One of Jim’s good ideas—each week he would split the class up and crunch our feelings. Each group was supposed to be part women and part men.
One week, by the grace of God, I ended up in a group with all women. I admit I was intimidated. Jane said, “Oh, we got Mike with us, let’s gang up on him.”
Then they started to talk and ignore me. They were really going at it. One woman asked, “Where do you all go to meet guys?” Another woman responded, “I go to the Mountaineers Club.” All of the women thought the men at that particular club were dorks. I spoke up, “Remind me not to go there.” I was asked where I went to meet women. I replied, “Not here!” Actually, this got a good laugh and I started to feel less intimidated.
I went on, “I don’t go anywhere to meet women because I don’t feel as if I’m ready for a real relationship. I don’t want to bring a woman into my miserable life right now,” if you could have seen their looks. Some of these “insensitive” women almost cried. They could not believe I, a man, had such emotions.
“Is that how you really feel?” Jane asked.
“Yes, it is.” I was very emotional about my divorce and could not hide it. They started to look at me and talk to me differently when I indicated I was fearful of hurting a woman or being hurt by her. They began to realize I was a lot like them; human, with vulnerabilities.
I told them a story about a woman I had met after my separation, but before my divorce. Her name was May, and she taught me a lot. I met her at a park and started talking about my separation and struggles. She said she could tell I still loved my soon-to-be ex-wife. May had gone through a divorce about ten years before. She had to leave a mutually abusive relationship and admitted to having a temper and tendency towards violence. Her ex would hit her and say mean things and she acted the same way toward him; sometimes, for no other reason than jealousy.
She asked if my wife had a temper. I responded, “Not too much, other than pouring scalding coffee on me while riding with my boss in his truck, and throwing an old glass ashtray at my face.” (The ashtray broke into three pieces when it hit me right between the eyes.)
Surprised, May said, “Oh my God, I bet that hurt!”
I told her about my own temper and how Connie and I had heated arguments that would last for hours.
Kay curiously asked why Connie poured the hot coffee on me. I said my boss, Tim, would pick me up in the morning and Connie would get a ride to her job as well. This was when we first lived together and neither of us had cars.
One morning we were driving along and Tim jokingly said, “Mike, do you want to see those girls again today? That one blond thought you were cute.” Connie flared with jealous anger and poured the coffee on my face and neck. Tim said he was just kidding, but Connie was not listening. Tim pulled over; Connie got out and ran away. Her unwillingness to listen and jealous tirades were trademarks of her personality and behavior.
