To Be a Priority

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Being someone who cares deeply and feels everything in a world where that's not the norm can be tough. What I really want is to be important to someone else.

I've never really been anyone's number one, not even to my own parents. I'm on my second marriage because I never felt loved or appreciated by my ex. He barely remembers most of the 8 years we spent together because he was hardly ever around, and when he was, he was glued to his phone, laptop, or the TV. Even though I know my current husband loves me, it often feels like it's more out of convenience. We've been together for 10 years, and I handle a lot. To him, I'm just the easy choice. I've spent most of our relationship asking him to make me a priority. He does for a few weeks, but then it's back to the same old routine. We've been through stuff that would break most couples, so I know he's in it for the long run. But do I really want to spend my life loving a guy who never makes me a priority?

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Spouses

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This morning really ticked me off, and honestly, he couldn’t care less. Can someone explain why you set 5 alarms starting around 6 am, but then don't actually get out of bed until almost 7:30, which is when you need to leave to be at work by 8? So now I'm wide awake, and he's gone back to sleep. I've lost count of how many times I've asked him to stop doing that, but as you can see, nothing's changed.

Over the past 10 years, I've opened up to him so many times. I know he's not big on words or emotions, but when someone pours their heart out to you and you just ignore it, it really wears you down. Especially when that someone is your spouse.

In the last couple of months, I've shared my feelings multiple times. I wrote him a really heartfelt letter for Christmas, and all I got was a "thanks for the letter." Just a few days ago, I poured my heart out again through text. He read it. That's it. The only time I feel like he actually "wants" me is when he's in the mood for sex. I've told him that so many times too. He says it's not true, but hasn't done anything to prove otherwise.

Valentine's Day is coming up. Last year, I got him some of his favorite snacks, put up a "be my valentine" sign, and gave him a heartfelt card. His response was basically, "Oh Yeah, it's Valentine's Day. Happy Valentine's, thanks for the stuff." That was it. Anniversaries are the same story. I don't get anything; it's just like any other day. Just this past Christmas, I got him a few things so he'd have something to unwrap too. When he saw the gifts, he just said, "Oh, you got me stuff." I ended up getting gifts through Amazon later, and my daughter ordered them. Honestly, I don't really care about gifts. They usually make me uncomfortable, probably because I'm not used to getting them. It's not about the gifts, though; it's about the thought behind them. A few years ago, he made me these really nice floating shelves for the bathroom, stained and everything. I've asked him several times to put them up, but they're still sitting in the garage. There are so many things I've asked him to do, and they just don't get done. When it comes to cleaning and cooking, that's mostly on me. Sometimes he'll clean and cook, maybe a couple of days a week he'll clean something. Cooking happens only when I ask, and then it's usually whatever he can find in the fridge or pantry, rarely anything healthy. I've tried telling him many times that cleaning and cooking are everyday tasks, unfortunately. Dishes pile up if I don't do them. The trash and recycling overflow if I don't take them out. If I ask, someone else might do it, but my kids will complain the whole time. My husband rarely does it. I've even pointed out how he'll just see it overflowing and add more on top without taking it out, but that hasn't changed.

One thing that really drives me nuts, and I've mentioned it more times than I can count, is that he never picks up after himself. He’s always on the kids about not cleaning up, but he’s just as bad. He leaves his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor or right next to the hamper by the bed. I’ll do the laundry, fold it, and put it on his side of the bed for him to put away, but he just moves it somewhere else, usually on the floor. I can never tell what's clean or dirty on his side, so I just avoid that area. He leaves his plates, bowls, and cups all over the place. Whenever I bring up the fact he rarely picks up after himself, he gets super defensive and says I do the same thing. Sure, sometimes I do, but that's because I'm exhausted from always cleaning up after everyone. No matter how many times I tell him and the kids to tidy up, it never happens. So, I either have to live with the mess or clean it myself, and both options are a pain.

He's really talented at woodworking, and a lot of our home's furniture is his handiwork. But finishing what he starts? Not so much. It took ages for him to finish our bed, even after I kept asking. Our kitchen had a big leak from the dishwasher years ago that wrecked half the place. Instead of hiring pros, he decided to tackle it himself, which took forever. Sadly, he still hasn't completed everything, so my kitchen is only half done. We've got mismatched countertops and cabinets—one side's blue and the other's white.

I often end up doing things myself because I ask him so many times and it never gets done. When I do take things into my own hands, I usually mess it up because I don't know what I'm doing. That's why I ask him in the first place. We all have our strengths, and there are things around the house I just expect him to handle. But if he won't do it, it's either on me or it stays undone. He's had to fix some of my attempts, yet he still hasn't figured out that if he'd done it in the first place, I wouldn't have had to try.

My love language is quality time and acts of service, neither of which I get from him. It's really tough on me. I've told him how I feel countless times over the past decade, but it seems to fall on deaf ears. He might change for a few weeks, but then it's back to the same old routine.

I'm pretty good at staying neutral and acting like things don't get to me, even when they do. Sometimes it's just better to keep the peace, especially if you know nothing's going to change. Most of the time, nobody really cares if something bothers me. That's a big reason why I started writing. My writings are the only ones that actually listen to me. I can say whatever I want without being interrupted or talked down to, or having someone get all defensive because of how I feel.

He works a lot, I get it. I work too, even if it's not as much as he does. But that doesn't change the fact that I have to handle most of the stuff at home, including things related to the kids. Signing them up for activities, handling appointments—that's all on me. He's good at taking the kids places and stuff. Our youngest is one of his biggest priorities. When I think about my husband's priorities, this is how I see it: our daughter, work, and his phone. Those are his top three priorities in life.

I know my kids need me, but that's definitely a different kind of need than what I need from someone.

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Family

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I've asked my family so many times to hang out with me during the holidays. Usually, they have other plans that I'm not part of. My aunt hosts a Christmas Eve dinner every year. She invited me once, and I think it was just because I was with my mom when she invited her. But every year, she invites her boyfriend's ex-wife to dinner (they've been together for over 30 years but just don't want to get married). My mom would rather spend the holidays with her friends in other states than with us. What really gets to me is when my mom has family get-togethers and leaves me out. It's happened a bunch of times. This year was the first time I actually spent a holiday with my family. I still feel like it wasn't because they wanted me there. It seemed more about them wanting my daughter there, or maybe my mom just asked me out of obligation because I was near her when she was talking about it. Who knows?

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Mother

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For years, my mom chose to hang out with my ex-husband and his wife instead of me. She literally prioritized them over me for two whole years. Funny thing is when I was married to him she rarely saw him. She even took me to court for visitation rights to see my kids, three out of four of whom she saw regularly through my ex. She was just doing it for my older kids out of spite. Before going to court, we had to do mediation sessions with my mom and ex-husband, and then another one with my mom and my current husband. The things my mom said to me during those sessions were shocking. No mom should talk to their kid like that. She told me that because she didn't have love growing up, she wouldn't show it to me either. She's even said in the past, "I might as well kill myself, I have nothing to live for." And here's a gem for you: she came back from an interview about 15 years ago, when I just had my oldest son, and said they asked her what makes her happy. I asked what she said, and she replied, "my husband and my grandson." That's it? Yep, that's it. She then told me I did my job by giving her a grandchild.

I know she cares about me, but I don't think she really feels love. Maybe because my grandparents never taught her, so she doesn’t know what it’s like. I wasn’t taught it either, but somehow, I’m full of love, so who knows.

Growing up, my mom always favored my sister (same mom, different dads), and it was super obvious. My mom's third husband was around from when I was 5 until I was 18, and he was usually the one I turned to for everything. It was always my mom and sister versus him and me. Guess who lost the most? Yep, us.

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Step dad

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My mom's third husband and I got really close over time, but it didn't start that way. At first, things were pretty rough between us. Eventually, he became one of my favorite people. He wasn't traditionally affectionate, but he showed he cared in other ways. He was there for me when no one else was. When I was a teenager living in Florida, we used to have long chats on the back porch. He smoked cigarettes and would share them with me, so we'd bond over smoking. He also helped coach my softball team when my mom never showed up to the games. We even took a trip to Missouri/Kansas to visit his family, just the two of us. He was like a dad to me in every way except one.

When I turned 18, my mom and he split up for the first time. We were still in Florida, but my mom decided to move back up north to where I was born. I was in the middle of EMT school, and he didn't want to move back, so she took my sister and left. It was just him and me for a while. I helped out around the house, and he handled the finances. I had a job and contributed where I could. I turned my sister's old room into a hangout space. Things were good until his sister reintroduced him to his high school sweetheart, who was divorced with two kids. They started dating again, but she had some major issues. She did everything she could to exclude me. One night, after work, he told me they were going out to dinner, I was driving home, and it didn’t take long. I asked him to wait for me, but when I got home, they were gone. She convinced him not to wait, and he listened.

At this point, my mom and he were still technically married. She really disliked my mom and, by extension, me. Eventually, she convinced him to sell our house and move in with her in another city, which meant I wasn't welcome. I ended up moving back north with my mom. A few months later, he tried to work things out with my mom, but it didn't last. I remember her looking for men online while he watched TV. She even found her current husband during that time. He moved back to Florida with her, and my mom and he divorced. He married her. I tried to keep in touch because he meant so much to me. I sent letters and pictures of my newborn son, but she messaged me on Facebook, telling me to stop. She said she intercepted my letters and threw them away, claiming I wasn't his real daughter. When I called him, he just said, "happy wife, happy life," and that was it. I didn't see him again until a few years ago, and that was the last time.

I stayed in touch with some of his family, and they told me how awful she was to him and everyone else. She was diabetic and didn't take care of herself, and she passed away years ago. After that, my mom and he started talking on the phone as friends, and we met up for lunch when he came to town a few years back. He met three of my four kids, though my oldest was in a facility then. He went back to Florida, and I've tried to keep in touch through Facebook, but he rarely responds. We're still Facebook friends, but I don't go on there much. My mom recently told me he got remarried, so hopefully, he's doing well. I miss him a lot, but it's been a long time, and the pain has healed.

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Father

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Growing up, my dad lived anywhere from 3 to 5 hours away, depending on where he was at the time. I stayed in the city I was born in and spent most of my life. My sister, who has a different mom but the same dad, either lived with him when we were younger or just closer to him as we got older. Oh, and did I mention my dad's on his fifth marriage? My mom was his second, and my sister's mom was his third. As a kid, I never felt comfortable around him. It always seemed like he didn't really want me there, and I was only around because the court said I had to be. I remember feeling so upset whenever I had to be with him. He would always complain to me, whenever I saw him, about my mom raising the child support. She never talked bad about him. In fact when I used to complain about him she would just say. He’s your father. One Easter, he came to our party, and my mom made me hug him. I was about 8 or 9, and I still remember how upset that made me.

He'd take my sister and me for two weeks each summer, and sometimes I'd see him on a holiday if he felt like making the trip. One Christmas, he picked up my sister because she lived two hours away, while I lived five hours away, so he didn’t get me. He said it was just easier to get her because she was closer.

I still remember when I was around 5, and my sister was a toddler. My dad was living with her mom back then. My sister had her own playroom with all her toys. I was playing with something, and she didn't want me to, so she bit me. I guess I hit her back because the next thing I knew, I was getting my butt beat. I tried to explain that she bit me and even showed him the mark, but he didn't care. He had a waterbed at the time, and after he hit me, he made me go lay in there with my sister. Of course, she was being a typical toddler and messing with me. I ended up squeezing myself between the water bag and the bed to get away.

Whenever we stayed with him, we barely saw him. He was either working or with one of his girlfriends. We usually stayed with my aunt or grandparents. I remember one time he was living with a lady (can't even remember her name) who had three daughters, one close to my age. My sister is about 3 and a half years younger than me. To pass the time, we'd walk around the neighborhood. There was a Volkswagen Beetle down the road, and every time we passed it, my sister would punch me and say, "punch buggy, no punch back." I told her she could only do it once, not every single time we passed it. Well, she didn't listen. I was probably around 10 or 11 at the time. I warned her that if she punched me again, I'd punch her back. You can guess what happened next. She ran to our dad, screaming. As I walked up the driveway, he stormed over and punched me right in the face. He said, "now you know what it feels like to be punched by someone bigger than you." First of all, he was a grown man, and I was just a kid. Second, I warned her, and I definitely didn't punch her in the face. I was so mad that I went off on him. He threatened to beat me with his belt. Luckily, I had one on me and told him to go ahead and try because I'd use mine on him. I called my mom, and she managed to calm things down.

There was a time when I didn’t talk to or see him for four whole years. I was spending my usual two weeks with him at the start of summer before 10th grade. After that, I was supposed to move to Florida. I flew from there to Florida. Most of those two weeks were spent chilling at his place when I wasn’t hanging out with my aunt or grandparents. I ate a ton of ice cream sandwiches and watched MTV and VH1 that summer. He was working at Hershey back then. This was when those channels actually played music videos, and I was all about music. One day, he walked in, saw something on MTV he didn’t like, and called my mom, telling her I couldn’t watch MTV or VH1 anymore. Seriously??? I was so mad. On the day I was supposed to leave for Florida, I was on the computer in the living room chatting with my best friend. She was planning to visit me for the last month of summer in Florida. But she got in trouble at school, and her mom was threatening to cancel the trip. I was messaging her, saying, “Your mom better let you go; we’ve been planning this forever.” Suddenly, my dad, who I didn’t even realize was standing behind me, saw it. He blew up, saying I had no right to tell an adult what to do. I was shocked and fired back, telling him I wasn’t even talking to an adult, so how could I be telling one what to do? I told him to mind his own business. He lost it and grabbed his belt, swinging it at me. I got hit wherever he could reach. I grabbed the phone and threatened to call the cops, while my little sister was crying and begging me not to. I ended up with welts all over my legs from the belt. At one point, he punched me off the chair I was sitting on and then picked it up like he was going to hit me with it. I yelled at him to go ahead and see what happens. I called my mom, and she was furious. She demanded he take me to the airport right away, even though my flight wasn’t until much later. At the airport, while he was getting my stuff out of the car, my sister got out to say goodbye, and he yelled at her to get back in. I told him to shut up, that I was going to say goodbye to my sister whether he liked it or not. It took me four years to reach out to him again. I honestly thought my mom would make me see him since it was in the custody agreement and I was still a kid. Thankfully, she did one thing right and didn’t force me to.

When I was a teenager, my dad had this super cool white Mustang. I wasn't old enough to drive yet, but he promised to give it to me when I turned 16. I have an older stepsister who hasn't exactly been a role model—she's been in and out of jail. He let her use the Mustang, and she ended up totaling it. So much for the car I was promised. My dad always talks about his stepkids and step-grandkids when he's with us. They've always been his top priority, and he's done more for them than he ever did for me and my sister.

Now that I'm an adult with my own kids, I've seen him a little more often. He sends cards with money for holidays and birthdays, but he still doesn't make the effort to visit us. We've gone to see him many times, even though he lives 5 hours away. We get along okay now, but there's just no real connection between us. I hoped he'd be more involved with his grandkids, but that's not going to happen.

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Ex Best Friend

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Back in high school, I had this amazing friend, he was my best buddy. He was a year ahead of me, and we hung out all the time. His family felt like my own, and I even spent a Thanksgiving with them. When Hurricane Charlie hit Florida, I chose to stay at his place instead of with my family because it felt like home. He lived on a small farm with horses, pigs, a grumpy turkey, and cows. He took me horseback riding, and I even rode a motorcycle for the first (and last) time with him, which ended with a bad burn on my leg from the muffler.

I think he had a crush on me most of the time. We tried dating once, but it just felt too weird for me. He was like the big brother I never had. When I told him dating was too strange, he ghosted me for a month or so. I waited for him to reach out, but when he didn’t, I ended up following him around school. I remember sitting next to him in the hallway before his English class, and he ignored me. I told him I’d go into his class if he didn’t talk to me, he knew I would do it. He did, and we started talking again. We stayed friends even after I moved back up north. He even helped me move, driving up with me and staying for a week before my mom flew him back. When I joined the military, he came to celebrate with me on my 21st birthday. The next time I saw him, I was dating my ex-husband. I visited him in Florida, but he was more into his new girlfriend than hanging out with me.

My ex-husband and I had just started dating. He was at Disney with his family, and I was with mine about 45 minutes away (that wasn’t even planned). My ex husband ended up having to pick me up from my ex’s friend’s house because he ditched me for his girlfriend.

That wasn’t the last time. The last time I saw him was when my oldest son was just a few months old. We visited Florida, and while hanging at his place, his girlfriend called, and he left to be with her, leaving me and my baby behind. Both times he left me at his house. My mom ended up having to pick me up that time.

Not long after, he messaged me saying he was marrying her and couldn’t talk to me anymore because she wouldn’t allow it. He blocked me on all social media. A few years later, I found his cousin on Facebook. She was a bit snippy, but she told me he was still married and had a daughter. I'm really glad he found what he wanted. We were friends for 12 years before he decided to cut ties.

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Others

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I've got some awesome friends, and they're there for me to a point. Most of them are caught up in their own stuff, which I totally understand. It just means I don't hang out with people all that much.

I spent nearly two years pouring my heart and energy into the facility I just got booted from, thinking people actually cared about me and that what I was doing mattered. Turns out, I was wrong, since they kicked me out without any explanation. Then, my own company, knowing how much this place meant to me, just shrugged it off and said I wasn't owed any explanation. Yeah, you're right! No one is owed anything. It's just basic human decency, but that's clearly missing here. I guess never being a priority is what really made this so tough. For once, I thought I found a place where I belonged, where I was wanted and appreciated. But, once again, I was wrong.

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It Is What It Is I Suppose

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I've never really been anyone's priority in my life. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but does anyone ever really get used to that? I've learned to live with it. My blogs are super helpful when I need to vent since I don't really have anyone to talk to. So, I'll just keep going with my life, the way I have been. I'm figuring out how to make myself a priority instead. I've even learned to say no to people, which was always tough for me. This caregiver will NEVER stop caring and loving people, no matter how I feel. If I can help it, nobody will ever feel unwanted or unloved.