Leftovers
The last time I told my story, my mother said the neighbor was going to torture me for the rest of my life, and I said he'd get over it. I was wrong — there's a box in my basement with 294 court entries that says so. But before I open it, you need to meet the girl who was living her life while it filled up.
This is Chapter 9. How I got out of my parents' house (there were scissors involved — nobody lost an ear). The car my dad took, the apology I didn't mean, and what my mother taught me about enduring. A bartending shift, a third-floor apartment over the Delaware River with my best friend, a walk-in closet that changed my life, and a mattress on the floor I was perfectly happy with. A Mercedes. A boob job. Shore houses. Some of the best years I ever had.
And right at the start of them, a boyfriend we're calling Aspen — the Spider-Man blanket guy — who suddenly, out of nowhere, got very into skiing. Every weekend. Until one night, with him asleep on my floor, I picked up his phone and met Boston. And a text about leftovers told me everything.
This one's about the night I learned I didn't need a confession to believe my own eyes. And about a closet that smelled like cigarettes I couldn't smell — because when you live inside something long enough, your whole body adjusts. Your nose. Your brain. Your idea of normal.
You can't smell your own house. But once you step outside long enough to smell it, it's really hard to pretend it doesn't stink.
⚠️ Contains strong language and discussion of family conflict, infidelity, and toxic relationships.
New episodes every Monday.
Grab your daddy tissues. Till next time, my queens. 🖤
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📚 THE WHOLE STORY, IN ORDER
I'm Fucking Doing This → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/im-fcking-doing-this
The Roots → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/the-roots
The Boiling Frog → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/the-boiling-frog
Let's Get High → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/lets-get-high
White Trash → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/white-trash
Chapter 1: Who is Vicky? → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-1-who-is-vicky
Chapter 2: Get Out of Jail Free Card → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-2-get-out-of-jail-free-card
Chapter 3: Fan Mail → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-3-fan-mail
Chapter 4: The Battleground → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-4-the-battleground
The Wrong Bitch → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/the-wrong-bitch
Chapter 5: Car Insurance → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-5-car-insurance
Chapter 6: Don't Forget to Brush → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-6-dont-forget-to-brush
Chapter 7: He'll Get Over It → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-7-hell-get-over-it
Chapter 8: The Box → https://daddy-tissues.captivate.fm/episode/chapter-8-the-box
Music: “Do It Anyway” by Scarlett Solo, used under license.
Disclaimer: Daddy Tissues is a personal storytelling podcast for entertainment, reflection, and connection. It is not therapy, legal advice, medical advice, financial advice, or a replacement for professional support. Names and identifying details may be changed or omitted to protect privacy.
Transcript
Chapter 9: Leftovers (Audio Only for Captivate)
[:Gina: In light of this past weekend's festivities
I was reminded of my next relationship venture in my story, meaning back when I was about 23 So in today's episode, we are gonna talk about a man that we are going to refer to as Aspen And when we finally catch up to my present-day life, I can tell you about the fun-filled, exciting stories that just happened this weekend I honestly cannot wait to give these people a name.
things in order. That's just [:It's like somebody is just purposely hand-delivering these stories to me on a nice, shiny silver platter It's still very hard for me to accept that this is my actual reality. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining.
I'm just out here going about this journey the universe created for me and enjoying every bit of it. Except for last week when I was crying alone in my room, feeling bad for myself.
es out, going, "Why me?" No, [:Thank you." At least my life has never been boring I'm your host, Gina Sullivan, and you're listening to your new favorite podcast, Daddy Tissues
e in black permanent marker, [:Even that word still gives me chills. That box has been patiently waiting in the crawl space next to the Halloween decorations for me to open it up and bring it back to life. It just wants to tell its story. 300. 300 court entries 294 to be more exact. The average custody case has maybe a handful spanning over, let's say, a year.
Two at most Ending in one final custody order. But mine?
e, but six final orders. One [:opening that box made me feel like I was Winifred from one of my, favorite movies, Hocus Pocus. When a virgin finally comes along, lights the candle, and she gets brought back to life and opens her spell book for the first time in, like, a million years, and that little creepy eye slowly starts to open.
Except me and this box, we were not friends, and I'm obviously not a virgin.
A witch? Maybe. It's very possible I'm not really sure how my mind is making that connection, but my brain has a mind of its own it brought back a lot of awful memories. My stomach started to hurt, and I was getting that awful anxiety, panicky feeling. But I said to myself, "Gina, we're going to get through this."
Because from [:Avoiding just makes the fear build up and make it close to impossible to face. So if something is hard, hold your breath and dive in. It's really rough holding your breath under that water, but trust me, you will feel a whole lot better once you come back to the surface and you can finally breathe again one, we all have our own journey, and two, we have absolutely no control over it.
s happened to me so far, the [:Now, to be clear, my son was not there, and I [00:07:00] don't want people listening to this podcast and thinking I just walked around Philadelphia throwing sharp objects whenever somebody irritated me. Thank God the neighbor never got a hold of this story. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if in a month or two I'm back in court for another emergency custody hearing for a child that's now in his 20s, and I'm being portrayed by Polly Pocket in front of a judge as this unstable Edward Scissorhands of a mother If so, we can add that story to the queue things build up over the years. And as much as I've learned to take from my mother, I was not gifted with her endless ability to take shit. I unfortunately have a limit. There's a cap
he bullshit anymore. I would [:What I do know is they hit the ground. Nobody got stabbed. Nobody lost an ear. I was not trying to murder my father in the middle of my mother's haircut. I lost my shit. There's a difference. [00:09:00] Maybe not recognized by the court system, but emotionally, there's a difference. And that's the thing with me.
It takes a lot for me to get there. What happens is I take it to the point that the person dishing it out thinks I'm gonna just keep taking it forever, and then boom. One day, I just don't anymore. And they're like, "What the fuck? What is happening? Why isn't she doing what she usually does?
She's nuts. She lost it." And of course, now I'm the crazy person. I'm now the villain, I tend to date the same type of man because I grew up with this type of man. So the pushing, the constant pushing, this is what eventually gets me there
use I lived in his house and [:I worked at a Northeast Philadelphia neighborhood salon where everyone knew everyone. One of my bosses grew up with my mom. His mother had worked at my grandfather's deli. These weren't just random people that I went to work for. They knew my family. They became my family.
and I needed to make money. [:This was normal to her. She had spent years accepting disrespect from my dad. So when I was upset about the way he was treating me, her response was basically, "He's your father. You have to respect him. Unfortunately, you've got to just suck this up again and apologize."
feeling And I know somewhere [:And that is exactly what she taught me to do. Endure, adapt, keep the peace, apologize if you have to, and move on And that lesson followed me into way more places than I understood at the time. So I swallowed my pride, I pretended to be sorry, and I apologized to my dad. Not because I suddenly agreed with him, because I needed my fucking car.
ng, saying, "I am absolutely [:After that, I remember thinking, "I cannot live here anymore. I don't care what I have to do. I don't care if I have furniture. I don't need a couch or a table or a TV. I will put a mattress on the goddamn floor and a beanbag in the living room, and I will be perfectly happy I just needed my own space because it had just become unbearable.
The problem was I was still new at the salon. I wasn't making enough money to move out yet. So I got another job, one night a week bartending at a neighborhood bar
lly thing And I loved it. It [:I moved in with one of my best friends who I'm still friends with today. We are going to call her Tiger Eyes. And eventually, when Tiger Eyes moved out, another one of my best friends moved in. And this friend we are going to call Dr
ge, marriage, kids, and then [:When I first moved in, I barely had anything, but over time it became my home. It was mine. It was my safe place for a really long time. There was a balcony overlooking the river. In the mornings, I would get up, do a Jillian Michaels workout video, or run like seven miles around the development and after I was done working out, I would go out on my little balcony, smoke a Marlboro Menthol Light, drink my coffee so I could poop before work, obviously, and get a little me time watching the water glisten in the sun while everybody else was still sleeping
much. You have no idea. And [:So the first time I walked into a closet that could physically accommodate my entire body, I was like, "I have fucking arrived." Forget generational wealth. Gina has shelving and a closet right when we moved in and we are unpacking, Tiger Eyes walks into my room. I'm in my beautiful walk-in closet, and she goes, [00:17:00] "Oh my fucking God, Gina," with this face of disgust. And I'm like, "What the fuck is your problem, bitch? I'm in the middle of appreciating all this I've got going on right now She's like, "It smells like straight cigarettes in here." And I was like, "What are you talking about?" She's like, "Do you seriously not smell that?" I genuinely couldn't smell a thing. My dad smoked in the house my entire life growing up, so the smell to me was nonexistent.
unny part was, after I moved [:I could smell the house. I could smell it on her. Suddenly, the smell of smoke was very obvious because my nostrils had learned what fresh air was. And that's such a weird thing about the human body. Your senses adapt to your environment.
esday. You don't realize how [:Anyway, moving into that apartment felt like stepping outside into a new life. I could breathe fresh, smoke-free air. And I didn't have to smell like a smoke-filled bar 24/7 Okay, I know what you're thinking.
endent. I felt accomplished. [:Because again, growth And honestly, I felt like I was living the fucking life. I was young, tan, in shape, with this bright, in-your-face blonde hair that when I see it in pictures now, I can't believe I walked around like that 'cause I desperately needed [00:21:00] a toner. I was unaware at the time
I had my son, I had a job that I loved. I had great friends and family. I was making money. My kid had whatever he needed and more. We went on vacation, and I was having fun again. I had shore houses for the summer with my friends again, one in Wildwood, another time in Sea Isle, then another one in Avalon
On the weekends I had my son, he came with me. We'd go to the beach, do the boardwalk, do the fun stuff together. And then on the weekends I didn't have him, I went out with my friends and we lived it up. I had so much fun. It reminded me of my life before everything got so heavy, and I remember being really happy then.
ell these stories, it sounds [:You might remember him as the boyfriend who came to the hospital with a Spider-Man blanket. Same guy. Aspen played baseball before I met him on a minor league team that I think they called a farming system or something. Don't quote me.
baseball thing. And looking [:I clearly had a type
It seemed as though my dating requirements were good-looking, confident, and at least one bar fight on the resume. When I met him, I liked him. I was at this bar with my friends in the Northeast. I saw him across the room, told the bartender to buy him a shot like I was cool, gave him a little look because I thought I was absolutely hilarious.
, like every single weekend, [:Skiing was never once in any conversation. Something was absolutely not right
By the time I went through his phone, I had already knew. I didn't have proof, but I knew I was going to find something, so I really didn't give a fuck if he caught me.
In my head, the relationship was already over. I just needed to know what the fuck actually happened
t." Picked it up, flipped it [:That's where she lived, so that can be her name There were texts, there were pictures of her boobs, which were definitely not nicer than mine. Just wanted to note that. And there was a message about eating their leftovers leftovers.
made me sick. I was shaking [:knowing and seeing are two different things you can prepare yourself all you want. Then you see the proof and your body goes, "Oh, fuck. It's real." At one point, he started waking up, and I put the phone against my stomach and pretended to be asleep. So now we have two people pretending in the same room. He pretends that he skis, and I'm pretending that I'm asleep. Very healthy relationship. . He fell back asleep, so I kept looking, and I got so angry. I wanted to throw that fucking phone, that stupid fucking flip phone, off my balcony into the Delaware River. But [00:27:00] before I actually made that decision, I ran right into Tiger Eyes' room, closed the door, and told her, He's cheating on me, and her name is Boston. No, I didn't say that, but I showed her everything. We got Boston's number out of his phone. Then I went back into the living room. I decided I was not going to cause some dramatic scene, and I put his phone exactly where it was, on the coffee table, like nothing was touched.
y calmly Get out of my house [:He's half asleep. He's confused. I handed him his phone as I'm pushing him out the door. Eventually, I got him fully out. He turned around. I closed the door on his face. Done , then he started calling me over and over. I ignored every single call I mean, I don't understand this whole cheating bit. I found out, I'm breaking up with you.
ly understand it. A few days [:I was just sitting there on the balcony over the river, like a queen looking down at her kingdom, just being the badass bitch that I was no, that's not what happened. I may have put that act on because at this point in my life, hell no, you don't [00:30:00] ever let them see you cry. Because now I knew better.
I refused to show weakness. But in reality, I was devastated. I cried a lot. I was really sad. I couldn't understand why this kept happening because now I'm doing the math. Coolio, the neighbor, and now Aspen And when the same things keep happening, you start asking yourself, "What the hell am I doing?" Not, "Why am I making men cheat?"
s, got into fights, guys who [:Which sounds very obvious now, but it didn't feel obvious at the time When you're inside your own life, you don't have the aerial view. You're just living it. You don't know there's a tornado because you've been decorating inside of it, and that's probably the thing I understand differently now.
ays label it, caution. Toxic [:And maybe that matters more than having the answer because you cannot change a pattern you still think is a pattern. I didn't know why I was picking these men yet. I didn't know what I was going to do differently, And obviously, I did not immediately transform into someone with flawless taste in relationships.
was beginning to ask, "Why?" [:That night taught me something before I had the words for it. I didn't know yet how to stop choosing men who would hurt me. I didn't understand the pattern.
I don't know what part of me was mistaking certain things for attraction or chemistry or excitement. But I had learned one thing. I didn't need a confession to believe my own eyes.
now where the fucking door is[:Till next time, my queens.
