I did get to speak with BJ at the IBI Marin meeting (actually, we were all out really late and I didn’t get home until 1:30AM.) I decided to go to to IBI in December, as well. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about in this blog entry.

People keep asking me, “What did you get out of IBI?” I watch other IBI’ers answer this question and we’re all somewhat “shallow” about it. “Oh, capital,” we say, or “I brought home a CFO/lawyer/accountant/[insert team member here.]”

No, for me it was different. I brought home a completely new attitude; a new way to think about things. I found myself saying to a client today, “I want to help you find a person who really fits with your team.” (This is as a replacement for myself; I’m too busy to continue helping them.) Then I found myself thinking, Holy crap, did I really say that?

“How can I help you?” is a powerful phrase. That’s what I brought home from IBI — to always ask my clients how I can help them. You’d be surprised how effective it is. Along with that, I brought home the ability to say “We can’t help you with that, but I know someone who can.” After all, if your clients feel you have their best interest in mind, they’ll respond in kind to you, and both you and your business will reap many rewards. That’s one learning experience you can’t put a dollar value on.

So I finally talked to C on the phone today. This was after I had a long phone conversation with a friend who has “been there” — to say the least! He gave me some things to look for on the phone.

C was miserable and upset, as usual… He said he loved me, that he wanted to be with me… all the right things, right? Wait! But he’s not here in California! So something isn’t right here.

My friend (we’ll call him Conner even though that’s not his real name) had told me that C had to make a decision. So when C called, feeling miserable, I reminded him that he had a decision to make. He said “No, I don’t…” That means he’s already made the decision! He’s there, and I’m here, and that means he didn’t choose me. No matter how much he says he loves me, I know that he can’t love me more than he loves his wife and kids, or he’d be here with me. When I talked to him today, it hit me that he’s stopped looking for a way to get out of this mess — he’s just wallowing in self-pity at this point, and pulling me into that because he “loves” me.

Conner asked me today, “Are you in love with him, or in love with being in love?” Of course my first instinct was to say I was in love with C — duh! But who knows, really. The fact is that he’s not here and I need to accept that and move on. Hey, if he decides to get divorced, he can call me and I’ll be there to help him through it. But if he makes the choice (and hell yeah, it was his choice) to stay with his wife, then I’ll find someone else who makes the choice to stay with me!

I will not let myself be dragged down by him any more. Yes, I absolutely love him with all my heart, and if ever he needs a shoulder to cry on, I’ll be here… in California… and he’ll be the one buying the plane tickets or driving the Miata to me, because I’m worth it.

Ready? Okay. This website wins the “reminds me most of my dad” award. (For those of you who don’t know, my father watches movies on fast-forward, and it drives my mother nuts.)

They basically summarize movies in a few lines. My favorites are The Matrix and You’ve Got Mail. Totally classic.

…there was actually someone here who understood me. One of my friends here is 8 1/2 months pregnant and obviously has more important things to focus on than hearing me talk (I don’t begrudge her that.) My other friend here in the Bay Area insists on deriding IBI and anything associated with it, and isn’t really listening when I explain things to him. He didn’t even have any comment when I showed him an excerpt from my new book… just “Sorry, I’m busy.” He hasn’t bothered to ask how things are going with me or if there’s anything he can do to help, even though I’ve asked him how I can help him several times recently.

I hate the feeling that no one cares. I hate it. I haven’t had a good long in-person conversation in way too long. I can write things in my blog, but it’s all too much like talking to a blank wall. I don’t know how I am going to get through this. Every morning when I wake up, everything just hits me like a sack of rocks and I feel sick to my stomach. It’s too painful. Half of me just wants to give up and half hangs on in the hope that it will eventually get better.

I need to make the pain go away.

Okay, okay, so I’m bothered by BJ. But the grumpiness that persists inside is more than that.

Last night, I had a discussion with a close friend I hadn’t talked to for a month or so. The discussion started out with him saying “I read your blog, and sorry I wasn’t around for all that.” Where was he? Apparently finding out that his wife (a compulsive shopper) had put $75,000 on credit cards in the past year (buying weird shit like a collection of Christmas tins), and then hid the whole thing from him.

Now he’s sleeping on a friend’s couch, while she lives with his mom. Of course, upon learning this, my first question was “Are you divorcing her?” After all, if he’s 1000 miles away and she hid this big thing from him… “No, I love her too much,” was his reply. Okay. So why was he 1000 miles away?

Apparently there are no jobs in the small town where his parents live, so he’s out finding work while she stays home and takes care of their kid. This part was not the part that angered me the most, however. Apparently, his wife (in a brilliant stroke of therapist-inspired “wisdom”) had decided that a “voluntary separation” would be the best thing for her (as “punishment” for her $75,000 Internet shopping spree), leaving him to pay off the entire $75,000 while she sat around on her ass (I mean, sorry, “took care of the kid.”)

Payments on $75,000 of credit card debt are about $3500-$4000 a month, and that’s not including living expenses or the other debt that they’ve accumulated. Not only that, but after telling me that, he starts smacking himself around on IM, saying things like “I’m not a good husband.”

How many times do you need to be beaten over the head with a cluestick before you realize that she wasn’t being a good wife? This woman went out and spent $75,000 behind your back, and expects you to pay the whole thing off while she sits around and twiddles her thumbs. Not only that, but she’s living it up with your mom while you’re sleeping on someone’s couch and trying to figure out how to pay the bills. Not only that, but someone has handed you a bunch of guilt on a platter, and you’re eating it up like it’s the last meal you’ll ever have.

When I said all of this to him, he said “You don’t live in the same world I do. She and I have an agreement: I bring in the money, and she takes care of the kid.” Funny, but I think she broke that agreement when she got you guys $75,000 in credit card debt! I live in the year 2004, where women run multi-billion dollar corporations, not sit around on their butt and expect their husbands to desperately find work in order to pay the bills they racked up buying a set of Christmas tins (among other meaningless items.) This woman is refusing to take responsibility for her actions, and thinks that “Hubby” can make it all magically disappear.

Whenever I get married, you gotta know that it will be a 50/50 relationship. No way will I ever demand that only one of us stay home and raise kids. I’ll stay home a couple days a week and work from home, but so will you. I’ll bring in the money and you will, too. And eventually, if we decide that we only need one income, we can sit down and have a discussion about who will work, and that discussion will not center around who has boobs and who has a penis.

This is the year 2004, not 1940. She broke the contract you two had, and it’s not your fault. I complain that our society is one of blame-shifting, and it is, but in this case, you can’t beat yourself up. You said you were working too much. That was part of the agreement you two had. You held up your end of the bargain and brought home the bacon. She didn’t hold up her end. Get a grip and realize she fucked you over.

—

I wanted to add a couple more things. Yes, I know he needs support and compassion from his friends right now. But the problem I’m having with this, is that, by blaming himself, he lets his wife think it’s OK to do this. She now has the freedom to think, “I did this because he wasn’t around,” or “I did this because I was so miserable about him being at work all the time.” That means she isn’t taking responsibility for her actions. By blaming yourself, you tell her that it’s OK to continue doing these things as long as you’re doing something that she doesn’t feel is right (like working so much.) You cannot bear her burden as well and “what-if” yourself to death.

Whatever crack this “therapist” is on, I can’t imagine it’s helping your wife to be separated from you. You need to be there, but be firm, with her: “I love you and respect you, but you need to make this right for us.” She needs to start working and paying off the debt. Even if it’s only part-time, it will still reduce your burden while allowing her to run smack into exactly what she did wrong and the pain it caused your family. If I were her, I would volunteer to work. It’s not your fault, and it’s not your responsibility to clean up after her mess. She is an adult too, and she needs to understand exactly what it’s going to cost your family to fix this.