The Invisible NFL Wife Speaks

The Invisible NFL Wife Speaks

April 26th, 1992, brought another level of insecurity, immaturity and obscurity in my life. It would last approximately three years. This part of my life, by worldly standards, should be titled, "riches" however, because of my low emotional, spiritual and physical mindset, it is more appropriate to title it "Rags." It was a time in my life when money was not an object but loneliness and depression was often the subject. I literally had everything and nothing at the same time. It was the lowest point in my life.

Immediately we went from little money, minimal problems to more money, maximum problems. Now, I’m not denouncing money or saying it caused more problems for us, I’m saying, lack of knowledge coupled with an abundance of funds, created a comfortable but affluenza environment. I can recall thinking silently, "how will I ever get my square morals to fit in with celebrity status circle values." I was afraid, uncomfortable and anxious to walk through the doors of my Cinderella lifestyle. The morning of my proposed ascend into the good life, I was nervous and anxious. I changed my clothing ensemble almost a dozen times and every time I took a step, my heart would beat harder and faster.

Once I arrived at the airport for departure, I felt as if I was going to pass out. My mind was racing with every "what, how, where and when" question known to mankind. I didn’t converse with anyone while waiting, I sat stoically in uncertainty. I remember when it was time to board the plane, I began to cry and my heart experienced a heaviness that I can only compare to my grandfather’s death in 1986. I felt like I was attending a funeral. My funeral. "Here lies the regular life of Angela Stone, filled with simplicity, joy and definition. She leaves behind her name, identity and self-esteem to mourn her once fulfilled life."

During a time when I was supposed to be living a life of lavish, surrounded by every materialistic comfort known to man, I was living a lifestyle of lack. The unique fact is that with all the money, material things and status, I was still bankrupt in every area of my life. I wore many masks while suffering in silence but the irony is that I was always unnoticed in the shadow of a celebrity. I had a face and a name but for many years, I was truly the invisible woman. Even some of my own family members would refer to me as "so and so’s wife" when introducing me. Misery loved my company and even though I attended a lot of events, I often felt like I was seated at the table alone.

No one was interested in my presence and sadly, they never questioned my absence. I was a shadow, a figment of my ex’s reality. Most times I was seen and not heard. Even when I spoke, I wondered if they were listening to hear me, or listening to hear about him. My days and nights consisted of existing to fill a space. One that would always have my ex’s featured plays, fumbles and famous name on my face. It has been almost 18 years since our divorce and sadly, I still wonder, do they see me and "can they hear me now."

I was in a place of glitz, glamour and grandeur but I felt dull, desolate and diminished. It was a very challenging time in my life. One that taught me to see people, value people and treasure the human connection. While I believe things can be valuable, I know that people are to be valued. I am not a status, title, trend or label. I am a person with a heart that beats and a memory that repeats. Good and bad. Happy and sad…this is the story of my life as an ex-NFL wife.

Ronnette White

Former HR Assistant at City of Charlotte - Solid Wasting

6 年

Thank you, I will. Angela continue to allow God to speak through you and to you. So many can and will be inspired by your truth. Women of all walks of life can be healed and set free through and by what you have to say. Remain blessed and encouraged ~ on purpose.

Ronnette White

Former HR Assistant at City of Charlotte - Solid Wasting

6 年

Thanks for sharing your heart & your story.? I see you as a women of great strength.

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