Calling upon, and trusting our deepest inner strength to propel us to a life-changing moment is one of the greatest achievements a human being can experience.
The Bravest Thing I’ve Ever Done
by Mary Hirsch
If I close my eyes, I’m still there; it’s all so fresh, so barely yesterday…
It was my 36th birthday – a gloriously-beautiful, warm summer night in late August with a full moon shining brightly over the noisy, balloon-filled, champagne-corking party - a total surprise from my loving, devoted husband. An incredible party attended by . . . oh . . . a hundred of “our closest” friends?
We were the darling couple of Santa Monica and entertained quite often in our spacious home by the beach. I’d gone inside to check on the caterers and paused over the kitchen sink window for a moment to take in the festivities below: dozens of beautiful, tanned, glamorous people milling around the swimming pool, some dancing while others chatted and drank, swaying to the music coming from the band. Waiters in white coats dodged undulating bodies and upturned elbows as they passed around trays of hors d’oeuvres and glasses of champagne. I spotted Sonia, our nanny, showing off our beautiful, eight-month-old baby boy, Easton, with his show-stopping, huge, blue eyes.
I was in the process of “freezing” the moment forever, embe dding the memory in every cell in my body, when I heard a familiar, deep voice say: “What do you think, Mare, is this a party or what?!!”
It was Danny, my husband’s childhood friend from New York, another transplant to sunny California. They were both in real estate, but my husband was a real estate builder/developer with his own company while Danny leased commercial property.
With a smile filled with gratitude, peace and contentment, I remember answering: “Oh, Danny Boy, tonight, this very second, I feel totally fulfilled as a woman. I have it all: a husband who worships me; a beautiful, healthy baby boy; a home, a picket fence, a station wagon . . . even a “designer” dog!”
Giving him a big kiss on the cheek, I added, “And lots of good friends . . . like you. I owe you big time for introducing me to Brad. You’ve always looked out for me!”
I could have sworn that, for a split second, he looked a bit uncomfortable, but quickly recovered. “And a maid, Sam, don’t forget the maid. No Jewish girl is complete without a maid!” We laughed, but I was left with a “weird” little feeling that Danny was not telling me something…
I had met Danny several years earlier while he was dating my girlfriend, Brenda, and I was working on my Masters at UCLA and leasing real estate. I was a very busy girl with little time for dating, so I constantly refused Danny’s invitations to meet his friend, Bradley, who was relocating to Los Angeles after his divorce.
A self-made millionaire who’d lost a fortune due to the ongoing recession (and his divorce), Bradley had no qualms about “rebuilding his empire.” He aggressively sought out prospective investors. Many would actually laugh in his face, but he’d simply smile, thank them and pick up the tab. A perennial optimist, Bradley never let anyone else’s attitude bother him; he didn’t waste his energy.
Though Bradley was drop-dead gorgeous and disarmingly charming, it was the inner man I fell in love with – his self-assurance and unwavering belief in himself. Bradley owned the air he breathed. Simply put, he made things happen and had a lot of fun in the process.
Danny had been right; Bradley and I were a perfect match. I felt it the minute we locked eyes that Friday evening when Danny, my girlfriend, Brenda, and Brad dropped in on me unannounced while I was wearing an avocado face mask. I was furious with Danny and sent him, Brenda, and their bottle of champagne to wait in Danny’s Rolls while I spoke to Brad. I decided to put him to the test, even hoping to discourage him from pursuing me any further. I did not want to waste my time.
I told him I wasn't interested in dating; I was ready to settle down and was through working. I was looking for a husband, a baby, a house, a station wagon, a dog and a live-in maid. I suggested he go back to the car and – if he wanted to save his male ego - tell them whatever he wanted about me; it wasn’t my show.
I was serious . . . and he knew it. Especially the baby part: that was the deal breaker. But before I closed the door, he looked at me and said, “Listen, I had no idea we were dropping in unannounced. I’m sorry. You don’t know me, but I want everything you want. I married very young and we were wrong for each other. I already have two daughters, but a boy would be nice – every man wants a son. Give me a chance.”
I need to explain the baby part business in my “speech” to Mr. Wonderful. All my “demands” were, at that time, simply my needs at that point in my life and nothing for which I would imagine apologizing. That was my world; that was my reality and that was well within my comfort zone. The baby part? That was something that, after a lifetime of goal setting and achievement, I was beginning – and I mean beginning to think about the possibility of becoming a mother. A boy, preferably, since I had had four brothers and related best to men. But I was not the “typical” baby, goo-goo freak or even one who much cared for kids. I suppose I learned that from my own mother who adored her own brood but wasn’t into other kiddies that I can’t remember. But she had been a spectacularly strong, evolved mother and role model. I had no doubt that if I ever chose to bring a child into the world, I’d be a good mother too. The biological clock took care of that. And once I knew I wanted to be a mother, it was a matter of time and good judgment in finding the right man to be the father of my child. No one came even close until I met Bradley. He was perfect – and had earned my respect.
I took one long, hard look and decided I liked what I saw. I immediately knew this man’s confidence and power came from a strong knowledge of – and belief in – himself. I had met literally thousands of people in my field of public relations, media and real estate, and Bradley was the real thing.
The next few years were a whirlwind for us, the “perfect” couple. (“You and me against the world,” he would say.) While he worked hard rebuilding his “empire” and planning our dream home in Malibu, I worked out, hit the spa for beauty upkeep, shopped and “played” with my friends. My “job” was to look beautiful in the evening for dinner out with the gang. Bobby loved to eat out and always picked up the check.
On Sundays we’d usually load up the boat with friends and spend a glorious day sunning and sipping wine – the girls catching up, the boys scuba diving. Or we’d take the plane to Catalina or Mexico. I was in charge of the entertainment and munchies!
Then, seven years into the fairytale, I bounced into the study one evening all dolled up for dinner and announced “we” were pregnant. “Correction,” Bradley shot back and, without missing a beat, “you are pregnant!”
I knew there and then I was gaining a son, but losing a man. Brad, I’m certain, felt he was losing the love of his life and gaining nothing. His princess, his playmate, his “beautiful doll” was being usurped by a baby who would take up all her time and attention. He felt betrayed. For the first time in our relationship, he feared the competition of another male, even his own son. Especially his own son.
Bradley was unable to admit it, much less verbalize it, but I understood completely. I knew my Bradley. I did everything I could to encourage dialogue, but to no avail. I never pushed. Instead, I sought professional help and guidance for myself; I knew the road ahead would be trying. I was pregnant and whatever I felt my baby would feel. Notwithstanding my raging hormones, I relied heavily on prayer and my pre-marriage business training to keep the “drama” at bay. I could not “control the wind, but I could control my sails.” It was a bittersweet, lonely time.
A baby can pose a threat to any marriage and many do not survive the challenge. (Mine didn’t despite our ample resources.)
Bradley left me mentally and emotionally that night in the study. And, little by little, he left me physically as well. He began to spend more and more time away from home.
I was the last person to find out he was cheating on me. All my friends, including Danny, had known all along, but they wanted to protect me. I was pregnant, after all. That awkward moment with Danny at my birthday party was because he knew Bradley was cheating, but he couldn’t tell me. He had loyalty issues, of course.
I grew up with four brothers and four uncles and had been a tomboy all my life. I knew, loved and understood men. But Bradley broke my heart in a million pieces, crossing the line of no return. One can't dilute respect without diluting oneself and I wasn’t about to do that. I had to let him go . . . with love and blessings and an open door for him to visit his son whenever he wished. He pleaded for forgiveness, promising never to cheat again, but we both knew he would.
I knew my decision would bring about dire repercussions, especially financial – his ego would not tolerate being dumped. But all I wanted was to walk away with my son; with the sage advice of legal experts, I managed to do that.
The “punishment” was severe, but I've never regretted it. I reared a very decent – and genteel young man, keeping my vow to provide him with private schools and an Ivy League education. I have never denigrated Bradley’s character; least of all to my son. They are both men; let them work it out.
I will always love the man who stole my heart only to later break it, because he gave me the one thing I wanted most in the world . . . a son.
But I never put up with his nonsense; not an ounce. The moment I found out he had cheated on me, I let him go, even if I paid a huge price financially because he was a powerful man. My dignity and self-respect were beyond price… always have been; always will be.
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Your English major shows in your writing. But your lifestyle is a bit foreign to me. Although I spent three years in California and might have acquired some of that hundred-year-old gold, I always sought a simpler life and am giving away most of what I have, largely because I have no children to give it to.
As far as the divorce goes, they always financially devastating. And children are often affected for the rest of their lives. Your marriage looks like the type of marriage for all the wrong reasons. But I'm glad you did have a career of your own and not just be totally dependent on your husband. I married late in life and it didn't last. Made sure that It did not hurt either of us too much.
wow, that is one amazing story, and I can feel the strength of your beautiful loyal heart. I believe I would have done the same, Your an excellent writer, and I thorough enjoyed your story. Thank you.
Learn how to know if you are about to enter an abusive relationship. If you are already in an abusive relationship, learn how God wants you to get out of it. If you are an abuser, learn how you can become free of your abusive behavior. If you know so
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