Confessions of a Trophy Wife

 

My Triumph Over Adversity.

 

By Maria Dolan

 

I met Brad 20 years ago when I was 19. I was working as an aerobics instructor at Club Inferno and he was a type A trying to get into shape.

 It went the way most love stories do: he loved the way I looked in Lycra and I loved the way he looked in his Jag.

 

It was a long time before we were able to be married because he had some loose ends to tie up, like his wife and three kids but finally I was wed to the man of my dreams!

 

Life was a fairytale for 18 blissful years until shortly after my 39th birthday  when I started to sense something was wrong.

 

Brad worked very hard. He had to work almost every night and was forced to go on business trips every weekend so I didn't think that he would have time for an affair, but there were little red flags. Little things like tampons in his glovebox, a brassiere stuffed behind the backseat and lipstick on his underpants.

 

I didn't want to doubt Brad but felt I had to say something when I caught him naked in our bed with his ex-wife's baby sitter Diane. I demanded to know what was going and he told me Diane was was interested in purchasing a Sealy Posturpedic and that she'd never slept naked on cotton sheets before. The tampons were for his ears. the lipstick was for luck and the brassiere was there for me in case of emergency.

 

I apologized when he got in from driving her home.

 

I felt terrible for doubting him and things were fine for a while but I became suspicious again after he came in one night and said "I don't love you anymore I'm moving in with Diane."

 

I had a hunch that our marriage might be in trouble when Brad moved out the next day.

 

He'd shut off his phone and when I called his office his assistant told me he was on vacation--which was weird because I wasn't. I called his ex-wife but she just laughed hysterically.( I don't understand why women won't help each other. She is an old skank, but she didn't have to be so cold). I tried to call his children but they wouldn't even return my calls. I called his mother but couldn't get through because she passed away two years ago.

 

A week passed with no word and his dinners were getting really cold.

 

By hiring a private investigator I found Diane's number and got up the nerve to call him. He said that he couldn't talk because he had lost his voice but I was not to be denied. I had to say what was on my mind.

 

I told him that I was nothing without him and he agreed. But he still was not coming home.

 

I was shattered. I spent endless days just wandering around the house in my bathrobe weeping and and letting my roots show until until one day I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

 

Everything became clear.

 

I had let myself get old.

 

I'd always exercised because Brad hated any percentage of body fat and I went to the hairdresser's every day with a frosting once a week. I had weekly facials and monthly peels but still I had failed.

 

I took a long hard look in the mirror. I saw the crows feet around my eyes and the pouch under my chin. My body was slender but the flesh was not as tight and wrinkles had appeared.

 

Confronted with this grotesque apparition I was energized and very fortunate to have a plastic surgeon who could handle emergencies

 

While recovering, I memorized jokes and caught up on my soaps all the things I didn't have time for when I was with Brad because I was busy shopping.

 

At the end of six weeks I looked as I did 20 years before only a little more surprised.

 

Brad started to call me once he got his voice back because he wanted to some of his things back, like some personal papers, his clothes and the house, but I ignored his calls and his lawyers calls until I was ready for the unveiling.

 

Once the bruises healed I invited Brad over. I ordered in a sumptuous feast and dreamed of our romantic reunion, but Brad asked if he could get it to take-out as as Diane was waiting out front in the car.

 

I fumed as I stuffed the food in plastic containers. Enough" I swore to myself. Enough.

 

I did nothing to deserve this. I was well groomed every day of my life. I watched the staff keep the house clean, made witty comments at cocktail parties and  looked terrific in a sportscar  what more could a man want?

 

Brad wanted someone younger.

 

 

I was desperate and alone. I needed some time for quiet contemplation so I went for a bikini wax. While she ripped the hair out I looked deep within.

 

All this time I thought looking beautiful and being able to wear just about anything was enough--it wasn't. I probed further and realized that I had devoted so much time to Brad and my personal appearance that I had left no time for improving my inner self. I was... empty.

 

Oh, well.  I figured no sense dwelling on what I couldn't change so I paid the aestheticism and bought some gum.

 

I sued Brad for everything I could but I ended up with a piddly allowance that wouldn't even keep me in facial peels.

 

I knew that I would have to find a way to survive so, I cruised the nightspots but the crowds were so young that I felt completely out of place.

 

I started going to lounge bars by the airport but still love and security alluded me. The men arriving at the airport were all married which wasn't a problem, the problem was they were looking for someone even younger than me. Out of desperation I finally ended up attending lawn bowling tournaments.

 

That was the smartest thing I ever did.

 

I met an adorable man Edward and we were married three weeks after we met. It was a lovely service. Edward looks so handsome as they wheeled him down the aisle and I looked a thousand times better than his great-granddaughter who was my bridesmaid.

 

Edward and I are blissfully happy. I visit him every other week in the home and let him feel my new breasts.

 

As I write this, I am watching the sunset from the deck of my beach house looking back on my journey. and the 12 weeks of suffering and misery I endured. I realize how far I've come and how much I've grown.

 

I wouldn't wish those weeks of misery on anybody except Brad, Diane and his ex-wife.

 

I have triumphed.

 

© 2000 Sharon Grehan-Howes All rights reserved.