My ex-husband called himself a man-baby once and thus the name stuck in my mind. He has also (with much pride) called himself a “heartless son of a bitch” and a “four year old who shaves.”
I came to be married to him after a whirl-wind romance and a wedding that somehow kept getting moved up and moved up. I know now that he “didn’t want to loose me” so he manipulated facts to make it seem that we must be married hastily. It was a classic abuse-control pattern. He couldn’t risk his facade cracking before having me trapped.
He’s about 6’2″ and 350 lbs. He can cry on command, big crocodile tears. He’s afraid of the dark because “bad things happen in the dark.” He’s got severe heart disease but puts a quarter cup of butter on one slice of bread. He thinks it’s worse to be gay than a child rapist. An actual quote after Molester (Man-baby’s son) raped Little Boy: “I’m worried about Molester. He’s worried people will think he’s gay because of all this.”
He still texts me long winded meandering novels with spelling and grammar errors a second grader could catch.
My mom thinks he doesn’t get enough oxygen to his brain. DD thinks the high-fat lifestyle has clogged his brain. I think he got developmentally stuck at the age of 14 months. He can be cute and manipulative to get what he wants but he can’t handle not getting his own way all the time. Anything that isn’t a compliment is an insult to him and he goes crazy over it.
Man-baby couldn’t handle my basic expectations for how my children and I ought to be treated or the boundaries I placed on behavior I wouldn’t have in my home. I have this crazy idea that we should be safe in our home, that yelling and punching and throwing are wrong.
He once told me that he had told his daughters that the thing to do in a relationship if you don’t like what your partner’s doing is to do it back. But he went crazy when I forward one of his texts back with the pronouns switched. He can dish a lot of shit but couldn’t take even a fly’s worth.
By mid-February I was struggling with myself having allowed my boundaries to be broken and my heart to be shattered. So bit by bit I changed how I reacted to him. He decided I must be on drugs because I quit letting him walk on me and insult my kids. He’s still determined that our marriage was ruined because I “cooked my brain” with pot. Really?! It’s actually pretty funny. I could pee in a cup no problem but know he couldn’t take a breathalyzer.
It’s a classic example of his complete lack of responsibility. He will manufacture the most far-fetched and bizarre stories about other people to avoid taking any responsibility for his own actions. He also accused my of having a lesbian affair. His other ex-wife was accused of being a lesbian while also being accused of sleeping with a gay man…. Add up the logic there.