Gone

Halleluyer, the family is gone! We did it, we all survived.

I don't know why I let his family bother me so much. There have been many, many visits from his family over these past nine years we've been married and at the end of each one I feel immense relief.

Louis likes to trivialize the trauma of each visit by trying to convince me it wasn't all that bad. I hate this because it just adds to the hurt and anger and resentment I feel. I have consistently been the one who cleans the entire house before, during, and after visits. I do all the grocery shopping and gift buying. I run the shuttle from BART and the airports, meaning I wake up early and stay up late waiting for their calls. I chauffeur everybody everywhere, all the time. I arrange visits with the MIL so her family can relieve their guilt. And I do it all while juggling my on-call work schedule, which no one respects.

I'm so tired of Louis' family treating me like a second-class citizen while he's the hero. Every visit is the same deal and I'm just sick of it. So yes, I am celebrating the fact that the family is gone and I have my home back. Yes, it really was all that bad. No, I did not enjoy the visit. And no, I will not be nice. I've played that role before and just got walked all over.

I will be sageing like crazy tonight.