Category Archives: Divorce

Mother’s Day

25 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by in Divorce, Motherhood, Parenting

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I thought today was going to be okay. And then I went to the park, and saw all the families there. Mothers – with children – and with fathers.

Teams.

I was jealous.

Because this Mother’s Day I am not the Mum I wanted to be. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t create that family. We were never a team.

And as a result I am not the Mum that is there no matter what, for every crisis big or small, every achievement or every joy.

Sometimes I’m not there at all.

And the reality is that all too soon someone else will be. They will be the team at the park.

I’m told often I need to get over this. I need to move on. But I cannot describe the pain of it. Why couldn’t I have that? What’s wrong with ME?

The only consolation I can find is that in some ways, I’m actually more of the Mum I wanted to be now than I was before.

Because it turns out parenting on egg shells around someone else’s moods completely sucks. It changes you.

There is now no unhappy, brooding presence in the corner, on the phone, judging and criticising and refusing to join in.

I can wind the kids up before bedtime. Dance like a loony. Eat tea on the floor with the Barbies. Stay at the park for hours on end. Not sort the washing. Bugger the washing up. Cover the house in slime. Go to bed when the kids do. Tickle them in restaurants. Sing the three lines of Moana I know on repeat at the top of my voice. Instigate lick fights. Do the Mystery Inc voices in public. Be too intense, too loud, too soft, too rigid, too – whatever I like.

I just have to get beyond too damn sad, and too damn hurt.

And I’m afraid I still don’t quite know how that’s done.

‘Trauma Trim’ – the desiccated frog diet

18 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by in Divorce, Humour

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EXCITING NEWS!!!! I’m so excited to tell you guys that I’m bringing out a new diet book, all about how to drop up to 20kg in 3 months!

I’m going to call it ‘Trauma Trim’ – and it basically involves having a lump of grief in your throat so big you can’t actually swallow any food!

How has no one thought of this before??? I’m going to be rich, I tell you, RICH!

Move over Lean-in-15 beardy man and Clean-Eating-Alice-the-Camel – this is clearly the next big diet fad!

The Kardashians might even endorse it.

Probably.

As I’ve only just hit on this genius weight loss method, I will admit it’s not quite what I’d hoped for… although I might not include that in the book.

I always thought losing a few pounds would suddenly make me Cosmo-bikini-svelte. Turns out I’ve still got all the same lumpy wobbly bits in exactly the same ratios, it’s just all smaller than it was before. It’s the same body just 30% less.

In fact if anything, the thin bits are hollowed out and the wobbly bits are protruding even further by comparison, giving me rather the appearance of a desiccated frog.

Only with worse posture.

And saggier tits.

People always say the traditional break-up slim-down is nature’s way of making you attractive for your next partner.

People are pretty freaking stupid, sometimes, aren’t they?

On the other hand, if you know any eligible bachelors who are particularly INTO the desiccated frog look, you now know exactly where to send them.

Only don’t, because it’s drier than the Arizona desert down there and I’m thinking of having the whole thing sewn up for being a damn sight more trouble than it’s worth.

Xxx

To the other woman

13 Tuesday Feb 2018

Posted by in Divorce

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I don’t really mind that you’re the other woman – or rather the new woman.

Sure, it hurts.
Okay, it hurts a lot.
I think that’s pretty normal.

But the whole point of this was that we (me and him, not you and me) weren’t happy together. And that’s why we couldn’t be together any more.

So if you make him a happier, better version of himself, then that’s a good thing – in the long run – for everyone.

Yes, it hurt that it was so soon. But what hurt even more is how you both chose to announce it. Publicly. Less than 3 months after he confirmed our 19 year relationship was over. Without any warning to me. Without any thought for the small people.

I don’t mean to put blame in the wrong place. I would address him if I thought he could listen – but I already know he doesn’t have empathy for me and can’t put himself in my shoes. I guess I was hoping that the next person who came along might be able to do so. And that maybe it would help things.

New relationships are heady, and new and euphoric. I get it. But all of that could have been kept to yourselves for just a LITTLE bit longer.

To put it out in front of our shared friends, school parents and others, in the middle of inevitably upsetting divorce negotiations, so very, very soon after our split – I just don’t understand it. I don’t get why either of you would think that was constructive, or necessary, or okay – or calculated to do anything but cause damage?

I know he is angry with me. He has been angry with me for a long, long time. Maybe he has reason. I really don’t know anymore.

I do know that you don’t have any reason – we don’t even know each other.

At the very best, from your perspective, it was a naive thing to do.

And I find your lack of consideration concerning.

It makes me worry that the small girls that are my everything might well be spending time with you – again presumably sooner than I might wish.

I don’t want to be in psycho-ex/younger-upgrade conflict – I’m too damn tired and too damn heart-sick.

I want those beautiful girls to spend time with adults who will love them, and treasure them, and accept them, and put them first because they are just children who have done nothing wrong and did not ask to be in this situation.

I really hope you turn out to be THAT other woman.

Because that other woman I think I can work with.

Finding love in the little things

11 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by in Divorce, Love and sex, Motherhood, Parenting

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A year ago, I wrote an alternative love letter to Dad-then-on-the-nether-edge.

In summary, I told him I loved him more than a soiled Bristol loo.

Ok, it did go somewhat deeper that that, and was rather more romantic (I thought) than the loo thing implies! Here it is.

Basically, it was a blog about being with someone for a really long time, and wearing grooves into each other’s souls.

It was a blog about the sheer and unrelenting monotony and exhaustion of life with small children.

It was a blog about the hidden beauty and love in all of that – in knowing someone so well, and in the awful/awesome details of family life.

It was also about not taking all of that for granted.

The verdict from Dad-now-off-the-netheredge was that it was a ‘bit depressing, actually.’

At the time his response hurt, but it did not open my eyes to how differently we viewed things.

In hindsight, I don’t think I wanted to see.

The truth is, where I saw beauty, he just –
didn’t.

He wasn’t looking anymore.

Or maybe he never saw it at all.

Or maybe it was me. Maybe I was blocking or spoiling his view.

It really doesn’t matter, anymore, does it?

I thought I was investing – in small, everyday deposits – into our life together. I was banking those beautiful details like they were precious. He had already checked out of the account.

It is always hard to be the person who falls out of love last. It is always hard to see the other person move on SO swiftly. It is always hard to be the last to know.

This Valentine’s Day, I am on my own. I imagine I will be on my own for a long time.

But I still believe, so strongly, that beauty and love IS in the little things, the ordinary things, even the mundane things.

One of my favourite poets put it better than I ever could – ‘Glory be to God for dappled things.’

Because speckled sunshine through the leaves, a baby’s belly laugh, a family game, the sweep of lashes on a cheek, the mutual comfort of the post-bedtime slump on the sofa – they can add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.

You just have to agree what the little things are – for you and your Valentine and your family.

And then you just have to keep looking for them.

And while that isn’t always easy, even from my new vantage point in spurned ex-wife world – I still believe it is always worth it.

So to old lovers – and new ones – Happy Valentine’s Day.

Xxx