Dear HomeWrecker’s Mom,

I must say that I was more than a little surprised to open Facebook today and find a friend request waiting from you. I have never met you or spoken to you, and the only way you know who I am is that I’m the ex-wife of the man now engaged to your daughter.

I believe that the only way a sane human being would ever send a friend request under these circumstances is one operating under incorrect information (or to be more precise, misinformation). To believe that I would be amenable to any connection to the woman who had a hand in destroying my family, you would have to believe that no such thing happened.

That is, of course, not the case. But you will believe what you want to believe, and it’s unlikely anything that I say to you will do much to change that. I tried to give your daughter a heads up, and she refused it. I bear no guilt in allowing the natural consequences of her terrible decisions to play out on the grand stage of life. My hands are clean.

You and I are operating in incompatible realities; mine based on truth, and yours based on God-knows-what. Foundationally, I’m sure you’d agree those are not the makings of a sustainable friendship model.

The man who is father to your new grandbaby is, in reality, a lying, manipulative con-artist who you would never suspect in a million years of having a dishonest bone in his body. He is patriotic, ex-military, has old-school manners, is funny and seems kind. But that is a false persona. His true persona is that of a serial cheater, a chronic liar, and a narcissistic sociopath who lacks the ability to bond, empathize with others, or regulate his addictions. He is a selfish man-child that will subtly suck your daughter dry of her desire for a partner who does anything other than watch TV and play X-Box, and replace her with a hypnotized servant who will waste years of her life being loyal to the most disloyal human being alive. Oh, I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it. She most assuredly does.

When the day comes that his ‘great guy’ mask slips off, be prepared for the shock of your life. His true identity will be revealed to you, but more importantly, to your daughter. A year ago, this would have brought me joy. The mere thought of this man or woman getting to reap the harvest of what they’ve sown would have soothed my destroyed soul and given me a sliver of peace, but not now. Now I just feel disgust for both of them and a deep ache for possessing the foreknowledge of what is surely to become of their son. He is the innocent party in this, as are my 2 children. Sadly, he will likely get to experience the fallout of this selfish man’s gluttony and indifference and bear the lifelong emotional scars that come with the loss of a parent and an intact family.

Ask me how I’d know a little bit about that.

Believe it or not, these things are hard for me to say to you. I don’t want to be unkind, though I would be well within my right to be, given the words you wrote on Facebook about me. During the living hell that followed a trusted spouse cheating on me, blindsiding me, and abandoning me with zero warning with two babies in diapers, someone decided to post one of the cruelest and most vicious things anyone has ever said to or about me, with zero cause and absolutely no knowledge of the facts. In case you’ve forgotten, allow me to refresh your memory. That person was you.

STRING THE BITCH UP.

These were the words you posted on FaceBook alongside your adult daughter’s outlandish public temper tantrum regarding a private email I’d written to my wayward husband. In it, I told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of his character, and the character of a woman who would a) knowingly pursue a relationship with a married man with babies based on nothing more than his flimsy account of ‘unhappiness’, b) knowingly get involved with him with full knowledge that if they did form their unholy union, it would mean he’d have to move 2,300 miles away from those babies, leaving no option to co-parent or raise his own kids (married to me or not), c) be fully aware that he lied and cheated and that his spouse did not, but that it’s all somehow ok because she’s a special butterfly to which the rules of common decency do not apply (well, until those rules are broken against HER…then you’d better watch the hell out).

I can’t tell you how many hundreds of times your cruel words have run through my head. You know those Lifetime Television for Women movies where the innocent spouse who loves and trusts their husband endures these complex high-risk pregnancies to give him a family, and the whole time the audience knows he’s a liar and a serial cheater? And you just want to yell at the TV ‘Run, you idiot! How do you not see this?!’ Yah, that was me. That’s the bitch who ‘up your daughter should string’.

I wish they made a t-shirt for someone in my shoes. You could custom order one for me, if you’re so interested in my friendship. Have it read ‘I spent 14 years busting my ass for my husband and all I got was this lousy Facebook Comment!’

Or maybe you could fashion me a bumper sticker that reads STRING THE BITCH UP. Just kidding! Let’s be friends.

Perhaps you could fly here, punch me in the junk, and then invite me to your new grandchild’s baptism.

All make about as much sense as your friend request does.

Equally baffling is that my Facebook page is listed as public, so it can’t be some covert ‘Hey, let’s all be one big happy family!’ ruse to not-so-subtly disguise your desire to see my family photos and posts about how to make awesome microwave nachos.

I’d also like to point out the lunacy of this posting I found on your page after clicking on your name that craptastic day.

Ahhh, the irony!! The irony, it buuuurns!!

The polite, lay-down-and-take-it person that I used to be would have wanted to please you. That’s the person I was; always wanting calm, never wanting strife, always trying to bust my ass and please people to my own detriment.

That person doesn’t live here anymore.

The person who lives here now will tell you, in no uncertain terms, that your daughter is a despicable human being who believed her ‘happiness’ was more important than mine, and more important than my son or daughter being able to know what it’s like to grow up with a father. I will also tell you that her nasty, horrific, and cruel behavior towards me upon my discovery of her identity puts her into a category of human beings that I never want to sit next to on a park bench, let alone be forced to have around my children when their joke of a father blows into town once a year to play daddy.

In short, I want nothing to do with any family member of the human being that willfully interfered in the life of a married man with 2 babies in diapers at home. How you could believe I ever would is, frankly, a mystery. That is unless I ascribe the same level of batsh**-crazy to you that your daughter presently enjoys. If so, all of this will be lost on you anyway, but I will sleep a little more soundly tonight for having written it. At least that’s something.

I’m sorry (but not sorry) to be blunt, but I’ve just about had my fill of phonies to last me a lifetime. Sorry, all full up. No vacancies. Friend request DELETED.

Yours,

The Ex-Wife