I0NAFI0NA

Driving For a Relationship, Lost in Transmission

2012-01-18T15:56:00.000-08:00

I came back from my long holiday overseas to a glorious loving reunion (not). Luckily for me Connor is with his grandparents for a week, so I am completely free to get over the jet lag, catch up on work and spend time with my gorgeous partner Hamish.

Let's not sell Hamish short, whilst I was away he had my car repaired and put new tires on. With suitable prompting he picked me up from the airport and we spent the weekend together with lots of bedroom moments. Nice.

So on Monday I set off to work and my own apartment. But I am beset with this growing feeling that

Something is missing

... and we both know what that is don't we? LOVE is missing.

In the early days of our courtship I had high hopes. I did and still do have feelings of incredible closeness and affection for this man. I am prepared to have my best shot at loving and supporting him through whatever life throws at him, and I accept him for who he is. Unfortunately evidence is suggesting that this is not reciprocated. So lets unpack that.

What evidence do you have, exactly?

The phone calls have dropped off:

From when we kissed goodbye on Monday morning to Thursday I haven't heard a bean. I am so disappointed in this particular instance because for once I am completely child free!!! for a week!!!! why would he not want to take advantage of that??

He never says he loves me

...and the one time I said it to him he responded with "so you should"(!).

He has become a bit of a bottomless pit with respect to my acts of service.

I can make dinner, give him a back rub, drive him to and from parties, fix his computer the more I offer the more he takes...

He doesn't seem to want to go out with me.

When I mention films/plays/dance he never has any interest. On the other hand when a partner is called for at weddings, birthday parties, bah miztvahs I am called in to be it, which is nice and I do enjoy that. He will eat out with me. It is all very visceral... sex and food. Together we attend to the needs of our bodies...

Why don't you call him
Well basically as things evolve I feel I am doing enough of the running as it is. Since my return he has not stayed at my apartment, if I want to see him I have to drive the 20 miles to his place. I already flatter him by telling him how great he is, rustling up meals for him, admiring his work, and he does none of this for me. He occaisionally gives the indication that I am a bit of a ditz (yeah ditz Ph.D). He doesn't seem to respect my different intelligence and life experience.

Perhaps he just can't talk about his feelings?
Must admit I can't respond to this one, but it seems unlikely. If someone mattered to you, you would find a way of telling them (other than shagging them senseless, wouldn't you?). The only thing I can say is that the acts of service/practical love have given me hope.
For noting, by the way, he is able to declare love and admiration to his dog.

Why don't you just ask him how he feels and what he wants out of a relationship

I did ask him and this is what he said "Sex and companionship". It's disarmingly simple.

It's all starting to sound rather a lot like "She drives for a relationship, he's lost in transmission" except I believe, in his case he does know what he's doing... occaisionally he tells me (I'm not nice, I'm bad) or when I said I couldn't tell what he was thinking he said (I'm a man of mystery - yeah flatter yourself why don't you - I think you are a poor communicator Hamish) Worst case scenario, it could be one of those cases of freeze your girlfriend out by treating her with indifference. He also called me "Soft and Sweet" too nice for you own good the other day. This is so entirely at odds with my self image (which I will save for another post)

On the upside I am almost certain his is monogamous. He may be fantasising or casually sniffing around for an alternative, but for the time being I'm it. He's told me so. He also let me log into and see everything on his computer which is not the act of a man who is hiding something. He is quite open with me.

I've dated some men with some interesting communication styles/foibles, but this one is new to me

So all up I still can't cobble together enough clear evidence to dump him, although my feelings of frustration are mounting to the point that I think the costs will outweigh the benefits in about 2 months. Any suggestions for somehow bringing it to a head - maybe I should propose... it's a leap year.... be careful what you wish for Fiona...

Hamish

2011-11-28T19:51:00.001-08:00

Another stream of conciousness, driving home one night went something like this....

Ok I've worked out what I want..."A compassionate observer of my life experience" not a lot to ask. That person would make attempts to identify the difficulties in my life (if any) genuinely feel for me and attempt to alleviate them.

Then I thought of Hamish

Why can't he do that, just be there for me, if I am in trouble you know flat tire, broken windscreen, lost purse, minor or major health problem. Is it too much to ask (I haven't asked him by the way, I don't want to scare him off, I'm having too much fun), But I would do this for him.

Any way my next thought was

"Yes" it is too much. To expect him to take me on with my learning impaired, cranky, ill disciplined child. If it were a day to day thing, there is a risk it might lower his quality of life.

Then the next thought

Well, I must get my own shit together and demonstrate to him unequivocally that I am not out to use him, take him for all he's worth, hurt him, spend his money ... especially not on my child ...since he does not have one of his own, nor are we likely to have one together.

Then the next thought.

And for what? all this posturing, all this being the perfect, independent girlfriend, keeping my nose to the grindstone, asking for nothing? He can still drop me at a moments notice under the current regime.

And the last thought

Well through it all, the least I might have got out of it was to get my act together.

More about Love

2011-11-17T18:08:00.001-08:00

I did a quick google search of blogs that discuss the meaning of love. The list is long, but most of them are not very insightful, at least not to me.

Last time I tried to place a theory on love it was putchniks wheel of emotion. All I could muster is that what I had previously thought of as love was in fact admiration. In simon's case probably pity.

Lately I read in a blog called "Chemo Chic" the proposition that love is not an emotion, or a feeling, it is a decision or I think the author called it an action. This is starting to rest rather well with me. Yes I think love is a decision because at some point you can stop yourself falling in love.

I am hopeless at making decisions, but I fall in love easily. At first this may be inconsistent but actually it is not. Because my decision making style is Heuristic (Rule of thumb, trial and error, or intuitive judgement). Thus every man I get involved with is "the one" until proved otherwise. Many are also dismissed because I don't like them at first sight.

More analytical types might judge each prospective partner against a measurable checklist and not make that decision until they were sure of compatibility. Which explains the phenomenon of young Thai girls falling in love with paunchy old gentlemen.

Go hard or go home

2011-11-17T17:38:00.001-08:00

I have been so lacking in motivation, due to a fair bit of pain from my hip and onerous parenting duties around Connor's reading difficulties. I have admitted to myself that what I want and need in life is to spend more time with my extended family. I have for weeks (or months even) been looking for something to get me out of this hole. Now it seems I have turned a corner. In the process of applying for a grant (which I may not get) I realised all the good stuff I am doing in my career, and how it does have an important role in my life, right up there with parenting, my family, and trying to hold together some sort of love life.

Here is what I wrote to myself

"For this price that you have to pay, ie not living near your family, which remains, indelibly, your core value. Some benefit must be extracted. Assuming you are good enough to be a successful in your work, what is the point of doormatising yourself, hiding your light under a bushell, taking hits from other people constantly? Why not give it one last shot. Go out there and grab the opportunities that undoubtedly are available, remembering you are very lucky to be in this position.

If you can't do this, go ahead and fail, reject the opportunity, go back and be near your family and poor. Doing the bare minimum whilst it seems to work for some people (those with lucrative consulting sideline businesses, or rich husbands) is not helping your self esteem, your finances, or your ability to get back to see your people. Don't continue to be stuck in no mans land. Commit to your career as it deserves and see what you can do. Give it three years. I believe it is worth it. Yes Connor will be harder to move then but recent events in your home country (riots unemployment, sit-ins, vandalism, disrespect etc) have not convinced you it is the best place for him anyway.

You have been dressing up your discontent as "keeping Connor near his dad" putting yourself second for other people's happiness. This is all part of your life situation and core values. However, the only way for you to be happy under this oppressive scenario (ie kept here under duress) is to be successful in your own right. Otherwise admit you do not care about the job, leave, and take Connor too and see what Simon does about it"

This grant application, and some other reading about motivating yourself at work has been like a window through which I am seeing some light.

These foolish dreams

2011-10-04T03:19:00.000-07:00

Shortly after I wrote the last post I read this by failed at forty. I was going to add a comment saying "Are you me?" , but then I thought twice about these dreams, realising that's exactly what they are. They are the remnants of how we conceptualised our future in our late teens and early twenties. F@F managed to flesh hers out quite a bit more too.. kudos. However, almost nobody follows through with them. Some of my mum's group friends would appear to be doing so, but I have also seen the seamy underbelly of happy marriage (for another post) and so I am essentially unconvinced by them.

Clinging to an out-of-date dream

2011-09-29T20:21:00.000-07:00

Something I realised about myself, and the way I am living right now. It's been dawning on me for weeks.

I am clinging to an out of date dream

Re-winding 25 years. I was looking for a (soul) mate to build a family with. Part of this dream included property. The reasons for this are probably fairly easy to fathom. I imagined that by my current age (45) I would own a home, have 2 or 3 functional teenage children around. I imagined these children would have grown up in the bosom of their extended family and by now, I would be settling in to mid-life knowing that there was no mortgage to pay, a man who loved me by my side, and every hope that these children would go on to be useful adult members of society. Being of the second wave feminist era, I also believed that the man I loved would support me in a career.

So at 25 I married, and went about (single handedly as it turned out) shaping this dream with someone who was not on the same page, and was not right for me. I stuck it for 15 years and clung to that dream through what was, essentially, a demolition derby. He didn't want kids, he didn't want to live near family, he didn't want to settle down, he didn't want to have a regular job, he didn't want to buy a house. So I worked harder on my career, waited patiently for him to (what I might have euphemistically called) "grow up", ultimately chased down my dream of having a baby via IVF. Each year a bit of my dream fell off. House prices rocketed, we couldn't afford to travel home for Christmas, I was infertile, I spent all my spare cash on putting him through college and taking him on holiday (!)

Then I woke up to myself, and thought if he won't follow my dreams with me, I'll have them alone. Marched off, and, with the help of a deposit from my parents, first attempted the dream with a sociopathic woman hater, and then finally, on my own.

But you know what? this dream doesn't fit anymore. Why am I struggling to pay the mortgage on an overpriced townhouse at my age? so that I can set Connor up for life and die. The last 20 years of my working life will be spent existing, in a job I don't particularly like so that I can put food on the table, and buy this place. I have no one to grow old with and only one child so rather than three children setting off to make their way in the world I will have one who has the option to "fail to launch" and live off me until I die then take my belongings and never have to work (much) himself. Just like his dad. Why would I? I need a new dream.

Preoccupation

2011-09-05T16:30:00.000-07:00

Today I listened for a few minutes to a program about child neglect - apparently more prevalent and just as harmful as abuse. And I had a bit of an aha! moment. I am hoping there is some validity in my extrapolation, because, for today anyway it is providing me with some strength

Professor Brigid Daniel described the problem, she said that parenting is very difficult complex and demanding and then she asserted that, along with poverty there is a toxic trio of; substance misuse, mental health issues and domestic abuse that can often tip people into being so preoccupied with their own needs that they miss out on those of their children.

Staying in the moment, and not becoming preoccupied is a constant challenge for me in this regard. Though I am not poor, mentally ill or suffering from substance misuse issues, but there have been times in connor's upbringing where I have been the object of domestic violence. Further, the "Preoccupation" trap is precisely what I now realise Simon is suffering from when he pronounces that he is "unable" to do what to the rest of the world is classified as no more than his fatherly duty. In fact his behaviour - basically keeping up appearances - e.g. turning up at the father's day breakfast, whilst it seems like nasty lip-service is actually the best he can do. He is in survival mode the whole time.

Thus without trying to give myself airs, or big myself up, or offer too many pats on the back to myself. This discussion underlined what I have long suspected... that

I am the one and only person responsible for saving Connor from neglect and giving him the tools to grow up strong and resiliant. Yes. Me only.

I have always thought it disrespectful to count Simon out of this important endeavour, and I have no wish to undermine his role as parent. But this radio conversation made it clear to me what all his weakness and protestation and inability represent. Not selfishness (necessarily) but preoccupation due to his mental illness to a level that is potentially dangerous for Connor. Should I be incapacitated, and he should be left in Simon's care. He would, undoubtedly, be neglected. This is why I have to keep going.

My mother, and my life coach friend have identified this already. But I have a tendency to discount it as bitchery toward Simon and an overstating of the case, but now I am becoming more and more convinced that No, all his confusing, and conflicting assertions and anger and refusal stem from this. That he is preoccupied with his own issues, and literally can't provide nurturing care for his own son.

To have a friend, you have to be one

2011-09-04T17:45:00.000-07:00

This was one of the many pieces of advice my mum gave me as a child. Empathy, Compassion clearly are a vital element in any friendship but particularly in a life partner
Thoughts around this have stemmed from two sources;

(a) Trying to get into the head of Hamish, my recalcitrent lover and
(b) Trying to define what a good husband might be

I'll tackle (b) first. I guess Husband's (Wives or life partners) vary to the extreme in what they provide. Most would score between 3-4 on the following checklist

(1) Emotional support
(2) Commitment: The ability to be inately trustworthy and faithful
(3) Sharing of financial load
(4) Sharing in domestic economy cook clean look after kids family admin (bills, volunteering, clubs and socs)
(5) Regular safe (preferably hot) sex
(6) Companionship

Less than 2 items and I would say it is not a relationship. I think with Hamish so far I have only got number (5 and maybe 6) and if it does not improve I will be ending it by the end of the year.

Incidentally with Simon I only had (2, 4 and 5) and with Neil only (3)

I have had a very bad week, and when on Wednesday morning I was holed up in my car in a parking lot at work tears streaming down my face and literally unable to face the day, I had not idea who I could possibly depend upon to listen to me, and it dawned on me that there is no way I could turn to Hamish. It has only been 4 months, but still..

What specifically do I want after a hard, confronting, harrowing stressful day at work. Not sex, possibly some relief in the domestic economy, but at the very basic level, as I have said before, for someone to be a safe compassionate witnesses to my life experience. And I have just looked up compassion which is defined as a "Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it"

I told Hamish about my day, and he told me he was *not* surprised people treated me that way, and then proceeeded to make fun of my accent (teasing I suppose).
Which brings me to (a) in the spirit of empathy, another thing my mother would tell me was to try to see things from the other person's point of view. I used to think I was quite good at it, putting myself outside my own body and fully into another's (I was probably deluding myself) anyway here we go.

Hamish. A lone wolf. Loves sex. wouldn't mind having children, generally happy in his own skin and with his own company. Professes to want a relationship. But in practice, it mustn't be complicated. In fact he should not have to work at it at all (in which case he reasons something must be wrong).

However I think this work also includes being compassionate, empathetic, in short, being a friend. He doesn't mind people being a friend to him. He likes a listening ear from a woman, He helps out his mates when they need him, but not women, because with women ... I suspect he feels ... there is always a hidden agenda. It would seem, from his reactions, he is possibly wary of women - once bitten twice shy. He would also say he doesn't fall in love easily. He needs to keep friendship and sex completely separate. He would not expect his lover to need him (locked out, flat tire etc). You're a fuck buddy I don't do favours for you. You can scratch my back, but I won't scratch yours - that's not playing nice now is it?

That Fiona is a Lucky LUCKY girl

2011-08-28T20:46:00.000-07:00

This is a text message Hamish received from a female friend. The female friend is married. And I have no problem with that relationship (no reason so far at all to feel jealous about other women). But I am wondering if his friend (let's call her Miranda) knows what she is saying.

From my end I have a cute and adorable bachelor, great in bed, with lots of bachelor ways, who's never said he loves me or uttered any words that might suggest commitment, indeed I'm sure he would not dispute that he does in fact love his dog more than me.

So what is Miranda reflecting?

1) He's a great friend to her, and seems like an A1 bloke - any woman would be lucky to have him
2) She's not getting any, and is glad that I am? and P.S she wouldn't mind a bit with him if she weren't married, stud bucket that he is
Or
(3) (girlish hopes raised here) ... he has actually told her how he feels about me, and therein lies the source of my luckiness.

Once again I guess, only time will tell

What I do know is that "relationships" can look very different from the outside. His friends do seem to assume we have all the couple accoutrements shared interests, time alone, respect for one another, future plans, love. But all I'm receiving from my end is a rather shaky fuck-buddy status.

Sigh (and again) Sigh.

Attack and Withdraw

2011-08-15T20:35:00.000-07:00

The morning after my marriage ended (having slept for the first time in separate beds) I headed off to the track to do some training. I spent most of the morning choking back tears. But probably what I didn't write in the I'm replaceable post was that I did feel a lot of relief. I had spent literally years bending myself to his will and I didn't know who I was anymore. I was not afraid to be alone, even with a small child, and I was sure I would still meet the right person and it was also OK if I did not. I had to some extent been railroaded into the decision to end the marriage. After years (on my part) of subtle and not subtle questioning, begging and even threatening to leave in an attempt to get him to change, and after years of receiving nothing but a stone wall. He performed the ultimate act of power. He simply pulled the plug - no explanation, no complaint. And this modus operandi has continued to this day. In all negotiations around Connor, he stonewalls me and witholds all information. I understand this is known as pursue and withdraw. And you can see in this you tube video the effect this type of emotional withdrawal has on a baby. But Simon says everytime I engage with him, I attack him and he can't stand it. From my point of view it is communication. For instance he has connor for one night per fortnight. Last time, connor did not sleep at his house, but went to a friends house for a sleepover with his kids. To avoid being accused of attack, I say nothing at all, but leave it to Simon's judgement. However I do think this is not quality time with his child, and I personally do not feel trust for the person he left him with. He's a [occasionally dope] smoker. But what might I say so as not to devalue Simon?

Just to let you know, Connor has told me, and I am aware, he did not spend the night in your care, but at your friend Damiens. I had sincerely hoped that the resumption of nights at your place would be an opportunity for you to bond. But I respect your judgement. Fiona.

Even that sounds attacking doesn't it?

Haunted by ghost baby

2011-07-03T18:48:00.000-07:00

As you know I am in a relationship (or am I just having sex with?) a lovely 47 year old man. By the time my period arrived this month, after all the good sex we have been having I had all but convinced myself I was pregnant. This in itself is one thing, but what perplexes or surprises me, is that *I still want this* How can I still want this? I am 45 years old, I would not be able to dance at its 21st birthday, I would not see my grandchildren grow up. Three thoughts come hard on the heels of this revelation.

(1) Am I doing it for him - he has never had kids and would like them. Am I afraid he will run off with someone younger to have kids?

(2) How did my life go so fast? I always wanted a family, and I knew that ..how did I let it pass me by?

(3) I begin to have very strong intimations of babies, singing my baby to sleep, holding it, smelling it. How I loved being a new mother. I am haunted by the babies I never had, or lost. Once again it revisits me and is unbearable..

Which in turn leads to two more thoughts:

(a) How rich the life must be of other women who have experienced this not, once, or twice, but three times, and have a family around their table including a faithful loving husband and how thin my life is by comparison

(b) How lucky I am to have experienced it once - for all the women friends, and those I don't know who by bad luck or accident missed out on being mothers when they wanted to be. Love.

And all through this haunting lullaby is playing. I can't find it on the web, but I remember singing it at school I think it was an african lullaby.

A new character

2011-06-06T00:05:00.000-07:00

I have a new character to introduce to you. It's not my fantasy partner Dave, Hamish is younger, still older than me by a couple of years. Hamish doesn't have a teenage daughter, he has no children. He's very hot, he runs he own business as a landscape architect (similar to Dave), and I am in love with him. Whether he is in love with me is another matter. Sometimes I get the uneasy sense that he is compromising to be with me. That somehow he could score himself someone even younger and even better looking, but maybe my insecurities are playing out. Following my last post, I guess I have learned very little, apart from how to exit from these things. I throw myself in boots and all. I've known him for two months. What I like about him is his simpleness. He treats me with respect. He does all the right things, does not leave me alone for too long. The sex is straightforward. He is easily turned on by me and does not need me to do degrading porny acts to get himself warmed up. As with my early days with Neil, I admire him, I fancy him, and I love to listen to the stories of his life and friends. I long to be with him. I guess I am still in the lust phase leading into the attachment phase. I am determined not to sour it by asking too many questions. But as time goes by, my confidence about emerging unscathed lessens. Even now I know it will hurt when he says "It ain't me babe" or "I can't bring up another man's child", or "I'm not ready" or whatever the cliche of choice turns out to be. You think this sounds defeatest. What if, I turn out to be the one who ends it? Self sabotage maybe as in the case of "The one who got away"? or just get bored. Who could imagine?

More about me

2011-05-15T19:33:00.000-07:00

I fall in love easily

I had always seen this as a virtue. I am warm, open and see the best in everyone. So I was more than a little abashed when my life coach friend said "You need to take a look at that". She asserted that I clearly am lacking something in my own life that I need to look to others to "complete me". She also said that until I was completely happy with myself I could not love another properly.

So.. let's explore.. why do I fall in love easily? and what implications does this have for me, and those who attempt to love me back.

My first thought was that maybe it is just lust. Psychologists have clearly examined the three stages of love Lust, Attraction, Attachment. maybe I just fall in lust get a rush of chemicals and wake up with a (h/m)an(g)over.

My second thought was that it is a personality thing. If anything walks into my home/life be it cat, dog, guineapig, unusual lamp, clapped out wreck of a car, difficult child/in-law, homeless student, coffee machine. Sooner or later I pattern on to it, and begin to love it for all its foibles. I came from a loving and accepting home and by-and-large I am driven my the need to have people and things I love around me whether or not they love me back. Once again, I suspect, this is a side effect of my supposed lack of ego. It does leave me open to being landed with things I don't really want, or don't realise I don't want until I reach a boundary.

I reject my friend's theory though, because I do believe I know and love myself. I can be alone. I actually enjoy my own company. Having a hyperactive 8 year old in my life does not make these moments of quiet reflection easy, but I can definitely amuse myself I have a lot of talents. I play the piano, paint, enjoy the outdoors etc.

I have not enjoyed, as you will have gathered from this blog, being separated from my family of origin. And yes, I seek to recreate the warm, close, quirky, rabble of family life.

Ten years ago, I would've said I don't fall out of love easily. I am a swan-like bond-for-life type of a gal. But circumstances have dictated that I learn to deal with this. This is the one indication that I am not a love addict.

Yes I have indulged in co-dependent relationships with Narcissists.

Yes, I fall in love easily. But when it doesn't work out, I don't become a bunny-boiler. On the contrary, my paired to the bone, doormatism allows me to walk away and simply shave another little slice off my meagre self-esteem.

I guess the work I need to do, is to be able to say to myself, that person was not worthy of me. I am bigger than that, I have so much going for me. I am able to walk away when someone treats me badly. I am able to deal with not being called back, hold my head up retain my self esteem, and get on with my life. Whilst at the same time not appearing brittle. In "Act Like a Lady, Think like a Man" Steve Hardy suggests that you should tell your prospective partner that you want him to be the head of your family. Certainly massaging his ego, and implicitly telling him you also want him to be the head of you too. This would definitely need to be coupled with firm boundaries.

Perhaps the worst of it, is that the very fact that I have to have this conversation with myself, means that now I enter relationships in fear, with an exit plan in place. I am unable to throw myself giddily into love with all my heart and soul.

It's not you it's ME

2011-05-08T19:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you may think that my blog posts display some sort of victim mentality, or at the very least - how unlucky I've been in love? but what has been dawning on me for some time, and I guess what all good psychologists would have uncovered is:

There is something about me that invites toxic behaviour from those in relationships with me

..and that's not just men, but I'll come back to that.

Here, in the spirit of self knowledge, and from what others have mentioned, is what I can deduce about my personality

(1) I have low self esteem
People have commentated that when I present, I make apologies for myself, and bascially self sabotage my work - I had perhaps internally seen this as self-deprecating humour, but it is something that as a woman is to be approached with great caution. If you say you are useless, people will believe you. In relationships this leaves the door wide open for abusers and manipulators. They can tap into this poor sense of self-worth, and feed it. Telling you, for instance, that you are so bad that nobody else would want you.

(2) I have no ego
Internally I would cast this as a virtue, I am easy going, I am not opinionated. I don't care where you take me to lunch, whether I wear expensive shoes, I don't take strong political stand points. This allows me to care little about anything. I am basically paired down to the bone. You can't destroy me because nothing matters to me, at all. Once again this allows people in relationships with me to follow their own agenda they decide where we go on holiday, what I wear, how they spend my money, and I pretty much roll over and let them. I even keep my values to myself. Thus it becomes surprising to them when they reach a boundary ie they have sex with an ex girlfriend and I make a fuss - after all I have never made a fuss about anything before.

I was going to include two more personality points here (3) I am not assertive and (4) I am indecisive, but as I try to distinguish these they do seem to be covered by (1) and (2)

(5) I am a surprisingly strong woman in very specific ways
During my marriage Simon would occaisionally remark that so-and-so was a strong woman I believe Beatriz is probably a strong woman by his definition. She asserts herself, holds him to account and demands his time and resources. He clearly thought I was not a strong woman, and this would offend me to the core..

The reason I was offended was because, you see, I honestly believe I am strong. I was always physically strong and able to endure hard physical labour -I had immense stamina a match for Simon and better than Neil. I remember Neil once ordered a truck load of fertiliser for our lawn. The process involved aeriating the lawn, getting the fertiliser off the immense pile wheeling it across the yard and spreading it. So motivated was I that I kept going until sunset, long after he had gone in for a beer. Likewise after a 50 mile bike ride, he went to bed, feeling ill whereas I was energised.

I am strong in the sense of self-control. I can keep chocolate in the fridge all week and not eat it.

I am strong in the sense that I know I can trust myself to follow through. If I make promises to people. I know I will carry them out. Absolutely without fail.

And whilst I suspect I will never excel at anything, I absolutely know I will never be broken.

I am strong in that I know myself. I generally confront my issues head on. I cry about them, laugh about them, write about them and then move on.

Being strong, in this non-assertive,self reliant way invites people to treat you as a doormat. You're strong like palmyra fibres and will not wear out. Hence you will drive them about, cook their meals, clean up after them, organise their schedules and generally be a mother to them and not expect anything in return.

I think my mother is little different, the difference being the man she married is a benevolant dictator, so he always has her best interests at heart. When you go out into the world being soft, strong and very very long. People will wipe their asses on you.

More dating reflections

2011-05-01T17:08:00.000-07:00

Picture the scene, there we are five women in our forties preparing to go out on the town. They are discussing their makeup (what a fortune they spend). Honestly to me they are in danger of looking like trannies the amount of makeup they slap on.

But apparently they are still trading on their looks. Many of them have been brought close to bankrupcy by divorce so, whilst pretending to "love the single life" they go out, throw back their peroxide manes and attempt to attract someone who will truly love and respect them.

They are not settling for second best. No siree many of them have been in emotionally abusive relationships, they have been betrayed.

How life deals such a double whammy at this age. Clearly having been holed up in these (often lonely) marriages for so long has not prepared we women for life. And now, alone in out 40s we resort to the behaviour we used before our marriages to meet someone new. We dress up, we flirt and we put ourselves out there. We also put-out I believe in the hope of being loved. But the landscape has changed. Out there are a mix of;

(1) playboys (like Neil) who have spent their entire adult life cruising for sex and have got very good at manipulating the numerous women in their life to believe they are happy to be fuck-buddies.

(2) Fresh divorcee's who aspire to (1) because they have spent 20 years in a loveless marriage also, and aren't about to be caught again.

And here is what occurs to me; I am not bankrupt, broken and abused, and I do not need to snare a meal ticket and thus, I want no part of this.

My relationship with men is analogous to my relationship with glasses of wine. Sometimes I crave a nice one with a meal, but if I let myself be drawn in, and overindulge, I wake up feeling wretched, and I am starting to believe it is better for my mental and physical health to abstain.

My recent life

2011-04-15T07:05:00.000-07:00

Before I even start this post, I know it is going to be unstructured. I have about three points to make, and I feel compelled to get them down. Nobody is commenting, I sincerely hope this doesn't mean nobody is out there and that I am truly alone in this world. Having been "confined to barracks" by my ex's actions I feel truly holed up like a sort of Anne Frank writing from the war front of sole parenting.

I know my last few posts have repeated themselves, always feeling original in my writing. These key themes keep coming out of:

(1) Trying to understand Simon's recent reactions
(2) Coming to terms with my marriage breakdown(belatedly)
(3) Trying to assess my own mental health with respect to this and
(4) Trying to create a platform on this from whence to start dating again.

Actually I don't think I'm depressed. I am overwrought, lonely and unproductive, but not depressed. I really do love some aspects of my life. Singledom suits me, not in a party large, shag everything in trousers type of a way but in a Thank God I don't have to consider another person type of a way...

I really do feel very trapped though, and blogging is one of my very few outlets. I really wish Simon would take Connor a few nights a fortnight so I could get out and socialise. I haven't had sex in over a year. Is that OK? And this is the first insight I had today. If I had to choose between using my lunch- hour for sex with a middle aged sex addict that was never going to end in a relationship (because believe me my lunch hour is the only opportunity I get) or using that time to work on research and further my career. I swear to god the time would be better spent on the latter. Emotionally, financially, mentally, physically...sad but true.

A part of me thinks I should capitalise on my sex appeal whilst I still have oestrogen and that clearly human beings need companionship and I should be laying the foundations of this for my older years, but seriously the time and effort one can put in for so little return makes me think academic work (which is laborious and yields very slowly) is a better use of time.

Another aspect of my life that I really love is my son. He still loves to be around me, and when I can spend time with him in my busy schedule it always pays dividends. I want to share something I realised today that makes me sad. I remember the sheer joy and happiness and togetherness Simon and I had when he came into the world. I suppose some people get to savour this happy time, and prolong it by having one or two more. But for me the euphoria was short lived. No sooner had my little baby sat up, that I was back at work and his dad, Simon was stealing the limelight with his suicide attempt. From there on in all hell broke loose and I have been a single parent. This was never my plan. But essentially I have known no different. I just stopped for a moment today to imagine the continuity and security that many women feel as they start their families, and grieved for the loss of this happy phase. Some of my friends seem to be blissfully still in it. They had two more kids, their hubbys worked and they keep the homefires burning, imaculately. My life could not be further from this. Yet how close I came.

In my attempts to understand Simon one that has jumped into my head lately but seems ludicrous is that, rather than just thinking with his little head and staking out time with his latino lover. He really, truly and honestly believes that his scaling back of time with connor is "doing the right thing" and that the boy needs to be with his mother, in one home and needs stability, and that this shit that he is putting on me is what he truly and honestly believes is a sacrifice and in Connors best interests. Or at the very least this is what he is convincing himself of.

And my forth and final unrelated point. In many of my recent posts you would sense a yearning for freedom. I can't get out and leave Connor unsupervised. He needs a lot of extra attention. I can't address the demands of my work life adequately, I feel trapped, and underperforming on so many levels. I am homesick and lonely and it seems very little can be done about this and yet, here is the comforting thought that emerges: "This too shall pass" At some stage in the next five or so years Connor will become more independent. For better of for worse, he will go out into the world. My efforts will show, or not. And I will be freer than I have been for a while. To cook, read, see picasso exhibitions. I bet I will miss him then.

So thats it, three reflections on love, loss and future freedom. Nothing more to say.

Human rights violation: A response

2011-04-09T17:41:00.000-07:00

Some counter responses:

If you are not performing at work, that is nobody's fault but your own.

It is common for men to run off and leave their ex-wives or girlfriends "holding the baby" and often they don't pay. The problem is Simon has just enough of a foot in the door to stop you exercising your other option, which is to go where your family are. It is against the law to take him away from his father to another country

It is uncommon for women left in such positions to thrive professionally.

Remember to frame your concerns around Connor, not you or Simon's rights.

{As an aside though whatever is motivating Simon;
Be it just the totally hot sex with Beatriz,
Be it that Beatriz is pregnant and demanging his full attention (which he never gave you)
Be it that Beatriz literally forbids him any contact with you, and only allows a small amount of time with his own child
Be it that he is totally under her power, under the thumb, weak etc
Be it that he is sick and grappling with severe depression}

None of this matters. You have to sort out YOUR stuff.

You chose to put Connor in a school near your home. Therefore it makes sense that he should live with you full time

Simon also can't cope with his full time professional job and looking after Connor overnight. He thinks that you can. You demonstrate that you can. He on the other hand waivers on the edge of a nervous breakdown all the time.

An action plan:

(1) Speak to a lawyer about the possibility of getting full custody and having the option to move "home"

(2) Streamline your life. Eat frozen meals

(3) Get a cleaner

(4) Rent out two rooms, one for income and one for an aupair to help with cleaning thus the lodger pays the aupair (and you share with connor)

(5) Restrict your dating to lunchtime dates until things improve

(6) Get what exercise you can

(7) Drink plenty of water

(8) Cut down on Alcohol

(9) Make Simon fully aware of Connors learning difficulties

(10) Garner his wages to assist in paying for tutoring

(11) Go out in the evening at least twice a month even if it means paying a babysitter

(12) Make sure you visit your family once a year (do this via work trips make getting funding for these a priority, it will reap rewards)

Has it become a minor human rights violation?

2011-04-09T16:06:00.000-07:00

Some divorces are long and drawn out and messy. Mine wasn't one of them. We realised we had come to the end of our relationship, split our assets, debated at some length about how to share the care of our beautiful son, always keeping him centre stage. Then we met new people, and although there were some territorial issues, and petty jealousies, we managed to stick to our parenting plan. Then we didn't. We both ended our rebound relationships and I took Connor overseas for an extended period (with Simon's permission). When I came back Simon was in a new relationship, and things have changed. My motivation to find a new man is waning. Possibly it's case of once bitten twice shy. The motivation for this post, though, is when I Do meet new guys I now find myself in the position of having to explain why I have a child 100% of the time, get no child support and am not allowed to move away.

Simon, through sheer utter self absorption and a dose of manipulation, appears to have robbed me of something in the spectrum free-will/human rights/personal autonomy.

How is it possible for one party to a divorce to wield such power over another? I am not being abused, or raped, I have a roof over my head, I have free speech, I can vote. But specifically I do not have the freedom to pursue my career, and I am not able to move freely between countries. Neither can I date without bankrupting myself - does this come under the category of freedom to marry who I wish? I am in a state of enforced celibacy. How did this happen?
When I got back from my sabbatical, instead of seeing Connor for 4 nights a fortnight. Simon declared that he would take him out for 7 hours a fortnight and it's always in daylight. This change alone has affected my life so profoundly that I feel completely trapped by it. As far as I can see there is no legal recourse to make a person see their children more. More often fathers are denied access to their children and this is a right too.
So what of this weirdness? how to interpret it? where to go with this story?
Those four nights a fortnight used to be used for catching up on work, resting, cleaning up, sleeping, reading and having a social life. Now, due to his actions, I am chronically behind on my work, which means I'll never get promoted, and neither will I have the credentials to apply to work elsewhere. It is career subsistance, basic, demoralising, down trodden, crushing and depressing.

I can only go out if I pay $100 dollars per night to a babysitter, and there will never be any "sleepovers" I am 10 and a half thousand miles from my family. So no popping over to granny's for the night or having my grown up sister babysit. The only option I have is to work my way out of it. In order to get more money to pay the babysitter I need to be promoted. In order to apply for a job of similar standard back in my home country I need to perform at work. Work is the key. Arbeit macht frei.

But I have one conflicting imperative, and one severe impediment.
The conflicting imperative: Connor has severe dyslexia. He inherited this from his dad. I'm trying so hard not to point the finger on this one, because Connor was also a low birthweight baby which could have been as a result of IVF and my poor breeding capacity. Raising this child to manhood with the best possible chance in life is my chief mandate. Thus if it means I have to leave work early, pick him up and try to spend time with him on reading, I will. So I have to make up work hours in the night, just to keep up with the eight ball, and perform at the expected level. I also have to find the money to pay specialist tutors.
The impediment: I am suffering from Arthritis. It is getting worse each day. I have to take pain killers just to get around normally. This pain makes working long and extra hours too hard. I will try to put Simon's point of view in a separate post. But I need reflections, suggestions and ways to move forward. There has to be a way to garner more personal freedom for myself, I know in the grand scheme of things this is not a major violation, but I have spent hours brainstorming with myself.
Relevant human rights Article 13 (1) Everyone has the right to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each State. (2) Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country. Article 23 (1) Everyone has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favorable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment.

They don't call me and I don't care

2011-03-28T17:42:00.000-07:00

How things have changed since my 20s. Admittedly, I suspect, there were more eligible males around, untested, but with potential. There were all these boys taking a science degree with me, not unattractive, intelligent. I fell in love so easily. To me men were a beautiful miasma to be tapped into. They were all so cute, sexy and desirable. Now I find them slightly frightening. They just want to talk me into bed with no strings (in truth this was probably also true in my 20s – but they were coming into the commitment phase, if only I’d waited, and I had more cards to play). Now they are more sinister. They have broken marriages, strange attitudes to sex and sexual practices, venereal diseases, nasty habits and poor attitudes to women. They are less attractive, to even get into bed with them would involve a severe choking on my bile and if after that they are going to screw me and leave me, why would I not just pick the youngest best looking one I could? At least the process would be enjoyable. I do get asked out a lot, but we rarely get passed the first date, and when they don’t call more often than not it is something akin to a relief. On the first date they nearly always ply me with alcohol and talk about sex. There’s no secret as to where its all going. Its just a matter of it I’m willing and if anything looks too hard to them, they don’t call. And I don’t care.

Letters (1)

2011-03-16T21:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Simon
I am writing to forgive you (no well actually i can't forgive you, I am in fact writing to blame you for stealing my life, in the hope that by the end of the letter I will be able to forgive you)

Simon, I forgive you for altering the course of my life so utterly that I lost 20 years of my life with my precious family. I forgive you for holding so tightly onto the purse strings that we completely failed to get on the property ladder. I forgive you that even as you held those strings it was me that was earning the money. I forgive you for letting me support you as you went through graduate school and for showing no gratitude. I forgive you for emotionally abusing me for 15 years, and I forgive you for denying me the opportunity to have a large family of our own.
Simon I forgive you for casting your estrangement from your own family as a virtue "We don't live in each other's pockets" I forgive you for mocking my homesickness. I forgive you for not understanding just what my family meant to me. I forgive you for taking me to the other side of the world, and tying me down there.

Simon, I forgive you for that time you said we didn't have enough money for me to buy new shoes for a job interview, and for spending the money on yourself when I got the job regardless. I forgive you for baulking at all the perfectly good houses we could have afforded that now would be worth twice their value.

I forgive you for two years into our marriage telling me that if I got pregnant you would expect me to have an abortion. I forgive you for being so unready to commit to parenthood that by the time you were ready I was already almost too old. I forgive you for becoming resistant when I was trying to get pregnant. I forgive you for saying that "the best babies are born naturally" when I was (we were?) doing IVF. I forgive you for expecting me to go hiking in 30C when I was seven months pregnant. I forgive you for seeing my shaky pregnancy as a weakness. I forgive you for the time you went of climbing when I was losing a baby and let me take myself bleeding in taxi to the hospital. I forgive you for seeing my miscarriages as something you needed to control by curtailing your own fertility and ultimately curtailing the relationship. I forgive you for freezing me out and ignoring me when I was in pain over losing babies. I forgive you for then going and attempting to have children with other girls.

I forgive you for blaming connor's learning difficulties on the means and circumstances of my pregnancy when their source could just as well be your dyslexia. I forgive you for seeking to extract yourself from his life when he becomes behaviourally difficult.

I forgive myself for my naivety in thinking that love would find a way. I forgive myself for believing in marriage so utterly and blindly. I forgive myself for thinking I had to stick with it no matter what. I forgive myself for not standing up to you in so many ways. I forgive myself for letting you run my life. I forgive myself for squandering my hard earned money on you, as though you were my child. I forgive myself for not letting you be a man. I forgive myself for going ahead and having a baby because by that stage it meant more to me than you did. I acknowledge that in my drive to recreate my family of origin I pushed you away and created a situation in which I am for ever separated from them. I acknowledge the part I have taken in bringing my life to this stage.

Sincerely

Fiona

Dating reflections

2011-02-24T17:37:00.000-08:00

The romantics out there will refute this, but I believe I am also in a dating corner. I am not too stressed about it. Other priorities in my life are more pressing but... Here's the thing:

I'm 45
I have a doctorate
And a good job
And my own (mortgaged) home
And a 7 year old child.

Go on! Prescribe me a man!!

Well I guess it would (commonly) be a 47+ year old, with a similar level of education...maybe divorced, with a couple of kids....

Except I am finding women married to 47 year old Doctors aren't divorcing them in a hurry*. So OK I can down date a little on the education front. Geez I am the first to have a healthy disrespect for academia. There is a slight problem with some that they don't want their partner to be more qualified than them, but presumably there'd be a bunch of 47-57 year olds who could put this aside.

The next hurdle I find is that 47 year old men who don't have this level of education generally had their kids younger, so their kids are all grown up and off their hands (18-25 usually) they express surprise at how young my kid is, and either overtly or not, slight repugnance - they've done that school age kid-wrangling thing. What they are looking for now is a nice mature playmate.

OK so we'll go younger. A nice hot young tradie, whose kids are a similar age to mine. Excellent. Well obviously here competing with the much younger less educated woman. So unless he is completely down on his luck, or a gold digger, he will be looking to find an even younger, hotter tradette. Also he comes with another set of blue collar expectations namely that a woman's place is to keep home.

* A note on divorcing a doctor: Well yes some of them are, but that is because they are dyed in the wool gold plated ass-clowns. The best way to survive in academia is to be right up yourself, and so they are pretty much unbearable. We are much safer not going there sister.

I painted myself into a corner

2011-02-14T04:34:00.000-08:00

Well, twice this weekend I have found myself lying on my bed motionless, or sitting catatonic in my car, tears streaming down my face, feeling completely, and utterly overwhelmed.

Over the years various married friends of mine who I thought of as strong and independent women, have confided in me that work, and family responsibilites became too much for them, and they had to scale back and (usually) give up their job or go part time.

My external reaction was always one of sympathy, but my thoughts generally were along the lines of "you princess!!" "lucky you have a man to support you!! goodness me, you were always on top of your game what have you become! stay at home mum?? I can't believe it! where has the fire in your belly gone? where's your ambition??"

But as I lie here, house a mess, nagging insistent voice of my absolutely out-of-control child below, so behind at work it's not funny, all sorts of domestic, admin and repair jobs awaiting my attention I suddenly recognise where they were coming from. There is just NO WAY I can go on like this. Pity I took on a $300K mortgage just before I realised.

I struggled to identify when I went from being in control/having it all.. to this mess. And quite readily I could pin point it.

The turning point was August 2010, when I became seriously incapacitated with hip pain. Up until that point I was strong and could rely on myself. I addition until the start of this school year, I believed my son's reading problems were something he would grow out of, and not insurmoutable, and finally my ex-husband has relinquished his parenting responsibilities for no discernable reason. And as in my previous post, I feel let down by him.

So on top of a full time job (nearly put fool-time), being single, dealing with constant pain, the loss of my ability to exercise and be part of an active set of people, my son's need for lots of extra help with reading and writing.. cinderella (Simon) has scaled back his involvement in Connor's life so I never get a break.

I collapse into bed each night around the same time as Connor, exhausted, with many household chores left undone, and I wake up just as tired. I have no time to myself, and the one thing that might save me from all this.. ENERGY is sapped from me with constant pain.

I spent three full days last weekend, assembling beds, buying plants for the garden, cleaning putting away washing tidying - these three days were sick days after an injection into my hip joint. I reckon I could do quite a good job of housekeeping, if I didn't have this pesky professional job to go to everyday.

I think Simon's peculiar attitude and actions have contributed in a *final straw* kind of way. I would like to say his son is affected by his absence from his life, but really the impact is on me. Connor is so jealous of Beatriz he has withdrawn and just wants to be with me.

Solution

So what is the solution?

Stick with the job

I believe sticking with the job will get me the things I need in the long term -education for Connor, money for my retirement, travel etc, but this roadblock/hiccup may very well lose me my job through underperformance.

Would it be better to take time off my job, admit defeat? than to plough on like this and be found out anyway?

I don't feel that I am contributing to society/ making a difference through this job ANYMORE. I did once, but now I am unable to perform at a (to me) useful level. I am not overly invested in it, and would quite like something less cerebral. To this extent, if I could take less money and was free to move around the world, I would happily do something less high status.
HOWEVER there are two important points in relation to this. If it is less high status, I still need to earn money and also it need to be something that is not MORE physically demanding because I am now physically Weak. I doubt I could be a teacher for example.

Address the pain

I have made a lot of effort to address the pain, there has been physio, injections, painkillers... all to no avail...

Give up work
I could be invalided out of work and live off the state. Then the income differential would force Simon to pay me something. But my self esteem would take a battering. If I can hang in for a few more years i can maybe retire early.

Buy in help

Ideally I would not only keep the job, but get promoted so there was enough money to pay for extra tuition and other help. I would like to be able to afford babysitters so I can get out and meet people or do exercise.

Move closer to family

I have thought this one through a fair bit. I am driven by how I might feel if they die and I am not (and have not been) there. I have seen fit to spend 20 years apart from them, and (rather weakly) I have never taken responsibility for this, just always blamed someone else or circumstance.

One of my counsellors said "Well, you know, this happens when people from different cultures and different parts of the world fall in love, often someone has to compromise and something has to give" She didn't say how you were supposed to cope when you fall out of love, and have a child. I tried to justify it by saying well, this is Connor's country, and I love him so I should stay on his account, but again that is weakness. Because I am the adult, I have free will and I have the right to live where I am supported best.

The problem with this of course is that I would actually have to live in the hometown of my parents/sister to get any support at all, and they are getting older and are less likely to be able to help. Maybe to the end of connor's childhood at 18 when they will be 80 and 83 respectively.

Get a man(!)

Losing Neil and no longer having a man in my life is not at the root of this. At least not entirely. It's a contributing factor. If there is someone who is reasonably cooperative, and collaborative, there for you, at least in spirit, for at least some of the time, you feel less alone. By and large from what I have seen lately, they are more trouble than they are worth.

I am even slightly turned off by manhood just at this moment. There usefulness to women is as impregnators and providers, if indeed they can do that. I think by and large these days in 1st world countries where we don't have tigers or marauding gangs of theives the protecting role is defunct.

But all that aside, actually finding a man is very difficult because I have to pay a babysitter for every hour that I am looking. That is just a raw fact.

Denoument

2011-02-02T17:19:00.000-08:00

Well Simon hasn't had much coverage on this blog. Apart from as a pathetic figure, the knight in shining armour who expects you to carry him away on your steed.

There have been reflections on why I married him, but today's thoughts have brought me to a place I could/should have explored months/years ago, if I didn't have this bleeding heart liberal approach to him whereby I think, poor simon, he's sick he can't help it, he's weak I'm strong, I need to facilitate his connection with his son, I need to pay for everything he can't to make sure our son has a good life.

Since meeting his hispanic girlfriend Beatriz things have changed. He always cancels/changes his weekends with Connor.

Well finally my mental health is being affected. The hideousness of middle aged dating, the demands of work, the time needed to support a child with reading difficulties (did I mention) my injuries meaning I can't do sport. All add up to making me feel very alone. In fact hideous as it is, those nights out with singles are better that staying in all the time kid wrangling, and when he just SMS me to say "no sorry, no can do any of the nights I am slated to" (1) the bottom falls out of my world, I was holding out for my weekend off, I need respite (2) I get angry.

Having just bought the cute girl townhouse of my (short term) dreams, my need to be near my family and support group gets stronger. I went out for a singles dinner with a group called " a table for six" on Saturday night. I did not really click or relate to either of the men there, but the women were interesting. Every case of divorced and separated families I can think of the partners either offer practical, or financial support, or the custodial parent has full custody and the freedom to move around. Below I describe the two women I met and the dinner and one other

(1) The first girl had given up work to bring up a family, after the divorce, her ex husband still supports her to stay in the family home and be a full time mum (as does the government) although she is not near her family.

(2) The other girl, was in a situation not unlike mine, she was a 39 year old single mother of one daughter who had an excellent transglobal career. Her daughter though, was adopted, so no pesky father in the background, and she had migrated home to be near her extended family. But she did have the full time hands on job of caring for the child and no respite.

(3) I met a colleague at a conference last month, who had split up with the mother of his only child, she had gone back to her home country, and he continued to support her financially.

How is it? I ask myself that I get the worse of all possible worlds, no financial support from my ex (as in cases 1 and 3), not close to my family for support (as in cases 2 and 3) no financial or practical help from my ex (as in cases 1 and 3), and no freedom to migrate as in (2).

As far as practical help goes, maybe it is just easier for the majority of men just to do the financial thing and be free to get about, socialise, love, shag, drink and work like they're single again. Perhaps, I belatedly realise, shared care is not something that comes naturally to most men, it is a social construct. On meeting Beatriz, Simon wants to be free, and "luckily" for him he hasn't historically earned much, he has a rumbling mental illness that could flare up at any time, and I have a good job, which lets him off his financial obligations to his son. Why has he been pussyfooting around changing diapers and doing the school run all these years. Bugger it!! Be free!!!

Since our parenting plan (where he had 5 nights per fortnight and would've liked more) was filed in court. I propose to give him the option, in mediation, either to take Connor for 5 nights, or he will give me full custody giving me the option to move, and more support from the government if I stay.

Along the way, my mother and Neil had suggested this "full custody" plan to me, but I had always rejected it, believing it to be unfair to Connor and his dad. Now it seems I have to do it for my own sanity.

of Love and Houses

2011-01-18T05:48:00.000-08:00

Just after I moved into my dream home with Neil, his infidelity and sex addiction came to the fore. I had, maybe 10 days of innocent enjoyment.

Straight after I went back to work full time after Connor was born, Simon attempted suicide, and was committed to a mental health clinic. I had maybe 10 days when everything was going swimmingly, a baby, a working husband, a career a family income we could live on.

And now, I have grasped feminist nirvana. I have bought a house, on my own where I can live safely with my son... and again 10 days in Ex23 instant messages me. He loves me more than breathing. I have to go overseas, live near him and give "Us" a chance. I confess, I am lonely in my fortress.

He refers to my need to side with the sisterhood, and my refusal to cheat on his wife with him as "seeking the high ground" I really can't get my head around that. Marriage clearly is not sacred to him or he would not play with it thus. What? a normal (non prosthelytizing) person would say ah well, it feels good, its his choice to cheat on his wife, nothing to do with me, or what I do... crap.

He thinks I can give up a career, take my son away from his dad and travel across the world for the life of a concubine and a chance at true love.

Life turns on a dime. I've learned my lesson. This time I am going to take (attempt to choose) the security, not the man.

The Id

2010-12-30T20:28:00.000-08:00

I think I just had an insight into Neil's world. To him after years of non-commitment and frankly using women for gratification he was quite astounded to find himself "in love". It had happened so rarely. (I, on the other hand, was extremely used to coupledom - but we'll come back to me).

So his expections were romantic. He had given himself over to a woman like never before. In this, he was giving me something. Something rare, exquisite, for him which does seem arrogant I'll grant you... But you have to remember he is the id. By and large to that point, he had existed for his own pleasure. I am trying not to make this a judgement. It's just one personality on the spectrum of personalities. In some ways life had been cruel to him. His mother had rejected him on many levels, and he had become tough, and self-serving to survive. He would Never let his defenses down and he would literally screw people before they had the chance to screw him. So when he experienced love (which grudgingly I am starting to believe he did) It was an unfamiliar, wobbly, unsafe place to be suddenly feeling vulnerable and afraid of losing someone. He had let his indominable defenses down and let me in, and I did not appreciate it. He got jealous, he demanded a greater portion of my time (he needed me to make him feel secure) and, when he did not get it, he finally he assumed I did not love him, and resorted to the comfort food of random acts of coupling, thinking perhaps that it wouldn't hurt me, after all it was only sex.

For my part, I was swept off my feet by him. He seemed affable, easy-going, funny. He was intelligent, tall, and he seemed besotted with me. I wanted to have baby and buy a house with me...all the mundane-white-picket-fence dreams I felt I had been denied in my 16 year marriage. I felt a new dawn, I had been under the thumb for so long, and Neil set me free. Things moved very quickly, he put me on a pedestal, he wanted to spend hours just smooching. I naively assumed monogamy and collaboration in the household economy (ie doing the washing up etc) came as standard. And those things, with a small toddler in tow were important to me. I wanted to feel secure, and since we were both working full time I wanted help with the household duties so I wasn't too dog tired cleaning up after him to put out. In short, my expectations were rather more practical. In sixteen years of marriage if nothing else I had mastered the art of collaboration. I also have (had) this disconcerting habit of falling in love with who I have sex with rather than the other way round.

So to him, I was hidebound with domestic concerns, and to even voice this was not to love him, to get my priorities wrong. And to me, he rapidly became stifling. He wanted to know where I was and what I was doing whenever we were apart, he demanded my time when I needed to be with my child, and (probably coincidentally) he passed all domestic duties over to me so I was too tired to stay up late with him (not to mention the rounds of IVF). He was really hopeless at being a couple in the practical sense, but definitely he was feeling vulnerable and needed me to dote on him, adore him, make time for him, canoodle, spoon, keep the homefires burning, whatever, but not necessarily have sex. He could get that wherever and whenever. For me, with sex being mixed up with love 'n' all. Sex was actually quite important.

I give you.... the small u

2010-12-14T02:20:00.000-08:00

I am completely aware of the power of positive thinking, manifesting, praying, affirmations. But still life continues to present me with continual minor challenges, hurdles and disappointments that distract me from what might be my main purpose in life. I think I am just plain unlucky.

But I am unlucky with a small U. It's not the big things car crashes, death of loved ones, disability, bancruptcy, redundancy, life threatening situations. No I get the cut down version, but continually... broken windows, flat tires, miscarriage, relationship breakdown, injury causing minor impairment, underperformance at work, rejection, infertility, dyslexia nothing out of the normal in any person's life. But it absolutely never lets up, and just when I think I see a clearing and that I might be able to get control of things... off it goes again put-downs, disappointment, poor investment, a broken tooth, lost passport, parking fine....

Lately I have actively been trying to think positive and be more organised, to relish the small achievements, and believe better things are coming, but evidence seems to be to the contrary.

Why did I marry him Part II

2010-11-24T18:48:00.000-08:00

Being single in my 40s feels quite different from being single in my 20s. I would say the main word to describe it would be "a relief". I am frustrated that I can't understand my mind set from my 20s.

Photo Credit http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/photo47649.htm

I recall a feeling that it was "wrong" to be single, and a yearning to be in a partnership. Each day as I travelled on the subway I would spend the journey checking women's ring fingers. Then an internal dialogue would ensue - "Well She's married and I'm much prettier than her" it was just a nirvana, it was a goal I desperately wanted to attain. I thought being married was a measure of how attractive and normal I was, and felt, I now cringe to admit, sorry for those who were not in that happy state by the time they were 25. I had no concept of people marrying for any reason other than love. In my mind, each and every one of these ringed creatures on the subway had been singled out, loved, and given the greatest gift life can bestow.

I thought marriage was the right way to exist. I didn't mind so much if the person was a soul mate. All I wanted was for someone, who I found attractive, and therefore could have sex with for 40+ years without gagging, to promise to love me for ever. In return I felt my status would rise. I would be a married woman and at length I would therefore have my own home and family and someone to share it with me through thick and thin. I assumed this would just follow. I was happy that we both should work outside the home to achieve this. That was the deal. But I had no idea how to make a man commit. Men were a mystery to me. None of them had ever been particularly emotionally close to me. It had all been rather superficial, teasing, flirting, having sex, talking about the news, politics....

Significantly money, or the ability to earn it, was not important to me in a mate. My Grandfather even said to me at one point "for goodness sake marry a man that can work". To me this sounded crass. Of course my boyfriend was a hard worker, and had the capacity, he was very young, and in time, like the rest of his family, he would find a profession that suited him.

If you had asked me I would've said "of course marriage takes work, it is a two way street both partners have to work at it" I would've also been quite happy to give myself over to this person in love. To really be there for them and be fiercely loyal to them.

In all of this however, no concept of a man providing a lifestyle ever entered into my head. Along with my Jane-Austen confused pretty-headed attitude to love and marriage, I nursed a strong feminist streak - I will never depend on a man, I will stand on my own two feet. In fact to look for that type of assurance would be wrong, sexist, and smack of grotesque inequality.

In this, I have since learned, I am somewhat unusual. Many, if not most girls are brought up to single out a good worker, and would not marry someone who was not. My time working in Asia underlined this most decidedly. A man's qualifications and earning capacity and assets are most definitely part of the package, and if I had read my Jane Austen properly, and listened to my Grandfather, I would've known that.
At this point, I might say though, I have an intuition. That there are many happily married women out there who went into marriage with this precise same mind set, and it worked out for them. Because they happened to pick (sorry, be picked by) the right guy, or they managed the one they did get well. They are happily celebrating their 25th wedding anniversaries none the wiser that this set of critical success factors were entirely the wrong set for picking a husband.
But back to me....
So in walks Simon. Simon pretty much exists for his own pleasure. And this girl who desperately wants to commit to him and give him a home and earn a living and is pretty and clever to boot certainly gives him pleasure. To date he has been rather unsuccessful in love because the other girls were looking for providers. He is pretty, there's no doubt about that, but he's also fairly dim, ineffective, combative, opinionated (without basis), irrational, stubborn and has a latent mental illness.
And in walks me... happy to settle, after all if you fancy someone, are prepared to work at it, and they're happy to commit, everything else will fall into place right? wrong! And so followed 16 years at the hands of an irrational dictator, where I bent myself into a pretzel to try to "make him" happy, and he subjected me to his whims, belittled all my dreams and milked me dry. Despite coming from a well-off family, and having a good education, he literally embraced poverty and actively rejected any form of providence or empire building rather he would give up jobs at the slightest provocation, live off my earnings in a rather louche style and yet always enjoy the best of everything - Italian mineral water, red wine, organic meat, pure new wool socks, skiing holidays...
Which, when reading that back, is what many women do, although they have child rearing as a focus. In the final analysis maybe he was a much better Elizabeth Bennet that me.

Utopia

2010-10-25T22:00:00.000-07:00

Hi there! Welcome to my perfect single parent lifestyle. First I'd like to introduce my son Connor. He's a great kid. He's happy and well-adjusted and doing well at school. He sees his dad more than once a week, and they get on well. He loves school and often comes home with prizes for academic work and sport. He makes me very proud.

He also is very well behaved. He does his chores when asked. He still finds a lot of time to be cheeky and play. One day he'll make someone a great husband. Our house is always full of children, he is so gregarious. We live near his school so they often pop in on their way home.

Photo credit: Dreamstime.com

Come on through the doors of my chic low maintenance home. I've paid two-thirds of the mortgage off now. We have three bedrooms and two bathrooms. For a while there we had a lodger to help pay the mortgage. Now I think that extra bathroom will be great to give us some privacy.

Photo Credit www.my-algarve-villa.co.uk Photo credit addicted2decorating.com

The maintenance is all handled by the body corporate. It does have a little patch of grass out the back, and soon when the trampoline comes down. I think I'll plant out some garden beds.

My work is pretty manageable these days. I'm enjoying it. I'm on top of the preparation, and am starting to get quite a bit of funding for the research I want to do. I get to travel and most times I can take Connor with me.

My partner Dave has a teenage daughter Nessa. He lives in a city about 70km away, where his ex wife lives, so that he can see Nessa during the week. Dave's involved in town planning, but he is also a very talented amateur musician. He plays cello in the symphonia up in his home town. Connor and I often go and listen. He comes down mostly on my child free weekends and we have lovely honeymoon times. We manage to spend about 5 days a fortnight together. He is pretty good at helping out with Connor, and we have had a few skiing and fishing trips together which were great. We are even planning a trip to Bali in the spring. Nessa is going to College in my town, so I hope Dave will spend some more time with us then. Eventually we hope to move closer when the kids are grown up and hopefully travel a bit. But we both seem to like it the way it is at the moment. When he's with me I really look after him, we have lots of great meals together and cook for our friends. Dave knows he can absolutely rely on me if he needs me in times of crisis. I adore him, and love the times we spend together.

Be the man I'd like to marry??

2010-10-20T22:29:00.000-07:00

I think in taking up with Ex23 in revenge for Neil's SA I was somehow responding to the mantra

"be the whore you wish you're husband wasn't"

These past few days there has been a lot of pain, over something there shouldn't've been. For about six weeks I have been "No touch dating" (not at my instigation) a man who I have come to like a lot. He is, as well as being all the things on my latest "check list", financially secure. Frankly I wish he wasn't really or at least that he was only as secure as I. AKA "A battler" I absolutely hate that he can use his success, and my child, to write me off as a romantic possibility.

Read the story of our last date below, and perhaps you'll see why I have a new mantra

"Be the success you would (once) have liked to marry"

10/19/2010

By the time i arrived home I was feeling pretty uneasy. Eventually I plucked up courage to call on the pretext of thanking Him for the night. Pleasantries completed, he was about to hang up when I blurted out...

"John. Are we just friends?"

He had clearly been awaiting this call. And listened calmly as he told me the following.

His life is in too much of a state of flux to commit at the moment.

He doesn't want to rush into anything that would leave him with 'obligations'.

He is pretty secure in his life and could retire and doesn't want anyone or anything to jeopardize that.

He has found relationships with women who have kids of Connor's age rarely succeed.

In such relationships he has found that he has to assume second place or lower

There were some vague remarks about knights in shining armour. . And to my questions about
chemistry or if he found me attractive...his response was "I won't even go there .."

I cried after we hung up and again the next morning. But what really was the source of these tears? I genuinely liked him. I haven't lost his company, he is quite happy to be friends. Maybe I was fostering a dream? Maybe I am lonely or sexually frustrated. But the truth is in saying all that he made a judgement of me. i.e.

that I am more liability than asset and that I am not worth the risk.

My attractiveness or otherwise remained steadfastly, tactfully, unassesed leaving me paradoxically even more insecure, and needy like I had never been when I thought he liked me.

I truly, honestly, vehemently hate the place I am in right now. I work extremely hard, I have a good professional job. And yet I am a dating pariah on account of being "down at heel" in relation to single men of my own generation who have been more strategic and/or lucky in their choice of job and investments and ex-partners. No! I don't want a knight in shining armour! I don't want to be rescued! I want to make my own way in the world with a loving respectful partner at my side. When I stop spitting tacks I might puke, or cry. I'd've been better of procreating with a millionaire and taking him for everything he's got. Many women in my "posh" suburb are there purely on account of their rich husbands. I, unlike them, am a good, hardworking, solid woman of integrity.

But then I hear the first tiny voice... Did I see him as a way out? in some way? given my earlier post I knew perfectly well that it would not be easy to invite a man into my chaotic lifestyle, so why would this outcome surprise me? The last two comments I think were encompassed in point 3 of Neil's exit report. If you have a child it makes it harder to look after a man, and men like to be No1. Those last two points hurt because they are true. It is incidentally also true of married men, but they have obligations to their children.

In the earlier post I think it is paradoxically that it was connor's behaviour, my gritty self reliance and my assets rather than lack thereof that I saw as a barrier.

Then I hear the second little voice. Maybe he's just not that into you. If he really found you as mesmerising and "right" as you find him he would overcome those things.

Yes, and that is a topic for my next post. I have suddenly got a whole bunch of inspiration. Look forward to my writings on

Another offer to wait
Arbeit macht frei
The price of this child
Perfect single (parent) lifestyle

Then and now

2010-10-20T20:30:00.000-07:00

I have, stuck into my old diary on the date 31/08/1984, the following list of features of MY IDEAL MAN which I annotated as being "not in any particular order". I was 18 this was more than half a life away... this is presumably the order in which I thought of them

brains
long legs
blue eyes
straight nose
clear skin, clean body
fit
sings in tune
reasonably fashionable
modest
nice smile and teeth
christian
not materialistic or right wing
not a male chauvanist
loyal
only speaks when he has something to say
not overweight but not weedy
not bad breath
sexy & romantic but not condescending

And here is a list I put together more recently

Tendency to be faithful/loyal/respectful
Tendency to be collaborative/power sharing/consultative
Tendency to be honest/upfront and not manipulative
Employed
Genuine love of women not objectification
Fit
Appreciation of the arts/literature
Creative
Similar sense of humour to mine
Social conscience
Practical/good at fixing things
Taller than me

I guess the things that the two lists have in common are fitnesss (maybe I take some of those things about bad breath and washing as a given these days - I guess it was teenagers I was dealing with then!!!) There is something around respect for women in general, and something around loyalty to me in particular.

Apart from that a lot about image has been replaced with personal qualities. I guess at 18 expecting someone to be "employed" or have a career was unreasonable. Maybe "brainy" was a proxy for that although "not materialistic" came to bite me in the form of Simon.

2010-10-04T19:24:00.000-07:00

Surprise Surprise! I got the chance to read the Saturday paper - rare indeed. Simon has Connor for a few days to give me a break.

I'm not sure why I am still dwelling on this infidelity nonsense, but I am and the paper gave me a shot in the arm. In an article called "Our Cheatin Hearts" Infidelity was explored from a number of angles. Perhaps more interesting are the 44 comments on the online version which seem broadly polarised between "It is just so wrong, and can you believe how hurtful it is" and "we are not designed to be monogamous - get over it" with a significant proportion espousing a sort of planned polyamory.

The article refers to a book by Kate Figes called Couples: The Truth

Figes notes that even though some relationships don't survive the blast of an affair, others emerge out the other side, with "a deeper intimacy". She suggests our "sanctimonious" stance on fidelity belies an insecurity about our relationships. With people today able to have sex, kids and a material life without marriage, "all the old reasons for [it] don't exist any more". With nothing else left, fidelity is held up as the prime symbol of marriage, to try to assure its survival in a world of raunchy temptation and easy divorce.

I tend to agree with that. I think what's important is love, trust and respect. However, how you implement them is totally up to you. Marriage, open relationships, whatever - as long as there is love, trust, and respect. Monogamous faithful marriage doesn't suit every couple, and more particularly it is the dynamic between them that is critical . A woman who is happily married may not have been so if she had picked a different partner. Perhaps if there were less pressure to "grow up, get married, settle down" then marriages would be more likely to occur only when both participants were in that zone.

One interesting comment to me was from a woman who had been cheated on by her husband and his (single) work colleague. She called the woman a parasitic home-wrecker and accused her of actively pursuing her husband, whereupon she was brought into line by another commentator who said

I can empathise but I think you're wrongly apportioning the blame. Your husband was the one in a committed relationship. Assuming that his lover was not, your husband committed moral wrongs that are much, much more despicable.

Which in some way provided me an answer to a comment put by one of our own who had put into question why a single woman will have an affair with a married man, but cease when she herself is in a committed relationship. The answer had been obvious to me, but the reason for it more obscure. I suppose it is just that violating your own committed relationship is harder to justify than violating someone elses.

A serious look at my options

2010-09-28T18:33:00.000-07:00

I am feeling trapped by single parenthood

I love my child desparately, but a number of things have conspired to make me feel alone, unable to cope and really admit to myself that I am not doing a good job.

My work is demanding,

Running a home alone is tiring and requires a greater financial input than living with someone else (mere economy of scale)

Connor is becoming unruly and I don't have to tools or energy to address it

I am bored by my career frankly and its only purpose is to keep the money rolling in to pay the bills

I hardly ever get to relax truly. Partly due to Connor's demandingness, and partly due to my own dilligence about work. It honestly never leaves me.

I am in pain a lot of the time.

This last one is the clincher, without that I could summon my usual indomitable energy to the problem, but I really am just surviving most of the time.

Trying to think laterally about how I might get out of this rut.

Work smarter - actually get promoted, actually do a good job, get recognition, more money to pay cleaners/nannies/ a mortgage

Make Connor's dad take a larger part in his life - by fair means or foul

Run away and start a new life

Identify a new career and work steadily towards it.

Develop a sideline career

But first..... need energy....need to get rid of this pain...not with opiates....

It seems advisable to fix my parenting style before inviting a man into my life

Strange relationship vacuum

2010-09-28T18:15:00.000-07:00

Once again I am painfully aware that I don't know myself it is similar to the feeling when I first cheated with EX23 of being able to forgive my SA. That was probably a fake feeling but I suppose I felt the table had four legs in some way. I was no longer having this done to me, but I was doing it right back.

And now Ex23 is out of my life. In rushes this craving to be with someone. Uh? I wasn't really with him, or in a relationship but somehow it was substituting for it, and I felt empowered to be single. Happy to just be me because... I wasn't. In the back of my mind, I had this illusion that someone cared for me, someone found me attractive, and someone was planning to make a space for me in their future.

I also had the illusion that he was somehow my friend and confidante. I used to email him all sorts of detail about my life with Connor, long descriptions of happy and sad moments. Often he would tell me about his family too. We'd talk about our college days and how our friends from that time were going. I thought he was an old friend.

For his part I was "the perfect sly fuck" and his reaction when I asked him not to sms or call me ( I didn't want him having carte blanche to dial into my life whether I was out with friends, visiting my parents or in bed with a new lover, but I wouldn't have minded the odd keep in touch email) his reaction was "OK will remove you from my address book to avoid temptation" . In my girlish naivite this feels like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

And I am craving closeness to someone. Sigh. Another false dawn. Now I have some real work to do to really exist on my own and feel secure in this world.

Single Parent Cling-on

2010-09-28T17:54:00.000-07:00

Being the single parent of a single child has many challenges. On the upside we are the smallest, neatest family you can imagine. On the downside, Connor has no playmate but me, and that can be quite exhausting, so from time to time inevitably we look for alternatives.

During my five years of single parenthood, I have always been grateful for families that take us under their wing. We are absorbed by them on their day-trips, holidays, Christmasses and parties. It is lovely to feel part of something bigger, and I am grateful it is just the two of us, as we are very manageable and invites are often forthcoming. However, some element of this is starting to wear thin. Namely that I always feel like a third wheel, gooseberry, lemon.

This is just about bearable when I am with a couple I know well and like and the arrangement is made well in advance. However Connor, being a very gregarious child often picks up families at school or on holiday and gets us invited along. So I find myself hanging out at cafes, beaches, playground with couples I hardly know basically cramping their style like an oversized chaperone. Or that is how it feels to me. Sometimes it just seems it would be easier to dispense with the niceties and say "Just mind my child for a while I'm off for some me time" But that too feels socially unacceptable, unless it comes with a reciprocal arrangement whereby I get 3-4 unpredictable rampaging kids in my apartment for the afternoon. They at least get the pleasure of each other's company at the end of a day of kid wrangling.

This, as much as other elements of single parenthood, is almost enough to propel me into a relationship.

The gut instinct

2010-09-24T22:10:00.000-07:00

Well here I am on date 3 and he still hasn't tried to kiss me. I think this is good. Because now I have this horrible intuition about myself that I fall in love too easily. The moment I get "that kiss" he will become my partner and I will rearrange my life around him. Please no! but Please how??

I also need to take careful account of my initial feelings here and record them. But before I do a little SA spotting digression

I was trying to develop a clear measure of what it was that Neil, and Ex23 did on those first dates that made me feel uneasy. Here is one example, which is of course triggering for anyone who's been with an SA. They asked me to describe to them, in detail, if I ever made myself come, and if I did how I acheived it, exactly. And they both would've asked this on the first or second date. And do you know a funny thing, I told them, even though in 16 years of marriage what we did in private, and in the absence of each other, (or anyone else!!!) remained a closed book for Simon and I. I did sometimes ask him if he helped himself out you know, but he was very reluctant to share and I didn't push it and he never asked me. Yet we had a very happy and regular sex life.

OK so here'd be my intuitions on the new man - lets call him John

(1) He's a little bit controlling.

(a) He made this remark that if anyone tells him to do anything he absolutely will not do it but if they ask him, more than happy. I think at some level that is normal, but will it be an eggshell type of thing where you have to ask in the right way for fear of accidentally barking an order???
(b) He always rings if he's like 2.5 minutes late, or indeed if you are. Puctuality is clearly very important.

(2) He's a bit repressed aka a cold fish- although anyone would seem that way after being with an SA. He doesn't give much away, and he hasn't even tried to brush my hand, let alone hold it, or kiss me, but he keeps asking me on "dates" maybe we are just friends? In the past though if a fellow thought there was no chemistry I have been summarily brushed off after 1 or at most 2 dates.

(3) He may be a mommy's boy. I actually think this is less toxic than hating your mother. However he cancelled our first date to take her somewhere, and he is again not calling today because he is with her. She is old and a widow, so I guess she deserves some support. But I wonder could this ever come between us? Simon's mother could do no wrong, but this would appear to be a new level...

(4) He's never had kids and never wants them, so very much so that he has actually had a vasectomy - we did talk about that. Which is fine, unneccessary on my account since I am functionally infertile anyway, but two questions. Is is a symptom of the aforementioned control? does he want to make damn sure no woman spawns with him and steals his assets? and most importantly, if we did get in a relationship what, if any are the implications for Connor? he doesn't want his own kids why would he want someone elses?

So for the record, that's the summary of gut reactions. Is is bad? should I run, hold hands what???

ps another thing that has helped me deal with Ex23 the last couple of days is this

Gone too far

2010-09-22T04:32:00.000-07:00

I've often been disappointed in the way my life went. My choice of men, my infertility issues, I didn't get promoted at work, have to live too far away from my family. But overall I have always told myself that I got a "good package" I'm relatively nice looking, smart, I have a great family, I earn enough, am quite good at sport and generally have little to complain about. Then I woke up this morning, and quite suddenly realise that this is no longer true. I'm not sure if its the loss of Ex23 or what but I can no longer pretend that my life doesn't stink. I've lost my home, my love life, my child is spoilt and unmanageable, I am crippled with some mystery hip disorder which is causing me a lot of pain and not allowing me to do the things by which I previously measured myself. I am underperforming at work. It's no use, we have ticked into the red, and I really have no idea how to bring things back in line again.

Letting Ex23 Go

2010-09-16T05:54:00.001-07:00

I have finally let ex23 go. And it hurts. But in all honesty my conscience got the better of me. Surprisingly, his didn't. I can now re-embrace the sisterhood. Accept my slap on the wrist and promise, as far as is humanly possible never to do it again.

Two posts helped me. This one, oddly annoyed me, because I used to be that person, a wronged woman who would never touch a married man, I had firm lines around what I would and wouldn't do, until I re-encountered Ex23. My defenses were down, and my sense of wrong and right twisted. What started as a one night stand turned to love and besottedness. And it was shown to me, graphically, that we are all fallible.

I apparently have some sort of daddy hole it wouldn't be my choice of nomenclature, but none the less after Neil cheated, came out as a sex addict, and treated me with indifference, I had a hole in my soul that badly needed plugging by "Just a boy" (credits to Get to the inside) the thrill of reuniting with someone I had last been with half a life ago (in 1986 to be exact) was absolutely and utterly overwhelming, intoxicating. We were 23 again. How was I to know it was, in fact fake love? Actually I remain in doubt. I still harbor a suspicion that it is the real thing. But I cannot bear to be kept on a string. I said to him when I ended it, what do you expect? for me to wait 30 years for you? "Yes" he said, "because I'm worth it". That has a very narcissistic after taste I can tell you.

I will miss his daily sms, and declarations of love, and midnight phone calls. Perhaps he did truly believe we belonged together, but the facts remain, as long as it stayed as it was, he still has an in tact, functioning family to go home to, who have the benefit of his presence, love, and money. Whereas I have nothing... I'm sure a dozen married men in my own city would be more than willing to offer what he was offering when it is boiled down... occasional no-strings-hotel-sex and (fake) declarations of love.

But what of "Just a boy"? get to the inside describes him as "a boy or man who has yet to learn how to love outside of himself; a boy/man who unknowingly and unintentionally hurts others due to his inability to consider other people besides himself" awww little innocent lamb. I think I specialize in these.

I listened to quite a funny radio show about cheating today, it was a variation on the sex-addict meets love-addict theme. Suggesting women cheat because they are looking for love to fill and emotional void, and men do the same thing, but they are incapable of expressing their emotions except, as validated by society, by hitting someone, or by having sex with them. At the end of the show the panel were clearly divided between the kick-him-to-the-kerb camp and the you-shall-learn-and-grow from this camp.

Repartnering - The great dichotomy

2010-09-13T23:55:00.000-07:00

My friends and so-called advisors fall into two categories (whether they know about the SA or not strangely). Although few could understand what it does to your moral compass, or the PSD associated with it. So this is what they say:

(1) Grab yourself a man quick before your charms fade - and don't be so fussy
(2) You are a princess and settle for nothing less than perfection

Well I got brave and went on a date. And surprisingly I quite liked him. He was nice looking, fit, not offensive to women (thus far) well qualified (if that matters) and quite amusing all round.

Surprising when I had pretty much sworn off men, to find myself with this conundrum. I find myself asking

(1) have I somehow lowered my standards? In that there is, it turns out, an intelligent, handsome and charming man out there who wants to date me where I had thought they were all overweight, hairy, dependent, sociopaths.

(2) So what's wrong with him? and why can't I see it?

(3) Am I carrying out my due dilligence - ie how can I not get trapped in the same old nightmare again?

The right time for lifestyle

2010-09-13T18:29:00.001-07:00

I was walking home at sunset last night and caught sight of an elderly woman sipping a drink on her urban terrace, surrounded by terracotta pots and flowers. And I thought.... that's what I want to be.... And then... but that isn't so far away. In 15 years' time I'll be 60.

The only way I had believed this vision could be mine was by buying a house or apartment on my own which would involve extreme stress and hard work over the next couple of decades. Then I suddenly had the thought... why put yourself through that? save for retirement, and you can rent the apartment of your dreams.

When is the time for lifestyle? Most people want to provide a love-nest/family nest for their growing family with as many mod-cons as they can afford. Lawn/pool/family room/chef's kitchen. My time to attain this is running short. Connor will be grown up by the end of the decade. I have no lover for my love-nest. What's the point really, of enslaving myself to home ownership when I have no-one to enjoy it with and the one I can enjoy it with is on his way out?

Fast rising house prices? security? Inheritance for your children?

I spent my young married days living in downright hovels saving money, and my savings did not keep up with the house prices. Then I put my savings into a dream home and lost the small amount of appreciation to my cheating de-facto. So now at 45 when many have nearly paid off their homes. I have at best 1/3 of a house and 20 years to pay off the other 2/3 alone.

Despite my providence I am not secure.

Damsel in Distress

2010-08-22T04:38:00.000-07:00

I spent the evening with my friend who is a life coach and she at some stage trotted out this platitude that all men need a damsel in distress to rescue, and all women need a knight in shining armor.

I think the former is true in my experience, if you are a little bit tough or successful (or tougher or more successful than them) many men will seek to weaken you or put you down so they can fulfill that role.

If Neil could hear my internal dialogue now or read my postings about new found independence, and squeamishness about wanting a man in my life at all, he would tell me this is just typical of me because I have to be right. Having lost him, I now seek to justify it, to prove to the world, come what may, that I can survive without him. But he would be gaslighting me.

I feel no sadness about having lost him, only relief. My heart has been broken before, and this is not it. But he would need for me to be sad, to not be coping so he could feel validated, needed..

So I don't doubt that men need to be the knight in shining armor and don't get me wrong I think it can be a beautiful thing. I even think women who play on it and work it to their advantage are quite smart. "Poor silly me, I can't change a car tire!" after all their men want and need to feel strong and dependable, why not let them? I just couldn't do it myself.

So what of the damsel in distress? you're waiting for me to say NO NOT ME NEVER. Following my last post, this wouldn't be a surprise. But I can imagine circumstances where I would love to be swept up, supported, and made to feel safe. When other humans use or abuse me, when I'm in shock after an accident, sick, overburdened or suffering loss. But to expect to have men do work I can perfectly well do myself is, to me, contrived. On the other hand if they don't help in these fundamental situations, but instead replace it with meaningless groping or minimize it that is not good enough. The difference to me is very clear, but for all the men I have met so far this distinction would smack of game-playing.

But in reading back the second paragraph there is a very ugly underbelly to the knight in shining armor and the damsel in learned distress scenario. Namely it fosters learned dependence and if everything or anything should ever go wrong, who is left de-skilled? Not the knight.

Harsh Training

2010-08-19T05:12:00.000-07:00

It's very hard bringing a child up on my own, making all my decisions, feeling out of control and having noone to bounce ideas off. But as I finally get it all together and realise that I have done this alone, as I build my own haven, the place where a man would fit closes over.

I really have this strong intuition that if a man came into my life and started offering to carry my bags, open doors for me, grope my tits when I am anxious about work, I may actually choke. To someone used to operating at this level, to make a difference would require so much more...

So all this hardship doesn't train you to be a yielding wife or lover at all. It trains you to be a hard nosed survivor. I feel sorry, but I am changed from being incompletely and unproperly loved all these years.

Epiphany

2010-08-15T17:18:00.000-07:00

I feel a bit churlish proposing this, and I don't wish to underplay my other achievements, but I think separating from Neil has been my biggest achievement of the year.

The other night I found a file on my computer entitled "Questions for lawyer" in which I make toothless requests to be compensated for my investment, to be treated fairly regarding my contributions, for transparency in transactions since our split.

It became painfully apparent that there is an underlying truth here. To get separate from that man I had to lose the home that I loved, take a financial hit, ignore his game-playing and, unless I wanted a year of pain and uncertainty over getting the house ready for sale, and selling it in a down market, I also had to accept what HE could afford even if it was below market rate. Not to mention the disruption and expense of moving and storing all my stuff and resettling my son. It has been a monumental effort.

But now the dust has settled, and I contemplate the alternative of still living with him, being undermined, cheated on, gaslighted and made to doubt myself further and further. It has not only been worth it, but a great acheivement. I get a chance to start again and be free.

A strange new place (for me)

2010-08-09T02:04:00.000-07:00

I remember back in the old days when friends said to me "I don't want a relationship right now" I did not understand, and simply could not believe them What? you're not searching for ever lasting love? you don't want kids and a family? are you gay? but not out yet? Have you no libido?

I'm not saying I understand it now, or can offer any explanation, but I am now suddenly and inexplicably in that place.

If my libido has not actually disappeared, it is at least in hiding, and I find what I see out there to say the least very unappealing. I was married for 16 years to Simon who was (and is) a rather good looking guy, tall slim, fit, great bone structure, lovely head of naturally blonde hair... Why would I want to even think about making out with some out of shape bald middle aged guy?

I really don't want a domestic relationship for (at least) three reasons

(1) The whole property settlement twice in 5 years thing has left me defensive of my assets - such as they are

(2) I don't want to impose Connor on anyone - he's spoilt and difficult and takes up all my time

(3) I am relishing making it on my own for the time-being as hard as it is

And I don't even know what I do want. Just some social life with the chance to flirt with some nice men, and maybe at sometime in the future very occasional sex with a weekend lover who is good at fixing things.

I know this may all be about me, and my issues with trust, having spent the last four years with a sex addict and then seen first hand how unfaithful a married man can be. Probably I am protecting myself but for now at least it feels like a safe and comfortable place to be.

Codependence?

2010-08-01T17:24:00.000-07:00

I have never confided our recent struggles with the headlice that Connor has been bringing home periodically over the past few months, I've sprayed, and combed and lost myself in a hair conditioning slurry and over the months I confess, I have developed a grudging affection for these little critters.

But I had an epiphany when I saw this in a science bookshop lately. Yes! A cuddly headlouse.

It's the physical manifestation of my codependence....

Yes! anything that invades my life, abuses my trust, sucks my blood, lives off me I immediately develop an attachment to. Works for me.

The second post of the day

2010-07-31T06:02:00.000-07:00

I couldn't work at home this morning, the place was a mess, Connor not here, so I set out for breakfast at a cafe with my computer. Soon after a dad came in with his severely intellectually disabled child and sat at the table next to me.

Every interaction that I overheard made me feel close to tears. That the dad clearly loved him so much, that the boy was really trying to read and write - unlike my spoilt, yet perfect child who never tries at anything.

Having grown up with an intellectually disabled brother, you would've thought I'd have something to offer, but more often than not, when I encounter families with disabled kids, I over-identify and become emotional. I really wonder at myself. If they can handle it? why can't I? Maybe its because I know first hand what has to be overcome to keep going in life with a child like that? Maybe some unresolved childhood survivor guilt, that I am OK and I couldn't fix him. Or maybe I am just a sook. But I would be hopeless in a professional role with disabled kids. How would the parents react to a carer who just kept bursting into tears????

Husband-Missing (Or missing the spot where he used to be)

2010-07-31T05:26:00.000-07:00

It started as a commment on Et Tu Husband then it just blew out into great big thing that was all about me so I decided to admit it and make it a post. Bernadine was admitting that in one aspect she missed her husband. Now I think I am through the frank outright missing my husband phase... I've had the rebound relationship...etc.... but I was having a similar (or sort of aligned) thought about Simon today

Here's the thing:

He still feels at liberty to laugh at me - calling me a cougar (for no discernable reason) or suggesting my latest craft endeavour is a substitute for sex. In fact Anything I confide in him, or try to negotiate like an adult, he turns into a joke - like an annoying little brother. Sometimes even using a little high mocking voice. (e.g. "whooo! little bit touchy there" when I asked him not to go through my drawers ostensibly looking for something for Connor)

Today I was trying to work out why it annoyed me so much, and it was this. We USED to laugh at each other and that WAS fine, because we knew deep down that we loved each other and were there for each other. Now this trust is long gone, and I can't rely on him, I don't love him, and he irritates me intensely. I no longer feel that is is appropriate for him to laugh at my expense because he's not giving me the safety net for my fragile ego. He is no longer. as one commenter put it, a safe compassionate witness to my life experience.

I can't undo that

2010-07-29T06:30:00.000-07:00

But like sleeping beauty's fairy godmother, I can soften it a little....

You won't die of marriage, you will just go to sleep for 20 years....

Before I fell asleep this is what I heard

There is no his and hers in marriage
There are no roles to play
Each person is perfectly and completely respected in the role they choose
That you don't know the person when you commit, is the most beautiful aspect of all, ie that you trust and grow together
There will be hard times and you may have to work at it, but never will those hard times eat at you from the inside out, consume your soul, or leave you as a shell: When marriage is working it is not that hard
You will both make mistakes, but you will never disrespect one another or lose trust and faith in your partner

I expect there are some of you out there who still quite like the concept of marriage...

My take on Marriage

2010-07-26T17:44:00.000-07:00

credit:www.wymondham-station.com

In recent years it has been my tendency to blame Neil for my jaded view of marriage, but as I sit here in the school playground - admiring the yummy mummies... and daddies I start to realize the other latent influence in my life EX23 is just as culpable. But I'm jumping ahead of myself. Here is my *current* cynical view

Women in Marriage:

Are subjugated,
Lose all their decision making power,
realize too late the job of child rearing:

will be all theirs and
will severely impinge on their careers

Have to turn a blind eye to cheating husbands
Have to deal with daily put downs from same
and are made to feel unattractive by same

Men in Marriage:

Discover that their sole function is wage earning machines
Have to come home after a stressful day to do a second shift and be unappreciated
Their wives are increasingly reluctant to have sex with them and give up trying to look attractive
Whatever they do is not good enough
If they divorce they have to give away the proceeds of their lifetimes' work
They ultimately "treat themselves" to extra-marital affairs

My granny used to say "Sex was a lot more fun before everyone knew about it". To me Marriage was a lot more palatable before I saw the underbelly. And affairs were a lot more fun/romantic beforel I was affected by them.

Now I know there are men wandering about who have such scant regard for fidelity - ie that its on the "nice to have but not essential" list, and women who are too weak, deluded, desperate to say no. I can't really bring myself to commit to one.

I'm with Miranda

2010-07-18T14:15:00.000-07:00

Cynthia Nixon as Miranda Hobbes in Sex and the City

"Believe me, I would love to be one of those people who's all, "we loved, thank
you, you enriched my life, now go, prosper," but I'm much more "we didn't work
out, you need to not exist."

I'm with Miranda on this one. I am sick and tired of managing Ex's. Neil occasionally signs off his maniacal legal demands with "I hope when this is all over we can meet up as friends over coffee". Like HELL we can. If I had wanted cosy coexistence with you, I would still be living in the spare room. I FLED. For a good reason.

And take note all you young things. If you have a child with someone they will always "Exist"...

Lonely

2010-07-18T05:33:00.000-07:00

I warn you, this isn't going to be an insightful post. I am self-pitying, premenstrual and yes slightly drunk. I have had a terrible day. It is becoming increasingly difficult to visualise my future.

But then, when could I?

I guess when I was happy, I lived in the moment. For those 3 (4?) years when I was pretending to be in a relationship with Neil where did I actually think it was going to end? Happy reconciliation, kids, family home, world travel, sexy matching careers???

Perhaps more likely I thought we would co-exist amicably, see the least possible of each other, maybe even find lovers outside the relationship, but maintain the all important "family home"

When I split up with Simon where did I think it would end? Happy supportive co-parenting
No I don't think I thought that far, I just needed to be AWAY from his toxic, controlling influence, at that stage Connor was so young I thought of him as part of me, I had no idea I had to negotiate with Simon for-the-rest-of-my-life.

So about my bad day. This weekend I holed up in my tiny overpriced rented accomodation and tried to catch up on the work I had missed with a whole week of family admin: Getting Connor into a new school, buying a car, changing my address on my bank accounts, THE LAWYER in final rip-off settlement with Neil. Moving my stuff about from friend's places, storage etc.

I had a couple of dates arranged with girlfriends at the end of the weekend to look forward to. Then on Saturday night EX23 calls me with a tirade blaming the fact we are not together on me, talking dirty, being incredibly rude to me. But mainly putting me down at an incredibly low point in my life when you might expect an "old friend" to pick you up. He's an ego manic extraordinare. I attract them. I realise he is probably sick and it is definitely over between us. Whatever "it" was. I am so sad about that. Then today both my friends cancel. Finally, Simon delivers Connor back and I have to endure 3 hours of tantrums about how he wants to be with Daddy, he doesn't feel safe with me. This is the child I fought for, the only person who means anything to me in this world. I am so excruciatingly and exquisitely trapped. I am almost ready to give Connor his wish and lodge him permanently at Simon's which is madness. Simon is mentally ill and Connor is the only thing I have ever truly fought for.

Absolutely noone is here for me on this side of the world. I want to run back to my folks.

But even that is sad and regressive, they will die, then where will I be? I can't believe that a girl with such potential could screw everything up so comprehensively? I should be safely ensconced in my family home with 2.2 kids a white picket fence and a cheating husband by now.

So what of the future? a slow decline into menopause or even senililty - my memory is shot to pieces, decreasing control over my child, my career, my life? a crippling mortgage? a loss of ability to do sport which had been my main means of meeting people. Yes, it emerges this week I have the early stages of Arthritis. How to go on? How actually to put one foot in front of the other?? and why bother?

But still on the work front a batch of new projects are looming. I have to front up, be the boss, do my thing. With zero enthusiasm. Someone please paint me a future....what do sports people who become crippled do? what do maiden aunts do? I need role models, ideas I need to move forward.

Control

2010-07-04T21:02:00.000-07:00

Over the past few days I've been wondering

Is control a good thing, or a bad thing?

Here's the thing. I have been taking comfort in the fact I have no control over my life in a "Let go and let god" kind of a way. That is, there are certain things I just cannot control and I will hurt myself trying. However I am wondering where the boundaries lie. By which I mean, at what point does this become abdication of responsibility?

i.e I can't control when I feel too tired to get out of bed and go to work!

So I turned to Amazon.com for the answer. Broadly it seems anything to do with controlling your diet, or your anger, is OK and controlling your life is OK until it becomes OCD. Having anyone else control you is toxic and bad and you need to learn to say "No"!!!

I think as my ex husband's psychiatrist said, we all need some level of controlling behaviour to function in professional roles, but the trick is not to let it get out of hand where we need to control other people to feel in control of our own lives. This will never be me. I always follow the codie route in that regard.

Thank you Blogosphere

2010-06-24T02:01:00.001-07:00

When I think about the challenges I face. From the tiring, work-a-day tasks, to the awkward to the truly unpalatable, the sad, hard or heartbreaking choices I have to make. Nothing consoles me more than the thought I can write it out here. When nothing else remains, I will still have writing, and for this I am very grateful.

Feminism, the sisterhood, bitchy women and the games people play

2010-06-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

Once again life with my SA partner has called me up short on how I see the world.

In his mind, all his ex's and FBs had mental health issues. In his words, they were MAD!.

They called him in the middle of the night MAD!
They tried to get revenge by torching his clothes MAD!
They ranted about feminism MAD!
They wanted more, and simply could not accept his "deal" MAD!
They clung on when it was well and truly over MAD!

As far as I can make out some of these are a bit deranged, some of them could be construed as love or infatuation. And his response to that? "I told them I was only in it for sex, if they wanted more they were perfectly at liberty to leave"

And what I read in all these comments (eventually) was "You, Neil, are a toxic, woman hating mysogynist" It is also a very easy way of covering up a rogue sms or phone call. "SHIT it's that MAD! woman calling me again. Can't believe how many times I have told her to sling her hook"

Now there is a beautiful post on MAD! women over at woman of experience, which completely explains how all this fits in with your sex-addict-woman-hating-mysogynist-fuckbuddy philosophy...

But suddenly I begin to see a different angle on this. Which is that if not mad, many women are bitchy and do play head games with men. And if men like them a bit mad, truth be told they also like them a bit bitchy. In my clumsy forays into dating I have found the old addage of "treat them mean, keep them keen" (which I always hated) has worked inadvertently more than I could possibly have imagined.

I hated that addage because I thought it was disrespectful to men. If you love them, let them know, if you don't let them know also. Treat them with the openness you would expect yourself, and through mutual respect build a loving partnership. I remember some nerdy young fellow who had been chasing the prettiest girl in my stats class saying to me "the thing about you Fiona, is that you are so, SO, er...straightforward" I took it as a compliment. Likewise regarding the sisterhood. I would never talk disparagingly about another girls physical attractiveness to a man, put another girl down, sleep with another girl's boyfriend...

But hang on! I actually don't think men want a straightforward girlfriend. Seeing from this middle age vantage point how very very much young men want sex and what they will do for it. Playing them, and trading up could have very serious advantages for a young attractive girl. Plus they love the thrill of the chase.

I see little girls doing it to their Daddys. They won't smile until they get what they want. They keep him waiting, they pout and cheat and lie to get what they want, and the Daddys fall for it every time.

And frankly I wish I had more than that. If men are going to be nasty manipulative mysogynistic bastards. Sock it right back to them. All's fair in love and war.

You'll never walk alone

2010-06-21T06:50:00.000-07:00

Last Wednesday I set out on my bicycle to my friends house, about 5 miles away for an evening with the girls, it was a lovely warm evening, and the bunny rabbits were hopping in the long grass as I took the path across the common and down by the river in a secluded spot behind the golf course. When I came to ride home in the dark, it was a different matter. I heard every fox rustling in the undergrowth and every cow ruminating and shifting its bulk as I took off across the meadow on a damp moonless night with only the rasping of my ancient dynamo light on my bike to light my way. In a word I was petrified. I was so delighted to finally get home around 11.30pm I nearly kissed the earth.

Then two days later I was driving to the doctors when a song came on the radio "You'll never walk alone" sung by Siphiwo Ntshebe. He was going to sing at the world cup but died of menigitis. He was in his early 30s and a magnificent African tenor. As I listened my eyes filled with tears. That Siphiwo has been taken from us, and that I feel as though I am very much walking alone as I return to the other side of the world to carry on my life, away from my family. In fact it feels very much like plunging into that dark, dark forest with all its unknown assailants and associated terror.

INFP: The Idealist

2010-06-04T03:34:00.000-07:00

Reposted from The REAL Personality Types:

I am and INFP and am starting to wonder if this is the problem. I am attracted to ITSJs in a predator-prey type of way (with me being the prey)

The INFP is a dreamy, imaginitive, idealist, capable of finding the good in anything or anyone, even something as foul as Newark, New Jersey. INFPs are sometimes dangerous to the well-being of society as a whole, as they are prone to adopting subversive and destructive ideologies like "The world should be fair," People should treat one another well," and "You know, 'Friends' is a really, really stupid television show."

These irrational thought patterns may sometimes cause INFPs to run off and join the circus, the Resistance, or the Rebellion, where they tend to do well in any position requiring excellent hand-eye coordination or mastery of the Force.

COMPATIBILITY: INFPs and ISTJs generally exhibit a natural predator/prey relationship, which, though it might appear harsh and cruel from the outside, is all part of the natural cycle of life. In fact, were it not for the predation of the ISTJ, the population of INFPs would soon grow to unsustainable levels, overwhelming the ability of their ecological niche to support them.

Famous idealists include that girl in your sixth-grade homeroom who got the teacher fired for saying that girls aren't good at math; that guy in the cubicle next to yours who got the manager fired for saying that women don't make good employees; and Anais Nin.

Limited Liability Love

2010-06-01T02:13:00.000-07:00

I've just been to see sex and the city 2, and yes story-wise it probably is as bad as the reviewers claim. Maybe not like being lobotomized with a pink plastic teaspoon....... as Hadley Freeman of the Guardian would have it. However the insecurity that Charlotte feels surrounding what her husband might do with the Nanny whilst she was away got me thinking.

If not exactly triggering, it made me return to my own experience of infidelity and how I might handle it differently next time. The train of thought went something like this:

I will never demean myself by getting into such a state about my partner and another woman
I will trust him implicitly....
...no hang on....
I could never trust any man implicitly
I will keep my own counsel and have enough going on in my own life not to waste time obsessing about this....
Whilst at the same time loving him appropriately and giving him enough attention so he doesn't want to stray.... and if he does I will love him enough to forgive him....
but hang on, all this love and forgiveness... will he do it for me?
or will he waltz off with my home, my child, my savings....
I will be hurt
Best not to go there at all
Best to just have an arm's length lover
...And won't "having enough going on in my own life" and "giving him enough attention" be mutually exclusive?

It seems in love there is no compromise. As I seem to recall the archbishop of Canterbury saying a couple of decades ago (before I got married).

If we love on a limited liability basis, we limit our ability to love at all

So I feel that all this self protection and boundary setting will ultimately be futile. If you love you need to do so fully. It is not inconsistent with having a really healthy self esteem however. In which you know you can survive whatever happens and you only rely fully on one person - yourself. It's a tough call.

I would be scared of anyone who was attracted to me right now

2010-05-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

Photo credit: virginmedia.com

This is a quote from Et tu Husband which has become bed-time reading for me lately.

Yes. Until we fix ourselves we can go on attracting the same type of garbage.

Lately I have been feeling totally fine without a man in my life for the first time. Thought it might be the beginnings of menopause! (I'm only 44 though and no other symptoms as of yet) ... it'd be a shame.

...or more a sort of way of protecting myself from predatory men who see me as a weak animal ready for attack.

Something like when I tore my ligament and all my muscles went on strike to protect the knee. This is something I have to go through to know what I want.

And Ex 23 is definitately a preditor if not an SA. However much I may believe that I love him. A healthy choice about this is pending.

Cosy Suburbia

2010-05-19T02:59:00.001-07:00

Photo credit: dunnepropertymanagement.co.ie

I walk through a leafy suburb peering through the windows of those (ostensibly) well ordered homes, and realise I am yearning for the some sort of middle-class existence that I always thought I would have, and cannot accept that I do not and will not. But I came close, yet only when in the clutches of a manipulative, sociopathic sex addict. Sigh choices, choices...

A recurring theme

2010-05-13T03:34:00.000-07:00

Just reading back the last four posts, it seems I am on a theme. Perhaps it's no wonder nobody has commented because if they did they would have to say "Get over yourself". Here I am bleating about the choices I made in life, blaming it on men and trying (without effect or resolution) to turn the personal into the political.

The facts are;
(1) I was not lucky, savvy or calculating enough to find myself a man who earned a living AND was nice to me and
(2) now I am afraid of facing the future, with possible declining health, and definite decline in my own attractiveness, and supporting my child, based solely on my own resources.

Mac-Feminism

2010-05-12T04:02:00.000-07:00

I apologise, I had breakfast at MacDonalds this morning. Nasty capitalist world dominating institution that it is. It does rather good Sausage and Egg Muffins. I sat down and got my laptop out, and whilst it was firing up, I looked around. The place was literally full of young, poor, single mothers - whiling away a few hours with their legions of pre-school children. I must be getting old but a thought popped into my head - "What is the world coming to?" or more specifically "Is this what feminism has acheived for us?"

I'm sure its not what the suffragettes and early feminists envisaged for us they were trying to release us from domestic slavery, to give us choices. Instead we have the right to stay home with our kids on the breadline. With the freedom to work nights pole dancing and get a boob-job.

But its not the young middle class girls who find themselves in this predicament, it is the young working class girls. There is no shame in being a single mother now, and women are equal to men. They can go out, get drunk, have anonymous sex...

The young middle class girls I assume supported by Mum and Dad as ever have a termination or two, get through uni, live with their boyfriend for 5-10 years and if they're lucky he marries them. Then they can have a couple of kids and she has a get out clause via the current legal system to be supported by him until the children grow up. Lucky?? alternatively he could realise just as her ovaries are packing up that he doesn't want marriage and kids, at least not with her, and leave her possibly unfulfilled but probably with career in tact.

What honestly is the incentive for men to get married and/or have kids? They can have a lover, a fellow wage slave, home comforts, they can say they're not ready for kids or commitment, they can go on like this for decades.

For women the picture is rather different. If you leave your run too late you may never be a mother, if you get pregnant young and single with an impoverished man and don't terminate the pregnancy you sentence yourself to a lifetime of hard-labour (single parenting) and scupper all your chances at education. So the minority, smart university educated women go Jane Austen style - and snare themselves someone who has career prospects and can support you in the style you would like to become accustomed to. Who could blame them? Cohabitation is all very well, the court will recognise de facto relationships but nothing is quite as concrete as a good old wedding certificate.

Being an educated, middle aged, single parent, I increasingly find myself sympathising with both young poor single parents and fathers in single income families.

Later: I had a couple more thoughts. For the younger poorer girls it is often a rational choice too. Have a baby and get out of home and be supported by the government if there is no dad around.

But here's the thing, many Western goverments have the following philosophy about children:

If the husband can't pay, then the dad should pay, if the dad can't pay then the step-dad should pay, if the step-dad can't pay then the government will pay.

How is this empowering to women? maybe in my case.... if none of the above can/will pay she can pay herself.

Mid Life Crisis

2010-05-06T03:05:00.000-07:00

No, its no use, that's what it is. I can't deny it anymore.

When I see those manicured SAHMs with their matching LL Bean kids pulling out of the drive of their holiday home in their top of the range 4WD I can't help asking...

what did they do to deserve that???

shag a banker is what...

or a lawyer,
or a doctor,
or a diplomat...

and more specifically have children with them so they are locked in financially to all eternity..

But in truth, that just sounds bitter. I have my self esteem. I didn't sweat over that science homework, university entrance, graduate school for nothing! No! I get to be an underpaid single parent member of the intelligensia living in a rented apartment. I am not materialistic! Where is all this claptrap coming from?

I think I am angry with myself for not playing my cards better. The choices you make at 21 have a significant impact on your lifestyle at 42 there's just no way of getting around that one. You might marry for love, take the moral high ground, save the whales, see the world, believe in the power of one whatever, but it won't get you a chef''s kitchen and holidays in Martinique.

And worse despite working hard all your life you might end up in poverty. I think perhaps my awesome childhood raised my expectations that if I worked hard a reasonable lifestyle would come my way, and relying on a man was just a weak and inappropriate way of going about it. I did expect that whatever man I ended up with would work as hard as me, and treat me with the same benevolence, honesty and integrity with which I treat them. Wrong again.

No feminism has not delivered. A colder more calculating way of getting your man and seeing your main chance even if you are highly qualified yourself is a better strategy, because basically men have not evolved. They will rarely enter into a genuinely equal partnership. They need to be teased, cajoled, pampered and played like this and have the bar set high for them. Otherwise they just behave in the lowest way they can get away with.

Calibrating my reactions

2010-03-24T04:32:00.000-07:00

When I consider someone has ripped me off, put me down, pushed me too far. This is a sign that I really have been taken beyond all reasonable limits. I know this because I often get remarks such as -"I don't know how you put up with it" "I never would've taken that from her" "Just say no to them" etc. And it's NOT because I have a thick skin, it is a combination of very low self esteem - ie I don't deserve to be treated any better, and being brought up in a culture of forgiveness, and turning the other cheek. In other words my offense-ometer is set too low. It makes me a nice person to be around, I make friends easily, I almost never take offense, however it also means I can be pushed around, abused and assumed to be gullible. And generally I internalise the results of this treatment.

It is also quite rare for me to really know what I want or have a strong opinion about anything. Again externally I am easy going, but on the rare occasions when I do - wanting to have a baby or own my own home or be near my family...I need to be able to stop at nothing to get it. It is totally unacceptable to let the things that are important to you pass you by because someone else has a stronger opinion.

In my new life, when someone oversteps the mark, I am going to look very carefully at my reaction. NO. It is NOT "OKAY" for you to leave me with all the work, put me down in front of my colleagues, subdue me and my dreams. I need to firmly and politely say NO.

Choosing to live alone

2010-02-12T05:39:00.000-08:00

Single occupier households. The largest growing group. To my younger self, and to an extent my current self this seems like an unhealthy trend. People are too selfish, damaged, frightened, antisocial, unlovable to share their home with another.

Yet this is the choice I am finally going to make.

And it has a lot (though not everything) to do with my ovaries. Up until 40 there was still a chance of starting a family with a man, now there is not. So unless a man brings me true delight, companionship, love and an acceptance of who I am and where I've been, there seems little reason to open my heart, home and bank balance to him.

I feel I have played my hand all wrong. My life has not been unhappy, and I look forward to the future. I imagine in my solo home I will surround myself with interesting friends, be involved in sport and other activities and live a happy and fulfilled life. However I do feel within me the stirrings of a post-feminist backlash. Whose little mocking voice says: "If you want to raise a family in a comfortable stress free environment, trade on your assets whilst you are young. Use your pretty face and narrow hips to snare the best prospect you can, snare him before he becomes a hardened bachelor, and put your enviable intelligence into supporting his career and raising your kids"

As I sat on the train on the way home I pondered my options. (1) Hook up with my ex (2) Go out there and find the devil I don't know (3) Have an FB

..and in all honesty option (3) is looking the most attractive. I don't want any more court battles. Both Neil and Simon are entirely impossible to live with and by extension probably so am I. And my little frying pan is undoubtedly surrounded by fire.

Emotions

2010-01-22T04:46:00.000-08:00

Some time ago I thought Plutchik's wheel of emotion [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_emotions] might provide some inspiration for my blog. Just to see if I had visited every emotion and to tell stories from the wheel. I am having some difficulty with my "packages" so today I have decided to address contempt which lies between boredom and annoyance and can escalate an emotion between rage and loathing. This is what I feel for Neil in a nutshell. Interesting to look at the opposite side of the wheel where opposite rage we find terror and opposite loathing we find admiration. The reason I feel such contempt is because during the course of our relationship he intimidated me with terror, I never felt this negative emotion toward Simon because he did not. I feel anger toward Neil for what he did to me, forcing me to submit and not respecting me. On the other hand when asked to recall what attracted me to him in the first place it was admiration. Not love, I now realise, but admiration for his accomplishments in life. Thus our relationship began on an uneven basis with him intimidating me, and me admiring him. So perhaps it is natural that as things came along to challenge our partnership, already feeling intimidated I gathered the strength not to submit, but as contempt took over, to actually leave.

Package #1

2010-01-11T04:07:00.001-08:00

I'm not sure if this was in the original bunch of packages, but there is a package that seems to include a bricks and mortar home and aspects of financial security. My parents were reminding me today about how they had to sell their house when my dad re-trained, and we all moved into a rented apartment. How much I craved a house. I used to draw pictures of 'A pritty house' with a front door AND a back door.

They felt guilty about having taken me away, and when they became slightly more prosperous started looking around for places in a much inflated market. One time apparently I fell so badly in love with one of the houses they looked at that I threw up when they decided they couldn't afford it.

Still later when a student I tried to create a homely environment, and fantasized about buying, yes owning my own home. I was put off by my parents who clearly thought I should find a man to do this with. So I married Simon, and imposed this dream on him. He finds property ownership a slightly dirty prospect, but it did not deter me from desperately trying to change his mind for about 10 years as the property prices crept up.

And then, after the divorce I took the short cut with Neil. A house and another baby. My dreams come true. Except they didn't.

This morning a (hippy-ish) thought occurred to me. Maybe the universe it trying to tell me something, I am not, and will never be a home owner. What should I look for as an alternative to this. What precisely is the lure. This is what I came up with so far:

(1) Some sort of dislike of having to pay rent and jump to the command of a landlord

(2) A feeling of security of "owning" or working toward owning a piece of realestate. I actually liked having mortgage that I could see going down each month due to my own dilligence and a beautiful house to live in.

(3) Stability of a place to truly call home.

Perhaps I could invest in something else, or a property I did not live in, and become a kept woman of some sort so I didn't have to worry about a landlord either. Be a housekeeper or gamekeeper or dogkeeper or something so my work was my home.

Loving the unlovable meets the love that dare not speak its name

2010-01-07T02:53:00.000-08:00

This has been going on for 2 years. It has never been a transactional sort of arrangement, but just this week. I receive a gift. An unmarked CD of songs that apparently remind him of me. How romantic. I find a time when I am all alone driving and relish the message that it brings. But wait. All the songs, it turns out one by one, are trans-global tales of Hapless females being done wrong by dirt bag philandering males. This isn't how I see myself or how I wish to be seen. It is, if I let myself think about it, somewhat demeaning. I am, if not crushed, strangely unsettled, unconsoled, and disappointed.

Then tears prick my eyes at the thought of just how compromised I have become, that I would yearn for human contact, appreciation, love, being fully willing to return it to someone who cannot do the same for me.

Yet to be given this, this offering.

He urges me to tap my feet to it, and not read too much into it. I guess there are people out there who don't really listen to the lyrics of songs.

I recall a time almost half a life ago, when a fellow at work developed an admiration for me. He was a good looking young chap, and he too had a girlfriend and he too expressed his pent-up, unexpressable emotions by sending me a tape of songs. Loving those who cannot love me back has been a theme of my life. Played out in return, in these instances, by a love that dare not speak its name.

Post (traumatic) Script

2010-01-01T13:50:00.000-08:00

I left, I did it. I put all my stuff into storage^ and I fled the country. The sleepless nights I was having over the unbearable weight of leaving my beloved home evaporated, and suddenly I could live with it. Although my life savings are still tied up there.

I am living with my parents on the other side of the world, part working, part recouperating I believe, I feel like Anne Frank scribbling in an attic room.

Simon has let me bring Connor for a protracted stay. However Simon is back in the Psych clinic having split from his partner of 3 years (coincidentally)

I am still fantasizing about true love with my ex of 23 years. He feeds it but has no intention of leaving his wife. And anyway he is in another country, further away now. I'm sorry about this one, but I have to be honest, since this blog is becoming my online diary.

By and large I have disengaged from my life to survive. I don't dare take a good hard look inside my mind, because when I do this is what I see....

Little tightly wrapped packages, they're not labelled, but I know what's in them.

See! this one is packed full of reflections on what happened with Neil and what that has done to me ... all my deepest darkest fears, that he manipulated me, was never faithful to me, converted me to his wrong way of thinking, abused me, abused my child, and is now trying to sabotage our financial future.

Here, this one contains the damage I may have done to Connor through my divorce, through working too many hours, through being stressed, indulgent, inconsistent...

Still another contains the ghost of Simon and our 16 year marriage. Will he try to get back with me? control me? Am I responsible for his illness? for him? What about all those years? were they happy, how do I account for them?

Then there's Ex23. This is possibly the only one I can unwrap with any clarity. It probably needs to end, but I am not ready to end it. I like it. He makes me happy. I am deluded.

Then there's one containing THE FUTURE. By the end of this decade I'll be in Menopause. With a teenager.

Ooh look, this little one is my health. Gone in one year from master's athlete, to hopeless cripple who can't run across the road. Terribly bereaved by this loss of capacity. Getting flabbier, floppier, more unfit.

Yet on the surface I am a survivor, a funny, sanguine, magnanimous, good daughter, attending to her career, bravely accepting single mother hood, forging ahead.

^I think my life is in storage

Taking Flight

2009-11-10T18:17:00.000-08:00

I won't bore you with the legal wrangles, but it seems I am in a corner where I have to give up home (the beloved first home I ever owned) to my ex, and sell it at a loss, since the cost of recouping my investment is greater than the investment itself.

It occurs to me that this is the first time in my life I have voluntarily given up something I love. I mean I, as and adult, have personally taken this decision to give it away.

I searched for analogies of where this happens to people

A teenage mother giving up her baby in the 1960s
A woman having her breasts removed because she is at risk of breast cancer though she does not already have it
prosperous Jews, Palestinians, Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Hootus and Tutsis, who fled their homes and businesses
Young people in love who are separated when their parents move cities
A couple deciding to abort a much wanted but fatally flawed unborn baby

These are all more severe than my situation, but the thing they have in common is that the alternative is worse. Human nature being what it is though, in about half the cases it is because of aggression, intolerance, or disrespect that the alternative is worse.

In my case the alternative is to have a protracted battle with an abusive, disrespectful, manipulative ex partner.

An ironic poem that comforts me

2009-11-06T21:11:00.000-08:00

One Art
By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Hoist with my own petard

2009-11-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

Following on from my woman's work post. An irony. The departure of my SA "partner", who I'm rapidly realising was everything but, has left a power vacuum into which comes simon...

He calls me in the morning to micro-manage me, and remind me of the things I have not done or more particularly paid for for our son and of late he has begun what appears to be a campaign to get full custody. All this timed perfectly for when I'm in the middle of a property settlement, moving house and major surgery.

So now I am cast in the role of absentee father, because I work and he does not, because I have to travel for my work, and have no "partner" to look after Connor. It now appears he wants Connor to live with him, and me to pay. All this from someone who was too mentally ill to even have the boy for a weekend for the first six months of this year, someone who didn't want fathehood in the first place.

Life truly has turned into a bad joke.

Motherhood is the thing I cherish more than anything in the world. I fought for it. I am not a man, and whilst I strive, my woman-like outlook and concerns do not allow me to thrive in a man's world. I receive prejudice at that side too.

If I was a man I would climb the corporate ladder treading on everyone in my path to get what I wanted. Wash my hands of all this, and go out and score me a younger woman. But that option is not open to me either.

A rock and a hard place.

Women's work

2009-09-22T17:30:00.001-07:00

"I've never yet met a man who could look after me, I don't need a husband. What I need is a wife" (Joan Collins)

Neil had a habit of belittling the work of stay at home moms (SAHMs). His argument was quite logical, that their work simply did not have the value that society assigns to it. Take for example a wealthy barrister. If his wife dies he can easily pay for all the services she provides, childcare ($100 a day - pah), a cleaner, a chef, a prostitute.. this doesn't even take up a quarter of his salary. So how when they divorce does she get half his assets? it is simply out of proportion.

My new found strength and independence has lead me to believe that I can go it alone as a single working mother - I only have one child! 2 of us, that's half a regular family right? Plenty of men on my salary support a stay at home wife and two kids.

So, I now get to do "the practical" of what Neil was describing, and it is very difficult. Because dear friends if I had a wife at home she would be doing so much more than cleaner, childcare, chef, hooker. I could rely on her to pick the kids up if I worked late, she would give me emotional support and feedback on my adult concerns, she would take care of all those niggly little jobs - taking the car for service, liasing with the kids teachers, dentist appointments, booking holidays... Economy of scale! Danah! suddenly 4 can live for the price of 2.

Then there's the house. Somewhere in the recent past I accepted that I live here in some sense courtesy of Neil. The house is an artifact of our relationship. But I have actually put more money onto the mortgage than him. Now the relationship is over, much as it hurts me I have to give up the house.

Not Neil, No sir-eee!! He believes the house is his. Because he is the man of the house. He enjoyed that joke about the global financial crisis which went "this is even worse that divorce - I lost half my assets and I still have my wife". So he thinks he can just pay me off with a token sum and I'll be out of his hair. He actually believes that, courtesy of living with me for 3 years, this asset is his birthright.

Clearly he lives in a man's world with mans concerns where women's work is valueless and all women are out to fleece men regardless of their own (the women's) earning capacity and financial standing. Because they give birth they can never truly perform in a man's world and as such are by definition eternally beholden to their men folk, and further they should be grateful for this and not get antsy in any way up to and including divorce.

So many reasons

2009-09-04T18:47:00.000-07:00

I would be the first to admit that I am in a strange place at the moment. Finally accepting that I can't make it work with my SA partner, after months (years) of giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking things are never perfect, doubting myself. So I feel quite strong in a way, and one worrisome dimension of this new found strength, is is a strong, and reasoned urge never to let a man live with me again.

I thought of taking my dad's advice and meeting a "retired professor" yet suddenly it becomes totally unappealing because this person (or their family) will think I am somehow after their assets. I never ever want to be beholden to anyone, nor did I ever. I am perfectly capable of supporting myself and my child. The level of false accusation surrounding finances in my current breaking down relationship makes me sick, I wish I had never combined my life financially with him.

I worry that these years with a promiscuous SA have left me with undiganosed STIs which might rear their ugly heads at any time. I feel as though I am a time bomb. No decent new man deserves that.

I acknowledge I am very bad at nurture. Having worked for 20 years and toughed out this single parent thing. I don't want some hyperchondriac old man to look after.

I don't want to have kids now, and soon the chance of that will be finished. So I don't need a sperm donor.

I have lost faith that any man will effectively contribute to the domestic economy (cleaning up after himself) and feel I am on the back foot asking for this with a child around making mess. No I will deal with that too thank you very much.

Perhaps when the storm clears there will be room for a lover. That's all.

A Villanelle

2009-08-26T21:52:00.000-07:00

Did my fifth decade forge in me
a fiery ship of burnished steel?
A long withheld capacity
to love you and to let you be
the helmsman of my wheel?
Did my fifth decade forge in me
a passion from across the sea
So strong, and desperate and real?
A long withheld capacity
to be myself and truly see
the way you make me feel?
Did my fifth decade forge in me
A softness borne of misery
of wounds that never really heal
A long withheld capacity
to give you all that I can be
Since you laid down the keel
Did my fifth decade forge in me
A long withheld capacity

It's better to have lived and lost....

2009-08-25T05:41:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I get materialistic or wistful for the things I don't or can't have, I bury my envy with a mantra that goes something like this.

So you'll never go to Hawaii again? so what, at least you've BEEN to Hawaii...

You'll never be married again? at least you WERE married once.

You've known love... You've known what its like to have a loving husband...

You can't have any more kids? oh well at least you've been part of a big happy family....

You'll never have a house on the river? you were lucky enough to grow up near your grandparents who lived on a river.

Your career is stagnating? Oh well, at least you could once claim career aspirations. It was good for a moment there.

I worry that I won't have enough to retire on. Then I look at what retirement means to the current generation of baby boomers. Endless cruises, seafood buffets, holidays in Asia, beautiful perfect home. Its all great but how much does someone need? wouldn't all this comfort pall after a while?

I guess the philosophical point in here is that life is short, and full of experiences, but we don't need to gorge on those experiences to be happy, we just need to have them. Dive on the barrier reef once, see the Taj Mahal, Fall in love, have a baby, get published. It may never come back again, but enjoy it whilst you can.

Protect, Provide, Defend?

2009-08-17T18:17:00.000-07:00

These are apparently the roles of a man. And I have been REJECTING them, ALL MY LIFE. Since I drank at the fountain of feminist enlightenment with my Grandmother. NEVER DEPEND ON A MAN, GET YOURSELF A CAREER, BE SELF-SUFFICIENT.

It would be an insult to expect someone to provide for me. Taxpayers have invested good money in my education, and further I do not want to be beholden to a man. When I first heard the expression "Marriage is prostitution" (at the tender age of about 30) I had no idea what it could possibly mean. I have been married once, but I have never expected a man to PROVIDE for me in return for services in the bedroom and kitchen. HORROR.

As for protection. I am not weak, I do not need protecting.

During my marriage, this worked quite well. In Simon, I had not sought out a provider, he was ineffective at work, but still had the manly attributes of strong opinions and apsirations. We both worked, we both cooked, we both cleaned. Until the baby came along. Then Simon lost his mind, and, just as I had never expected to be protected or nurtured, I found myself quite incapable of nurture.

But, it seems the joke is on me. Because many men want to fulfil the protector and provider role and many women of my generation are happy to nurture them in return, and, in maybe half the cases, where they are able to respect one another, there is not even a sniff of prostitution in the process.

I could've forgotten about getting an education, focussed my energies of attracting a provider and lined my little nest. I have to say this would've been much easier than the single parent role where I try to be Mummy and Daddy... huffing about trying to get ahead at work by day, endlessly wiping and cleaning by night...

But stay, what of that other 50% those unhappily married for whom the deal did not work out. They have no skills they are trapped by a unfaithful, disrespectful, user and abuser.

Perhaps in my attempt to avoid this, I also passed up the opportunity to allow a good man to protect and provide for me.

For a little moment here I had the worst of both worlds. I was able to go out and earn a living in a respected professional role, whilst having to opportunity to share my home with someone who expected me to be a chef in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom, an who would physically slap me down If I tried to speak up for myself or negotiate in the domestic economy. Someone who offered me a form of protection and provision I never asked for - "Oh you have magnificent breasts! What's for dinner?" The protection and provision were so hard to discern they were almost theoretical, and yet he traded on them. You clean up after me, because I work FOR YOU.

I have, in my time, been guilty of feeling sorry for my single friends because they could not snare a man. Oh the lonely life of a spinster, to be pitied. And yet that joke is on me too, because had I not entered into this whole marriage/partnership enterprise I would be in no worse a position. Perhaps better even. No unemployable husband living off me, no testosterone charged zealot cheating on me, hitting me, spending my money of flat screen TVs. I would've been able to direct my hard earned dollars to investments that worked for me. If I had not treasured old fashioned notions marriage and family I could even have become a parent.

But now I picture a new stronger me. My efforts will no longer be focussed on finding a partner to share my life, but to creating a better single life for myself. The best it can be.

And what of my feminist grandmother? She died last year, protected and provided for her whole life by a man who loved and respected her. Perhaps she felt dis-empowered, so she had these dreams for me, dreams of freedom, autonomy, personal wealth and its rewards, respect from society.... I think I know where she was coming from.

Yet somehow I think perhaps like many of my generation I am caught in that narrow alley between feminism and post-feminism where there are three options;

throw caution to the wind and love freely hoping to be given the freedom to pursue your dreams,
trust only yourself and remain single, or
become a case study in mismanagement of the feminist ideal as have I.

It was always there

2009-08-02T18:01:00.001-07:00

I have been squeamish about including the term sex addiction on my blog. I preferred to think of what happened as a little slip. A one-off infidelity. Maybe I thought Neil's searches for it would bring up my blog. But now our relationship is officially over. I venture to suggest that his sex addiction never went away. Nor was it ever really a problem for him. It is a lifestyle. A real woman with hangups, domestic concerns, worries, hormones, demands is actually something he doesn't want to deal with.

I believe and acknowledge that our relationship is over, and yet for some reason I am driven to have one last snoop. And as always, it bears fruit. Sexually explicit SMS from someone we both know, which leaves me in no doubt that they are or have been intimate.

Its not as though it is the first time this has happened. Let me remind you...

1. The original No Smoke Without Fire in which I surmise that regarding an earlier row over a text message, his infidelity was not in fact in my imagination. Too bad I've had several rounds of infertility treatment and bought a house with him in the interim.

2. There was the STI scare (and he currently has another) although these things can lie dormant and don't really signify infidelity in any real sense. Disturbing for a good convent girl who knew for a fact she had not been with anyone else.

3. The second No Smoke Without Fire in which he accidentally stays logged into his email and I find quite a few leads..

"Nah" I think, "I'm imagining it. They are probably just good friends". One at least turned out to be a male colleague of his!! Lesley!! (and anyway I'm no saint myself by this time)

4. The unexplainable receipts

5. The German controversy

... and finally this. Finally there is very little doubt that he has never been faithful to me (if that matters)

I have repeatedly given him the benefit of the doubt, wondering if I am reading too much into this? Is it all in my head? Are they just good friends?

I am not particularly hurt by this, but it does give me the impetus to actually move on and start a separate life. I love my home, and I have no doubt this will be damaging to Connor, but I can't live my life as the room mate/ house keeper/ admin assistant and Connor won't look back when he's 40 and say "Gee mum, thank you for staying with someone who you didn't love, and who continually cheated on you to give me a stable home"

It "ended"

2009-07-29T22:21:00.000-07:00

And the inverted commas are entirely intentional. Finally I spoke up. I told Neil that this relationship is not meeting my needs, sexually, emotionally or practically. ...and my word did he have a response for me! A whole lot of things are wrong with me. For the record, let me get them down.

(1) If I want sex I should learn how to do it! Foreplay, I need to do foreplay I need to warm him up... btw those FBs may not have been marriage material, but they knew how to **
(2) I always have to be right, and I let that get in the way of everything including (ouch) my relationship with my child
(3) I have treated him badly (not cruelly, or unkindly, but badly) this stems from the fact that I just do not know how to look after a man.

He has been unhappy for a LONG time.

For his part he has been working like a dog. Maybe not around the home, but at his job which in his accounting ledger counts as work he is doing for me. When he completes a report at work or closes a deal at work, it is for me. This surprised me and brought me to thinking

here might be another difference between men and women

When I complete a report or close a deal at work (we are at the same level in our careers), I know am doing it for me and my career . The money that comes in as a result is a side-effect. I would never dream of saying it was for him or shirking my household chores in lieu of it.

Oh faithful readers, I expect you are trying to imagine what sort of a woman I am? or even empathizing with poor Neil stuck with this sexually overeager, self-righteous, neglectful, unappreciative woman.

Whilst I will try to my lesson, if you met me you would not recognize that woman. I am a hard working, loyal, reliable, funny and lovable friend.

So we agreed to be flatmates, until we are both living in the same country a year from now, and then think about selling the house. Which to be honest was my major stumbling block.

But it still isn't wrapped up

I still cook and clear the dishes after every meal. I pay the bills, kill the weeds, and do what is my job entirely without support - look after my son - and somehow find time for a full time job. he comes and goes as he pleases, and now does not have to tell me what he is doing. And nothing has changed except we acknowledge we don't love each other and sleep in separate rooms. What have I gained?

The purpose of marriage

2009-06-01T06:26:00.000-07:00

Older people these days I have heard are hooking up online, and dating. But these baby boomers from the swinging sixties and seventies are cautious in one regard. They (particularly the women) are not keen to move in together. They want the fun, dates, pampering, sex but they don't want to be cleaner, nursemaid, housekeeper. And they don't want to hand over their childrens' inheritance in the form of the family home. I can completely understand this.

Perhaps you would do all those wifely things for a person you had spent your life with and raised kids with, but not for the current squeeze.

I think I have just crossed this border. Up until 40ish I still embraced the romantic dream of "the one". We all make mistakes, there is still time to try again, settle down with a new person and have a family... and then there isn't. I made this move just a tad too late.

Now I think that raising kids together is not an option. Although he may not agree, Neil is not "raising" Connor with me. We are like the single mum and the bachelor. I'm sorry, but he does not deserve the pay-off of being looked after in his old age. The prospect of an old needy, grumpy man in my home and my bed is terrifying.

Some clarity out of this

2009-05-31T22:29:00.000-07:00

My partner cheated, and I reacted by closing down. I thought I had forgiven initially, but what it turned into was "OK I will love you less and you can't hurt me" and finally "I now don't give a shit about you". Ultimately I told him I did not feel the same, and he could no longer hurt me.

Basically under the tutelage of COSA I reasoned that I could not control who he slept with and when, so I basically may as well not worry about it. Assume it happened, and care less about it.

And this is what he heard..

"I want an open relationship" Or more particularly..."You can sleep with who you like."

Now this most certainly is not meeting my needs. You get to sleep with who you like, and I get the manage the property?

No!!!!!!

What did I just give away? The last vestige of belief in a loving, respectful, trusting cohabitation between a man and a woman. He may think he can sleep around and still "love" me. No matter how I reason it, I can't see that as love. If I was doing that, I would not be loving my partner.

I understand a lot of men can still love their partners and sleep with others.

However I think the point I am trying to make is that, regardless of what he is doing - he may be doing nothing at all now. There has been a perceptible shift in my thinking that is really the point of no return. Out of self preservation, I no longer love him. And that the relationship has become asexual is inconsequential. I doubt our relationship could now be fixed even with a good dose of healthy marital relations.

A very different end

2009-05-31T22:11:00.001-07:00

I was with my ex-husband for 16 years, and for a lot of that time I was very unhappy. Because though I didn't realise it, I was being controlled. I wanted a home and a family. I felt he had to eventually come round to my way of thinking, but he never did. I cried on the way to work, I was frustrated. I felt trapped, but had a dogged sense of duty to this relationship. I looked with envy at couples outside. I thought the fundamentals were good. Even though I was impotent in every meaningful decision in our lives, and I was in the hands of an irrational dictator.

Maybe the actual truth was that I wanted a family for most of those 16 years, and it was the sunk cost type of decision making strategy. I had hung in there thus far, if I left now, at 37 I felt I would never meet someone else and be able to have kids.

So I got my kid. He, having lost control of me, and the family situation, had a breakdown, and we split up.

I was so relieved.

Whilst I know I do not want to be here in this relationship, it is different. A generaliszed discomfort and mistrust, profound uncertainty about the future, and a sensation of being a square peg in a round hole. I can keep on sanding myself away. I'm not distraught, but I am afraid of the consequences of "just leaving" in that I have no idea if he will react violently.

But perhaps once again there is an ulterior motive. What I am just as afraid of is that to get out of this, I have to lose my home. The thing I craved for so long.

Breaking up (is hard to do-o)

2009-05-17T22:34:00.000-07:00

Its hard for a whole new reason that I have just realised. When I try to break up with Neil in the normal way it simply "fails to compute" for him.

(1) How could someone not want to be with this paragon of manly perfection which leads to
(2) I must be mad

That's it in a nutshell. I have known for sometime that I absolutely do not want to be here. Intellectually, spiritually, emotionally - not to mention the dreaded morally. If I were to try to workshop telling him... (some of this has actually happened some has not -yet)

Fiona: Its not you, its me. I have been unable to accept what happened between us.
Neil: Well get over yourself. It happens in all relationships. What did your mother say?
Fiona: She said it happens
Neil: Well your mother is right as usual.

Fiona: You are not meeting my needs sexually
Neil: Well accusing me like that is very "Sexy" isn't it. The more you talk about it the less likely it is to happen.

Fiona: You are not meeting my needs to be part of a family
Neil: Well you gave that away when you got divorced. I can't be Connor's dad you know.
Fiona: Why can't we eat as a family? go to bed around the same time, get up together?
Neil: Sorry that's just the way I am. You can't change the way I eat and sleep.

Fiona: I need practical support help around the house
Neil: You just won't be happy until I'm doing it all will you?

I'm realising I will never "wrap it up" by nagging, or even improve it. Basically to him, this form of communication is just me having a head-rush. I need to be humored, firmly put back in my place (physically intimidated if necessary) because I am clearly out of order. Then life will carry on as normal.

So the upshot of it is. When the decision has been made, when I am bold enough. I have to just go. Not telling, showing. Which is apparently what his last fiance did, and he simply could not understand it. For years.

What I've learned

2009-05-17T20:37:00.000-07:00

Its been four years since my marriage ended and somewhat less since I was introduced to the murky world of infidelity. At 40, I was a babe in the wood, truly. I believed that many, if not the majority of married/de facto couples had meaningful, mutually respectful relationships and regular satisfying sex. I knew that couples argued, and at times loathed each other because I was married for 16 years. In my marriage I was somewhat controlled, and my needs (for a home, a family) were disregarded in favour of his "higher" needs, but we could always trust each other.

Neil has introduced me to a whole new world, in which people are not faithful, 1 in 4 babies is born to a man who is not the partner of the woman concerned. Women and Girls who dress in a certain way literally ask for sex (as in FMBs - he believes they are in fact code). Women and Girls who ask men back to their home/hotel after a party want sex. And if, as a man you merely progress towards sex, without asking permission, 9 out of 10 girls will not stop you. Further 80% of the women are chasing 20% of the men. We are mobile breeding machines, they are alpha males, it is a jungle out there. As I have often said in this blog, I reluctantly accept this. How could I be so naive?

However, it does not appeal to my experience. As a married woman I went to literally dozens of parties/receptions/conferences dressed howsoever I wished, where people came back to rooms and that was not the agenda at all. We would drink, flirt, talk then go home. If the above were true, it is a wonder I had not been either victim or assailant in seduction/inveiglement/lure or rape on numerous occasions.

I would proffer that I gave off "Married vibes" and I was steadfastly committed to my marriage vows. I would also proffer the crowd in which I circulated, hard working, professional, men and women of integrity. But not once was I propositioned. I am only human (as we shall see) and may not have been so strong under duress.

So I learn the hard way. About a year into our relationship I learn that Neil is having sex with someone else. I am (in my naive way) shocked, nauseated, horrified, stateless, confused and.... changed.

I struggle not to blame anyone else for what happened next. This erstwhile choir girl, married woman, pillar of society quietly embraced revenge. If you can do it so can I. Not actively, not rushing out there, but alive in that world I had previously doubted existed. And in the fullness of time opportunity came my way.

For maybe a decade before he met me, Neil had no formal relationship, he had a roster of "FBs" who satisfied his needs, and they his. There were no strings, although they did sometimes show troublesome signs of wanting to commit, in which case they were kindly but firmly reminded of the terms of the relationship and if they didn't want it they could go.

So what we have is 4 or 5 women actively trying to "catch him" whilst outwardly declaring they were fine with friends with benefits status. Their role very much akin to that of the other woman (having now been one myself). They would always be dressed well, coiffed, plucked, perfumed, never nag, badger, or complain.

I have learned that living with someone who has been this kind of a "bachelor" (read SA) makes for a very hard act to follow.

I have learned that the reason I did not cheat on my husband was less iron will and more lack of opportunity/motivation.

I have learned to be careful what you wish for

Is this post feminism? One thing that would've kept me on track in my younger days is the sisterhood. How could I do that to another woman (assuming I knew about her)? Are we all just back to snaring a man by fair means or foul? Why am I jealous of my lover's wife who, at quite a mature age managed to marry him, have two kids and give up work for the forseeable future?

How could I undervalue my career so? as I lurch from near disaster, to headlice outbreak, to forgotten lunch, lost hat, board meeting, presentation, bikini wax, sales pitch in the blurry life of a near-single parent? I should remember, she gave up her freedom, her identity and her so-called husband is playing away.

One of the things Neil trotted out when he reached exasperation with my high moral stance was
"There's no law against it"

Well negotiating your way through it without rules may be an intellectual and personal challenge but it does not favour women.

Forgive myself - Understandable?

2009-05-09T04:17:00.001-07:00

I wanted a baby, but I realised in the nick of time that I didn't want a baby with him. Or rather, serendipidously it turned out I couldn't have a baby with him in the nick of time.

It is unfair to him because all this was at the core of a shared dream.

I'm not sure how I could've been blind to this. I felt as though I was in love with him

Ein schlechtes Gewissen braucht keinen Kläger

2009-03-22T19:31:00.000-07:00

As you may know, my partner of three years is away overseas. And the state of our relationship means that this is little more than a relief. I have half-heartedly attempted to break up with him, and I am still undecided as to whether to follow him overseas, as my folks are over there, but my son's father is over here.

As the COSA philosophy goes on snooping, basically evidence does eventually fall into your lap. So here's the latest. Once again like my "no smoke without fire" it could be my imagination.

First, Neil's widowed father is planning to visit him overseas and during the visit Neil has a business trip to Germany. His father suddenly cancelled because he didn't feel able to organise/afford accomodation or be left on his own whilst Neil went to Germany. If my mother was visiting me on her own, I would have a whale of a time taking her along as my consort to conference dinners and having her explore the town during the day. I have been wondering why this is such a problem...

Second, some time ago a "little bird" told me Neil was rumoured to be sleeping with a colleague who has, incidentally, gone back to Germany.

Third, each day Neil and I send each other SMSs. It is always the same boring "Good morning, darling x x " so I decided to be a bit playful and wrote one in German today. Not consciously thinking about it, just wanting to have some fun with him "Guten Abend Mine Liebling" probably shocking German, then I wrote another... and finally I got one back "W.T.F." (which I'm sure you can translate)

Either he really doesn't understand any German at all (you'd've thought doing business in Germany he might've whipped out a phrasebook once in a while) perhaps he thinks I am making a fool of him, or trying to show off how clever I am...or he was reading something more into my SMS.

Suddenly a curious suggestion pops into my head. He is off to Germany for a tryst with the ex-colleague. That's why dad can't come, and that's why he is angry at my use of German he thinks I am backhandedly accusing him

For a translation of the Title visit "The English German Dictionary"

Loud and Clear

2009-01-07T18:10:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, you've lost patience with me. You all voted on my future. I am telling you loud and clear I want to leave, yet nothing happens. This is how it is sometimes I think. Need the right impetus. In the meantime I seem to be conducting my life in two parallel streams.

(1) Please show me a way to get out of this. Just one little exit and I'll be gone
(2) Planning my life in the long term getting the house set up creating a future for my boy

I can't be the first, but I think I would be happier and more able to focus if I was true to myself.

I hear you Elinor

2009-01-05T18:52:00.000-08:00

"I have known all of love's pain and none of its reward"

Elinor Dashwood: Sense and Sensibility

I can't find this exact quote anywhere, but I swear I heard it in the 1981 BBC mini series.

This is how I feel about my current relationship. He gives me so little apart from a half share in a roof over my head, and some sort of weird brother-like affection. We no longer have sex, because he is not interested.

It is partially my own doing. I broke off the engagement, around the time we discovered we couldn't have children. Because 2 years after his sudden proposal of marriage, I still could not trust him or understand either his sex addiction or his supposed recovery from it. And after several rounds of IVF I realised I did want another child, but not with him.

And now I think to ask myself the question "why did he admit to sex addiction? why didn't he just admit to a little meaningless sex?" He is quite practised at manipulation and lying why would he have been so candid with me? A little slip-up would've been so much easier for me to accept. In fact that's pretty much how I have dealt with it - imagine it was just the end of his "philandering ways"

So here's the timeline

*Trying to get pregnant
*Shock email from ex-girlfriend describing numerous trysts
*Confession from Neil of sex addiction
*Proposal of marriage
*Uneasy acceptance by me
*More trying to get pregnant
*Give up trying to get pregnant
*Try to end relationship admitting I have not properly forgiven him and the only way I can cope is to disengage.
*I actually want him to go off and find someone else to have babies with
*Sex life ends

From his point of view maybe he was only having sex with me to get pregnant, or maybe he was so hurt by me putting the brakes on our marriage plans, or perhaps, he is just getting sex elsewhere. It isn't such a stretch is it? on current evidence.

In exploring "Husband not interested in sex" the answer by barbarafl about half the way down struck a chord. It starts

Wow Ladies,
I feel compelled to respond. I have been in this situation for 18 years. It is only the last year that I truly discovered the real problem. My husband is a sex addict. After lots of research, and therapy, he is in recovery. A long hard road for both of us. There is many levels of sex addiction. Some only use masturbation and porn and some use prostitutes, affairs, etc. There is something also known as sexual anorexia. Where the sex addict will masturbate but avoid intimacy with you.

I can't discuss it with him. In fact if I do he gets angry or facetious saying things like "you nagging me about it is so sexy"

But he still occasionally says he love me, or that I am his love. I think perhaps he needs a mother. His was depressed angry and unavailable to him. Now it seems he is trying to find this lost comfort through me. Here is what would really work: If I were to run the house like clockwork. Quietly and efficiently moving around him, and never making demands on him. Let him lie in, clear away his mess without ever complaining, never ask where he's been or why, defer to him on every decision and opinion... He will love me totally and will reward me with hugs, and adoration, but never sex.

Really folks what's in it for me? A half roof over my head (I work too remember) and stability for Connor. But Connor is not going to come back to me in 20 years time and say, "thanks so much mum for putting your life on hold and living with that man so that I could grow up in a misogynistic, self centred, dysfunctional - yet stable household"

Is he?

I'm a lizard

2008-12-18T03:28:00.000-08:00

I guess this happens to everyone to an extent, but maybe I am worse affected since I have moved countries 3 times since I was 25 and I got divorced. Here is my problem.. I keep leaving large chunks of my life behind. Usually quickly and under traumatic circumstances. Like a lizard losing its tail. For all I know they keep on twitching after I leave them, like the those perfectly nice circles of friends, those groaning bookshelves, a couple of decades shared with my husband. Those severed parts can twitch all they like. Me I just walk away.

Photo credit: www.naturephoto-cz.com

But look, my beautiful tail, it grew back, but not like before. Something is lost, something is changed.

I've been away

2008-12-17T04:37:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry, I've been away. I'm not gone. Actually I got a little sporting injury and now I have some metal in my leg. Time consuming. But whilst resting up I have had time to set my blogging agenda (always keeps me on case) and do a lot of reading. So here is what's coming up in the next month:

(1) I'm a lizard
(2) Celibacy and Anorexia
(3) The world according to my ovaries

I watched a lot of Jane Austen and developed a special affection for Elinor Dashwood. She will appear in (2). But how could I be disappointed to discover I am actually Elizabeth Bennett?

You Scored as Elizabeth Bennet

As one of Austen's most beloved characters, Elizabeth Bennet represents what most women would like to become: strong, independent, and loyal. Of course, she has her faults including a stubborn will of iron and a clinging to first impressions. Overall, Lizzie is bright and lovable...something to admire and aspire to.

...and read a most disturbing book, disturbing because I found myself in it. Myself of the last post in fact.

Things that kept me awake last night

2008-11-09T20:34:00.000-08:00

I have come to the conclusion that I am a weak person. I didn't used to be - as I have explored on this blog before. My parents sent me out into the world with a work ethic, a moral code and an inner happiness that I rode along on more or less comfortably until I was 40.

Now I question everything.

Which may be a good thing.

My new partner blew away my concept of marriage. I weakly accept (in the face of his evidence) that most marriages are not monogamous - despite the fact that I was in one myself for 16 years, and my parents set a sterling example for 40 years.

So I reset my moral compass. Downward. In disappointment, in disillusionment, to my own detriment.

I wasn't the kind of kid to be drawn into the wrong crowd. I wasn't easily swayed. I didn't smoke behind the bike sheds...

What I did do was accept my parents' moral code lock stock and barrel. Which Neil would call a Mc Moral Code. I didn't question it, and it worked well for me. Until I met him. This to him is abhorent. As thinking adults we should make our own decisions about everything in life - right and wrong, politics, who we sleep with, the death penalty, what we eat....

And here's just one funny thing about him..he thinks nothing of having unprotected sex with >100 women, but he would never eat an out of date yoghurt.

Is it good for parents to hammer a moral code (e.g christianity) home to a child? How can I find an alternative acceptable approach for my son?

Vote on my future now

2008-10-05T18:51:00.001-07:00

I have to make a decision it seems, which is always hard for me. Of course my natural instinct is "No change" accept the status quo. In this case I am not even sure what the decision is. However I press on...

My partner, Neil, has accepted a job overseas, and my child's father is in the same country as me. I know my partner will eventually come back. In the short term I need to decide whether to go with him. The cost is high. There will be a court battle, I will risk losing my job. If we loved each other wholeheartedly this would be a no brainer - I would go and particularly if we had a child together (which had always been the plan). But with my survival mantra - "My self, my child, my health, my work" in mind I can't find it in my heart to risk my job and my child's happiness in exchange for a half-love.

There is another dimension to this. The country in which he is working is my home country. Near to my folks, and my child's grandparents. The last sentence there seems redundant. Perhaps after all this is not going to be too much of a risk to my child - he will be back with his Dad in a year or two and in the meantime he has his extended family. Dad could visit, if he could afford it. Or move even. He has the passport. If I had more self esteem, perhaps I would care less about holding onto this particular job.

But now we come to the nub of the issue. All this obfuscates one fact. If I turn to my only working decision making tool, my gut*, I get the following answer. DO NOT GO. DO NOT FOLLOW THIS MAN. LEAVE HIM. BREAK FREE. And following this, should I take this course of action, some questions

(1) How will I cope with the smug self-satisfaction of my ex and his new partner? (Not having my own partner will doubtless create a power vacuum in which Simon will move in, metaphorically, and try to control my life)
(2) How will I manage to discipline/manage/parent my child? and who will support me in this emotionally? (this is a place where Neil takes a role)
(3) What will happen if I get sick, who will care for me and my son? (In the short term I have health and income insurance - I fondly imagine Neil would take care of me, but in reality he could not, with his job responsibilities, and he never takes care of Connor in that hands-on, bathing, story-reading, sport taking kind of a way)
(4) Where will I live? (this is probably the most emotive part. I love my house. I have waited 20 years to have my own home, I have put more cash into it than Neil - and there would be a court battle to try to retrieve that)
(5) What will I do for sex?
(6) What about my aging parents? will I ultimately opt to re-patriate to be with them?

If I go, I should go for me (because I have a good job opportunity, I want to be near my folks), if I don't go I should realise that I am in a holding pattern where I can live separate for him for some time, but eventually it will only tear us apart and the questions above will have to be addressed. Not going and not even taking extended leave over there saves me from court-battles. If I go semi permenantly I have to lose my job and fight connor's dad for custody. If I follow my gut, do not go (at least not with Neil) use this as a chance to sever ties. I have to have a court battle over the house .

Here it seems are my options

(1) Move No Action: Stay here. Remain in relationship. Avoid all court battles.
(2) Explore the boundaries: Stay here. Remain in relationship. Plan extended leave over there and minor court battle with Connor's dad
(3) Gut Instinct: Stay here. Get out of relationship. Have financial settlement battle. No attempt at custody in near future, although reserve right to go and live near folks when connor is old enough to make his own mind up. Put myself at risk of domination/interference by my ex.
(4) Armageddon: Drop job - follow Neil (my SA partner) - have full on custody battle, leave my job and tenure, go an be near my folks with no plan to come back - this would give me a power base. Neil will want to come back but having made the move I would have family support.

Online Surveys & Market Research

Musings on codependence

2008-10-02T18:39:00.000-07:00

It dawned on my rather depressingly this week that, if we believe such a thing exists as codependency, I have it. Apart from the control patterns of codependency (which I don't have), I have a good handful out of each of the other lists. Where did this come from? I have no idea. I did not grow up in a dysfunctional home. But as I look back on my life, from the discomfort of my mid-life crisis. I realise that for no good reason that I can discernm, I have been living my life for other people. And what have I got to show for it? Nothing. No, sorry, very little....

(1) A very unhappy disatisfied mentally ill ex-husband.

I rearranged my life to be with him. I changed countries, left the family I loved. Accompanied him on all his hair-brained adventures, never once saying NO, THAT DOES NOT INTEREST ME, GET STUFFED. I held off on buying a house, having a baby, all the things that meant so much to me, because he was not ready. I cooked the food he liked, shopped where he liked and carefully packed it in the in environmentally friendly bags that he liked, I went on holiday where he wanted to go, did the sports he wanted to do, often to the point of physical exhaustion.

The only thing I have to show for this is my beautiful son, who was a result of my only act of rebellion when I got to 35 and refused to wait anymore, and he was the catalyst for the breakdown of my marriage.

(2) A disrepectful, unfaithful, sex-addicted partner

I do all the household work, and I never argue with his opinions, it is not worth it. This suits him just fine. I feed his addiction by saying "I don't care" and allowing him to be out all day and night and not provide me with any support, and allowing him to objectify me, and to progress his career at the expense of mine. Worse still I have no idea whether or not I do, in fact, care. I remain with him when he has offended every moral value in my soul, and stepped over more marks than I can count, and I have no idea why.

It occurs to me that if I persist in this pattern of self-sacrifice around no-good men, I will not only totally lose myself, but I will have nothing to show for all the hard work such blind devotion entails.

So here's the punchline. If I can't shake myself out of it I may as well put my self-sacrifice to good use and volunteer or give back to society in some way, rather than hitching my wagon to their capricious stars and being dragged heaven knows where.

No smoke without fire...again

2008-08-31T18:02:00.000-07:00

Well as you know my SA partner went into recovery for about 3 months (almost two years ago), declared himself healed, and defied me to discuss it with him, because I was too angry and it was not helping. I went on bearing a grudge and being quite angry and sad about it for about a year. Then I realised I could let go. Unfortunately I "threw the baby out with the bathwater" and stopped loving him as selflessly and freely as I could. And this laid the foundation for my own slip.

I resolved not to snoop on him, and that the evidence would come to me. So now it is coming in, and I still ignore it.

The browser history shows craigslist - I have never visited it. The phone bill has two receipts for an online adult chatline - when we were away - all of us. I find receipts in my car for fastfood and car parks, late at night in suburbs far away when I thought he was at work, and finally...he accidentally leaves himself logged in to his email, and so help me I take a look. Half a dozen flirty emails to women I don't know with among the seemingly light friendly banter words like "lick you" "pinch you".

And on the way home in the car, he sighs, tells me he is so sorry he is just not interested in sex... even cites a well known male problem.

So I replied - oh no doubt it would all be fine given the right conditions, and looked at his face in the half light - Dead Pan.

Funny thing is...I feel nothing...this is not a marriage....

Thursday Haiku

2008-08-31T17:51:00.000-07:00

Were my hopes founded
On a moment of folly
Or twenty one years?

You introduced me
To the girl I used to be
then led her astray

My phone is silent
A weapon of destruction
it lies here inert

And I am still here
The passion has subsided
but still I need you

The olympics make me feel old

2008-08-20T05:01:00.000-07:00

Everytime some olympic veteran looks close to triumph, and the commentator says "This is wrinkly podgesome's 4th olympics, and what a story, what a triumph, what a competitor, at 33 she is quite the veteran, quite the seasoned athlete..." I think hmm 33 that's old... about my age...then realise I am almost a full decade older... and feel my olympic dreams fade. I remember not so long ago when the only ones of my age were the para-pubescent gymnasts such as Nadia komenich or Olga Korbet did I take my eyes of the road??? how did I get to be so old????

Needs Meme

2008-08-18T19:03:00.000-07:00

An old one from MamaMPJ

The rules: Google your first name with the word "needs" behind it and post the first 10 results.

1. Fiona needs loving home
Yes, one where it's not me doing all the loving

2. Fiona needs clothes
My work colleagues would undoubtedly agree

3. Fiona Needs | Facebook
Like a hole in the head

4. Fiona needs star treatment
Oh, go on then

5. Fiona needs some foster family help ...
OK take me in

6. Fiona needs sangria
yes Yes YES

7. Fiona needs a Cowboy
yes yes Yes Yes YES YES

8. Fiona needs cash for mercy mission
Mission impossible

9. Fiona needs a boyfriend
Like a fish needs a bicycle

10. Fiona needs a caption.
Because no man is the isle of Iona

Does my ass look guilty in this?

2008-08-11T19:36:00.000-07:00

Since my last post a number of sequels have come into my mind. I usually don't put pen to paper until I have the thoughts well formed in my mind, but I think I need to take the taste of the spectacular misbehaviour away!! I got less comments than I expected. An ominous silence. Anyway here are the three possible sequels:

(1) Why I never need a counsellor again, and have reached serenity in my life
(2) How infidelity looks now I have tried it on for size
(3) Vote on my next step (in which I put up a reader poll and you tell me what to do)

So I will opt for number (2) with the others coming up shortly

My higher power, in their wisdom has brought me two pieces of reading material this weekend. The first was from a british newspaper. Why I cheated, inside the mind of an adulterer which tells the story of an affair from a man's point of view. The line that really was a wake up call for me came near the end where he describes the reaction when they were found out.

"Emma was stigmatized as a cheating spouse and a disloyal friend. People reacted less violently to my betrayal. The fact that I was a man seemed to make it easier to understand. But the societal condemnation of Emma, the woman, was brutal. It was too much for her. She went back to her husband"

He thought, as a man might, that he could have it all. Love his wife, and indulge his passion for her friend. The second was about sex and the dems by Michael Wolff in vanity fair in which he asserts that

"Men in public positions who have sneaky sex are weak. The very fact that they would risk their public positions for sex (just sex) is a sign of their weakness. "

It is clear to me sadly that when I move aside from the quasi-romance of being with someone from 20 years ago, and dreams of what may have been. The risk of being found out is too high. Apart from the damage to our small children. I am the one who has most to lose. I would be stigmatized and hated, he would at worst be considered "weak".

A spectacular piece of misbehaviour

2008-08-01T14:06:00.000-07:00

About a month ago the second of my decamped ex-boyfriends arranged to meet up with me as he was in the town where I work. I decided not to make the mistake of telling Neil this time because he has nothing to fear. Right.

I notice woman.anonymous7 has been toying with "getting back at her husband" through infidelity. There is, as you will see, and element of this. It is more about me, than revenge however, I never intend anyone to find out (that's why I'm publishing it on the web). We fell into each other's arms in a way that was, as my friend Dan once described overwhelming and for about a month after there were passionate exchanges and declarations.

Since then however things are starting to return to normal. The messages are dying down. I can package the night away, as a happy and memorable one. Twenty years elapsed between out trysts. And whilst I may cherish a hope that sometime in the future we will be together, I fear that time is actually in the past. He represents the life I may have had if circumstances had been different.

This is the first time I have ever cheated on anyone, but somewhere in there, there is catharsis.

Two things I do know:

(1) I can now instantly forgive my (formerly) sex addicted partner
(2) Things felt so right, so connected, and there was so much chemistry, I know things here are wrong.

But part (2) is corny. How could Neil possibly compete with a pheromone charged evening of lust with someone who I not only have a shared history and affection with, but also subconsciously believe is still 23!!!!????

Understanding Me

2008-07-28T17:39:00.000-07:00

As with so many of my insights, this one occurred as I was driving home, rushing, as it turns out because I was late for the childminder after a long and stressful day at work and a manic dash round to food store.

Why is it that the last person I understand is ME, and I am the last person to understand me?

After my divorce I met Neil who lavished attention and love on me, and seemed ready to fast-forward me into a life long commitment of shared love and respect. At the time for whatever reason this appealed to me perfectly. I had longed to own my own home, I had longed for another baby, I had longed to have a shared vision of the future with a man who loved me, and somewhere in there I hoped that stability for my son would eventuate. He offered all this. We moved in together, started round after exhausting round of unsuccessful IVF, bought a house, and suddenly CRASH he's a sex addict. He has been sleeping with other women throughout our short passionate courtship. Darghh!!! What to do???? He asked me to marry him.

So this is what I did. I said yes. I put my head down. I reasoned that the proposal marked the end of his philandering ways. I pronounced that I had forgiven him - although on reflection I had not. I was full of resentment, and distracted to the point of obsession with visions of him with other women. There were jealous rages by me - possibly hormone driven, though possibly not. At this point I believe I still loved him.

I was not ready to give away the dreams I had held for so long of a home, children and a happy marriage.

So began the steady process of "letting go" I consulted COSA who reasoned against snooping. I stopped snooping, in fact I took it a stage further I decided I didn't care. He could do what he liked, I just had to worry about keeping ME sane. Incidentally about this time and maybe as a result of his 'recovery' our sex life went to custard.

Then this year, 1.5 years after disclosure but somewhat longer since my first suspicions my OB/GYN tells me at my age I only have 2% chance of a take home baby through IVF, and suddenly something gives. That important piece of the puzzle - If I can't have babies with him and don't love him properly why am I wasting his time? I am living a lie, and I now know 100% for sure that I do not want to marry him. All that is left is the lifestyle, and stability for my son. We may as well be room mates.

Enter the agent of change that is the subject of my next post...