Son of a Preacher Man

I am going to preface this post by saying I fully admit I am bitter and hateful when it comes to this particular topic. I am going to probably sound bitter and hateful. I recognize this. I also don’t care. This is also probably going to contain some R rated material. So if you squick easy, you might skip it.

Alright. So My ex fiancée, who we will call Jared, because he looks just like Jared from subway commercials sans glasses, was an interesting character. I can't get a pic to uplead, ut you can google him and see.

We started dating when I was a sophomore in high school. We began to talk about marriage when I was a senior. I already knew that I was interested in females, but figured it was a passing thing (denial) and tried to push through it.

I won’t bore you with the details but I’ll hit the highlights, you can see why I dislike him so much. And you can get a few good laughs. I know I will.

Basic stats, looks like Jared. About 6’3” tall. Lispy-ish voice when not speaking in public. Son of a preacher, mom was a nurse. He had a sister my age. Two dogs and a cat, lived in a split level house. I am not kidding.

His mom hated me. I was so small I never wore bras (Note: I wore trainers until I was 19. I really didn’t need them.) She always got on to me for this. She would embarrass me at the dinner table by saying things like “I know you have no chest dear, but at least go to the children’s department of the store, you look like a hooker. And I wouldn’t want to force you to wear one of (sister’s name) bra’s that would hurt your feelings. (she was a C)
My mom, as I have previously discussed, is a little nutty. She one time asked me at dinner in a restaurant if they were on drugs. Nice. Never once did he stand up for me.

I started going to church with him. He encouraged me to sell all of my secular music CD’s and give the money to charity. He told me he would leave me if I didn’t (I was stupid enough to do it…naive idiot me…)

He would cry at the drop of a hat. I could say something like, what if your dog died, and he would burst into tears.

He liked to share. You know what I mean. His friends were asses. They liked that he shared. I didn’t. Asshole. I will supplement this by adding that he was an active member of the feminism group on our local campus. He even wore a burlap ribbon on his coat to signify the oppression of African women. He spelled women with a “y.”

He didn’t tell me I looked pretty on my prom night. I remember this vividly, because a guy who sat next to me in my Literature of the Bible Class (he was on our basketball team and I adored him) stopped me on my way out and told me he thought I looked lovely. I remember Jared was angry and I was happy someone had said something.

When I broke it off we still hung out. We got an apartment together. He forbid me to smoke in the house. I came home one night and he was smoking with his buddies.

He forbid me to drink in the house. (house rules, that is) I came home one night and he was having a party with the neighbors.

He came out as gay after we broke it off, and then retracted after he thought his parents would find out. His boyfriend (one of our neighbors and a friend of mine) was devastated. They had been dating well over 6 months.

He supported my drug habit. He started doing them too. Then he told me I was going to hell because I got him involved in drugs. He told me I had a problem and I needed to take care of it.

I had a fling with a guy when I was living with him. He kept knocking on my bedroom door while I had him over (the door was locked, of course, but we weren’t “doing” anything.) He kept yelling that he *let* me break things off with him because I liked chicks, but he’d be damned if he would let me have sex with some guy and not him. (he didn’t use polite terms like that either. The guy I was with went out and told him to shut up or he’d kick his ass. He shut up for a while and then yelled when the guy left.

He hit me one night when I had an argument with him and he wouldn’t let me out of the house. I tried to get out and he caught me in the yard of our apartment and hit me. (Don’t worry, I got him back. I broke his nose and collarbone. Ladies- take self defense.)

After the fight, he moved out the day before rent was due. Told out landlords I kicked him out because he was a Christian. They came knocking on my door, all up in arms, and demanded rent or eviction. I had to peel them off the ceiling by showing them my bruises. They let me stay a month rent free until I could get in to my Grandmother’s for a transition period, bless them.

He also never pointed out to me that 85 lbs was not a healthy weight for me. Let met think I was fat. I should not need to point out that at 18, 85 lbs is not fat for anyone.

So I know all of this in not his fault, but I feel like he didn’t treat me as well as he could have, and I know it’s a laundry list of things, and I know I have more, but I’ll spare you. Suffice to say, I do not like this guy very well. He hurt me a lot. And I don’t have a lot of respect for him.

He is married now. And has a lot of kid. 3 I think, and one on the way, from what my mom told me (he stopped her in a grocery store to ask after me a few months back, stupid ass) He is a preacher at another church in town now. He got an evangelical degree of some sort. I think he is a hypocrite of the highest order.

And that’s part of the story of why I loathe him more than any person ever.

The end.