I wrote this experience up a few months ago and got some excellent responses and I hope it was helpful to a few people. The thread got wiped out by a glitch somewhere along the way, so I'm reposting in case it's of interest to others.
(original)
I’m posting this at the behest of asdfk and Drix, two fine gentlemen I met up with in Lima and we shared excellent food and conversation. I told them about my Filipina experience and they encouraged me to share it here.
A few months after 9-11 I was new to the airline industry and still part of an air force reserve squadron. I took a leave of absence from the airline as the squadron was activated and sent to Turkey. After the initial excitement of the deployment wore off a lot of my squadron mates began playing around on match.com in their spare time. I had experimented with online dating in the mid 90s (aol) and was thoroughly unimpressed. One of my friends asked me if I liked asian girls. I said, sure but all these bitches lie in their profiles. He told me to check out “foreign ladies dot com” so I did. Holy shit! Beautiful 19 year old virgins looking for guys in their 30s, 40s, 50s. What could go wrong? I was skeptical but I wrote a few letters and waited. The responses varied from obvious scams to actual 19 year old virgins, but definitely a plethora of slender, feminine, conservative women who wanted to please a man and have babies. A few of them wrote me off because I was divorced (from a controlling bitch of an American woman, also the mother of my 3 children), and the fact that I had initiated the divorce was significant.
I narrowed my choices down to 4 or 5 and started planning a trip. I landed in Cebu in April 2002. I can’t remember why, but I didn’t end up meeting the girl(s) I had pipelined in Cebu, and I think my 3 favorites were all in Mindanao. One of those had politely asked to postpone my visit due to finals just prior to her graduation. I’ll never know for sure if it was just an excuse for a gentle rejection, but no matter. So we were down to 2. I took a ferry to Cagayan de Oro and met “Clarise.” To make a long story short, after a few days with her I liked her so much I forgot about all the others. I couldn’t stay for long but we courted by daily emails and online chats and infrequent phone calls. I was only able to see her 2 times over the next 2 years but we fully enjoyed our time together. I began the fiance visa process.
In Feb 2004 I snagged a temporary assignment to work in Manila for 5 months. I was given an apartment in Makati and Clare flew up from Mindanao to stay with me. Everything was great. She greeted me with excitement every time I came home from work. She’s a good cook, and would always have something nice prepared for me. During my time there her visa was approved, and in July we flew together to the states.
It was almost immediately apparent that she wasn’t going to adjust easily to life in the US. She was suspicious of everyone, complained if she didn’t have rice everyday, and occasionally would even act hostile towards me. My 16 year old daughter (D1) lived with us and she was being a typically bitchy american teenage girl. Clare couldn’t understand why I wasn’t beating my daughter on a regular basis for her poor behavior. Over the next few months, Clare would go for 2 or more weeks at a time when everything seemed fine, then she would have a breakdown and start screaming and crying about some ridiculous thing. I had to be on the road 2 or 3 nights a week, and Clare hated being there with my daughter during those times. She’d stay in our room almost the whole time.
All of this was of course unacceptable, and after a couple months I told her she had to go back to the Philippines. She initially agreed and I bought a ticket for her for the following week, but when the time came she refused to go, promising that she would get her emotions under control. I gritted my teeth and life went on as before with peaceful weeks punctuated by an eruption every 2 to 4 weeks.
Things finally came to a head in Apr 2005 when she took some sleeping pills and told me she wanted to die and was going to take some more. I took her seriously and called the paramedics. EMTs and cops arrived around 10pm, looked at me with suspicion, and interviewed her in another room. They decided to transport her to the hospital for observation. I followed in my car and waited in the ER for the next several hours.
A “mental health professional” was called; she probably arrived around 2am. Her body language and attire screamed angry lesbian. She talked to Clare who later relayed the conversation to me. “Does your husband hit you?” No. “Does he threaten to hit you?” No. A confused look on the face of angry lesbian. “Does he ever raise his voice with you?” Yes, of course. “That’s abuse! you should go to a women’s shelter for your safety.” Welcome to western feminism Clare. To her credit she had nothing but contempt for this woman and her man-hating philosophy, but I was beyond angry for her placing me in that kind of jeopardy.
They released her around 4 am having made sure that I was not a threat. On the drive home she softly said, “you’re done with me, aren’t you?” Yes. “I understand, I’ll go back to the Philippines if you want me to.” That’s what I want.
During the following week or so, Clare was the kind, sweet girl I knew in the Philippines; probably somewhat of an act, but I believe that was more authentically who she was than the raging psychopath she’d become during her time in the states. When we explained to my daughters (D2 was visiting) that she was going back to the Philippines, they expressed disappointment. They liked her a lot and had no idea about the problems she was causing me. Clare said, “you should come and visit me.” The girls looked at me, “dad, can we?” Sure. I didn’t want to upset the applecart so close to her departure date. I didn’t intend to maintain a relationship with Clare, but I wasn’t going to verbalize that, so a trip was planned.
She departed with no further drama. We stayed in contact mostly by email. I maintained a facade of continuing our relationship, but in my mind, once I fulfilled my promise to my daughters, contact would be cut off.
In June, the girls and I were off to the Phils to visit Clare. We met up with her in Cebu and stayed there a couple nights, then it was off on a ferry trip to a nearby island for a beach vacation. We ended the trip with a few days in Manila. The girls loved every minute of it, and Clare and I enjoyed getting reacquainted. Clare and I said our goodbyes and she headed back to Mindanao.
Fast forward a couple months later. I was working my normal schedule, my daughter who was living with me was doing pretty well, other than being a snotty know it all teenager, and my social life was non existent. I’ve never been good at approaching, and since I’d been introduced to the Philippines, I had no real desire to approach western bitches anyway. I was still communicating with Clare and one day I noticed a gap of several days in my schedule. The next thing I knew I was online buying a ticket for a whirlwind trip to the Phils.
One of the great things about my company is that I can adjust my schedule pretty easily by trading trips with other pilots or directly with the company. And for the next 2 years I probably went to the Philippines every other month or so. Sometimes for 2 weeks, and one time it was literally a long weekend (4 days, which is insane). We were getting along great, but of course I was very leery of bringing her back to the US.
One fine day, my older daughter came to me and said, “dad, I have something to tell you. I’m pregnant.” She was 18 and I was in shock, but not really shocked, if that makes any sense. Over the next few days, talking to Clare she was very excited about the baby. Anyone who knows filipinas will not be surprised by this. Filipinas love babies, especially white ones. We concocted a plan to have Clare apply for a tourist visa. My thought process was, she could come over for six months and if things didn’t work out she’d have to return to the phils. Otherwise we could work on getting a spouse visa. So I felt I had at least some control of the situation.
Clare arrived in the states the day after the baby boy was born. It was love at first sight. D1 never had the chance to experience the lifestyle of a struggling single mom. Clare would do anything for the baby, and D1 never had to lift a finger unless she wanted to. For the first time in a long time I felt real happinesss or at least contentment. My small house was now jam packed with Clare and me, the baby, both Ds and the baby daddy (for a short time). It quickly became apparent that everyone would be better off if Clare stayed in the US. We jumped through the hoops to get her green card and 5 years later she became a US citizen.
After a few years of domestic bliss, I began to feel restless. I had an amazing job, a beautiful, feminine wife, I had designed and built a home that I loved, and my grandson was happy and content. I was torn between keeping all that intact and the simmering resentment for Clare’s earlier misdeeds, as well as the natural desire to be unencumbered by marital contracts. When I told Clare how I felt, she was hurt and after a few days of silence, she told me she’d give me a divorce and not try to take me to the cleaners. We went to a mediator instead of hiring lawyers and I basically negotiated against myself to come up with a number for alimony and the division of assets. The mediator took Clare aside at one point to make sure she was really okay with the settlement, and she was, so in short order we were amicably divorced.
We stayed together until the house was sold a year later and everyone was surprised at that point when we both moved to separate rentals (we hadn’t made our divorce public).
If any or all of this has sounded stupid to you up to this point, wait til you hear this. I want her back.
After being away from her a few weeks, I missed her way more than I thought I would. My first thought is, I want what I can’t have. Maybe there’s some of that dynamic in play, but I’ve thought a lot about that, and what I should do, and the fact is, we bonded deeply over the years and I honestly believe I’m better off with than without her. We’re both far from perfect, and I know we’ll both be fine one way or the other.
I welcome feedback. I think I know what most will think and I’m interested to hear it, but I’m especially interested to hear if anyone thinks I’m not crazy for having “oneitis.” Also, men over 50 might be better able to understand my situation, but I’ll listen to everyone who cares to comment.
I’m not sure if I left any gaping holes in the narrative and I didn’t proof read very thoroughly, so I’ll be happy to answer questions and have some back and forth. I hope this was useful or interesting to read for some of you.
Notes:
I don’t know why the transition to the US was so difficult for Clare. At first I thought she must be bipolar, but I’ve never heard of anyone curing themselves unaided by drugs or therapy. I’m sure it was a combination of reasons, possibly including:
Culture shock, magnified by my delightful teenagers. Some of the behaviors she witnessed were, drug and alcohol abuse and addiction, shoplifting, wrecked cars and moving violations, truancy, and it almost seems quaint to add disrespect and a know it all attitude.
Deep seated anger from her childhood (her mom was physically and emotionally abusive and her dad’s an alcoholic) that came out directed at me.
My first ex-wife called her a few times to stir the pot.
Immaturity. She was 23 when we met and 25 when she moved to the states.
During the 2 years she was back in the Phils, she matured and gained control over her emotions. She showed great appreciation for me and the value I added to her life. And she was so happy and in love with the baby, that probably outweighed a lot of negativity she might have felt.
(original)
I’m posting this at the behest of asdfk and Drix, two fine gentlemen I met up with in Lima and we shared excellent food and conversation. I told them about my Filipina experience and they encouraged me to share it here.
A few months after 9-11 I was new to the airline industry and still part of an air force reserve squadron. I took a leave of absence from the airline as the squadron was activated and sent to Turkey. After the initial excitement of the deployment wore off a lot of my squadron mates began playing around on match.com in their spare time. I had experimented with online dating in the mid 90s (aol) and was thoroughly unimpressed. One of my friends asked me if I liked asian girls. I said, sure but all these bitches lie in their profiles. He told me to check out “foreign ladies dot com” so I did. Holy shit! Beautiful 19 year old virgins looking for guys in their 30s, 40s, 50s. What could go wrong? I was skeptical but I wrote a few letters and waited. The responses varied from obvious scams to actual 19 year old virgins, but definitely a plethora of slender, feminine, conservative women who wanted to please a man and have babies. A few of them wrote me off because I was divorced (from a controlling bitch of an American woman, also the mother of my 3 children), and the fact that I had initiated the divorce was significant.
I narrowed my choices down to 4 or 5 and started planning a trip. I landed in Cebu in April 2002. I can’t remember why, but I didn’t end up meeting the girl(s) I had pipelined in Cebu, and I think my 3 favorites were all in Mindanao. One of those had politely asked to postpone my visit due to finals just prior to her graduation. I’ll never know for sure if it was just an excuse for a gentle rejection, but no matter. So we were down to 2. I took a ferry to Cagayan de Oro and met “Clarise.” To make a long story short, after a few days with her I liked her so much I forgot about all the others. I couldn’t stay for long but we courted by daily emails and online chats and infrequent phone calls. I was only able to see her 2 times over the next 2 years but we fully enjoyed our time together. I began the fiance visa process.
In Feb 2004 I snagged a temporary assignment to work in Manila for 5 months. I was given an apartment in Makati and Clare flew up from Mindanao to stay with me. Everything was great. She greeted me with excitement every time I came home from work. She’s a good cook, and would always have something nice prepared for me. During my time there her visa was approved, and in July we flew together to the states.
It was almost immediately apparent that she wasn’t going to adjust easily to life in the US. She was suspicious of everyone, complained if she didn’t have rice everyday, and occasionally would even act hostile towards me. My 16 year old daughter (D1) lived with us and she was being a typically bitchy american teenage girl. Clare couldn’t understand why I wasn’t beating my daughter on a regular basis for her poor behavior. Over the next few months, Clare would go for 2 or more weeks at a time when everything seemed fine, then she would have a breakdown and start screaming and crying about some ridiculous thing. I had to be on the road 2 or 3 nights a week, and Clare hated being there with my daughter during those times. She’d stay in our room almost the whole time.
All of this was of course unacceptable, and after a couple months I told her she had to go back to the Philippines. She initially agreed and I bought a ticket for her for the following week, but when the time came she refused to go, promising that she would get her emotions under control. I gritted my teeth and life went on as before with peaceful weeks punctuated by an eruption every 2 to 4 weeks.
Things finally came to a head in Apr 2005 when she took some sleeping pills and told me she wanted to die and was going to take some more. I took her seriously and called the paramedics. EMTs and cops arrived around 10pm, looked at me with suspicion, and interviewed her in another room. They decided to transport her to the hospital for observation. I followed in my car and waited in the ER for the next several hours.
A “mental health professional” was called; she probably arrived around 2am. Her body language and attire screamed angry lesbian. She talked to Clare who later relayed the conversation to me. “Does your husband hit you?” No. “Does he threaten to hit you?” No. A confused look on the face of angry lesbian. “Does he ever raise his voice with you?” Yes, of course. “That’s abuse! you should go to a women’s shelter for your safety.” Welcome to western feminism Clare. To her credit she had nothing but contempt for this woman and her man-hating philosophy, but I was beyond angry for her placing me in that kind of jeopardy.
They released her around 4 am having made sure that I was not a threat. On the drive home she softly said, “you’re done with me, aren’t you?” Yes. “I understand, I’ll go back to the Philippines if you want me to.” That’s what I want.
During the following week or so, Clare was the kind, sweet girl I knew in the Philippines; probably somewhat of an act, but I believe that was more authentically who she was than the raging psychopath she’d become during her time in the states. When we explained to my daughters (D2 was visiting) that she was going back to the Philippines, they expressed disappointment. They liked her a lot and had no idea about the problems she was causing me. Clare said, “you should come and visit me.” The girls looked at me, “dad, can we?” Sure. I didn’t want to upset the applecart so close to her departure date. I didn’t intend to maintain a relationship with Clare, but I wasn’t going to verbalize that, so a trip was planned.
She departed with no further drama. We stayed in contact mostly by email. I maintained a facade of continuing our relationship, but in my mind, once I fulfilled my promise to my daughters, contact would be cut off.
In June, the girls and I were off to the Phils to visit Clare. We met up with her in Cebu and stayed there a couple nights, then it was off on a ferry trip to a nearby island for a beach vacation. We ended the trip with a few days in Manila. The girls loved every minute of it, and Clare and I enjoyed getting reacquainted. Clare and I said our goodbyes and she headed back to Mindanao.
Fast forward a couple months later. I was working my normal schedule, my daughter who was living with me was doing pretty well, other than being a snotty know it all teenager, and my social life was non existent. I’ve never been good at approaching, and since I’d been introduced to the Philippines, I had no real desire to approach western bitches anyway. I was still communicating with Clare and one day I noticed a gap of several days in my schedule. The next thing I knew I was online buying a ticket for a whirlwind trip to the Phils.
One of the great things about my company is that I can adjust my schedule pretty easily by trading trips with other pilots or directly with the company. And for the next 2 years I probably went to the Philippines every other month or so. Sometimes for 2 weeks, and one time it was literally a long weekend (4 days, which is insane). We were getting along great, but of course I was very leery of bringing her back to the US.
One fine day, my older daughter came to me and said, “dad, I have something to tell you. I’m pregnant.” She was 18 and I was in shock, but not really shocked, if that makes any sense. Over the next few days, talking to Clare she was very excited about the baby. Anyone who knows filipinas will not be surprised by this. Filipinas love babies, especially white ones. We concocted a plan to have Clare apply for a tourist visa. My thought process was, she could come over for six months and if things didn’t work out she’d have to return to the phils. Otherwise we could work on getting a spouse visa. So I felt I had at least some control of the situation.
Clare arrived in the states the day after the baby boy was born. It was love at first sight. D1 never had the chance to experience the lifestyle of a struggling single mom. Clare would do anything for the baby, and D1 never had to lift a finger unless she wanted to. For the first time in a long time I felt real happinesss or at least contentment. My small house was now jam packed with Clare and me, the baby, both Ds and the baby daddy (for a short time). It quickly became apparent that everyone would be better off if Clare stayed in the US. We jumped through the hoops to get her green card and 5 years later she became a US citizen.
After a few years of domestic bliss, I began to feel restless. I had an amazing job, a beautiful, feminine wife, I had designed and built a home that I loved, and my grandson was happy and content. I was torn between keeping all that intact and the simmering resentment for Clare’s earlier misdeeds, as well as the natural desire to be unencumbered by marital contracts. When I told Clare how I felt, she was hurt and after a few days of silence, she told me she’d give me a divorce and not try to take me to the cleaners. We went to a mediator instead of hiring lawyers and I basically negotiated against myself to come up with a number for alimony and the division of assets. The mediator took Clare aside at one point to make sure she was really okay with the settlement, and she was, so in short order we were amicably divorced.
We stayed together until the house was sold a year later and everyone was surprised at that point when we both moved to separate rentals (we hadn’t made our divorce public).
If any or all of this has sounded stupid to you up to this point, wait til you hear this. I want her back.
After being away from her a few weeks, I missed her way more than I thought I would. My first thought is, I want what I can’t have. Maybe there’s some of that dynamic in play, but I’ve thought a lot about that, and what I should do, and the fact is, we bonded deeply over the years and I honestly believe I’m better off with than without her. We’re both far from perfect, and I know we’ll both be fine one way or the other.
I welcome feedback. I think I know what most will think and I’m interested to hear it, but I’m especially interested to hear if anyone thinks I’m not crazy for having “oneitis.” Also, men over 50 might be better able to understand my situation, but I’ll listen to everyone who cares to comment.
I’m not sure if I left any gaping holes in the narrative and I didn’t proof read very thoroughly, so I’ll be happy to answer questions and have some back and forth. I hope this was useful or interesting to read for some of you.
Notes:
I don’t know why the transition to the US was so difficult for Clare. At first I thought she must be bipolar, but I’ve never heard of anyone curing themselves unaided by drugs or therapy. I’m sure it was a combination of reasons, possibly including:
Culture shock, magnified by my delightful teenagers. Some of the behaviors she witnessed were, drug and alcohol abuse and addiction, shoplifting, wrecked cars and moving violations, truancy, and it almost seems quaint to add disrespect and a know it all attitude.
Deep seated anger from her childhood (her mom was physically and emotionally abusive and her dad’s an alcoholic) that came out directed at me.
My first ex-wife called her a few times to stir the pot.
Immaturity. She was 23 when we met and 25 when she moved to the states.
During the 2 years she was back in the Phils, she matured and gained control over her emotions. She showed great appreciation for me and the value I added to her life. And she was so happy and in love with the baby, that probably outweighed a lot of negativity she might have felt.