Not Exactly What It Says On The Ring

Surviving the emotional rollercoaster of an extramarital affair, marriage breakdown, life as a single parent and beyond.

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Into the unknown…

Well 2020 is certainly an unforgettable year. Mainly, for all the wrong reasons, but I can still find silver linings amidst the storm clouds. I started this year happily pregnant and full of hope. With that loss (our fifth), came the first blow of what has tuned out to be a turbulent year.

While painfully nursing my wounds, my ex-husband announced that he is going to marry the woman he left us for. Now please don’t get me wrong (hear my jovial tone), having remarried myself this is totally acceptable behaviour from him and forgive my sarcasm, but I wish them all the very best. When relationships are founded on such ‘honesty’, it’s hard to believe in the love story.

Personally, that was quite enough emotion for one year, but let’s just have a think. On a world scale we have witnessed, to name a few, the Australian bushfires, Mexit, Brexit with the UK withdrawal from the European Union, the failed impeachment trail of President Donald Trump, the Coronavirus pandemic and subsequent economic downturn and the Black Lives Matter movement. Is anyone waiting for the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse to turn up?

I have sat down in front of my laptop several times and then walked away. I have pondered this blog, its purpose and its future. Everyone is struggling in their own way and all for very different reasons. But this blog was always written to offer hope, to offer solidarity and this year, of all years, we are quite literally all in it together.  

I am not a scientist; I cannot shed light on the complexities of Covid-19 and its possible trajectories. I am not a politician; I cannot begin to comprehend the difficulties of navigating what choices are right for the health and welfare of the populace and also for the economy. I am not a doctor, nurse or healthcare professional, I have not witnessed first-hand the human suffering and loss of recent months. Thank you to all those who have worked so hard. I have simply done my bit, stayed at home and kept my distance. But beyond this pandemic, beyond 2020, what lies ahead? What comes next?

I think we are venturing into the unknown.

And therein lies my issue. Perhaps there is a greater need than ever to learn to live more comfortably in the present and be less terrified of the ‘unknown’.

I know that I find change and uncertainty particularly hard. When my ex-husband’s affair came to light, my life changed in an instant. I can still remember that spiralling feeling of anxiety and the utter loss of control: something terrible happened and (for me) it came out of nowhere. I could not change it and I could not control how it subsequently unfolded. I then experienced a similar lack of control with my recurrent miscarriages. With each loss, uncertainty grew inside me and I dared not plan ahead for fear of heartache. But that is life, it is unavoidably filled with uncertainty.

The current pandemic has heightened so much uncertainty for all of us. Many have faced insecurities over the economy, employment, finances, relationships and physical and mental health. As humans, on the whole, we crave stability, security and a need to control our own lives. We each have varying degrees of uncertainty that we can tolerate, and of course some enjoy the unpredictability of life more than others, but everyone has their limit.

When people contact me through this blog, they often ask how to cope with uncertainty and the anxiety it causes. I tend to give the advice that was given to me by my dad - focus on controlling those things in life that you are able to control as the rest will happen anyway. After my ex left, I used to spend much of my time worrying and working myself up over things that ultimately, I had absolutely no control over.

Do not get me wrong, I can still revert back to old habits when something hits me hard: I then have to refocus and tell myself to concentrate on controlling those things that are under my control. At times, I have to challenge my own need for certainty. I have to tell myself that it is perfectly okay to not know what is coming next. It is also normal not to know how things are going to turn out; none of us have a crystal ball.

I found that I could reduce my anxiety and stress by, literally, letting go. Literally learning to venture into the unknown.

Good things can come from bad. After the downfall of my previous marriage, I found a new type of confidence in myself. I wrote this blog, I harnessed new talents, relished motherhood and recovered my femininity. I then met my (now) husband; opportunity often arises from the unexpected. I believe that having to face uncertainty in life has helped me learn to adapt and overcome challenges along with increasing my empathy and resiliency.

Despite its overwhelming uncertainty, this year has offered me some silver linings. When lockdown came, the scheduling was gone, and the diary closed. There was no commitment to anything but home and to each other. I know many struggled, but I found calm in the simplicity of lockdown life. I baked with the children, built a tent and slept in it, read new recipes and actually had time to cook them. I sat with the children and chatted and watched endless movies. We all ate dinner at the same time, as a family. Goodness, there were times where we all needed space, there were times we craved normality, but I will look back on that time with some sense of peace. For the first time, I leant to live more comfortably in the present and let go of my fear of the unknown.

We are still not out of this pandemic and I am still not holding the baby that my husband and I dream of welcoming into this blended family. I am about to embark on a different career path and start at the very beginning again, at an age where I am far from the beginning of anything. But, for now, what else is there to do but continue onwards into the unknown.

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Lost but not forgotten - the loneliness of recurrent miscarriage

After my first marriage tore me apart with infidelity, I started writing to help others and to help myself. My story evolved and I found love after heartbreak. I even went on to remarry. A bright new hope, new challenges and blended family life with all the possibilities (through this blog) to help others living in this kind of family unit. I longed to move on and tell the story of our blended family welcoming someone new - a key person who ties us all together. And with each loss, I convinced myself that it will happen when the time is right. The nonsense mantras that we tell ourselves when something in life hasn’t gone to plan.

Each loss becomes easier in some ways, and far more painful in others. I am now a little numb to the news when it initially comes, but after five losses, the pain during the aftermath is devastating.

There is a deep loneliness to suffering recurrent miscarriage.

It feels like we have done this so many times now, the joy of a positive test followed by visits to the early pregnancy unit for reassurance. I hate everything about that place from the colour of the waiting room walls to the smell of the corridors and all the memories that come with it. The elation of being shown the flicker of a heartbeat, which gave us so much hope, followed two weeks later by yet more sorrow.

I have two beautiful children by my first marriage; I am one of the lucky ones. But I keep getting pregnant because I want to give my husband and I the one thing that we do not have - a little bit of us. Someone, as I said, who binds us all together.

I have read every article and searched every pregnancy forum for answers: everyone has a different opinion and no two are exactly the same. We have had tests and will no doubt need more, but it is so frustrating when there is no clear problem and no quick solution. I have been told by the professionals that miscarriage is very common and there is every chance that things will be fine next time. And while I know that statistically many women will experience one miscarriage in their lifetime, only 1% of women will suffer recurrent miscarriage (the occurrence of three or more consecutive miscarriages).

It really is the wrong 1% club to be a part of.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I took this whole process for granted. Having had two children in my twenties with no complications, I thought I would just be able to do it all again with no problems. I wrote about pregnancy loss after one miscarriage and an ectopic pregnancy. Since then, our road has been no easier with three more losses, the latest of which was almost one week shy of three months. My heart and my body feel broken.

The problem with recurrent miscarriage is the only thing that can relieve the sadness that engulfs every corner of your being, is to be pregnant again. There is a desperation to fill the void with the very thing that has been robbed from you. Each time hoping, that this will be the one that sticks. And when it doesn’t, you are literally catapulted back to square one. 

Each one lost but not forgotten.

It is lonely in the 1% club. The old you, that could welcome the weekend with a glass or two of something is gone. You are ‘trying’, but you have been trying for so long and as you have failed so many times, sticking to rules feels vital. Then, you have one less factor to blame when it all goes wrong. You long for an uncomplicated routine, to be able to plan ahead and for the weightlessness of not carrying grief around like a heavy but invisible burden. The secrecy that shrouds the first 12 weeks of pregnancy puts your life on hold. We have been in that phase five times in the last 15 months and it is both difficult and emotionally exhausting, most especially for the woman. Friends and family feel you pull away as you hide, waiting to see if this time, you can eventually share some happy news with them. And then you don’t. You feel as though you have hidden for no reason and that time has been wasted with nothing to show for it.

I have found it easier to cope knowing that some sort of support system was in place. A few key people who know my secret beyond my husband and are there, no matter the outcome. I have found comfort talking to friends who have also experienced loss and who understand the feelings that come hand in hand with the hormonal rollercoaster of miscarriage.

I haven’t shied away from my losses and I haven’t kept them to myself. It is a topic that is so sensitive and so very personal but recent research has highlighted the importance of asking for help and the links between miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy and anxiety and/or long term post-traumatic stress. Current articles have stressed that women need more support following early pregnancy loss as it can have a severely negative impact on mental health. It is a topic that we shy away from discussing; we don’t open up because it is not the done thing to mention our fertility, or lack of. But despite how difficult it might feel, talking is important and it is always okay to as for help.

Where do I go from here? When you have suffered recurrent miscarriage one of the things many people ask is “do you think you can go on and keep trying?” My answer is simple, “yes, absolutely yes.” In my mind, this journey and all this pain has to count for something. I do believe that I will hold our baby some day and when we do, we will be all the more grateful as a result of our story. Until then, I will ask for help, I will seek more answers and try to remember the woman I was before I joined the 1%. She is lost (for now) but not forgotten and as lonely as it sometimes feels, you are never alone.

For those suffering with any kind of pregnancy loss, I have listed some helpful websites below:

https://www.ectopic.org.uk

https://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk

http://www.sad.scot.nhs.uk/bereavement/pregnancy-loss-stillbirth-and-neonatal-death/

https://www.acog.org

https://www.figo.org/news/what-psychological-impact-miscarriage-0015410

https://www.tommys.org/our-organisation/research-by-cause/miscarriage/piepe-study

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The guilt that keeps on giving

I feel guilty for not having written for many months. Guilt, it can be a crippling emotion and one that seems to come hand in hand with modern day parenting and family life.

I often contemplate my role within my family, am I a good mother? Am I the best mother I can be? Am I a good wife (I clearly failed at that somewhere in my previous marriage)? Am I doing the best I can by everyone? The guilt associated with juggling family, work and personal life is tough and it seems to be an emotion that plagues women, more so than our male counterparts.

The holidays have drawn to a close and with life returning to a more normal routine, I feel the guilt kick in about whether my children enjoyed their summer. Did I do all I could to make it memorable for them? Did they have fun? This is the worst type of parental guilt. It is guilt that stems from the mismatch between our expectations, versus reality. Life never rolls out as it does in movies. Not every day can be ‘perfect’ because, that simply isn’t realistic. When I think back to my childhood, it is filled with happy memories but of course if I could be a fly on my own childhood wall, I will have had happy days, sad days, boring days and everything in between.

That is simply how real life works.

This type of guilt is perhaps compiled for our generation, because of the modern-day pressure to be perfect parents, to juggle family, careers, social lives and to maintain an ‘Instagram’ era lifestyle. I feel we are all agonising in secret, trying to manage all the facades and worrying that we are failing at all of them.

Nowadays, there is so much more information to hand about what our babies, children and families need, and the massive overload of content just feeds our self doubt and parental guilt. I look to my parents; how did they cope? How was parenting in their era? They had their pressures too, of course they did, but they seemed to have a more casual attitude to parenting and far less public pressure down to the lack if instantaneous content for comparison.

Social media is…the guilt that keeps on giving.

I can be left feeling guilty over ridiculous things. Why do I sometimes shout because I am tired? Why do I feel like I am missing their childhood in a haze of exhaustion? Other families on social media post idyllic summer holiday pictures of their immaculately dressed kids. If only I had more patience, more energy, more money, more time... Parenting guilt is tough, and our content overloaded lives are, without doubt, the root cause. Today, we judge ourselves continually. Against friends, against other families, against our own parents and our own upbringing – it is exhausting. With social media showing us all the ‘picture perfect’ side of everyone else’s lives, it is hard not to question if we are doing a good job.

I had babies in the midst of my early career days and getting back to work, having never fully established a career has been extremely hard. I see other mums seemingly juggling things better than I do but if you ask them, many of them feel guilty too. Parents and especially mums, often speak of feeling guilty for working, and/or, guilty for not working.

To work or not to work is…the guilt that keeps on giving.

For our parent’s generation, on the whole, the choices were simpler. Women generally stayed home with the children and the men went to work and provided the income. Society is still adapting to the generational shift towards both parents working and forging careers, but with the school day still ending at least two hours before the workday and with so many weeks of school holidays per year, there is still a huge childcare gap for working parents. Every family has to make decisions that suit them, their routine and their income but we all end up feeling guilty for the different choices we make, in comparison to everyone else.

I think the worst of my guilt kicks in when I consider my own childhood. My parents were together. Something my son can’t even recall of his own parents and a time that my daughter can barely remember. I can think back to my childhood of family weekends, Sunday lunches around the table together and adventurous holidays, in a social media free era. It was of course not perfect – what is? But it seemed simpler, and it felt secure.

Misplaced guilt is what we need to be very wary of, the expectations, versus reality guilt. If we continually compare our own life and family to everyone else’s, the guilt becomes unmanageable. Every so often I try to write an honest post on social media, I will celebrate the highs but publicly acknowledge the lows. Life is not perfect all of the time, if ever, and we can perhaps help each other to manage our expectations, by realistically managing our own.

Despite the negative side of guilt, it can be a positive and often useful emotion. It can remind us how we want to behave in life and what we consider to be important. If we hurt someone, guilt reminds us to make amends. If we shout at our kids because we were tired, guilt might make us think twice the next time. But ultimately, we need to exonerate ourselves. We need to let go and accept that we are only human, and that both life and parenting is inevitably tough and unpredictable. We need to accept that compromise is essential, and that nothing can, or ever will be, perfect. But above all, if we can try to stop comparing ourselves to others, if we can help each other by reflecting life more honestly, that would surly be the gift that keeps on giving instead.

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Mum’s the word on pregnancy loss

I can catch a glance of myself in the mirror and I look very drained at the moment. It is amazing how you can try to hide things but to be honest, I tend to wear everything I feel on my face anyway. I am trying to hide something, because we are not really meant to talk about it.

Mum’s the word on pregnancy loss after all. How fitting!  

We shy away from telling anyone we are expecting until the twelve-week mark, that is the unwritten rule. It makes a lot of sense. Things may not go to plan, things can get complicated and if you tell the whole world your happy news and then something goes wrong, you then have the heartache of having to let everyone know.

But then there is heartache anyway and where is the support?

In my late twenties I fell pregnant twice, in each instance I had uncomplicated pregnancies with fairly easy births and two healthy babies. That was all I knew of pregnancy and I took it totally for granted. In the Autumn of last year, Mr. T and I had our first positive but sadly it was short lived and I miscarried very early. I was devastated. It was an early pregnancy loss and I appreciated that others face far greater challenges with harder journeys and later losses. I already had two children with my ex-husband; I felt greedy and also unable to grieve what was hardly mine in the first place. But inside, my heartache was very real.

I had told a few close family members and friends that I was expecting and they supported us with the loss. It all happened around the time my daughter was having an operation and so I put it down to ‘bad timing’ and moved on. As women, we are meant to soldier on during these particularly tough times; you have to pick yourself back up, put on a brave face and pretend to everyone that nothing has happened. Why? Why are we so focussed on everyone else’s feelings of discomfort at bad news that we fail to address our own feelings on such things? I hid it all, just so not to upset others but I upset myself as a result. Bottling up grief, of any kind and in any circumstance, does not help the process: that was something that I learnt only too well from previous life experiences. Only a couple of months later and I took a test which showed the word that I had longed to see again. After my early miscarriage, I can’t deny that I was a nervous wreck but a few weeks passed and all seemed well. Again, the same few close family members and friends knew, all offering supportive words of encouragement that things would be different this time. This was a new pregnancy and a fresh start. 

I too began to feel more positive. 

Everything did feel very different but then suddenly it wasn’t. One evening, after collapsing at home I was admitted to hospital and underwent surgery to remove one fallopian tube and a little bean that had got its directions very wrong. Everything happened so fast. One minute you are pregnant and just beginning to plan this new life in your head and the next you are in post op recovery, beaten, bruised, confused and back to square one. To try and sum up my feelings, I would say I felt robbed and heartbroken while feeling mentally and physically (literally) torn to bits. They don’t mess around with ectopic pregnancies and neither should they but the invasiveness of it all, at a time when you are emotionally broken from the news that a pregnancy is not viable, is traumatic to say the least.

Once again in my life, I sought the words of other women on online forums - so many women all feeling the same trauma as I felt and also feeling the same sense of isolation. We all had a gasping need to find a place to talk because, we simply do not feel we can discuss pregnancy loss out loud. 

At home, I hid from the world but I did decide to tell friends this time. I had undergone an operation and I would be less mobile for a bit, parents at school might notice my absence and I was not about to lie. This has happened to me and what was the point of hiding from it? If I had had any other type of operation people would know and friends would rally, why should this be any different? 

And do you know what? It is okay to talk about pregnancy loss, IF you WANT or NEED to. I understand that it is a difficult topic to broach but perhaps if we talk a little more about it, then less women will suffer in silence or feel embarrassed. I felt embarrassment and that is totally and utterly wrong. People can be scared to mention the terrifying topic of miscarriage and then as a result we end up ignoring it completely.

When you share a story, you will find that others share theirs. This blog has taught me that. I was amazed how many friends had been through something themselves or known a family member or a friend who had also experienced a loss. Talking, helps others to talk. And more often than not, people are relieved to lift the burden and finally offload the secret they have been carrying with them too.

Long after the scars heal on the outside, we can still feel the ones that we are left with on the inside. They are simply invisible to the world. If it helps to talk, then talk and if it doesn’t then mum’s the word.

For those suffering with pregnancy loss I have listed some websites and groups:

https://www.ectopic.org.uk 

https://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk 

https://www.facebook.com/groups/275366965831264/ 

http://www.sad.scot.nhs.uk/bereavement/pregnancy-loss-stillbirth-and-neonatal-death/ 

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Some scars last a lifetime…

I sat here three years ago, mulling through many of the same things. We are in the same children’s ward. In the same hospital. There are exactly the same smells. Many of the staff are still the same. The parents camp bed is still uncomfortable. It is all so familiar. Three years on and so much has changed in our lives, yet many of the difficulties remain the same.

My daughter is in hospital having an operation that we have waited for since she was just a few months old. She was born with a leg discrepancy. When she was just two-years-old she underwent her first knee operation and then six months later, a second. At six-years-old she had another knee operation and then aged eight she had a fourth. Now, at nine-years-old, she has undergone a leg lengthening operation to fix a large external brace to her leg. She will remain in this brace for around eight months. She is remarkably strong and extremely determined. She is resilient and very brave. She is incredible.

My daughter is the one going through this. She is the person that is in and out of surgery and learning to cope with her new leg brace. But, I know that all you mothers and fathers out there will appreciate the toll that these situations can have on the parents. It is horrific watching your child go through any kind of pain. It never gets easier watching her go into theatre or to have to heal and adapt afterwards. As a mum, I find it unbelievably emotional and exhausting. Life during these periods is far from easy.

And this is where it comes back to the family dynamics. This is where the far from easy, becomes even further from anywhere that resembles easy.

There is me, her mummy. My ex-husband, her father. There is Mr. T, her step-father and the man who lives with her. And then there is my ex-husbands partner, the woman he had his affair with. I am happily remarried. But sadly, the two are not related. One does not absolve the other. My happiness and the loving support we now have from Mr. T, does not, and never will, exonerate the actions of my ex-husband and that woman. What they did to me and my children, and the endless repercussions of it all, remain unforgotten. I suffered PTSD following their affair and my marriage breakdown. I battled for two years with anxiety to find my feet again. They almost broke me.

But I am not broken.

So back to where we are now… During this difficult time, when a mother is caring for her daughter after the biggest operation she has ever faced, I really desperately needed space from the things that haunt me. I needed to stay strong for my daughter. I needed to stay strong for myself. I did not need any anxiety to return. It did.

In front of my daughter, I held things together. But, behind the scenes I crumbled, and I asked my ex-husband to give me space from ‘her’. He seemed to understand. I really did not need to feel any extra pressures during this period. But when I left my daughter in hospital, for some time at home to shower and recuperate, ‘she’ came anyway. Why did it cause me such distress and upset? Why did seeing a card left by her make my heart race and my chest tighten. My daughter and son spend two weekends a month with them as a couple when they stay with their father. I have had learned to cope with that. It is not easy, it never will be. But why did this hit me so hard? I should be used to it by now.

I asked my husband, my friends and my family to sanity check me. I turned to those who know me best. Everyone has given us space. Everyone has appreciated that my daughter is going through this, but that the role of the mum at times like this is also monumentally stressful and hard. Even some family have not visited in hospital because they appreciate the magnitude of it all. They respect the need for space and understanding.

I have sat here contemplating why I went back a few steps. Why did her presence with my daughter, at this time, become so stressful? One of my closest friends helped me to understand why I was struggling. There is always an underlying pain when you have been hurt so badly by someone. You can heal for the most part, but just like my daughter with her operations, you are left with scars. They are inevitable. After healing, you can cover things up, compartmentalise them to make it better but seeing the card from ‘her’ dredged up all those awful memories at a time when I was already so fragile. It is just like being more susceptible to catching a bug when you are already run down. With ‘her’, when I am feeling strong, I can box up the pain ‘she’ resembles and disregard it. But when I am already emotionally weakened, it completely knocked me for six.

I think this scenario has highlighted the awful scars ‘she’ has left me with. I once loved my ex-husband and he is the father of my children so somehow it is easier to accommodate the pain and understand the absolute need to have him around. He is my children’s father. He is vital, and they need him to be present in their lives. I have to move past things and parent with him. But ‘she’ symbolises all that went wrong. She is my biggest scar of all. The scar she left will never fully fade.

Everything is more complicated when you are a fractured family. I always find these times in hospital with my daughter difficult, but there is so much extra emotion that comes along with our family dynamics. Caring for our boy, collecting clothes, passing over toys and knowing that my son was sometimes in my husband’s flat and not simply at home. Having to work out daily plans to care for both our children, during this difficult time and juggling where everyone is staying. Ultimately, I also have to spend more time with my ex-husband and I find that very uncomfortable. It is just complicated and that adds extra emotion to an already emotional situation.

Three years on and so much has changed for the better in our lives, yet many of the difficulties remain the same.

Only time can heal the wounds, but sadly some scars last a lifetime. The only thing I have learned through all of this, is that no matter how hard things are, no matter how impossible they may seem, we have to learn to live with our own scars. As my daughter grows, hers will be truly visible and I will have to help her to accept them. Mine may be hidden but even so, I need to lead by example.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

My Jigsaw Heart

“Arrange whatever pieces come your way”– Virginia Woolf

We all know this blog started from a point of extreme heartache. I had mine broken by the one person, at that time in my life, that I thought was there to love and protect me. I could tell you that I have made my peace with what I went through, but that would be somewhat dishonest of me.

I understand that families can break up. People change, people fall apart. Love doesn’t always last forever. I do appreciate that I was and am as vulnerable as the next person, but I have still never quite worked out what happened to my ex-husband. My children’s lives were forever changed by his choices. As was mine. My heart became a broken jigsaw and I was left to figure out how to piece it all back together.

When families break up everything becomes more complicated. You are not simply one family, with two extended families on each side. You become two sections of the same piece and then you create more pieces as the jigsaw grows. Fitting everything and everyone together is a huge and daunting challenge. I am forever trying to figure out how to arrange all my jigsaw pieces so that they seemingly fit together.

My parents and siblings were heartbroken by what happened to me and my children. For a while, there was a shadow over our family and I felt responsible for a deep sadness that I could not control. They then embraced Mr. T and watched us all come together as a new family. They are always there to listen, to support and to offer love. They have always helped to hold my jigsaw together and remain a central piece of my puzzle.

I am still close with my ex-husband’s parents, his siblings and their families. They are very much a part of my children’s lives and always will be. I was ‘part of the brickwork’ as I remember my ex-husbands mother once saying, but despite no longer being married to my ex, me and my children will always be connected to them. They are family. They remain a big part of the picture.

Mr. T has joined the puzzle. He embraced me, my children and our home life and he is now an integral element of the family. He is my husband. He is the step-father of my children. He is the one person who adopted responsibilities that he did not have to and welcomed them non-the less. Mr. T brings with him, his parents, sibling, extended family and his friends. They have all become pivotal pieces of my jigsaw.

The friends who supported me through the worst of times. Those who stood by me when everything seemed impossible. They saw me at my worst and they got down and helped me pick up my broken pieces. They then watched and supported me to find happiness again. Along with those friends, I have met some amazing people on this journey. I owe them all a huge debt of gratitude. They are all individual and very special pieces of my life.

My ex-husband. If I am being honest, I feel sorry for him. I know that he would not want my pity. He chose this life for himself and for us all. But he left the family unit so near its conception and despite seeing his children regularly, he has a very separate family experience. He does not live with his children. He has missed out on the experience of living in a family home. There are so many little, daily things that happen within that unit and there is an overarching responsibility that comes with it. They visit his flat and they adore their time with their dad, but they very much see home as home. The children fit into his schedule, as opposed to him planning his entire life around theirs’. My whole life, and now Mr. T’s for that matter, are organised with the children at heart. It is just different. I don’t think that my ex-husband truly understands. Perhaps he never will. I don’t think that you can when you are standing slightly outside the box. Despite the way I feel about him. Despite what I think of his choices. He is the father of my children and he truly matters. He is part of my jigsaw.

There is the woman who, along with my ex, broke my children’s family apart. I do not know her. She has impacted my life so enormously and yet I have not had the courage to face her. She sees my children when they stay with their father. She plays with them. She hugs them. She influences their lives. I would never wish my situation on any other woman or mother – knowing that the person who split apart your family is ever present causes such anxiety. It is an incredibly uneasy feeling and one that I have had to learn to live with. She is part of my jigsaw.

I spend my life trying to keep all my pieces together because at the centre of this puzzle are the two most precious pieces of all. The children.

I need them to feel like this puzzle fits.

Even families who have not experienced divorce or a break up have many parts of their jigsaw to piece together. There are times in life where the puzzle feels easy and the picture is clear and then there are those times when things can fall apart and become a jumbled, unfathomable mess. 

Remember if this happens, you are always in control of how you choose to re-arrange the pieces. 

Learn from the past, take some time and then move forward and put the jigsaw back together as best you can. The picture may look very different but you never know, it may even look better than before.

No matter what, arrange whatever pieces come your way!

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

What Exactly Does It Say On This Ring…

It has taken me a while to come back to this blog, to write this particular post and to figure out what the future holds for ‘Not Exactly What It Says On The Ring’. In my last post I shared the news that Mr. T had proposed to me on our summer holiday and that I was getting re-married. I was overwhelmed by messages wishing me well but in among the congratulations lay the very reason to keep writing. It was the messages from those of you who wanted to thank me for the HOPE that my news had given them. They could read a real life account from someone who had suffered infidelity, a marriage breakdown and single parenthood and survived the betrayal to move their life forward and find happiness again.

This blog post introduces a whole new set of rings because at the end of last year, I walked down the aisle and for the second time in my life I exchanged wedding bands and I took a set of vows that I promised to honour, for better, for worse.

I would be lying if I said I was not terrified. As I wrote in my last post, remarriage follows divorce and with that comes the daunting vulnerability that something had not worked out well the first time. In my case, someone did not value me and our marriage enough to hold on to it. That vulnerability haunts me still. 

I thought a lot about marriage in the few months after Mr. T proposed and in the run up to our wedding day. This time, unlike when I was preparing to marry my ex-husband, I had a true understanding of what marriage meant, just how significant the vows I was going to take were and sadly, how it could all go wrong.

Fearing the worst and convincing yourself that something will not work, because something else had not worked out in the past, is simply foolish. Second chances are just that, a second chance at something that has every possibility of being successful. Do not enter a second marriage, lacing your new promises with your old regrets.

I understand that divorce can be emotionally crippling. I felt completely broken for quite some time, during and after my divorce. If you are tentative about even dating again, I completely understand. If you are convinced that you will never remarry, I empathise with those feelings too. I have felt them all. Divorce can be so unbelievably heart breaking that it is enough to put anyone off the idea of ever marrying again.

But please don’t write yourself off just yet. Never say never again.

My first marriage became irreversibly damaged and I was lost in the midst of despair for a while. I took time to reflect, heal and recover. I came to understand that my past would always be a part of me and that I would always feel pain over what happened but that that pain was not to dictate my future happiness. In the aftermath of my divorce, I had the opportunity to look very carefully at the man I chose the first time round. When things got difficult, he did not put his wife and children first. He did not fight for his family. He did not choose his marriage.

Marriage is a choice.

When Mr. T asked me to marry him, I said yes with a deep consciousness of the question that I was being posed. At the end of last year, we said ‘I do’ for the second time in both our lives and I can honestly say that things felt very different for me on our wedding day. This time neither of us faced marriage with the luxury of ignorant bliss. We carried with us, my children, our first marriages, our fears and insecurities and the combination of our journeys that had lead us both to this very point. During our vows, time seemed to slow and the words throughout our ceremony rang loud and clear. Second time around you are so aware of the commitment that you are both making to each other and the magnitude of it all.

Marriage is a choice. One you need to choose every day. I know, without doubt, that I appreciate Mr. T because of what I went through with my ex-husband. My painful past has transpired to be a positive life lesson.

Not every day within your marriage will be a ‘wedding day’ type of day. There will be many incredible days: celebrations, holidays, a promotion, the birth of a child. Then sadly, there will be those days that are impossible to get through: the loss of family, illness, job woes or money worries but in the midst of the highs and the lows there will be the mundane. Those days are the days you need to watch out for. Don’t underestimate that life, on the whole, is full of the mundane. I truly believe, that it was somewhere in the midst of those days that my ex-husband lost sight of me and our marriage. 

Make the mundane matter, choose your marriage each and every day and be grateful to have someone to walk the ordinary with.

You enter marriage for the second time with your eyes wide open and clarity of that kind can be incredibly moving. This time I held no delusions of the ‘perfect’ marriage or the ‘perfect’ spouse. I was not obsessed with the need for the ‘perfect’ wedding. I faced Mr. T and I knew that we were standing there together to commit to each other no matter the journey. Sharing the journey, even through the mundane, is exactly what it is all about.

So what exactly does it say on our rings? Well so far I have been hesitant to engrave anything on the inside of our bands at all. They are as yet, untouched and untarnished. Actions always speak louder than words, so perhaps this time that is how they should stay.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

‘I Do’ing it a second time

Four months have flown by since I wrote my last blog post. I am sorry to those who have asked or emailed about when a new post was coming. I have no excuse other than time seemed to evaporate over the summer, the mayhem of the school holidays with the children, juggling work and the fact that life has taken yet another unexpected plot twist for me.

‘I do’ing it a second time.

My last blog post detailed that over a year ago Mr. T entered our lives. As our relationship grew, he surprised me by breaking down the impenetrable brick wall that I had built around myself. I spoke of life adapting, yet again, to another emotional change and the balancing act that is navigating life amidst a blended family.

This July, on our first summer holiday as a family of four, Mr. T got down on one knee in the swimming pool, (yes he disappeared below the surface) holding his hand above the water to present an open ring box. I laughed. I cried. I was lost for words (that rarely happens to me) and without any doubts, I said ‘yes’.

I said yes to ‘I do’ing it again.

For any of you who have followed this blog from the beginning you will know that over four years ago, my life was very different. That woman back then would never have imagined that she would be writing this blog post. She was determined that the experience of her husband’s affair and subsequent abandonment, had shattered all hope of future happiness. I never thought I could get past that overwhelming heartache but if I can be the proof that anyone needs, here I am. Life never stays the same. Life keeps moving forward and it is so important that you choose to move with it.

But what does marriage look like a second time round? To be brutally honest, it looks much the same as it did the first time. Two people, very much in love, who want to build a life together and have all the hope and passion to drive that dream forward. All the foundations are there but this time around there are subtle differences. Subtle differences that may help or hinder, depending on what you choose to draw from your life experience.

My ex-husband was loyal and unbelievably loving for thirteen years and then something changed. We had been a strong and adoring couple, husband and wife, and then parents, and we rarely, if ever, argued. At the very moment he lost his way, he also lost his fight. He, or we for that matter, failed to see that conflict is an inevitable part of any relationship. 

I could see my ex-husband felt his affair was too big a hurdle to overcome. He didn’t want to have to work or fight to keep our family together. He gave up and saw the alternative ‘affair partner’ as a more alluring option as opposed to the hard work of resolving our conflict and moving forwards as a family.

I could lay all the blame in his court and see remarrying as easy for me because, I didn’t choose an affair and I didn’t leave my family, but that would be foolish on my part. I look back on my marriage and if anything I want to learn from the inexperienced expectation that I had of my future at that time.

There is no one perfect partner. It is unlikely that you will find yourself in a long-term relationship in which you will never argue or never see opposing sides of the same coin. Indulging in the illusion that finding the right partner will ultimately lead to a perfect, conflict-free relationship, is simply delusional. Having realistic expectations for relationships and for marriage, if you choose to take that step, could help you to avoid failure.

This time I have my eyes open. I have felt loss. I have felt the turmoil of someone breaking apart my family and that intense feeling of not knowing what the future holds. I have felt the agony of feeling devastatingly let down by someone I loved. I am entering marriage for a second time with the understanding that there may be hurdles to overcome. No, there WILL be hurdles to overcome. Life is, by its very nature, unpredictable and often hard.

Difficulties, of any kind, are not a signal for one or other partner to bail out and give up. Overcoming problems and facing them together allows for a relationship to evolve and the people within that relationship to grow. I am not saying remarriage is going to be easy. It follows divorce and with that comes the understandable vulnerability that something didn’t work out well in the past. In our case, we are both divorced. I felt it was so important that we lay our cards on the table. I wanted us to honestly and openly discuss our past history, our past failures and our regrets in order for us to both understand the pressures that will inhabit our present and future lives.

Remarrying, especially when children are involved, is a tough choice and unsurprisingly more complicated than first time around. There are far more people in the marriage than simply the two exchanging vows. I come as a package deal with my two children. They are my priority. But I have to make sure that my partner feels represented and a part of that, already existing, unit. The influences of exes are ever present and do not just wither with the choice to marry again. Exes live on in both our lives through memories and, in my case actual contact, through our children. Accepting each other’s past and acknowledging it is vitally important for the success of any future.

As I said in my last post, it is not simply a matter of making life in one home work but it also involves making life between two houses work. It is not simply life between two houses but, more crucially, with two couples sharing an involvement in how the whole plot thickens.

‘I do’ing it a second time is not necessarily an easy choice but then again marriage should not be viewed as ‘easy’ in the first instance. I cannot reiterate enough that life always keeps moving forward and it is so important that you choose to move forward with it. Try not to let a negative from your past stop you from having a positive future. Wherever you are on your journey, please know that there is a next chapter around the corner even if you can’t begin to imagine it now. 

As the saying goes, nothing worth having comes easy...Mr. T you are testament to that.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

My blended family…my life has an amazing cast but I can’t figure out the plot!

In this blog, I have openly detailed my marriage breakdown, my personal heartache, all the obstacles and setbacks that I have experienced while trying to rebuild my life and, more recently, how I have moved forward after such a significant trauma. My life IS now moving forward and new players have entered my stage but, goodness me, I can’t seem to figure out the plot! I think adjusting to life as part of a fractured and now ‘blended’ family (a term that seems to be commonly used these days) involves throwing out your previous script while accepting that nothing in life is for certain and nothing stays the same. Improvising is certainly the name of the game.

At the very start of this blog, I wrote about the events in my life that lead me to start writing ‘Not Exactly What It Says On The Ring’. The breakdown of my marriage and the utter shockwaves it sent through my life and the lives of those around me. But in order for that to make any sense to any reader I also detailed, in brief, the close relationship that I shared with my ex-husband before his affair. I used our wedding day as a way to highlight this and my words read:  

“With not a single doubt in my mind that I would spend the rest of my life with this man, I took the vows that I held close to my heart and I never broke them. The speech that he gave at our wedding had many of our guests in tears. He said that no matter where he was in the world, as long as he was with me, he felt a sense of being at home.”

In the words of my ex-husband, I was his home.

Over the past few years, I have had to come to terms with the overwhelming change in my family dynamics. My ex-husband decided to unexpectedly exit stage left. Home, as we all knew it, was changed forever. Learning to adapt in life is key, especially when circumstances are not of our own making or choice. The heartache and aftermath after an affair and family collapse is all consuming. Life becomes a game of survival until you figure out your new script. Once a little of the mist had lifted, I was strong enough to take back some creative control and I then began to re-evaluate everything. I felt things more deeply. I gained strength. Plans changed. Previous goals were not necessarily relevant and I had to learn to adjust to a very new set of circumstances.

My children and I live in the family home and my ex-husband and the other woman live in a flat not far away. To say this is an easy setup would be a lie. Having the other woman ever-present has made circumstances complicated and continually painful but it proves another life truth, we are not the only directors in our ongoing story. People will make choices that affect you and you will no doubt do the same to others. We all play a role in each other’s lives and the knock on effects are endless. “Oh! What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive”.

The children and I have adjusted to our new family life and my ex plays his part time role. The last few years have been an adjustment for us all. They have been incredibly hard but after dipping my toe in the dating pool with no luck, even more unexpectedly, enter stage right…Mr T.

Here we go again, life has had to adapt and change with the addition of a new major player, landing a starring part. Fast forward a year and Mr. T has become a best friend, a partner and a step-dad (although we don’t use that phrase yet). He now lives with us and we are a perfectly, imperfect, blended family. While there may be thousands of books and blogs on blended families, no one voice will be able to speak your exact set of circumstances. I have had to come to realise, yet again, that there is no one script that we can follow. The pages keep changing.  

Being a parent is a tough role and family living can be difficult to navigate, but believe me, trying to find a balance amidst a blended family takes a huge amount of courage and patience. It is not simply a matter of making life in one home work but it also involves making life between two houses work. It is not simply life between two houses but, more crucially, with two couples sharing an involvement in how the whole plot thickens. There are endless possibilities for posts on this and I will endeavour to tackle as many relevant topics on blended families as I can.

I would like to be able to say that I find it easy, but I can’t. I wish I could tell you that I always remain calm, but I don’t. I would love to say that I have never doubted any of the choices that I have made but I would be lying. Sometimes I look back and nothing makes any sense to me at all but then I look at Mr. T. I look at the man, now living with my children and playing his major part in our family story and I think, if I hadn’t been put on this path I would never have met you. If I hadn’t been crushed the way that I was, would I appreciate this second chance the way that I do? There is a deep appreciation that comes from having felt great sorrow.

I still feel pain over the past. I want those of you experiencing a family break-up, (those of you who email me about how to move on despite still struggling) that you can move on while still grieving over a past or present pain. We are not perfect. We are not expected to experience great heartache or distress and come out unscathed and untroubled by it. Big life events are the things that shape our character but they do not need to define the ongoing story or our final plot. Who knows what the plot is meant to be? I have come to accept that perhaps we should stop trying to figure this out. Perhaps there is none. The storyline is ever changing and undefined. Embracing that may well just be the most liberating thing of all.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

You have to trust in the journey you are given

I drive my children to school every weekday. We all get into the car, after the usual mayhem of dragging the kids through the same routine of breakfast and the uniform tussle, the tunes go on and we settle into our journey. As I take the same route every day, I have come to recognise familiar faces in other commuters as we pass them by. I can judge whether we are running late by the point that I see them on their walk to work and there is a childish comfort in the familiarity of it all.

There is one particular couple who I have noticed each morning. They are not that much younger than me and as the months have passed I have seen her bump grow. I think it is their first. They are not walking another little person to school or nursery and they seem very calm. The calmness we all had before the storm. They always hold hands and talk away to one another; there is a beauty about watching their journey as I make my own each morning.

This woman trusts that the man she walks beside will care for her and the growing bundle that she carries. When we start a family, we subconsciously place a certain amount of expectation for our future happiness in the hands of another. We trust in the commitment. We expect that that person will care for us and the family that we have created. On the whole, that is the case.

I unequivocally trusted my ex. He was my best friend before he became my husband. I placed all my trust in his hands and never imagined him betraying me. There is a saying that it takes years to build trust, seconds to break it and forever to repair it. I agree with the latter two statements but not necessarily the first. I trusted my ex from the day I met him. I think, generally, I tended to put my trust in others until broken. It was something that I offered, like a handshake, when I was introduced to someone and then, if I felt it was misplaced, I could retreat or reconsider.

Trust is a hugely important foundation for any type of relationship, whether it concerns family, friends or a partner. Trust and belief in ourselves is also crucial. As I had my heart so severely broken I feared that I would struggle with both. Would I be able to trust again, not only in others but also in myself?

For a while, the answer was no!

Once your trust has been broken, it will severely shape the relationship between you and that particular person who broke it, but more broadly it affects the way that you trust everything else in your life. I spent a long time feeling scared and very lost because I simply couldn’t find my way to trust in anything – people, circumstances, the choices that I made – I lacked confidence in every realm.

Last year I wrote a post about learning to love again. Back then, I was still figuring everything out. I did not entirely trust myself and I spoke of the fact that I had lost my ability to trust others unreservedly. I was fearful of allowing myself to feel vulnerable again. Sadly, and I can say from experience, without vulnerability, without offering trust to others, the world can be a very lonely place.

You HAVE to learn to trust again.

I battled with myself over whether I should ever have trusted my ex-husband, over whether I should have seen a pattern of selfish behaviour that was always there. There is an element of truth in that but I loved him and I trusted that ultimately he would care for me and my children. His betrayal led me to doubt my own decision making ability. But although my ex let us down beyond repair, I could never have predicted the path he would eventually choose. As I often say, this was not exactly what it says on the ring!

We simply don’t have a crystal ball which allows us to curtail our bad choices. In any case, would I have changed my path anyway? No, because then I would not have my two beautiful children and I would almost certainly never have met Mr T.

In the end, we just have to trust in the journey we are given.

I have come to realise one thing, in order to move forward after an affair or a partnership breakdown you have to let go. You have to trust again despite everything in you conscience telling you otherwise. You have to trust yourself and be able to place that trust in others, whether it be old friends, new friends or a new partner. Allow the past to wash over you and trust in an alternative future.  We have no choice really. We cannot change what has gone before and it is unhealthy to tarnish others (or yourself) with any doubt or mistrust bestowed upon you by one particular person.

I will continue to drive my children to school each morning, knowing that I am there to watch their journey each day, as we watch the journeys of others that pass us by. I have learnt to trust myself again and I will continue to offer my trust to others, like a handshake, with the knowledge that it will not always be kept. But that is life and I have chosen to trust in the journey that I have been given.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

Hold on and just take it one day at a time.

I have been emailing a woman recently; she has been struggling with the breakdown of her marriage, struggling in a way that I can remember so vividly. It feels so similar to my experience that I can actually feel her pain. This post is for her.

I can still, even now, have the wind knocked out of me when I recall the distress that I once felt at the hands of my ex-husband. I can still remember the shadow of a woman that he reduced me to. I don’t think that wound will every completely heal. It was simply too heartbreaking.

I honestly never thought that I would ever feel whole or happy again. Back then, as that woman, the idea seemed utterly impossible. But I do feel whole again and I am happy.  I am asking those of you who are struggling like I did, to hold on...please hold on. It may feel impossible right now but you can move forward and build your life again.

I do not wish to sound patronising or arrogant. I do not want to belittle the pain or complication that you may be feeling at this moment in time. I have been in that place. I too felt lost and confused. I also felt beaten and broken. I felt as though life would never balance itself again and that happiness was a distant memory that I would have to dream of in my sleep. I want to give you hope. I want to provide strength. I want to offer the knowledge that things can feel better. Give it time and when you feel a little bit stronger, you will be able to muster all the determination required to push through and take control of your future.  

I still do not understand why my ex-husband chose the path he did. I have never come to terms with why he had an affair and then chose a life, separate from me and his children. Those who knew us well as a couple, who also knew us as a family, do not fathom the choices he made. I think trying to understand these things can send you crazy. I know it sent me to a place of madness for a while. The quicker that you can stop wasting time on wondering why your partner wronged you and start focussing, totally, on yourself, your children and your future life, the better. This may take time and patience. I am not saying it will happen overnight but start to make small daily changes to build your confidence and thus your hope. This is all possible.    

Being a single mother is perhaps my greatest achievement to date. When my ex-husband left us, I was broken, but I fought onward. I took care of my children and pulled us all through what seemed an impossible web of deceit. I will always look back on those days with mixed emotions. I can still feel grief and pain but I also feel huge amounts of strength and pride. It is in times of trouble that we find our fight and our depth of character.  

My life back then was an exhausting juggling act and I felt very alone. As a single parent, you feel hugely isolated, even if you have the unconditional support of family and friends. It is the scariest situation I have ever found myself in and I was driven there by the one person I thought would always keep me safe. I felt then that I would always be alone. I didn’t imagine finding a partner again, or truly letting anyone in to my heart long enough to feel utterly confident in their hands. You do not NEED a partner to feel safe. You do not NEED a partner to be a good parent. As a single mother, I felt more capable than ever. When you are in it alone you work harder and you fight every battle single-handedly

I have found someone. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t actually looking for it. Someone walked into my life and the brick wall that I had built around me, in order to protect me from ever feeling venerable again, started to crumble. It was emotionally hard to let Mr. T get close to me. Even harder to let him meet my children and become part of their lives (perhaps a blog post to follow on that theme). I felt so protective of my two babies but surely if I am happy then that ultimately has a positive impact on them. Despite my past I needed to let it go and give an alternative future a fighting chance.

If there is a silver lining to be had from such heartache, from all my loss, it is my heightened appreciation of my children, my partner, my family and friends. Having lost what I felt was everything; I now appreciate everything that I have so much more. More than ever before, I choose to invest, take care and value those in my life. We must not take our relationships for granted. So often when we think we are missing out, we are blinding ourselves by a false impression of what could be. We are looking at a misleading perception of perfection in a potential alternative choice. No one person, no one choice, is ever perfect. Life is a complicated web of imperfection. The sooner we understand that, the sooner we can invest in what we have and embrace the good with the bad. The grass is never truly greener.

Please hold on. Hold on for just one day at a time. Fight through the initial period of pain and heartache. Ride what will feel like an emotional rollercoaster for a while. Work through the anger and upset and then find that place within you, that place where you suddenly grasp enough strength to start a fresh. The place where you come to realise that just because one future has faded it does not mean that you cannot create an alternative, perhaps even better one.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

Another year older, another year wiser

I can’t believe it is that time of year again.... It doesn’t seem that long ago since I was last organising for Christmas and ticking off endless lists in preparation. Another year older, another year wiser, so they say. But do I feel any wiser than I was a year ago? Have I figured out how to make this whole ‘fractured’ family thing work?

Last year I wrote about how the festive season is hard for me. I have always deeply loved Christmas time and back when family life was starting out for me, as a mother, I fully expected many memorable family Christmases to lie ahead for me, my (at the time) husband and my two children.

This is our third year without him and despite life being very different now, and very happy in so many ways, finding happiness again does not stop the past from hurting or change the fact that the present circumstances are so very different from what you had imagined life being like. Christmas can be very tough when you are balancing a ‘fractured’ family.  

I adore the idea that Christmas brings people together. I wrote last year of the wonderful sense of magic that it provokes. Christmas has an amazing ability to make one think about those we love and it makes us reflect and be thankful for all that we have. But one thing that I said last year still rings true. The drawback of all this love and magic is that when things are not quite as they should be, those feelings are heightened too.

This year has seen so many changes in my life and in my children’s. I have met a wonderful man and my children thankfully, adore him. I have learnt to let go of some of that fear that was holding me back and have decided to follow my heart again. I know that this did not serve me well the first time around, but I have also learnt that we can’t live our lives in the shadows of our past disappointments.

Christmas fills me with happiness but there is sadly still a dull ache inside me. It is the ache of a mother who wishes that life was simpler for her children. I wish I could take away the heartache and all the millions of questions that they have had (so far) over their daddy leaving us. I wish family life had been straightforward for them. It will never be straightforward now, but I do believe that we are in a happier place than the three of us were this time last year. I have found happiness through the confusion and I guess that is what my life now entails. It is complicated, confusing and fractured but ultimately I do not have to be lonely or sad just because of what we have all been put through. It is a choice, a choice to be happy.

I have so many family and friends to thank for the support they have given us every step of the way. We feel much loved and hugely protected by all who know and care for us. I also have to thank Mr. T. He has broken down barriers for me that I once believed would be there indefinitely. He supports, loves and challenges me, but above all, he is honest. A quality I now know is the most important character of any human, friend, family or partner.  

To those of you, who are similarly dealing with tough family dynamics, remember that emotions are always sensitive at Christmas. Be kind to yourself and don’t blame yourself (or excessively worry) about the things that you cannot control in your life. I have had to learn that lesson several times over in the last three and a half years. Perhaps that is the lesson that I have come to accept this year, perhaps that is what has made me a little bit wiser. Sadly our lives can be changed irrevocably by the actions of others but it is so important to draw strength from all the positive influences around you and continue to build on the life you have. We are in control of how we react to our circumstances and thus the true makers of our ultimate destinies.

Wishing you all very Happy Christmas and all the best wishes for a healthy and joyful 2017!  

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

While there's moonlight and music and love and romance, let’s face the music and dance.

There may be trouble ahead...my ex husband and I actually chose this song for our first dance on our wedding day. Oh, the irony!

We wanted something that made light of the tradition, as opposed to being overly romantic and serious. We found it funny. We joked at the time of choosing that there would be tough times ahead but that we would face the music together and dance. Oh how wrong we were. Tough times, yes but my ex-husband did not face the music with me. He left.

We were together for thirteen years, married for just shy of five before he had an affair. Once our daughter arrived, life changed somewhat – show me a couple that don’t feel a relationship shift when their first born arrives. Despite the life adjustment, my ex-husband did his best to help with our children while also juggling work. We had decided, together, that I would be a full time mum. He wanted me to be there for our babies in their early years, as did I. A mutual choice, with mutual respect for the roles we would both be playing.

I have often looked back and questioned everything from that time in my life. I questioned everything about our marriage. I was desperately looking for the answers to why he had an affair but more than that, why he ultimately left us. We had previously been so strong. What went so wrong for him?

I have come to the conclusion that he just didn’t have it in him to face the music and dance.

I read a blog post recently by an anonymous writer and it talked about the breakdown of her marriage. I cannot comment on the circumstances or the choice they made to end their marriage. Each situation is so different and every couple has to do what they believe is in the best interests of their family. She said they were both desperately unhappy and that it was affecting the family as a whole. Sadly, at times, ending a marriage seems the only way to move forward. But one particular comment within this post struck a chord with me. One sentence really tugged at my heartstrings. After discussing how difficult it was to end the marriage and relaying the point of view that it is better to leave if you are deeply unhappy, (which I do understand) the writer effectively said that is was the best decision because her and her husband DESERVED the love that they shared on their wedding day, even if it is not with each other.

I have to ask…are we beginning to lose sight of what marriage or a loving committed relationship is really all about? Is there some confusion between the early, pre-baby days of a relationship, the honeymoon period (literally) after a wedding and how tough a lasting family commitment and marriage is undoubtedly going to be? Marriage is hard. Love is hard. Real life, roll your sleeves up love, is so much more than those feelings of lust and romance in the first few years of a relationship. Seeing someone through the bad times is what marriage, and more specifically, REAL love is all about. Not the falling in love phase. Goodness me, we can all fall in love. Falling in love is easy! Real, lasting love comes with hard work and involves supporting someone through the rough not just the smooth. Can we possibly say that we all DESERVE to feel the ‘movie’ style love that we felt on our wedding day each and every day of our marriage or partnership? It is simply not realistic; it is not real life love.  

We all do it; we all daydream about a time before we were truly responsible before marriage, home ownership, mortgages, bills, kids and family routines. As you get older, life takes over but in your teens and twenties you can be far more carefree and spontaneous. No kids, no kidding that the choices you make can be wholeheartedly self-centered.

We can all ponder the ‘what ifs’. It is easy to look back on one’s life, hoping that there is some way to recapture that lost youth. A time machine, perhaps, allowing you to relive the fiery romance at the start of your relationship over and over again. But there is one major problem: time has a way of beating you. You cannot stop the clock from moving forward, no matter how hard you try. Embracing life in all its stages is the healthier way to live. Chasing the impossible is simply avoiding the inevitable.

Relationships are hard work. Relationships need nurtured and perpetually revived. They take time and effort. More so, once you have children, the spontaneity evaporates and is replaced by organised date nights and costly babysitters. It means remembering to ask, ‘how was your day?’ even if you are utterly shattered from a full day of juggling work, childcare, nappies and school runs. It means opening up when you may want to shut down. It means remembering to take time for each other amidst the chaos of family life. It means facing the very hard times together and perhaps falling out of love to have to put it all back together again, because ultimately that is the commitment you made to each other and to your children.

I am not saying that those of you who are desperately unhappy, should stay locked in a resentful marriage or others should put up with abuse or infidelity just for the sake of family, of course not! When a marriage suffers real, ingrained issues, it is sometimes in the best interests of all involved to do what is right and that may mean separation or divorce. I am saying that, on the whole, we need to enter marriage with the pragmatic view that the ‘honeymoon’ period will eventually fade but that does not mean that the love is over. The love is not over, just because you don’t bonk every night of the week. The love is not over just because you don’t blush every time your partner enters a room. Love evolves and changes; it becomes a different kind of love. It is a far more real love especially because of any hardships.

Having been given a second chance at this relationship thing, I am far more aware of what I want because of the pain that I have been through. I want a partner who will fight for me and our family. I want a team mate who won’t bail when the going gets tough, because in life, the going always gets tough from time to time. I want a man to challenge me when needed, support me if asked and comfort me when necessary, just as I will do for him. I want someone to stand by me always because even after the butterflies have faded, real love, through respect and friendship can last forever.

For now, I am very happily revelling in the butterflies once again but one thing is for sure there may be trouble ahead but while there's moonlight and music and love and romance, let’s face the music and dance.

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

A New Hope...and no, this post is not about Star Wars!

I have mentioned a couple of times in recent posts that I am dating again. Until now, it has not seemed appropriate to talk about it in this blog and to be honest, I also haven’t been ready. I now feel ready. I am ready because for the first time since the end of my marriage I am wholeheartedly hopeful again!

Hope. It is a very small word but it is such an important and poignant feeling. For a long time, I had lost all hope. I had lost hope for my family happiness, for my personal happiness and for my ability to move forward with any dreams that I had previously held. Life stopped for a while. I continued as always, with day-to-day life, but inside I had shut down completely.

I was just surviving.  

Over a year ago I tried dating for the first time but sadly it didn’t work out. Failing at something is not always a failure though. Failing at something can sometimes show you that you are simply not ready yet. Not only was I not ready to date back then, but I needed to understand that despite feeling wanted again, I also needed to feel content with being alone. As I said in my last post, I actually needed to learn to be comfortable as a single mum but also as a single woman.

I took some time to do that and it was without a doubt, vital.  I came to a place where I was in command of my single parent role, I had processed the events of the previous few years and I could confidently say out loud ‘I am a single woman.’

Six months ago I was frantically getting ready to go to a dance. My sister was helping me with the children and at one point, in the midst of tiredness and mayhem, I considered calling off. I didn’t call off that evening. I put on some make-up, slipped into a dress and squeezed myself into my sister’s Mini. She drove me, along with my two excited little ones dressed in their PJ’s. They were all hugely wound-up to take ‘Cinderella to the ball!”

That evening I sat next to a man that I didn’t know. We had mutual friends in common and we knew each other by name but we had not properly met before. He turned to me and introduced himself and then said ‘I believe we have something in common’, ‘yes?’ I asked. ‘We are both divorced.’ he replied. A feeling of relief came over me. I didn’t have to wear a label with him. Whatever his story, no matter his feelings on mine, I would not be judged by my marital status. His eyes captured me from his first gaze but as the evening wore on there was a very definite connection between two people and no matter what the outcome, we would certainly be good friends.

I am not about to go into some long drawn out love story about us (definitely not my style) but it is safe to say, it has been a rollercoaster of a few months. He has tried his utmost to be patient with me and all the fears I have about dating again; I have had many new realisations and ‘firsts’ since meeting him.

Last weekend, we attended a wedding together. He messaged a couple of weeks earlier to say that his friend had invited me to join him as his plus one. I said yes. It was only after accepting the kind invitation that I asked where the wedding was. Oh yes, you guessed it - the chapel that I had been married in only eight years previously. Could I actually do this? Could I return to the place which had held so much hope for me and would this experience become an associated memory of subsequent heartache?

Mr. T (as I will now refer to him, sorry I simply hate the terms boyfriend or partner) offered me a get out. He said that he would totally understand if I felt it was too much. But no, I actually wanted to face this. I also wanted to be there for him. I wanted to be on his arm at his friend’s wedding. His family were all going to be there too and this meant something to him.

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t wake up that day feeling some dread and fear. I would be lying if I said that when I walked towards the chapel I didn’t remember walking through those gates in my wedding dress with all the hopes for my happy marriage ahead of me. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until DIVORCE do us part. I am pretty sure that is not how my vows went on the big day!

I would be lying if I said it didn’t feel at all strange walking down that aisle to my seat holding the hand of another man. Many thoughts entered my mind but I was determined to face this. I was determined to keep my head held high and not let the past dictate my future. My future is ahead of me and my hope for a happy one has finally returned.  

It was a beautiful service and, funnily enough, it was all centred on how life is full of hope - the hopes we all have in our lives, for ourselves and for our friends and family. It spoke of how we may have had failed relationships but, despite the sadness of that failure, we must have hope for a second chance at love. It was very fitting. I listened and as Mr. T took my hand and looked into my eyes, reassuringly asking me if I was okay, I felt more hopefully than ever: ‘Yes, I am absolutely okay.’

My ex-husband gave up hope. He left a very loving wife and two beautiful children because he lost his way. He didn’t have enough loyalty to his family and he wasn’t able to be a faithful husband or father. Fitting with the title of this post, the wise Obi-Wan Kenobi once said, ‘Who’s the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?’ I have not lost my way and I will not lose my hope because of someone else’s foolish actions. I have remained true to myself and to my family and friends in spite of everything.

I have no idea where Mr. T and I will end up. After the past few years, I have given up ever trying to predict what life might throw at me. It is simply not possible to plan it that way. All I do know is that in this moment, I am once again hopeful and very happy.

Thank you Mr. T for your support with this post and thank you for your patience with me. It can’t be easy dating a single mum of two who bears her heart to the world.

A new hope…to all those who have lost theirs, like I had three years ago, or to those on any chapter of this journey in-between or after, try to hold on to your ability to hope for things in life. Remain positive and above all don’t let your past heartache or disappointments dictate your potential for future happiness.  

‘Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.’ Desmond Tutu

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

Mumsnet Blogging Awards 2016 - Shortlisted for Best Writer!

I can't quite contain the excitement of being shortlisted in the Best Writer category of the Mumsnet Blogging Awards!!! #MNBlogAwards Thank you so so much to all of you who voted to get me this far!

Having started this blog just under a year ago, I am so overwhelmed by the loving response from family, friends and complete strangers. If it has managed to help or comfort even one other person who has been through, or is going through, something similar to the journey I have experienced then it has served the purpose for which it was created.

To all those single parents out there, struggling or feeling a little alone, please remember that you are far from ever being alone! Life does not always pan out as we expect it to but I have now learnt to dance to a different tune. That, I have come to realise, is a very important life lesson.

Please follow the below link and it's one check box to vote for the final! Thank you again for all the love and support!!

http://www.mumsnet.com/events/blogging-awards/2016/best-writer

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

Dipping my toe in the water...my first summer holiday as a single mum!

Summer holidays always incite wonderfully happy memories for me. From family holidays as a child, visiting historical places by day and longing for the time when my siblings and I could return to the fun of the swimming pool. Then holidays with friends, drinking and dancing into the small hours of the morning with lazy days nursing hangovers by the pool. And finally holidays with my ex-husband. Happy adventures as a couple (pre children) to the glorious mayhem of travelling abroad with the kids.

The excitement of knowing you would feel the sun on your skin, smelling unfamiliar places whilst exploring different countries. That wonderful feeling as you take your first sip of wine in the evening, under the warmth of a clear, starry, foreign sky, is just simply magical.

Summer holidays are not as magical as they used to be. The idea of them sadly filled me more with dread, than with enthusiasm. It used to be a matter of deciding on a staycation or a holiday abroad, then happily chatting over ideas and possibilities as a couple. I was holidaying with another adult companion and once children were thrown into the mix, there was the comfort of two parents to handle the chaos of travelling with small maniacs.

When my husband left, my children were only two and four. The idea of figuring out how to take them aboard by myself absolutely terrified me. I was recovering from the biggest upheaval that my life had experienced thus far and I was certainly not brave enough yet to travel alone with them.

I did not manage a summer holiday that year.

I did not manage a summer holiday the following year.

This year I finally decided that it was time to face my fears. I wanted to take us abroad. I wanted to do it alone. It felt necessary, not only for my own personal reasons but for the sake of my beautiful children and their childhood memories. I wanted them to experience some of what I had growing up.

I put off booking anything. And I put off booking anything for a little bit longer. So many different thoughts invaded my mind and prevented me from taking the leap.

I am not a particularly confident flyer. I fear driving abroad. I dreaded the idea of being alone in the evenings when the kids were in bed. This is where it all begins to sound a little too depressing. Do you sit in a hotel room being very quiet because the kids are asleep or do you sit alone in an apartment with a bottle of vino for one? Then there is swimming with two kids. What if one needs the loo and the other doesn’t?! That scenario can play out in endless situations like at lunch, dinner or visiting tourist attractions. I can’t leave one child with my non-existent husband or partner while I accompany the other.

Despite all this, I realised that I was just looking for excuses to avoid something that I was scared of. I was scared of the unknown more than I was actually scared of any of the above. I just felt sad that this is what my family situation now entails. The single parent holiday!

So I finally mustered some courage and I booked us one week, in Portugal. I booked a small apartment in an all inclusive resort. The first single mum trip had to be relatively straightforward with few major hurdles. Flying but no driving, and the three of us would pull together to figure out the rest. I was taking us abroad and I was doing it solo!

So how is single parent holidaying?  

I am not going to lie, it was tough at times.

There was no one else to share the tasks with, no one else to check the lists with, get the kids through customs with. There was no other adult to get excited with or raise a glass of wine with on the first evening, safe in the knowledge that the journey was over and that we hadn’t lost a child or killed each other trying to keep them restrained and peaceful on the plane. I had arrived safe and sound, two children in tow but I felt a somewhat deflated.

We went to the pool that afternoon and settled in. The sun was shining and I realised that I had totally forgotten what it felt like to be on holiday under the warmth of a summer sun. It had been three years since I had been away and a pretty horrific three at that. The children were elated. They swam, drank lemonade and played in and out of the pool all afternoon. In only a few short hours since our arrival, the three of us had made memories that would last a lifetime. We were finally on holiday, away from it all, away from the mundane routine of home. We had finally escaped!

That evening, the kids were bathed, after-sun on, dressed and sitting watching some pre supper TV. Cartoons, in Portuguese are apparently just as funny as in English! I had showered and as I put on my dress and went to pick up a necklace, my eyes filled with tears. Who was I dressing for? I had no partner or friend to spend the evening with. I had no adult company to share a bottle of wine with and talk about what the week ahead might hold. As the sun set and I heard the crickets in the warm breeze, despite having the two most important people in my life with me, I felt very alone.

We went for dinner and we chatted about the journey and our first afternoon. The children reminded me what this was really all about. They told me that that day had been the best day of their lives. They talked about the airport, flying on an aeroplane, the pool and how they loved swimming in such warm weather. We went to watch the evening’s entertainment and they danced and made instant friends with others, like only children know how. I wasn’t alone. I was witnessing my babies losing themselves in the magic of a summer holiday!

During that week we had trips to the beach, walks through the local town, visits to local museums and churches. We had lunches out and spent our afternoons playing by the pool. In the evenings we danced and the children revelled in the hotel entertainment. I watched the tan slowing build on my skin and the confidence slowly grow inside me. I put on dress every evening, because despite being the only adult on this holiday, I was far from being alone.

I have had to adapt to being single again. Until very recently I have remained single, for the most part, since my husband left two and a half years ago. I now know how important it is to feel comfortable in that place, comfortable and confident as a single parent and as a single woman. I have found my independence and my peace with being alone. That is such a fundamentally important process and one that allows for a positive partnership with someone new if and when one does come along.

I took my children abroad. I finally did it. I faced my fears and I realised that there is far more to fear in lonely contemplation than there is in reality. I did it for my children. I gave them a summer holiday, the first they will ever remember. They had stories to tell when they returned to school. They too had summer holiday memories to exchange with their friends. I gave them some normality, after a few years of chaos, the three of us felt very strong together.

The firsts are always hard. Whenever I encounter one, I worry, waver and wobble. But, I always get there in the end. Next summer will be easier. Next summer will not be a hurdle. Next summer the world is our oyster!

[notexactlywhatitsaysonthering]

When life throws you lemons...and you don’t like gin and tonic

I am in the midst of writing a blog post about my first summer holiday aboard with the kids (as a single mum). It was a hugely important achievement for me. It is a very important single parent topic. Taking them abroad on my own was all about facing my fears, overcoming them and then realising, as always, that I am stronger than I ever give myself credit for.

But I am stopping to write this very brief post instead. I feel slightly beaten at the moment. I am totally exhausted. First solo holiday abroad, seven weeks of summer juggling work and entertaining the children. Then the mayhem of back to school. All the organising, the shopping and above all, the emotional side of it being my son’s first year of primary. He is now a school boy. This should have been a wonderfully happy family milestone but, as you might expect, it is at times like this when I feel the impact our fractured family more than ever. We feel distant. We are distant. We have to organise for daddy to be there.

It is not a seamless picturesque family memory.

Single parent life is so exhausting. I do not have the emotional crutch of their father or my ex-husband. I am the sole organiser. My life revolves entirely around them. They rely entirely upon me. I am where the buck stops. Why? Because the full weight of responsibility has been left in my hands.  

I am moving forward. I am dating again. I am happy. I am trying to do everything for my children and for their future. But I feel like, for some reason, that life keeps throwing me lemons.

Every time I turn a corner, I seem to take two steps back. Something will happen. The children will be unexpectedly emotional. Out of nowhere they might tear up and ask why daddy doesn’t just come back home to us. Or I may have a personal crisis to deal with, from the missing cat to a smashed window, the broken washing machine to the endless family bills. There is continuing difficulties with my personal healing and learning to trust again after such a crippling family upheaval, or there are the many ‘firsts’, some of which I find almost too emotionally challenging.

The list is seemingly endless.  

Perhaps what it is that I have to get my head around, is that life is not meant to be easy. Life is a relentless rollercoaster of highs and lows. It is an endurance test for the soul. The highs are wonderfully rewarding. But the lows are there, to not only test us, but to also make us appreciate the good times when they come. One without the other would seem almost fruitless.  

I think I have to stop hoping that I will feel fine one day about everything that has happened to me. I think I have to stop waiting for things to become easier. I think ‘easy’ is simply not something that goes hand in hand with having a family. There are too many working components to consider and endless possibilities for heartache or worry. After all, when you are lucky enough to have people to love, both family and friends, we all face the likelihood of watching them in pain or worse still losing them altogether as time goes on. We all have to face the upsets and challenges that are inevitably thrown at us over the years. It is all part of life’s rich tapestry as they say.  

So I guess if I feel like life keeps throwing me lemons (and sadly gin and tonic is just not my tipple)...I should stop feeling the bitterness and think positively, keep soldering on and maybe make some lemonade!