Unforgiveness

Funny, I can forgive people.  Actually, it's not that hard.  It just feels like the thing to do.  But, forgiving myself is so very difficult.  And, in this place of marriage, I have found that I have a hard time forgiving myself.  I allowed this.  Thirteen years ago, when he outright told me he was ashamed of me and that he SHOULD be, I should have parted ways.  But, instead, I worked on improving my marriage.  I put myself out there.  Worked hard.  More sex.  More creative sex.  Meals on the table.  Clean up before he comes home.  Don't nag.  Blah blah blah.  You know the routine.  You have yours too.  And when his family didn't feel like I was good enough, I should have taken the hint when he didn't say anything or stand up for me.  But, I didn't.  I fought my own battle.  Until that became an issue and then I apologized as I was told and suffered for years on end. 
I thought it MUST be me.  Because, you see, I had married the perfect guy.  Everyone says so.  He sings in choir and holds down a job.  He's a chore monster.  He even does dishes.  But he is hard hearted towards me.  He has always let me know that I don't measure up.  And, it's only now, in anonymity, that I'm able to say so.  Because it's shameful.  Because forgiving myself for covering up for him, for allowing him to be unkind, for trying to make him happy instead of living the blessed life I was given..........that's hard.  Because love means forgiving THEM.  Forgiving others.  But, what about forgiving myself?  Even if I am all of the things I've been judged to be.  He's right.....not a great housekeeper.  We differ on money as vastly as a fish and a cat do on water.  Both need it, but use it differently.  I should have known before we even married when he freaked out that I wanted to have my own bank account.  But he was the perfect guy....right?
I have to forgive myself that I can't live up to what he wants me to be and be happy.  I have tried every which way.  Seriously.  And now, I think that I need to be apart.  To have time to heal.  To sleep.  To breathe.  To not feel on edge every moment that I'm in my own house.  I don't know that I want a divorce.  I just need to know that I can be this person.  That I am allowed the grace that I will give others.  Without begging.  Without being made to feel that an exception is being made.  It's important to me.  Because, frankly, I am losing health both emotionally and physically and how things are has to end.
And he won't hear me.  Though I speak.  It always comes out that I'm unforgiving, or hard heated or uncommitted.  And, I guess I'll have to bear the labels.  Truly, they seem less hideous than the option of staying together at this point. 
Though he really is the perfect guy.  He's funny.  And a hard worker.  He is smart.  And good looking.  And, even tall....I know, I'm totally shallow.  But, I'm not for him.  I am not that woman.  The one that would make him smile easily.  Oh, I can make him laugh.  I can make an illusion of peace, but in reality, it's not me that makes him happy.  It's a persona that I've learned to take on to keep the peace.  But the role is wearing.  It's time to get off the stage and live in my real life clothes.
Can't wait to see what comes.  For, in the midst of the hardest times, the winds of grace continue to blow.  Giving strength and peace.  I sense that God is at work.  Even if it's painful work.  And His plans are for MY benefit as well as my husbands.......not one or the other.  So, I will trust him.