2001-05-22 - 11:42 a.m.

I was discussing this with one of my girlfriends last night, and I was saying that I was never really a car person anyway. And she said, "Oh, yeah. I remember from that car thing."

That car thing - when I was married, after we bought our first house, we only had one car. My ex insisted that it was ridiculous to have two car payments when I took the train to the city every day (distance between my house and train station - .25 miles) so he bought a station car. A used old Datsun that smelled like patchouli oil. I hated that thing. And he pretty much appropriated the other car for his own - the plan was that we would share it on weekends - the reality was that he'd go off playing golf all day, so I barely ever got it. Anyway, this whole thing was obviously a huge power struggle between us, but this was not visible to the general public. We argued about new car vs. old hippie mobile - part of my issue was that he just bought that car without consulting me. But I backed down, because logically, he was right. We were saving a lot of money with only one payment.

Then, one Christmas, he decides that he's going to get me a car. So he shows up with a beautiful blue Jetta to "surprise me. " Turns out he was the one surprised, when I threw a hissy fit. All my friends told me what a bitch I was being, that I should be so happy that he bought me a new car.

Well, screw that. First of all, I worked. I earned half the income in that household, and it burned me up that he was going to make all the decisions, no matter what I said or thought. Secondly, it was a stick. I don't know how to drive a stick. Not that it's a big deal, I could learn that. It was the principle. He wasn't thinking of me at all, buying that car. Well, a little he was. But mostly he was being a big shot, buying the little woman a car for Christmas, and basically getting whatever he wanted, rather than caring what my preferences were. I'd rather have him buy me a book that I loved, or a sweater I'd been coveting but wouldn't buy for myself. Something that mattered to ME.

And it was his way of keeping the upper hand. It looked like such a nice thing he was doing, when really he was belittling me. Making me feel that, no matter my contribution, I'd get what I wanted when he said so.

So after I turned it in, we bought a vintage Porsche. For me, to make up. And yes, I wanted it. And then, he started trying to control that too. "It's pouring rain. You're going to drive that car to the train station and leave it in the rain all day?" It's a CAR. That's what it's for - to get places. No point in having it if I can only drive it in optimal conditions. And then that became another battle. (well, same battle, actually) So then I got another car. Leased it. Because the ex didn't want me to decrease the VALUE of the Porsche. And the day I went to lease it, he tried to put his name on the lease. And I said, no, I'll do it myself. And afterwards, I realized that I knew then. That it wasn't going to work, that I was going to have to leave before he actually accomplished the smashing to bits of my self esteem.

And when we got divorced, we were fighting over the Porsche - he wanted me to buy him out of half - so I sold it, cheap, and split the proceeds with him. To show him that money wasn't MY God. And next week I turn in the leased car, the last vestige of my marriage, and my old life. Good riddance.

I'd rather take a cab, anyway.

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