Bonnieb’s Story

Chapter 2—Finding my spiritual path & meeting Robert
This heartbreaking accusation put me in a situation that I could not control, fix or change. As unfair and terrible as it was, I simply had to sit with it. The pain was unbearable for a long time. I think I cried daily for about 18 months. But something else happened—my heart was truly broken, which left it wide open, and I had real empathy and compassion for the first time in a very big way.
I had just moved into a little studio apartment, and the guy next door struck up a conversation with me on my first day there. He shared with me that he was a Buddhist and a recovering alcoholic. He talked with me about addiction and 12 steps and it all sounded so positive to me. Instead of the old judgmental Bonnie, I could really relate to him. And even though I wasn’t an addict, I could see parallels between his struggle and my own. Simply put, we were both suffering and seeking happiness. We became fast friends. He invited me to a Buddhist teaching. The lama was Tibetan and had spent 20 years imprisoned and tortured by the Chinese. I wasn’t interested from a religious or spiritual perspective, but intellectually it sounded fascinating and I agreed to go. At that point in my life I wasn’t spiritually seeking. (This was also a little bit related to my arrogance.)
So I found myself that evening in a quiet retreat center in the Santa Cruz mountains. Everything about the place was strange to me, the images on the wall, the prostrations and chanting everyone did, even the sitting on the floor. Then the Lama came in. Nothing mystical, but I can say that he was one of the most beautiful people I had ever laid eyes on. He had the most sparkling eyes, and the sweetest grandfatherly smile http://www.fpmt.org/teachers/lineage-lamas/498-ribur.html. When he began to speak, at first I was surprised. I thought he was going to talk about his experiences as a religious/political prisoner, but instead he just spoke simple truths. The sort of things I had heard all of my life—things like the golden rule. But somehow coming from him it sounded brand new, REAL, because I had the strong sense that it was coming from a person who embodied these things. Whatever it was he had—I wanted to be like that. By the end of the night I considered myself a Buddhist and I proceeded to plunge in. Within 6 months I was living and working in a Buddhist center. I read everything I could get my hands on. It all made so much sense to me. I went to teachings, and retreats and developed a daily meditation practice. I was becoming clearer than ever, and my heart was opening more and more. A place of strength and wellness started develop in me, a peace that was steady and seemed unshakable. It is still there, but not as unshakable as I once thought.
It’s at this point that I met Robert. My sister had asked me to go out dancing with her. The idea of spending an evening in a silicon valley meat market had NO appeal to me, but my sister was feeling down and I knew it would do her good to have a night out. I had also just taken a set of vows, that are centered around service to others. One of the vows is to never turn down an invitation unless you have a good reason. I extended that vow to include dancing with every guy who asked that night. One of them was Robert, 5ft 4, with a wrinkly shirt and a bad haircut. But he had a cute mischievous smile and bright blue eyes. I wasn’t attracted to him, but I couldn’t help but like him. He seemed awkward and genuine. Definitely not experienced with women. He asked a lot of questions and seemed interested in me. He asked me out and I accepted. I was being friendly, but I definitely wasn’t looking or for that matter even really open to meeting someone. Later when we would reflect on that night we laughed and he would say “I thought you liked me, I didn’t know you were in the midst of some religious thing”. For our first date, I invited him to a party with a bunch of my friends because I didn’t really want it to be a date.
Robert appeared to be a very open and vulnerable kind of person. He shared with me that he was in therapy. He was reading chicken soup for the soul for gods sake! He seemed to be very concerned with “doing the right thing” and living up to standards or expectations. He always seemed to be in the midst of some internal struggle. I wasn’t sure exactly what the struggle was, but I did think it was admirable. Especially in those early days I tried to help him to be more gentle with himself and to question where those expectations and standards came from, since they seemed to cause him a lot of pain. I tried to help him explore if they were his or something thrust upon him. An image of him was growing in my mind, and it is an image I still largely hold—that of “The Boxer” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2DglHU04rQ&feature=related especially the verse:
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev’ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains
Like the little engine who could, Robert seems to chug along trying….and I have been there, wanting to help, to be his friend. At some level I think his struggle is universal and this is what we can offer each other: love, acceptance and support.
I wanted this chapter to get you to my first D-day, and the aftermath, but writing this has been surprisingly painful. I still want to help him and he deserves it. He deserves it because he is a person. But Im realizing that I cant help him. 🙁

Thank you for your encouragement, patience and just for letting me get it out. I was 32 when I met Robert and he was 27. (Im 47 now)
Im travelling on business so will get the next installment in soon. Much love!

Thank you all for the kind words and support. I work in field marketing for a communications company which is why I do so much business travel. I organize our participation in tradeshows, conferences and events. Just got back from Las Vegas last night. Slept in the spare room and I wont even go into the why. Lets just say things are coming to a head. I am sad, ACHING, and scared, so of course, since I am vulnerable, I am being punished/blamed/abused. Trying to protect myself from the emotional battering. We are supposed to go to Alaska together tomorrow, part business, part fun.The fun part clearly isnt happening. So I half want him to come and am half hoping he wont. I wish I could just crawl in a hole. Im not a depressive person, but I feel I am sinking. We have a therapy appt. tonight–I am exhausted. Here is the next installment of my story. Thank you for being there, thank you for being people I can tell this to.

Chapter 3—Robert
The more I got to know this awkward guy, the more I liked him. He seemed to try so hard at everything he did. He was a crazy workaholic, and this was in the mid 90s, the peak of the boom in Silicon Valley. Robert worked for several start ups and regularly put in 18 hour days—also worked many weekends. It seemed crazy to me and I walked the line between being supportive and also encouraging him to relax more and to have boundaries at work.
Things between us were so sweet. We had many great adventures together—northern California has so much to offer beautiful parks and places to hike. Beaches, mountains, redwoods and meadows–we would bust our asses in the day and then get cleaned up, pull out the Zagat guide and find a new place for a decadent dinner. Robert would ask questions about Buddhism and we had many long discussions and debates. He was bright and energetic and I felt we were well matched. It was a fun time. He was very sweet and I was falling in love with him.
Sex was never wonderful from a “technical” perspective—Robert didn’t have much technique or skill, but energetically it was a nice connection. I cared for him, and for me that was most important. I did try to guide him in ways that would make things more enjoyable for me, more sensual, but he didn’t pay much attention in that way. He also would always say he liked things “free and easy” later to me that came to signal a kind of self-centered laziness, but this was early in the relationship and I didn’t see it that way then. Also 6-8 months into the relationship there started to be erectile disfunction, but this wasn’t much of a problem, nor was it a red flag for me. Robert DID work tons of hours, and he attributed it to stress. I didn’t want to make him feel bad or insecure and for me it was more about the emotional connection anyway. It happened more and more frequently, but I let it go. I told him it was alright, and it was, I thought….
I used the word awkward to describe Robert, maybe I should try to describe what I actually mean. He had a boyish quality, which was refreshing, endearing and a little bit of an absentminded professor. On our first date he lost his car in the parking lot. He would ask a lot of questions of me and of other people, which seemed friendly and enthusiastic, but the delivery never seemed natural. It always looked like he had to try so hard at everything—even interpersonal relations. Im not sure why, but there is something about effort that I find so humanizing (vulnerable) and admirable. Robert is 6 years younger than I am and I attributed a lot of his quirks to a simple lack of life experience. When I look back, there were warning signs, but I certainly didn’t see them. There are two things that did stand out in my mind though, and I should have given them more weight.
We didn’t spend our first Christmas together. We had been dating for 11 months. Robert was going home to Colorado for the holidays. He asked me what I wanted. I said I could use a watch and he invited me to shop with him and pick one out. I love surprises, and also was timid to select something—not sure how much to spend etc. So I asked him to please pick it out. I told him that I wasn’t picky (true) just to please stay away from gold (I only wear silver), and to not get anything with a leather band. When I got my present—guess what?!? It was a gold watch with a leather band! This to me was a bit of a red flag, it seemed to be a blatant disregard, while at the same time going through the motions of doing something nice. But I ignored it, didn’t want to be an ungrateful bitch. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
The second red flag was also Christmas—the following year when I did go with him to Colorado. Roberts parents were in their mid-forties when they had him, so they are quite a bit older than my parents. The entire time we were there I was flabbergasted. Robert and his brother barely visited with their parents. The 2 of them went down to the basement and played video games for hours, occasionally shouting out for their mother to bring them drinks or snacks. His brother was a little more social than Robert and would at least offer to help his mother clean up, but Robert didn’t lift his finger and just let this old woman wait on him. When I tried to tactfully mention something to him his response was that his mother “liked doing it”. I could see there was some truth in that, but also that she was itching to have more conversation and interaction with them. I stayed upstairs and kept her company, while his father sat in the living room with the television blaring sports. When “the boys” were upstairs they were playing with hand held gadgets or reading books. Everyone was together, but there was limited conversation. interaction. What I saw was that Roberts mom did want more (she talked my ear off—I love her!), but that Robert was happier to think that she just enjoyed waiting on him. “free and easy”=I don’t have to think about what others want/need.
That trip was harder to brush off than the watch. I spoke with good friends about it, and did really question whether this was an indicator of something bigger. Also, I started to see that Robert was becoming very defensive. Anything I said could be taken wrong. I was spending an awful lot of time dancing around trying to explain myself. I kept wondering what I was doing wrong, kept looking at myself and my communication, but it was starting to dawn on my that maybe Robert had a problem that didn’t have anything to do with me. There was also the lateness, the forgetfulness, but I didn’t connect any of that. NONE of it….
A Crystalline Moment—We were expecting a guest in a little more than an hour and I had just arrived home from work. Robert met me at the door, totally sweet and loving. “I want to play video games with my brother before Jon gets here. Do you mind?” Me, also sweetly: “ oh gosh, we only have a little bit of time and I was hoping to connect with you” Him, seething: “you fucking controlling bitch!” That was the moment I KNEW, definitively it wasn’t me. He went from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde in seconds flat with NO provocation at all. I said as much and told him we needed to get into counseling or it was over.
The first session with the counselor I expressed that I wished the problems were me or something I was doing, because I could work to fix them. I FEARED that Robert had a problem and that if that turned out to be the case it was going to be horrible, because his defensiveness brings out the worst in him. His self esteem cant handle imperfection. Of course he denied having a problem. He didn’t open up at all as I sat there struggling, to figure out what was going on, what the root of the problem was, begging him to please open up.
Two weeks into therapy, I had spent some time with a friend and returned home. Robert had left a screen open on the computer. It was a dating site and part of a conversation he was having with another woman. I felt the blood drain from my face, I was nauseous, shaking, DEVASTATED. ( I don’t really need to describe that moment to you though, do I? And it is a good thing, because I cant really describe it. There really aren’t words. Im so grateful to have this place to put my story, because I need to put it somewhere. Thank you.)
He came into the room and fell to his knees crying, saying he was sorry, that he had this problem long before me. That he wanted to stop and wasn’t able to. He loved me and needed help. So I went into compassion mode. I tried not to take it personally, not to let my ego run the situation. I tried to see it as a karmic lesson, for being so harsh in my judgment of my mother for staying with my dad. Now I knew the strength that staying required. I apologized to her. I loved him in spite of the fact that his actions hurt me.I understood and had compassion for his pain. I felt joy—because it seemed my capacity to care for another person in the face of my own pain had grown. I used the situation as grist for the spiritual mill. It was hard, but I did it. Our couples counseling turned into Roberts individual counseling with me joining periodically. I stood by him. I was strong. And in the end I felt we had weathered something together, that we were really a team, and I loved him more. And I trusted him again. When he asked me to marry him the next year, I was happy.

Thank you so much for your kindness and support. Im having a tough time right now. Forcing myself to write this is cathartic and I think is bringing some clarity. I wish the things Im seeing clearly didnt hurt so badly….much love to all of you sisters.

I love you guys and thank you again for the support and for letting me tell this.

Chapter 4—Texas and Double D’s
We had a lovely wedding in the Santa Cruz mountains in May 2002. I was so happy. Our vows were perfect and I loved Robert in a deep way that felt very special given what we had “worked through”. In fact our vows will come up if you google “Buddhist wedding ceremony”—I have had so many people tell me over the years that they used our vows. It is an odd feeling when I hear that, given everything that has happened…Ha! Here is an omen, the day after our wedding on the way home from the venue to get ready to leave for our honeymoon, someone ran a red light and hit us, totaling my car. Robert actually asked me if I thought that was an omen of some kind and I laughed it off. 🙁 Other than the car accident, things seemed off to a great start.
In 1999 Robert had bought a cute little condo, which by 2001 had doubled in value. Between the dot.com bust and 9/11 we were concerned that he had bought at the high end (we knew someone else who had paid half what we did 2 years before, so it has doubled every 2 years) and that the housing market might tank. We decided to sell when we thought we could still make money, rent for a year and then look to buy again and get something bigger. As crazy as it sounds, by the time we started looking after the wedding, even the price of the condo we sold had gone up $100k from when we sold. We literally found ourselves looking at $ 900k-1m “fix ‘er uppers”. It was depressing! Now I was really concerned that if we bought at that time and the market crashed, that we would be in so deep and Robert would have a nervous breakdown with that kind of a mortgage over his head. He was not only a workaholic, but really needed to have the trappings of success. It seemed to me that California was probably the most challenging place in the country for that.
My father was a pilot and I had grown up as an Army brat and moved all over. I loved California, but felt that I was flexible and could be happy anywhere. We started to entertain the idea of moving somewhere else. Robert at that time was doing very well and had his own company doing consulting work (thanks to me, who brought him every single customer he ever had!) and I thought that I would be able to work from home in my position (turned out I couldn’t so had to resign when we did move). I read an article that Austin was one of the ten best places to live. It sounded good on paper—like the next Silicon Valley. We went to check it out over the long memorial day weekend of 2003 (our anniversary trip). It seemed very nice, and looking at homes really sold us. We could get something 3 times the size of our condo for less than what we sold it for! We bought a house that weekend and by Labor day we had picked up and moved.
Why am I telling you all of this? Let me start with the fact that in no way did I feel like I was being a martyr by moving. I thought that where I lived didn’t matter so much, and that I could be happy anywhere. However, I had a good job, great friends (lots of them) and a huge Buddhist community with lots going on. I had already walked away from material stuff, basically living in an ashram, so the size of our house didn’t matter to me. I made the decision from my side to pursue moving because I knew it would be better for Robert. I knew moving somewhere less competitive and expensive would be good for him. He could have the huge house and not have to worry about a giant mortgage hanging over his head. I moved because I loved him. I wasn’t being a martyr, but I did feel I was being a generous and caring spouse.
Texas was more of an adjustment for me than I thought it would be. Since neither of us had jobs when we moved there, we really didn’t think about commuting. As it turned out I was fortunate and was hired by Apple almost immediately. Unfortunately it was a full 45 minutes away without traffic and with traffic could be upwards of 2 hours. It was miserable. I also felt a little socially isolated and missed my friends more than I had anticipated. Coinciding with our move to Texas, my son, now almost 16 was starting to have problems at school. As it turned out, by ex-husband had pretty much checked out after he became a teenager, and started to pop out a baby every year with his second wife. Richie had started to smoke pot, hang with an older crowd and rebel. His father (yes the phd scientist) decided to let him quit school! I blew a gasket and demanded that Richie come to Texas and live with us. Over my dead body was he going to quit school!
Richie had always gotten along so well with Robert. Our summers and holidays were filled with fun. They played video games, paint ball, rode bikes and did all sorts of things together. However, as Rich got older sometimes Robert would tense up and react to some of his ideas. Robert had been a very obedient, straight-laced kid. He never even smoked a cigarette all through high school. Rich was opinionated, open minded and a free thinker, basically he was rebellious, not unlike how I was as a kid. Rich literally in the space of a year went from being hard core republican to an anarchist. I thought it was pretty typical kid stuff, but Robert always seemed paranoid and would get uptight whenever Rich expressed a controversial opinion. The older Rich got, the more strained their communication was getting.
Rich got off the plane and I could tell he was stoned. Oh god, this wasn’t going to be fun. In fact, I wont give you all the gory details but lets just say I got so many calls from his high school that last year and a half that I recognized the Vice Principals “hello” and my heart would sink. From passing out Hunter S Thompson quotes, or political pamphlets to fomenting revolution in the classroom, Rich was a handful at school. Robert didn’t directly say much, but would pretty much vibe Rich out with such heavy energy, and then would peck at me on what to do with “my kid”. (need to mention that for all of Richs strong opinions and issues at school, he was always pleasant at home. But he would try to engage Robert in conversations and the mere difference in opinion made Robert angry and paranoid)
Robert would complain about little things too, like how late Rich stayed up, even on weekends. I felt so stressed and torn. Also during this time Robert in general had started to become flat out nasty—not just with us, but with other people too. It seemed there was no slight, no matter how small that either Rich or I could do that could roll off of his back.
It got so bad, that I finally asked him “are you doing those behaviors again? You seem to be always angry. I know it is challenging with Richie, but this seems like more than that. I don’t want to accuse you, but please, if that is going on, tell me so we can work on it.” Not only did he deny it, but he became very angry. He told me I needed to get over the past and quit throwing it up in his face. More time passed and it got even worse, and the sex was also declining. I asked again. This time he told me very hatefully that I needed professional help. He claimed that I was suspicious for no reason and needed to just get over the past, and also blamed it on the stress of having Rich with us. In fact he was furious that I had brought “a drug addicted kid” into our house! Within a week I had my second D-day.
I felt like my head and heart were going to explode. I was in a new place, without my support system. My teenage son was struggling, I was trying to keep the peace at home, work a full time job and now discovered my husband had been lying and cheating again (cyber and phone sex). I cant begin to express how hypocritical I thought Robert was. So harsh in his judgment of Rich (lying and smoking pot and doing mushrooms), who was just a kid, while he himself was being deceptive. I just couldn’t believe the lack of empathy! And all the while he thought he was being such a great support. It was over the top how disconnected he was. We went to meetings with other parents whose kids were having problems. It was always about him, and his hostility and anger came out so much that the counselors and other parents would all console me privately. This was the worst year of my life and I would have left for sure, except now I was halfway across the country, no local support, and my son was having problems. It was horrible.
I had planned a trip to Holland to see one of my lamas that fall. I was going to ask his advice on what I should do with my marriage. I was feeling very strongly that I should get a divorce. Instead of making me stronger, I felt all of the drama was taking a heavy toll on me. Robert wanted to come along. He had never been to Europe, we had some good friends who lived in England and he wanted to make a vacation out of it. Rich was in a program for addiction after I found mushrooms in his room (I didn’t think he was actually an addict, as much as just experimenting, but I thought it would be valuable for him since he had other behavior problems, and Im ashamed to admit, I did it also to keep the peace, to placate Robert and alleviate some of the stress).
We weren’t in Amsterdam for an hour before Robert wanted to go out to a “coffee house” to get high. It isn’t that I am a prude, I had smoked pot in high school and college, but given that my son was in a rehab and Robert was so paranoid about him, I was really disturbed. Plus, I was here for spiritual reasons, it just didn’t seem right. But Robert kept pouting, so I eventually agreed. I cant describe what happened as anything but an intense spiritual experience. We were sitting in a restaurant stoned, and Robert started to tell me what it was like to be him. He was showing up as vulnerable, showing me his insides, telling me how painful it was to be him. I had this sort of sense that he was looking up to me as a teacher, and then I thought no, he is teaching me—teaching me to be compassionate, giving me an opportunity to grow beyond myself. But the perception kept shifting, and the power (for lack of a better word) between us was undulating like some kind of a spiritual dance. Okay okay I told you I couldn’t explain it. But it was lovely. And then he asked me soooooo sweetly “please promise me you wont leave me, just for being me?” I had so much love and compassion for him, my eyes were swelled with tears and I promised. Then he said “but please promise me, that if I keep treating you badly that you will leave me” how could I? In that moment I would have died for him. But he asked me again to please promise that I would leave and I did….
I never asked my Lama about a divorce. It seemed I had gotten the answer. When we returned from our trip Rich came home and I thought we had all turned a corner. Robert enrolled in a Chinese medicine masters program. He felt that computers/his work had isolated him and contributed to his problems. He wanted to tap into some healing energy and to heal himself by helping others. He started to take more of an interest in spiritual things. Richard graduated from high school. He spent a couple of semesters at the community college, but didn’t know what he wanted to do. He felt he was foundering, so asked me to arrange for him to work and study at a Buddhist center back in California—“Mom, I don’t know where I am going, but it doesn’t seem positive or meaningful. I don’t want to be a crystal thumper, but you and the people you know all seem to be going somewhere positive.” he thrived there. I started a 5 year program of study in higher Buddhist teachings in Arizona which took me there three times a year, for 5 consecutive weekends at a time. Once again, it seemed we had pulled through and were stronger for it. In fact, I thought as a family we were having a spiritual renaissance. We went along like that for about 2 and a half years and then there was another D-day. This is three if you are counting. Silly me, once again, I was shocked. Devastated.