#89 WHAT HAPPENED TO BENOIT? AKA MY FIRST/EX-HUSBAND AND THE FOURTH PERSON I MET AT STARBUCKS

How he got everything he wanted and I was left holding the pieces of my life (but it's all sorted now)

I was on my first holiday with Michael when photos popped up of Benoit’s new girlfriend, Jessica. She was and still is a social media ghost – a fact I am sure thrills Benoit – so I really have no information to impart per se except the limited bits I was told by Benoit and some of my Germany ladies, but I was with Michael and happy so I didn’t want to pry for information that really wasn’t my business.

Jessica and Benoit. She is very beautiful. I recall being stabbed with jealousy at how thin and fit she looks – and how smug his smile was.

I moved to England in June 2016 and Benoit remarried in August 2017. I heard rumour he’d only known her five months when she fell pregnant, so it may or may not have been coincidental that he’d mentioned some other ‘Jessica’ in passing when we’d moved to Minnesota.

I saw the photos of their wedding, surrounded by his nephews and nieces, when I was on holiday in Sweden and Denmark with Grammy. I felt a stab to the heart thinking I was replaced by someone ‘better.’

My former mother-in-law posted the wedding photo. FB very kindly popped it right on my feed. I got a sort of sinking feeling. It felt a bit like, um, that was a bit fast. Um, okay.

Jessica represented everything I was not and could never be.

Jessica is a blonde, thin, beautiful nurse practitioner who he once told me earned more than him (and by this point, he was earning a lot). They have three houses and a nanny. I presume she succeeds in all the ways I fail. She certainly ‘bounced back’ or looks thin in the limited exposure of photos I’ve seen of her.

They’ve since had three children and she had a daughter from what I presume is a previous relationship or marriage. She changed her name to his. They even named their first daughter after his mother – as he always wanted – and I think after two tries they finally had a son.

After his marriage, I unfriended him and his family on social media for my own mental health. I figured they’d all be too polite to unfriend me and they weren’t really interested anyway.

After the tearful airport call, his mother never did get in touch with me again.

Benoit by all accounts did well in his career. At first, the company he’d moved to Minnesota to work for was sold to Tesla and they took on all of the existing employees, but as we all now know what an absolute maniac Musk is, after acquisition, he laid off all the senior engineers, of which Benoit was one affected. At first, Benoit seemed to be living the high life, with his perfect wife, and adorable family, borrowing Tesla cars to drive as employees were allowed to do.

He also got his pilot’s license and graduated with an MBA. Levelled up in every way.

I feel that our marriage was just a blip to Benoit, a mild inconvenience, like taking out the trash, a long-forgotten memory of the time he was married to that woman who was not the right sort of wife at all.

In contrast – and as much as I hate this sort of narrative or Benoit having any level of power over me in the past – I’ve been damaged and undone by this relationship and have had to have therapy, distance, and years to heal, years with a partner who is nothing like this, who truly does love me for things that make me me, the essence of me, and not the physicality or any perceived monetary or status gain – a journey that only Michael knows I’ve taken as in the face of it to many friends who knew us at that time it looked as if “I took everything so well and moved on with grace.”

Farewell, Benoit, and image you guys have seen far too many times.

I very much wanted to be that person, never to air my dirty laundry or trauma, but in doing so it has been healing, for me at least.

And although at times I have felt resentful that he rode off into the sunset with absolutely everything and he got the exact life he wanted, I am reminded that I got to build my life on my own terms this time, too.

It has taken longer, but I am on my way to getting everything I ever wanted to and then some. I have so many things for which I am eternally grateful and the top of the list is my secure, safe, happy, loyal, intelligent, sexy, kind, beautiful husband, Michael.

Our official divorce date

As was Benoit’s style it would have been too kind for him to let me know when the paperwork was filed for our divorce. I had to find out when the official court papers were mailed to me. I remember going over to visit my Dad and him telling me that Benoit had sent me something in a brown envelope. Benoit’s precise capital lettering, written in fine-tipped Sharpie. When I opened up the tab, I found that in December 2016, our marriage had officially ended and this is what I wrote on Facebook about it (you know that place where Benoit said I was unhealthily obsessed? Joke’s on you, Benoit. FB is totally uncool now, apparently):

In the least articulate manner I begin: [Benoit] and I are now officially divorced. As many of you know, this path was never one I would have chosen; I thought we had been happy, and had no idea our marriage was on the verge of ending without chance of reconciliation, or even a chance to work on what were--in my mind--entirely fixable problems. As far as I was concerned, I would have been married for life. Many who know me and knew us, knew just how much I adored, loved to distraction, and respected [Benoit], a man who could do anything, fix anything, and build anything. But to [Benoit] love was not enough. I wish [Benoit] happiness and peace in the future, and that he will one day find the kind of love he seeks.

So pathetic!

Thank you for those who supported me during my roughest time. For my Mum who was there through it all--when I could barely get out of bed or eat. For Grammy who was there through the night when I couldn't sleep, night after night, on the phone with me, supporting me from afar. For Sarah and Anna who helped me gain perspective, and a glimmer of hope and happiness. To the ladies from my Germany life who listened to me over and over again too. For Brooke and Tim who were a big help, and support. For my English family who have taken me in, made sure I didn't go without, and continued to support me as I have learned to live a life that is new to me. Words seem trite here, but I couldn’t have faced life without the support of all these people, and many I’ve not mentioned too.

One of the hardest parts of it all is not just losing [Benoit], but losing his family too. To my sweet, wonderful mother-in-law, [name], and my late father-in-law, [name]: thank you for welcoming me into your family with open arms and love as the only non-Lebanese member. When [father-in-law] first met me he hugged me and said, “Welcome to the family” and that meant a great deal to me. I'll be sad not to be part of this wonderful, kind, genuine, and caring group of people. I will miss [Benoit]'s nieces and nephews who I had the pleasure of seeing grow over the last few years; I know you'll all grow up to be successful and kind-hearted individuals. And to my brothers and sisters-in-law, thank you again for being welcoming, and just fun people to spend time with. [Benoit] truly is lucky to have such a lovely family, and I know they’ll be there to support him.

I can’t remember if I’d unfriended his family at this point but they conveniently ignored my post.

In time I hope I will understand it all from the new vantage of success and happiness, something I hope to build for myself. But for now, even though I have many things in life for which I am thankful (being around the majority family and some of my oldest friends in England), life is still a struggle for me emotionally. For the first time, I’m struggling with bouts of depression and despondency. Finding a job in England has not been easy despite my efforts, and I hope the New Year will bring renewed luck.

And now to M, who has been there when I still needed a good cry, and who has been wonderfully understanding through all of it all as my heart recovers from its blow. I’m not sure the heart ever fully recovers, but life never stops moving forward.

Goodbye to my old life, and hello to the new life I will build.

Why didn’t I want to see the red flags?

In hindsight, it’s very easy to enumerate the red flags I missed, the ways I was unhappy when I thought I wasn’t, the things my ex-husband did wrong, identify all the ways our marriage could and should have been improved with good communication and so forth, but I did plenty wrong myself. Mostly, I didn’t foster a partnership either. I took slights and hurts and withdrew into myself, expecting my ex to read my mind. No one can read your mind.

And again, I see the marriage through a different lens – thanks to therapy – one of emotional abuse and manipulation and no amount of anything I did was going ever to make Benoit happy with me.

Although I’d argue that I was supportive to Benoit where he maintained I was not, I didn’t understand as his father was dying, the complexities of this sort of parent relationship where his father loved him but he was always searching for validation, for his father to say he’d done well and he was proud of him. Him being an officer in the US Army was not what he wanted for his son.

Lebanese sons were meant to be doctors, engineers, businessmen. His sons-in-law were doctors, his younger son was a successful businessman, and despite the career making him happy, Benoit, his middle son, had been an engineer (to please his father) but he had followed his own dreams and since then he’d been searching for validation from his father (all my interpretation, of course). I didn’t understand how when he and his father weren’t close – not like I was close with my family – how he could be so devastated. (Which is a dick move on my part.)

I see now that maybe his father’s diagnosis triggered a midlife crisis and that’s why he went into engineering again. He thought he could make his father proud, but the thing about people like that, parents like that, is that they will never tell you even if they are proud. And doing it after the fact wasn’t going to make him happy.

Another WTAF moment

At some point with some internet sleuthing (i.e. trying to make sense of what the fuck had happened to me for four years), I found that Benoit had set up some kind of CouchSurfing profile the year we met. In 2012. When exactly had he had time for this CouchSurfing hobby? Insert imaginary, “I’m sorry, what?” meme.

Profile pic was also one I had taken myself when were in Amsterdam. Sigh! With all things Benoit, it is probably best not to know.

I'm sorry, wtaf?

Profile reading, “I am very friendly and a light traveller just looking for a place to crash since I will be roaming around all day.” Um, you conveniently forgot you have a wife, mate.

When did you go for your roaming-around-all-day time? Where was I exactly? Was this when he was working at the embassy in Prague for that month or when he was off on various missions? He was listing our then-current location in Weiden in der Oberpfalz, Germany, so it wasn’t like he could have argued it was a long-forgotten profile. He also listed some (but not all) of the countries to which we’d travelled – together.

Interests: “skiing, biking, reading and my only vice smoking cigars.” Missing commas aside, I mean he had a bike, but I never really saw him ride it more than twice maybe?

Skiing, of course, he conveniently went a couple of times without me despite my asking to go.

Reading. He definitely read. Quite a number of books actually, which was good. Military thrillers mostly. And cigars. Also an expensive hobby.

He was also partial to pricey scotch as well as costly suits, ties, and shoes (think Ferragamo, Hermes, and Façonnable, a brand I’d never heard of but filled his wardrobe).

Was he just really good at manipulation or was I a total idiot? Wait, don’t answer that.

Reflections

As I’ve said before, my therapist, Lorraine, told me in a session the other week that instead of the narrative that my ex figuratively rode off into the sunset with everything and left me with nothing, where I had to rebuild my life from scratch, to reframe it as a gift.

Take back that narrative! Reframe, forgive, let go, snip all the badness away.

What Benoit really gave me was FREEDOM.

Freedom from a life I didn’t want.

Freedom from a life where I had no agency, no choice, no autonomy.

Freedom from a life where I was seen as never good enough, blamed for all the ways I failed to live up to his expectations.

I’ve come a long way in eight years. I don’t just mean financially and in my career, but emotionally too. I’ve grown in ways I could not have imagined or perhaps, in ways I couldn’t have hoped possible.

Benoit has some traits that I admired such as being good with children and animals, loving his family, and his many talents in the engineering, tinkering, building, and fixing realm. I think I held onto those notions in my head, thinking he was this wonderful, amazing man and I’d fucked it all up and lost him; however, I was not happy and we were simply incompatible. It was a failed marriage but I wasn’t a failure. I just needed the right partner.

Mostly, as with all people I’ve dated in the past – or in this case, married and divorced – I do wish them well. Of course, that extends to Benoit.

I hope that Benoit, Jessica, and their children are happy and content. I hope Benny treats Jessica as she deserves to be treated. I loved his family and I hope his siblings and niblings are all thriving, too. I’ll, perhaps, never fully understand this chapter in my life – and I’ve done enough excavating – but it doesn’t really matter as the English expression goes “I’m well shot of it,” which essentially means “I’m better off.”

I got the life I wanted and didn’t know I needed with the husband (Michael) who makes my heart happy; Benoit got the life he wanted, too, as far as I know.

And I no longer know because I last heard from him in 2020 when I was asking if he managed to find that last $1k he owed me (obvs, he couldn’t, lots of excuses, the economy, he’d paid more than he ‘agreed,’ he had children, he wasn’t in a position now, etc) and a mention about how Karen was up to her usual toxic shit.

At various points – but very sparingly – we exchanged pleasantries. (Naturally, I communicated with Michael when these messages happened.) Benoit congratulated me on my upcoming nuptials to Michael and I complimented him on his beautiful family – and we left it at that.

Coming up next, the chapter you’ve all been waiting for (maybe) – one I’m very excited to write about now that we are FINALLY finished talking about Benoit – how I met my Yorkshire husband, Michael.

The Why We (meaning Michael and I) Met is coming full circle. But don’t worry (although you probably aren’t), Michael provides lots of fodder to write about (hopefully much shorter than previous chapters because it’s just a continuum and not an end).

New here or haven’t followed from the beginning, why don’t you catch up on the other eighty-eight chapters I’ve written, including the one on why I’m writing these chapters in the first place – with the odd “present day snippet” of what is happening in my world lately.

Any thoughts or anything to share? I’d love for you to hit the like button and leave a comment.

#90 HOW I MET MY YORKSHIRE HUSBAND: PART ONE