I have been listening to Gloria Gaynor's disco hit 'I Will Survive' going on a nonstop loop in my brain for several days now. I get that way, I honestly don't think I really need a radio or iPod as I have a huge catalog of music that I can recall almost at will. And then there is that odd moment between sleep and the beginning of the day when I will recall the music I have been sleeping with and it becomes my 'theme of the day'. That must have been where Gloria came into all of this.

No matter how trite it may sound, Gloria is correct- I will survive all of this. What have I been doing for the past few days? I've been getting the new house ready for it's new Master. Pulling down wallpaper, cleaning the bathrooms, getting new carpet installed - the usual stuff that I do when we have a vacant rental. Why am I going to all this trouble for someone who is going to be out of my life soon?

Well, I think it has to do with two things; habit and permanence. It is just habit to go into one of my rentals and make it all nice. Shoot, I've done that in anticipation of complete strangers, so why not for someone I know- even if I don't like him very well these days. And then the second thing, if I make it nice then the chances of him returning to me diminish greatly. Heck, I've been imagining asking a neighbor of ours (who knows lots of single school teacher types) to fix him up with a little honey of his own. Her buds like to 'partay' and would love the chance to be around him. I honestly might do just this very thing.

I know my tone tonight is pretty smarmy, a real smart alec. As I was scraping wallpaper in the second room I've done over there I got to thinking about before I had ever met my husband. (Cue 'Foreplay/Longtime' by Boston, it was on the radio then and now). I was pretty much alone then, I was only seventeen but had left home, and I was pretty resourceful. I had a job, was saving for college, and was just preparing for my future. No man had to show me the direction that he thought I should be traveling in, or what ever else he felt that I should do so I could fit into his life. I was master of my very own destiny, and it felt very good to me. Back then I assumed the mantle of responsibility for my own self quite easily, I had been very independent as a child.

Then I met my future husband and all thoughts about 'self' were gone. I had been raised to think that it was rather romantic for two people to meld completely and become one personality. It was just the way my generation was raised, I guess. The one thing that we really didn't ever take into consideration was the fact that we really were two separate entities, no matter how deeply we felt about one another we could never have the same exact set of experiences and personality traits to make us identical. We could never truly be 'one', there would always be some little foible that made us each individuals.

Individuals who should have respect and affection for each other. But somehow all that kind of fell by the wayside in my case. My husband never had true respect for me, and in turn I lost all affection for him. Harsh words to put down into real thoughts, but true. It took me quite a few years to realize what was missing in my life, and what I had given up in the name of 'love'. I should be ashamed to have so freely given up my very sense of self so easily to another person who really didn't appreciate what I had done for the sake of 'us'. Make no mistake, it wasn't a 'gift' I was giving, it was more like I just jettisoned my own goals, plans, future dreams, career desires and sense of being along side the road of life. Kind of like when we moved to another duty station we would leave a part of our lives behind us. I was the ultimate 'people pleaser', I would do whatever it took to make my marriage work and keep my husband happy. I never minded giving more than my fair share, I always felt the love, patience, and respect I put forth into my marriage would come back to me ten-fold.

Only I was completely wrong. I hated to admit it, and I certainly overlooked a lot that was wrong with us for many years. When we had been together for about fourteen years the cracks in the facade starting showing, but by then it was too late. We had one child and I wasn't sure how I would provide for him if I was alone. So I just swallowed my growing doubts and moved along with life. I had another child, moved a few more times, and when the dust settled I began to see our relationship for what it was- lousy.

I had finally become a true non-entity to the man I had pledged my life to. I was an emotional and verbal whipping post for someone who didn't have the courage to deal with his own tightly wound frustrations and lack of 'control' over the same everyday things that no one has control of. His idea of 'dealing' with life was to take it out on the person handiest to him, which would be me. His rational was that he was secure in our relationship. He must have subconsciously figured that he had beaten me down spiritually and had no where else to go, so I would stay put and live with his ranting. By the way, he is in excellent health these days; low blood pressure, good cholesterol count, trim build. His method of dealing with the stresses of modern life was to heap them on me.

It took my own struggles with depression and my own health issues to finally open my eyes to what had happened to me, much of what I was dealing with was caused by stress and unhappiness. It was a gradual descent, of course, so that what was happening to me wasn't easy to see at the time. But finally enough time has passed that the 'me' that had been buried all those years ago eventually surfaced again. I have stayed in this marriage longer than I really should have, but finally things are looking up and my world is changing for the absolute better. I have survived the past thirty odd years, not always well, but I'm still here. Which is what Gloria Gaynor really sings about; it's not about surviving with the best cars, the most money in the bank, or whatever material things that you once deemed important. It's about surviving with your sense of self' intact. That precious sense of being your own person is worth more than can be quantified. Believe me, I know from personal experience. Time to cue Johnny Nash, "I Can See Clearly Now".