An Open Letter To The Try Hard Who Has No Respect For My Marriage

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Hi there,

We haven’t met yet, and there’s a decent amount of reasons for that. Probably one of the biggest reasons, though, may be when you told my husband you “didn’t want to meet me”. That’s interesting.

Another reason is that you’re a wannabe actress, which means I probably won’t find you interesting, relatable, or smart. But I’ve been wrong before.

I’m not surprised that you’re attracted to my husband. Lots of women are. I’m not petty or small enough to get upset over every woman that thinks my husband is hot or embarrassingly slips their number to him at the bar. I’m too busy.

But you, you’re a special breed of shitty. You know that my husband is a taken man. You’ve seen the ring that I BOUGHT for him, you’ve heard him talk about me, you’ve been present while he spoke to me on the phone and told me he loved me. All the while you were trying to weasel your way into my life because you think you two share something together.

You’re not entirely incorrect. Acting is a huge part of my husband’s life, a passion of his that I don’t truly understand. While I support him 110%, that connection is something I can’t give to him. Make no mistake though, the part of his life that you two share does not make you important. It does not mean that I don’t exist. It does not give you the right to text, call, or otherwise communicate with a married man.

If you don’t understand your very, very small supporting role in my husband’s life, I’d be happy to break it down for you. You are a prop. You are not an actress- you’re just a girl who wants to be one. Your entire job in relation to my spouse is to make him look good. It’s to make agents and casting directors and audience members fall in love with him and pay him money. Your talents, your ambitions, and your feelings are not important and hold no value.

I am the person who will be there for him when he gets rejected, when he messes up, and when he falls short. I am also the person who will be there when he succeeds, when he shines, and when he celebrates. The part you play is irrelevant, and has no merit outside of the space you read lines in.

I love that my husband has female friends. I’ve met and spent time with many of them. But you are not a friend. You are not special. You are the kind of woman that disrespects good, happy, honest women. You are the kind of person that uses personal emotional stress to get close to and manipulate people- married people- instead of taking responsibility for your own behavior. It really is unfortunate that all of your exes were so unstable and mean to you, but they all had one thing in common, didn’t they?

It’s truly unfortunate that you don’t want to meet me, because you could see the tribe of amazing, intelligent, and honest women I surround myself with daily. My assumption is that you don’t have inspiring, strong women in your life, and that is a damn shame.

I feel sorry for you. I am irritated that precious time with my husband was wasted because we were too busy figuring out how to deal with your unprofessional behavior. I’m disappointed that the attention of an attractive man is more important to you than someone’s marriage. But truth be told, I’m okay with all you’ve tried to do, because this won’t be the last time some try hard actress thinks they mean something to my husband. You actually brought us closer together. You reminded me of how strong of a team we are. You helped us see again how much we support each other. You helped us communicate openly and honestly.

So congratulations. You are still a struggling “actress” and we’re still happily married. I hope you find a way to be happy, and I hope some stranger doesn’t try to take a shit all over that.

Best of luck, professional waitress.

-Kalee d’Avignon


Why My Blog Isn’t Funny Anymore


I started this blog over 2 years ago. I was in a really bad place and I knew I had to do something for myself; I knew I had to write because it’s not just what I do, it’s who I am. I  had to keep my hands and mind occupied because I knew that if I didn’t, things wouldn’t end well for me.

I was amazed how easy words came, how quick the rants and stories and allegories just fell out of me, like they’d be waiting so long for their moment. I didn’t go through life defining myself as an angry person. I didn’t think I needed help, and I let it roll of my shoulders when people told me I “looked mean” so often.

I had found my stride in this little corner of the writing world. People thought I was funny and honest. Every little thing that irritated me, that I was jealous of, that made me hurt- could be turned into 600 words and a funny meme that people liked. That was my purpose.

My life has changed so much that I feel like I’ve some how failed by writing wife-type blogs now. Like I caved in, drank the Kool-aid, and now I’m this lame Eat Pray Love person who has no original thoughts and just skips around through flower fields all day.

I’m still me, though. I don’t feel like I’ve changed. I feel like this Kalee, this happier, lighter Kalee has always been there, I just had no idea how to get to her. I somehow found a way to love without fear, to trust without holding a grudge, and to live without armor.

It’s all still there, don’t get me wrong, my defenses still come up sometimes when my husband and I fight. You’d be amazed how easy it is for me to find hurtful things to say, to find the quickest insecurity and shine a light on it. That part of me can gain strength.

But as I go through life today, a little bit frustrated that my posts are no longer funny, that I don’t care about people’s dating problems anymore and am no longer being irritated by babies and strollers, I know that I am newer. I know that this Kalee is the Kalee my family always saw, the teachers who believed in me always fought for. This is the me I begged for when I was too depressed to get out of bed, too alone to ask for help.

I think that’s kind of all anyone can hope for really, that they still feel like themselves, just lighter and brighter. I feel less prickly, more vulnerable. Less brave, more loving. Less independent, more welcoming. I am still searching for the balance, but anger leaves me much quicker now. I am a bit sad that my blog had to pay the price for that, but if a few snarky words are the casualties of my happiness then I will take that and be grateful.

If you are still in need of sassier writing, is hilarious.