It's Kind of a Long Story... about MY SISTER EXES (Part VII)

I meet my last Sister Ex, and things get dark.

EDITED TO ADD:

After this dropped, a reader let me know right away that I come off as not compassionate about Tracy’s story.

She’s right. As I was this summer, I caught up in the story. The drama.

I am so grateful for the feedback. For the opportunity to take a look at myself. The chance to know better and do better.

If you or someone you know is the victim of domestic abuse, please call 800-799-7233

or visit thehotline.org

Lara

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TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains discussion of domestic violence and abuse.

Hey Drama Goblins!

I’m writing this on New Year’s Day. 2024 is spread out before me like a blank slate.

And, there’s some unfinished business from ‘23.

Including the Sister Ex story.

There will be one more post after this one, the cinematic and surreal conclusion.

I’m looking forward to writing about other things, and also nervous that readers won’t be as into stories that aren’t as juicy.

Weathering the waxing and waning of readers’ interest is what I signed up for when I signed up for Substack and put myself and my writing out there. I can take responsibility for that choice, and also feel scared and weird and vulnerable.

I’d like to share something I wrote on New Year’s Day two years ago:

Things change. Often in unexpected ways. As I sit here thinking back to previous New Year's Days, I realize I have NO IDEA what the years have in store for me.

If you'd asked me where I thought I'd be 5 from now 5 years ago, I never could have predicted where I am. As with most things, that's a mixed bag.

May your plans come to be.

May you embrace the unexpected.

May your inner and outer resources support you through the chasm between what you hope for and what happens.

I’m so glad you’re here,

-Lara

Fox Force Five

Short story: 

I reached out to Tracy, the last Sister Ex I would connect with. She told me her story, which was dark and upsetting. She wasn’t down to stay connected. She’s a real person, not a character in my story.

Long story:

Summer of 2023 was… so many things. In August, I took an FMLA mental health leave. (which I wrote about here) It was easy to slip into the rhythms of days not obligated to work and commuting, and also very, very difficult to mentally adjust to the idea that it was OK to do.

And, it was the summer I dove into connecting with my Sister Exes and reconstructing the story of what the last five years of my life really were, and who the man I spent them with really was. I was hungry for as much truth as I could get to counteract the lies. It felt… necessary. Essential. What I needed to do to move forward.

And, I can’t deny it was kind of fun. I read a lot of Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden as a kid, and just like Looney Tunes led us to believe that quicksand would be a bigger issue than it turned out to be in adult life, those books set me up to believe that mystery and intrigue were around every corner and that a plucky girl could solve the case.

I was also aware that my Sister Exes were all sprinkled in a light layer of Skittle Dust. Chatting with them gave me a similar rush to the one I used to get from being with Cris when we were together, and the intermittent texts from him when we weren’t. It was endorphins or dopamine or adrenaline or whatever it is that flips those switches in our brains and gives us the sweet, sweet hits we crave.

So it wasn’t will a small amount of giddiness that I told Susan, Monika, and Crystal that Tracy had agreed to talk to me. I joked that we’d gone from Charlie’s Angels to Fox Force Five.

I should have been more tipped off than I was when it took us a few weeks from when I first reached out on Facebook for us to talk on the phone. She was open to talking, but not eager. Her inner Girl Detective wasn’t kicked into gear by a mysterious message from a stranger the way mine was.

When we did talk, she seemed a bit hesitant at first. I told her briefly what brought me to call her, and she paused and said, “He beat the shit out of me.”

These are some of the notes I made after our phone call:

He choked me.

He beat me up.

He kicked me.

I called the cops on him, and he convinced me not to pursue it.

A lot of people looked out for me and protected me. I asked friends to come get me, he convinced me not to go.

He’s evil. Sick. A bad person. An asshole. A motherfucker. Manipulative. A snake. Scum of the earth. A user. Takes advantage of women. An ugly, ugly person. No remorse. Not a good human being.

He would get a dark, black look in his eye when he was out of control. 

He was my first love. We dated in LA and when I was kind of done with LA and decided to move to Seattle. He said, “I’m coming too.” My friends told me not to move with him. They thought he was an asshole.

We went in my car (of course) He didn’t have anything. We had no money.

She said he was “the most hated man in Seattle.” He had told me that too. He made it seem like he earned that moniker because he was in competition with other rave promoters and ecstasy dealers, not because he was a violent abuser.

I told her he had a nickname for her too, and that it wasn’t kind. She asked what it was. I said, “Racy Tracy.”

She laughed and said, “Everyone called me ‘Racy Tracy.’ It was a nickname I got from my 3rd grade teacher because I ran around a lot. I had a lot of energy.”

Cris definitely used the nickname with a sexual connotation, which in retrospect I can see is in keeping with a pattern of misogyny.

They were together for four years, from 1990 to 1994, which would have been about from ages 22 to 26ish.

It may be hard for someone who hasn’t been in a relationship like this to understand, but I definitely did when she said, “It was a great time. We had a lot of experiences and adventures.” Those things can absolutely co-exist with abuse and manipulation.

“He was so much fun. Smart. Romantic. He’d convince you it would never happen again. I was so low I believed him when he turned it on me and said it was my fault.”

She also said they had “a lot of threesomes.”

“Were you the one he was in with Deee-lite?”

“What???

“He told me he was in a threesome with someone and Lady Miss Keir. I *thought* it was you. He did say she was more into his girlfriend than him.”

“That’s a lie! Lady Miss Keir? No way!”

She said his parents, who had moved from Southern California to Seattle to be closer to him, loved her. They thought she was good for him. They bought her expensive clothes and gifts.

This didn’t jibe with what he told Susan, which was that his parents hated all of his exes.

Tracy said she and Cris had no money. She wanted to be a dancer to earn some good, quick money. He wouldn’t let her. She would ask her grandmother for money to pay the rent. 

The weekend Monika came to see him, he told Tracy that a friend was coming to visit and he wanted some one-on-one time with her. She knew the friend was a woman, she didn’t know it was a sexual/romantic relationship. She went to her grandmother’s for the weekend. 

A week later, she was bleeding. She had chlamydia.

She always thought of Monika as “the woman who gave me chlamydia.” Monika doesn’t recall having had chlamydia back then. It’s possible, and also more than possible it was someone else.

Cris told Monika that Tracy was his fiance. That was (another) lie. They were never engaged. 

She was surprised that Cris had mentioned her. She hadn’t thought about him in a long time. I told her he talked about her and all of his exes a lot.

That said even though she hasn’t had a lot of luck in love, she is happy and not a “man-hater.” She’s educated, has a good career, and a wonderful 18-year-old son.

I told her about the upcoming Caftans & Casseroles party, and that Susan and Monika were going to be there. She seemed somewhat into the idea of coming, and if not might be open to being on Facetime for a group photo.

Before we hung up, she said I was brave for reaching out. Monika had said that too. I appreciated it, but I didn’t feel brave. It wasn’t hard or scary for me to reach out to them. I had nothing to lose. The worst they could do was not respond.

And I was in it. I don’t know how else to describe it. I was involved in a caper. I was living a movie. I was vibrating with Main Character Energy.

A few days later, I messaged Tracy to thank her for talking with me, and to check in on her, and that I hoped the call hadn’t been too upsetting.

She said no, she found it “amusing” and gave an enthusiastic “thank you!” when I sent the link for the Caftans party.

A week or so later, I followed up about the party and asked for her address to send her a little gift to thank her for her time. She didn’t reply. I let it go.

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Unlike Susan, who is a genuine IRL friend, Monika, whom I have plans to meet up with in LA in a couple of weeks, and Crystal, whom I am Facebook/texting friends with, this Sister Ex wasn’t interested in joining our circle.

Susan hanging out with my friends and family over Christmas

Sister Ex sisterhood, like all friendships, falls on a spectrum from acquaintance to bestie. Sometimes the connection is only as long as a phone call to check dates and stories and offer confirmation and validation. Sometimes they girl-gang up to confront the bastard. Sometimes real bonds are formed that transcend the connection over their mutual mistake.

I am grateful that Tracy offered me what she did. And respect her for setting a boundary that served her.

Of course, the Drama Goblin in me can’t deny I was disappointed she wouldn’t be at the Caftans & Casseroles party and in the group photo. It would have been *such* a good story! But, real life doesn’t play out like a podcast.

You, dear reader, will feel like you had been at that party after next week’s post. The grand finale.

I’ll bet you know someone who would get something out of that story. Click the green “share” button to send it to them!

Lara sez…

Listen!

80s Deep Cut of the Week! This infectious song other than it earworms its way into my head more often than anyone - even Strawberry Switchblade themselves - would think.

Read!

You can’t go wrong with any of Elinor Lipman’s books, which I often describe as non-insipid Chick Lit, but you might as well start with Ms. Demeanor.

Follow!

My friend Tina sends up dating app dudes at @YouGetToDoThat and I LOVE that that’s what she calls it. How many times do we tell ourselves we “can’t” do that? (whatever “that” is for you) Yes, you can. Not always without consequences, but you can.

Eat!

I made this Sheet Pan Chicken Gnocchi and Broccoli Rabe and DIDN’T BOIL THE GNOCCHI! It came out flavorful and crisp and tender and I am never eating gnocchi any other way again.

Before I let you go…

My pal Denise shared my Substack on her social and won a Drama Goblin notebook!

Be like Denise!

For a chance to win your own Drama Goblin notebook, please SHARE It’s Kind of a Long Story About… with someone you think would like to read it.

Someone…

• You think would get a kick out of it

• In a Sister Ex sitch

• Dating someone you have a funny feeling about

• Super into Jon Hamm

Or share it on your social!

If you use this button, BOOM! You’re entered.

If you forward the email, please “cc” or “bcc” me at: lara@larastarr.com

Thank you so much and I hope you win!