Sarah Croft is nothing but a sparkly dog turd. Oh she may appear to have it all – married to a hunky firefighter, a cool job fixing humvees as a mechanic in the military, and a unique hobby of being a NPC fitness competitor. You know, the kind of “model” that struts around on stage in stilettos and a sequined thong bikini raising up her backside so the judges can rate her badly spray tanned a**? Well anyway, she’s had another hobby, too – wrecking my home.
She knew my husband was married when she started pursuing him. She knew I was pregnant with our 3rd child when she started flirting shamelessly with him, calling and texting and bringing cookies to his work. And by the time I had just had our 4th child and I was completely overwhelmed by juggling the demands of the baby and the toddler – all the diapers, sleepless nights, and breastfeeding – with the demands of homeschooling the two older kids – running them to all their activities, teaching co-op classes, etc. – their work “friendship” had evolved enough that she knew the struggles my husband and I were experiencing in our marriage. She saw an opportunity and she pounced. She started crying to my husband about how her own husband was so neglectful of her, mean to her, how he didn’t appreciate her. And in an ironically twisted sense of chivalry, my husband felt the need to “rescue” her from her loneliness. Of course, I was the wife who was actually lonely, since my husband was constantly making excuses for why he had to “work” in the Houston office where she was, leaving me alone to keep things running smoothly at home, yet meanwhile she had both her own husband as well as mine to take her out, tell her how beautiful she was, buy her gifts, and of course screw her.
By the time I wised up to what was happening it was too late, he’d already been d***-deep in an affair with her for several months. In fact, she’d spent so long spewing hateful things about me that when I told my husband I thought I had appendicitis he didn’t believe me because SHE said I must be lying as a “desperate and pathetic plea for attention.” When I finally dragged myself into the hospital 4 days (!!!) later, they confirmed that not only had I been walking around and taking care of the house and kids with acute appendicitis but also had a ruptured ovarian cyst as well. This is just one of many, many, many examples of how messed up my husband’s thinking was while under her influence. When I was reading the texts between them, the one thing that really bothered me was the cruel way she ridiculed my being overweight. Of all the terrible stuff she said, that was the only thing that had any truth to it, so of course it hurt. Especially since she’s 10 years younger than me, 4 inches taller, has never had any kids, and has disposable time and money to spend on herself that I will never have.
But then I realized (thank you chumplady.com) that this is NOT a competition. She may think it is, because having an affair with a married man validates her narcissism, but the reality is that she willingly cheated on her own husband to have an affair with mine – the man I’d been together with for 20 years, married for 19 of those years, and have 4 kids with – and that makes her nothing but a dog turd. She may be covered in pretty frosted sprinkles but her essence is, and likely always will be, that of dog turd. And she knows it, so she’ll continue as she’s always done, drowning her insecurities in alcohol and the flatteries of men to help her overlook the fact that she’s completely devoid of morals, a decent personality, and any sense of humanity. Meanwhile, I will hold my head high knowing that I was always 100% faithful to my husband, that I have these amazing kids that bless me with a kind of love that she’s too selfish to ever know, and that I’m devoting my time and efforts to raising my family well, which is more noble and worthwhile than anything she’ll ever accomplish. Because a sparkly dog turd is still just a pile of crap.
