I’d been with my then partner for about 4 years, should have been used to his materialistic ways. The newest gadget out was always his latest purchase. Whether it was useful or not. The latest in the line was a new car, a Vectra. We’d had a convertible, but with winter closing in, I was grateful of this new toy. I never knew it would eventually be the toy I used to my advantage for revenge.
My birthday was fast approaching; he’d promised me I was in for a nice surprise. I racked my brain for ideas of what it could be, asked questions for hours trying to guess to no avail. The only clue was we would be out for most of the day and it was quite expensive. I was for the first time in ages excited. He’d never bought me lavish gifts for birthdays, Christmas or gone anywhere together alone as a couple.
The day finally arrived, I spent the morning with my family and my children which in itself was fantastic but the butterflies in my tummy with the excitement of what the day was going to bring was distracting. In the car on the motorway he still wouldn’t tell me where we were going. I started feeling nervous, I’m not one for surprises and the thought that I may be surrounded by lots of people I dont know or doing something maybe that was out of my comfort zone was becoming overwhelming..
Before I knew it we were in Manchester, through the city centre, onto the outskirts. He pulled over outside a garage type place in the middle of what was to me, nowhere. To myself I thought ‘yeh great were lost . He got out of the car and went and spoke to a man there then disappeared inside.
He was gone ages
To say I wasn’t amused is an understatement ‘I just love sitting in a car, somewhere I don’t know where I am on my birthday,’. I fumed. I was beginning to wish I’d stayed at home.
A further 10 minutes later he came out of the garage carrying 2 tyres followed by another man carrying 2 more. The smile on his face was beaming, like a child on Christmas morning, the look I was so very used to when he’d bought a new toy. It dawned on me. This whole day was about him and his new alloy wheels, not me, not my birthday.
The emotions ran through me, anger, sadness, hurt, disappointment and there was anger again. He got in the car and had the audacity to say ‘surprise’. He had gone too far this time. We argued all the way back home, stopping for my ‘birthday meal’ at a McDonald’s restaurant. The rest of the journey was in silence.
The day after he would be leaving to go to work for 2 weeks and for the first time in all the years we’d been together and him working away, I was glad he was going. At home I was still fuming. You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife and then the call came from his friend to go out for a few pints. Off he went, I’d never felt so, used, undervalued and down. I wanted him to feel how I felt. Sorting his bags out for leaving, yes I was still expected to do his washing and packing, it hit me.
He was allergic to Bold washing powder, could I get my revenge?
Hell yes I could and did
He left the next morning with us still not talking; I never received a call that night or the day after. That second evening it came. ‘There’s something wrong. I have a nasty rash everywhere. I’ve been scratching in my sleep last night and everything from my waist down is like open blisters’. Guilty?
Yes I felt guilty. Only for a few minutes though, the rest of the night I laughed like I never had in months. To this day he still doesn’t know what I did but to be honest I don’t care even if he did.
Was I wrong?
This confessional post was written anonymously by a mum who is a member of my Facebook mums group. I have full permission to share her story. If you would like to share your own confession please contact me.
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