The weirdest thing was not canceling the card but rather how long it took me to realize that I needed to do it.
It was barely hours after signing the papers for my divorce that I called up my bank and removed all my authorized users from my account. It took less than ten minutes to remove years of financial madness from my life.
I did not cheer myself. Not then, anyway. Instead, I just sat down at my dining room table and looked at the view of the Manhattan skyline while waiting for the guilt to come. And it never did.
Years of brainwashing me to feel guilty about things that were none of my responsibility, years of being made to think that I was supposed to solve everybody else’s issues. If Anthony’s business was having troubles, well, I was supposed to fix it. If his mother was after something fancy, she was to receive that from me.
The divorce made me ask myself a very simple question – why? Why did I spend money on people who hated my guts? Why did I support a lifestyle that I wasn’t even allowed to question? And lastly, why had I made myself believe that such an arrangement was normal?
The reality was hard to accept, but the truth was that everything had been gradual. It would have been impossible for anyone to wake up and decide to become another person’s ATM. Each small step led to the next – a gift turned into a regular expense, a favor became an obligatory payment, and so forth until the line blurred.
The first call I received was the following afternoon. I was reading through some campaign pitches when I received a call from Anthony. I had considered ignoring it, but my curiosity prevailed.
“Hello?”
“What did you do?” No greeting, no introduction; nothing but anger.
I leaned back in my chair. “What are you talking about?”
“My mother’s card was declined.”
Almost laughed. Of all the problems in the world, this one happened to be an emergency? “Sure.”
“What do you mean ‘sure’?” he replied. “She was shopping at Bergdorf’s. Her card was declined right there in front of everyone.”
“So what?”
He was quiet for a second. He hadn’t been expecting resistance. Years before, I would have jumped immediately into fixing everything so that nothing turned into a fight. This time, I waited.
He finally asked, “Don’t you think you should reactivate her account?”
The entitlement of his tone actually surprised me. But it didn’t shock me. It wasn’t a plea for help but a demand. Like we were still husband and wife. Like my paycheck went to everyone but me.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
And then his frustration boiled over instantly. The exact routine. The same old game plan. Except that this time, I had no interest in playing.
“Anthony, your mother is no longer my problem. If she needs luxury handbags and expensive lunch dates, she’ll have to take care of those with you.”
“You can’t just stop supporting her.”
“Sure I can.”
Then I hung up the phone. About ten seconds later I blocked him.
But it seemed like there was still more to come. I guess I misjudged them both.
The following morning, someone was at my door just before seven. It wasn’t knocking; it was banging. I assumed at once that something terrible must have happened. A fire. An emergency of some sort at the building.
It turned out it was Eleanor. Suddenly, all of my worries were gone.
“Open this door!” Bang! “Marissa, don’t you even think of ignoring me.”
I got out of bed and looked at the ceiling. For years, that voice had the power to make me anxious. Not anymore. I got dressed, walked down the hallway, and checked the peephole.
She was there. Beautiful hair. Designer scarf. Designer coat. Angry face. Anthony was standing next to her looking miserable, which seemed to be his default expression when his mother acted badly.
I opened the door but left the security chain on. The space between the door and the wall was only a few inches. But that was all I needed.
As soon as she saw me, she began lecturing. “How dare you humiliate me?”
My response was one that surprised them both. “Good morning to you as well.”
“Are you playing around here?”
“Eleanor, this isn’t a joke, do you understand that?”
“I will not allow it,” Anthony interjected.
“What?”
“Can we come inside?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
What I was saying didn’t make sense to them since all they were used to was access. They’ve been coming into my house for years. Telling me what was wrong with my furniture, with my schedule, even with my career choices. Now they were standing outside my apartment and that’s precisely where they belonged.
Eleanor pointed her finger at me. “You owe this family.”
My lips curled upward a little. That’s what all this came down to. Not gratitude or appreciation, but debt, and an imaginary one. The debt that meant whatever they desired was okay because they were owed.
“I owe this family?”
“Given everything we have endured.”
That one really got me laughing. It wasn’t polite laughter, nor a pleasant one.
“Enderured?”
“You don’t show any respect.”
“Endured?” I echoed her. “Eleanor, I paid your bills for years.” Eleanor’s face twisted, and I went on. “Fixing roofs. Car leases. Doctor visits. Vacation trips. Shopping outings. Meals out.”
Anthony shuffled around. I saw him do that. So did Eleanor.
“What is she talking about?” she asked her son.
No response. Interesting. At that moment, something clicked for me. She doesn’t really know it all. She doesn’t know the facts. For many years now, she has been living the life without ever wondering where the money came from. Or perhaps she simply never cared. Regardless, it would soon come out into the open.
I moved towards the entry table and picked up one folder. Not at all exciting, just files. Files with bank records, transfer history, financial statements—facts. Some of the most unemotional pieces of information in the world. But at the same time, the ones that cause the most emotion.
“I took some time looking over the finances during my divorce.”
Anthony’s demeanor instantly changed; he became very nervous indeed. This attracted Eleanor’s immediate attention.
“Anthony?”
Silence spoke volumes.
I opened the folder. “Do you want to know why he is so angry?”
“Marissa…”
“No, we need an honest conversation for once.”
His color drained from his face, but I kept talking. “When you complained about my working hours and told everyone that I paid too much attention to my business, your son was secretly spending money linked to my business.”
Eleanor looked puzzled. She looked worried. Then horrified. It happened within a matter of seconds. “Money? What money?”
I stared straight into Anthony’s eyes. “Explain it to her.” But since he didn’t want to, because cowards don’t reveal their skeletons easily, I spoke for him.
And I told her about how her son’s failing business had stayed alive. About the money that was going where it wasn’t supposed to. How I did everything to maintain appearance long after reality didn’t match it. There had been nothing illegal that hadn’t been resolved, but financially it was a tale he didn’t want his mother to know.
She was in a complete state of shock. The kind that takes years of surety right out of you.
“You told me everything was fine.”
He looked at his feet.
“You told me business was booming.”
Not a word. She had faced him fully. For the first time in a long while, I wasn’t their center of focus. I was nearly invisible. They had found their center. It was him.
Their ensuing discussion wasn’t mine. I listened for a little bit before butting in. “Both of you need to leave.”
They made no reply, so I said it again. “I don’t want to hear another word from either one of you.”
He looked up at me. “Marissa…”
“No.” Just one word. Strong. Effective. Empowering. “No financial support, no emergencies, no demands, no entry.” I stepped backwards. “If either one of you tries to come back here ever again, I’m not answering the door.”
And then, I shut the door.
The hallway exploded into accusations and shouting. I left before hearing anymore. For the first time in years, their mess didn’t become mine.
The following months brought about changes I didn’t see coming.
I had better sleep, I found laughter again, I checked my phone without anxiety, and I didn’t speculate on what kind of financial disaster might become my responsibility. Most importantly, I didn’t shrink down to make room for those who never gave me my space.
