the chapters in my books or listening to my podcast episodes. My words and my voice are what I will leave behind to give others hope to triumph. 

Key Takeaways: Though I saw the red flags, I ignored them, but I came to find the courage to face them and resolve the problems.

Though it may sound morbid to anticipate death, it is reassuring to start living life fully, so I would die smiling.

Next week, you will hear about two real-life stories called From One Breakup to Another and The Stupid People. If you enjoyed this episode of Eye-Opening Moments, please share it with others, support the show by clicking on the link in the description, or go to www.inspiremereads.com and leave a message. Thank you for listening!

 

 

 

 

Introduction
The Red Flags
How Will You Remember Me
Key Takeaways