I wish I'd never met you

I wish I'd never met you

This is something Simon said to me after we split up, when he was happily ensconced in his rebound relationship. I really don't know where it came from, and at the time though it seems quite a cruel thing to say. It was like water off a ducks back.

I certainly didn't feel the same about him, as we had had a beautiful baby together who was and is the center of my world.

But I have felt it about George, only in that all that mooching, and swooning and longing was for nought really.  My time would've been better spent on work. In fact, at my own hand I may have done some career damage by taking my hand of the wheel and my eyes off the road.

And I got nothing in return nothing.  As I said in my last post but one, there wasn't even companionship, or long term friendship. He didn't take me out with his circle of friends. Although at the end of my visit he said  "I'm sorry, I haven't been around as much as I would have liked" really an equally plausible explanation was that he was actually rather embarrassed by my presence and keeping himself deliberately busy.  I could have reacted in that way in his position both of us possibly being inclined to avoid conflict. Though I hope I would've had the courage to be more up front about things.

I wonder what I stopped Simon from doing? Becoming a Sandinista in Nicaragua maybe,  or remaining productively and happily child free? or travelling the world like a sort of hobo Robin Hood taking from the rich and giving to the poor and living a very simple vegan life unencumbered bu worldly possessions? 

Collateral damage in other peoples' mid life crises

Maybe the Christmas Box worked, or maybe other crises took over because today I am feeling better about it. Maybe just the separation is working, the slow growing apart that has to happen. The acknowledgement that I never did, and still don't really know him and am not part of his inner circle or ever will be. Maybe even that apart from the structural things we are still unsuited. I don't really like watching sport in pubs for example, and I am not particularly motivated by money.

I had a little run in at work.Someone is telling tales about me, which resulted, through some sort of Chinese whisper process in me being accused of gossip. Career damaging gossip, by a person senior to me, who holds a great deal of power. My conscience is clear, I never said the things about this person that they suspect me of.  But still unsettling, and I honestly can't remember what I have said to anyone that might've brought this accusation on. 

At the base of both of these problems might be that the people in question are insecure. George was very vulnerable after his divorce and he sucked me into a sort of fantasy, or not entirely normal way of being which was ultimately damaging to my psyche. Same with this senior colleague. That colleague has very generally acted in some rather "sailing close to the wind" ways, and so for all the gossip floating around a chunk of it has been pinned on me. A sort of deflection if you will. I have become collateral damage in that persons mid-life crisis as well. 

I just need to spot this problem from afar off in future.

The Christmas Box

I had already decided to not read any of the emails or texts that had passed between George and I until Christmas. It is just too painful to read. Anyway. I still am haunted by disturbing thoughts despite being on anti-depressants, giving myself time, seeking out counselling, and sleeping and eating properly, taking exercise, getting out and meeting people. Still. I can't let it go. I read about mindfulness and being in the present and when you have a negative thought, label it, and let it float away.

Float away

I wish. I have to put those thoughts somewhere. So whenever I have a triggering thought I put it in a box to be opened at Christmas. The reason is, perversely thoughts of him still give me some kind of pleasure. But they are fruitless and ultimately hurt me and I am hurting myself. So if I can just put them on hold until I can deal with them. Perhaps they won't be important by then.

So here is what is in here so far. Sailing, twins, grand pianos, the shipping forecast, anyone called George, miniature schnauzers, the whole of London, the whole of Portugal, my old school and all the friends in it, the city of London, the stock exchange, anything to do with Risk or portfolio management, sheet music, mashed potato, sausages, brandy, Battersea, Marathon running, private banking, Norfolk,.. 

Privilege and Integrity

Did I learn anything about myself, or love? not so sure. But here are some mixed reflections on privilege


The old boy network
Part of feeling ripped off by this whole situation was that I realised, had I stayed in my COO like many of my friends I could've made use of my "old boy" network. Through connections via my family, my school I could've gained my access into I dunno, sailing clubs, the city, good and appropriate marriages.. But thinking on this for a while I find it quite repellent, and back then I was no different. I didn't want any easy course to success. I wanted to make it myself. which is why maybe subconsciously I landed up in a new country far far away with a clean slate. This instinct was much guided by my ex husband who probably felt this idea more keenly, or likely did not have the network I had.  So unlike George and his ilk, I rejected this world as elitist and snobbish. To my detriment or not? I mean as a woman a good marriage could be the path of least resistance, but I didn't want to play second fiddle to any man, I wanted to be successful in my own right.


George as a catalyst
I've been homesick for 25 years. When a gorgeous handsome articulate man in my COO showed an interest in me. My simple mind, without much conscious thought, took this as a balance tipping event. Now there was more to send me back than to keep me here. Now there was someone who I really liked and admired that I would love to form an allegiance with.


But after the weird lukewarm, dismissive behaviour he demonstrated. We never actually did anything together socially. In my darker moments I even think I was an embarrassment to him. Possibly he is a catalyst for staying away. Who wants to live in a class-ridden society surrounded by money obsessed self-centred toffs? even if it does end in granite top benches and holidays in Martinique. Yes. The old self speaks. Maybe this is a call  to appreciate what I have, where I am


Loving things that can't love you back.
But I still can't shake the notion that is was love of a kind. He baulked at this notion, but as you know I am quite practiced at loving things that can't love me back. Maybe this came from having an autistic brother, or losing babies. I knew quite emphatically that I loved them when I had never met or known them.  I so much wanted to be part of his life. To turn the clock back maybe a reconnect with the life I didn't have, the choice I didn't make. I felt completely at home in his home. He exhibited all the notions of good taste I had been brought up to admire. He was tirelessly gentlemanly and he was accomplished. He had a childhood in common with me. He was touchingly vulnerable. We had so many things in common. But in the final analysis he was a bit of a wanker to be honest. All this counts for nothing if you are not true to your word. Maybe I could write off his behaviour as that of a brilliant man, capricious, mercurial, driven by higher things. But that would be flattering him I fear. He messed with my head and only now am I starting to find healing.

I'm not mad

I have got to the point where I am sick of myself over this. George has left emotionally probably in early May. I on the other hand am still nursing  a crush, an obsession even, It reminds me of a rather plain girl at school. I think she might even have been special needs, but she got the idea she was dating my very good looking teenage next door neighbor. She had his photo in her wallet. We all knew nothing was going on, and it was sad sad sad... who knows though maybe at some point he had encouraged her. Snogged her at a party or something.

 Anyway I am that girl.

I am deluded.

George has left the building, and I am completely unable to stop my learnt behaviour of constantly polling for messages from him. He largely ignores me, but if he ever does get in touch it is super polite. Today I finally cut myself some slack. After all, from Jan 12 through to May 1 (that's  101 days) I was actively being "courted" by George, and  I enjoyed it very much, It must've been a powerful drug because I came to depend on it. I felt someone was taking an interest in my life. He was texting me every day. It waxed and waned a little, but no more than one would expect with a busy person. Never more than 48 hours, and just before I left to go and be with him he was still saying things like "Not long now XX" or "are you excited? I am x" .So no wonder it is taking me a little while for it to sink in that there was, from my point of view, a sudden turn around. After initially leading me on, he announced the change in circumstances and kind of expected me to go "oh right" and disappear after he'd previously asked what it would take for me to move to his country, and pondering if I would ever be as into him as he was into me. He never unsaid any of those things. The turnaround was so dramatic it just took a little while for my brain to adapt. It was very heartbreaking too. People laugh at me and say "of course you weren't in love" of course you're not heartbroken, but I regret that I was. Maybe I did turn him off, By being emotional, unconfident, less attractive than he remembered.  I think the more likely scenario is that his other girl who is beautiful, confident and highly successful,  became, for one reason or another, more of a prospect. I am quite good at second guessing these things. Maybe even my presence made her keener.

So when he was leading me on, was he mad? was he on drugs? I think it is one of those things that I will never properly understand and I just have to say case closed. I just need to give it time.

Cliches serve me best

Well look its July!

And I'm still brooding. He said "I hope you won't be disappointed" I wasn't disappointed, I was actually hurt and felt a little betrayed. It would really have been better for him to spell things out much earlier on.

Maybe three months of believing I was in love and that love was being returned has left me with at least six months of unproductive time, obsessive thoughts and general malaise. I have to move on. This has been like no other love described on this blog. It is almost as though my very chemistry changed and my brain has ridges pressed into it as though it were a ball of putty which are taking such a long time to iron out.

George's behaviour when I was back in my home country was hard to understand, but it was not inconsistent with him really not giving a shit. Or giving very little of one. At worst I was an embarrassment,  at best I was kind of a gentlemanly duty. Even this last week he sms'd me

It has been stupidly busy..I am sorry I haven't around as much as I would have liked..see you tomorrow..x

I should've left him as a potential lover /left him wanting more rather than serving myself up as I did. Then maybe in the future when he was more free we could've revisited things. But I was crazy about him, had a small window of opportunity, thought he was single and in the end had a lot of trouble letting go of that. I am still in the hangover phase.

So it seems cliches serve me best in coping with it.

"Handsome is as handsome does"
"Words are cheap"
"Actions speak louder than words" there have been a lot of words, but the actions were eventually rather dismissive and uncaring
"Out of sight, out of mind"  it is actually best for me not to check social media for evidence of him. I am aware that I still get a weird kick out of just seeing him and observing his life, but it is ultimately mis placed.
"Least said soonest mended" managing to restrain myself from telling the whole sorry tale to whoever will listen, and perhaps this is helping me not to feed it.
"If is seems too good to be true, it probably is"
"What can't be cured must be endured"

That kind of thing...

Ghosting II

I had forgotten I had written the first ghosting post on April 8th OMG I let this drag out. So eventually we got to Skype and all was well, and it was fine for me to come and stay and yes, he would meet me at the airport.

So I prepared excitedly and nervously. I sacrificed work time. And we met and he took me for a drink in a very expensive wine bar and we held hands, and he kissed me goodnight, and from then on it went downhill. He fell asleep on the sofa holding a wine glass.

For whatever reason, and because of whatever is going on in his life from that point on he thought the best way was to somehow scale me back

So in the morning he told me that he was in love with a friend of his, but it was (of course) complicated (she is still married, in name only, has three children and is possibly less into him than he is into her).  And if it doesn't risk identifying her she has a really high powered city job and her family is in one country and her "husband" in yet another. I have no idea how she conducts a life like this, but clearly she doesn't dissolve in her own grief like me.

He could just sleep with me and sod her he said, but he was being more of a gentleman than that. And for some reason I thought that since they were not actually  in a relationship (but honestly what do I know from that summary? - she is too nice for that kind of thing so it has been everything but - that's what is hinted at) I thought maybe there was still a chance for us. So I continued to be physically affectionate to him.

And slowly but surely he started to pull away. He spend a couple of nights away from the flat, but he maintained that I was absolutely welcome to stay.  Whilst this is a nightmare scenario, for some reason I decided to alternate weeks with him and weeks in AirBnB and that went OK and we had a couple of nice meals together. Then things seemed to come to a head with him and the "friend", and he was spending more and more time anxiously texting her.

About three nights before I actually left I became a little tearful. I think many people would when faced with this mixed message. He said "what did you think, that we would fall in love, walk off into the sunset and live happily ever after??" made me sound quite mad. But, if he had actually been properly single as he purported to be, at least we could've given it a go. As it stands I think a kind of half hearted "go" was had. in which he tried to work out if I was in any way a contender, realised I wasn't and then finally watched as I sealed the deal by being neurotic.

He chose this point to suggest that we should be friends - yes something that I had kind of held in mind as the possible outcome, and this being the case he thought that me cuddling him, or stroking his head (fairly non-sexual things really) were a threat to our friendship.  In fact what he said was "the worst thing that can happen is that we end up friends" which makes me wonder what the best thing was (that I would just disappear?) I didn't read this double entendre at the time though. And looking back there were a few of them over the few weeks I was there.

E.g

"I have a spare room, and you can choose where to sleep, but I know you will make the right choice every night" or
"One of us here is a really good piano player and the other is a try hard wanna be"

And this weird little reflexive way he had of echoing the things I said.  I would say " I was longing to see you and he would say "as I was you"  I would say " you have a nice arse" and he would say "as do you" almost as a sort of overly gentlemanly friendly impulse that was not meant at all


And now I have this horrible post non-relationship hangover where I can't do anything. I just want to sleep and listen to audio books and I am bursting into tears all the time. His last text to me was "lets chat later" and since then he has ignored all my messages, as if perhaps helping me out by sending a clear message.  Your contact is an embarrassment.

I feel unwelcome here, in the country of my birth and I see no pleasure at all in going back to my adopted country. I have stuffed up on the work I was supposed to do here. I have failed and this is the beginning of the end work wise. I can't think of   one thing I want to go back for. He pushed me into this hole. I was quite happy before, and yet I think you and I both know dear reader that this was at some level my doing. I became obsessed, and I am feeding off it long after it is over. I desperately need to move on, but it has precipitated a deep grief in me which is unrelated. I guess, but all those months he was my ardent fan, and took an interest in my life, and now he has just withdrawn it because he feels threatened by my keenness on him, I should've just treated him mean right from the very beginning. So now he is ghosting me again.

What aspect of this fake friendship do I really want?

Well this isn't a very well written blog, but in closing maybe all I can do is console myself that his life is so chaotic, and he is so strung up over this woman that he literally has to sideline me to survive. And he feels a little embarrassed about having lead me on and the eventual outcome on my mental health. And I should respect him by giving him space.

What I think is that one way you can deal with ghosting is to kind of re write history. Just write yourself a little explanatory note or text of what they should have said and then over time just replace the huge ghosting void  in your mind with this better story/

He should've told me, when we met, that he left his wife on the hopes of forming a relationship with this woman "who is really perfect for him at every level and he has a deep and lasting connection with" rather than let me somehow fill the sexual gap for a month or two, He should've said when he was "really fed up" or struggling about his marriage that there was nothing I could help him with because there was a third person involved. Maybe I could've consoled him about her, or listened to him, but I wouldn't have debased myself by sexting or talking in a romantic way to him. Here are some more freaky fakey things he said

"I would like to meet your family"
"what have you done to me"
"one day you might like me as much as I like you"
"what would it take for you to move back here?"
"you are lovely"
"you are amazing"

He could've politely declined to have me to stay, I think he expected me to move out after the first morning when he said "you have some thinking to do" and I said "I've done enough thinking" he also said "maybe you should take your friend up on her offer of a place to stay" which at the time was my boss who I hardly knew and frankly I would rather stay with him. Yes maybe in his polite English way he was trying to chuck me out.  He could've bought a camp bed and told me you can stay on the camp bed before I arrived.

There is one last little batch of things that are about me that this triggered.
(1) I want to move back to my country of origin, and this gave me an excuse - although now this country of origin is making me a bit sick I don't know where  I fit in

(2) I hated that school I went to in year 11, and he made it all OK by presenting as a friendly person from my past

(3) I didn't realise I was lonely, until I had someone who texted me daily and took an interest in my life.

Ghosting

Less than a month from seeing the love of my life again and he has become withdrawn. Reading back through our messages there was nothing to suggest this a month ago. He was so determined to meet me at the airport. Now he doesn't reply to my messages for whole weekends my history gives this a great big warning bell. It has happened to me at least three times before. Once at uni I went away on a rail trip round Europe and when I got back my boyfriend of two years had moved in with another girl. Well he ignored me for a month or two, and then that was what emerged. Hamish also started behaving strangely he was quite happy to sleep with me, but started getting text messages at unexpected times and shoving his phone back in his pocket. Then he gave me the old it's not you it's me speech. Seamus delivered the classic

http://i0nafi0na.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/other-peoples-damaged-kids.html

after a period of silence.

A period of silence is not a good thing. I am very worried. Well I not so much worried as in between just writing him off and gritting my teeth and trying to make other plans, demanding an explanation, or just not making it easy for him and waiting for him to come back to me. Why should I make it easy? apart from to know the truth. This I think is what psychologists call ambiguous loss such as when a person goes missing, and you live in hope. It is quite a common method for men to break up with you I have noticed. My first boyfriend did it. As far as I know I am still going out with him. We never split up, he just disappeared. It was harder in those days with only phone and letter as options.

So is it better to know? is it better to know your love(d one) is dead, or to live in hope. It is a bit like it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved. I have always felt ambiguous about that one. These experiences and knocking the expectation of finding joy in new relationships out of me, and I am starting to think never having loved at all would've been at the very least more efficient

Or another one that I actually uttered myself. It's not you being unfaithful that bothers me, its the lying about it!! Yes again, not true. The unfaithfulness is very bothering. Of course it is. That one is nonsense. Anyone who does that needs to be kicked to the curb.

Can't really say that about George because we never had a relationship in the real world

The One

Ok I am going to subject you to some more drivel about how in love I am.  Maybe I can look back in 5 years time and see just how addled by brain was. It is true when you are in love (which I presume this state is) levels of  adrenaline, serotonin, dopamine, cortisol .. you name it oh..  oestrogen, testosterone they are all up.  So it is like being on crack cocaine

http://www.youramazingbrain.org/lovesex/sciencelove.htm

Anyway having not even kissed this guy properly. I feel more certain (than I ever have) that he is "the one".

OK so winding back. In the past I have heard the words "I love you" quite a few times (just for the record not from  George yet)  and it is certainly stirring, and often I have felt something back.... but not like this.

I remember in the first few months with Neil, I heard him telling his friends that I was "the one" and I felt a mixture of flattered and uneasy. He was a narcissist and was in the early stage of putting me on a pedestal. Right up until the end he claimed he loved me, but it was a strange sort of love. He slept with other women!

When I met my husband I remember writing in my diary that "something quite magical is going on" because we had talked non stop for 1.5 hours. But I even remember as I wrote it, it felt contrived. Who am I at this distance to say for sure I didn't feel it, but I think I was so desperate to stop the chase and get married and settle down and he was the first man who came close.

But still, it was nothing like this...

I feel completely at ease with him even though we are so far away. I trust him. I fancy him like hell. He fancies me back and doesn't ever make me feel insecure or unwanted - well there have been times when I waited 48 hours for an sms but now that never happens. He always checks in with me.

I am so desparately looking forward to seeing him. For a while I couldn't eat. But I am ok now.

We seem to have the same values - though maybe not the same politics. I literally can't wait to be in his life and spend it with him. I never thought I would feel this way at this late stage in my life.

That's it. Lets see what the love rat can do

A man is not, and has never been a plan

Well the fairy tale continues. Daily Skype and messenger contact from George is pushing every romantic button in my body (as well as many other less romantic ones). Since our first polite email exchange of thank you notes, it has emerged that both of us had a terrible crush on the other and basically can't wait to rip each others clothes off. It hasn't really gone beyond that, obviously it can't because we are now on opposite sides of the world, but it hasn't stopped me having fantasies along the lines of I will go back to my country of origin and live with him whatever it takes, and I think he is the one..

I kid you not he looks like this ...

at 47 he is three years younger than me and I can't for the life of me imagine what he sees in me, except, he would remember what I was like at 18. Unattainable goddess of the six form common room.

So as much as I try to scratch the fairy tale it keeps on coming back. It is reaching the level of dangerous obsession but he is fueling it by contacting me each night and morning and being amorous towards me. 

This evening I had a thought. Whilst a man is not a plan I think what I crave is stability. So being a pretty much untouchable single mother who never went out and got pleasure from just running her own show and being around her child was one sort of stability, and another sort that I would really like would be a partner that I can trust who I have a lot in common with (shared history and interests) and profoundly love and feel attracted to. If such things still exist. So far his approach has been very different to anything I have encountered in the last 10 years.

I am startled by how ready I am to give up my life here. For someone I barely know. This element of it feels like internet dating era madness. But looking back a couple of posts, to be in my country of origin has never been off the agenda. I am just waiting for Connor to be old enough or to negotiate to take him too. It seems, and George has just added grist to the mill.

A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time a kind, funny, generous and  (in her own way) beautiful princess named Fiona (not that Fiona) was trapped in a country far far away by an evil overlord, Simon and a pair of golden golden handcuffs applied by the self-serving corporation to which she was indentured.

Day after day she worked without reward and in the evenings she tried to look after and nurture her  illegitimate son Connor. Connor was the son of he evil overlord Simon, but Simon contrived to ignore him as far as possible and take no part in his  upbringing. The villagers never knew whether this inattention was due to Simon's inner demons or a preference to spend his time with exotic asian princesses from other lands.
One year Simon released Fiona for six weeks so that she may travel back to her homeland across many seas to see the people she loved. He cautioned her, as he always did, that she had better return before the stroke of six weeks or he would remove the child from her and take her to "court"

So Fiona and Connor made the long and perilous journey back to the icy kingdom and spent Christmas with their extended family. One evening, Fiona being free from her duties wandered into town to meet an old school friend George. She did not know George well, but he had sent word that he wanted to meet her. He strode into the hotel lobby wearing a cashmere coat. He was tall dark and handsome, and as he kissed her on both cheeks as was the custom in that land the coldness and firmness of his cheek on hers was electrifying. They spent an evening together huddled in a local hostelry eating earthy food and talking about how their lives had gone. They had much in common, more than would be reasonably predictable Fiona thought. A love of music and sailing, oddly both had Autistic brothers.

When it was time to go they were reluctant to say goodbye but again with a gentle brush of the cheek he left through the revolving door. Fiona could not deny that she was smitten by this man. He was intelligent, good looking, generous, gentlemanly posh and sexy. Being the age she was she thought I have nothing to lose. I will write him a thank you letter and tell him what a lovely evening I had. By return mail he responded in kind calling her wonderful and the evening " the best in some time" and vowing to see her again when she was next in town.

He send a message to say he was "missing her already" but Fiona could not discern of this was a cute colloquialism or turn of phrase common to that land having been away for so long. Or indeed, in her darkest thoughts a cad like ruse to keep her on the boil.

When the six weeks was up a fairy swept her back to the country of the overlord and corporation. Fiona was lonely and confused, but she and George kept in touch and, in the fullness of time, she came to visit George again. This time he confessed his love for her and they lived happily ever after splitting their time between Europe and the Antipodes playing duets on a baby grand piano. Skiing and yachting, Supporting each other in whatever life threw at them and yet being fully independent and fulfilled individuals.
Fiona knew at last that love existed and she had found her soulmate.
The End

Scrattchhhhh........

And everytime I think of this man I remind myself that that is indeed what he is, a fairy tale concocted by my own imagination 

Of desperate crushes and personal effectiveness

Some time ago when I was in fact married, I developed a crush on someone who did not know I existed, and of course I could not act upon it. I was a moral sort of girl who believed in her marriage vows. I used to have delightful waking and sleeping fantasies, I strove to be near him, I hung on his every word and then one day I realised it was causing me a lot of unhappiness, this unrequited love that I couldn't act upon was eating me from the inside

out, and seriously could I blame love? this *thing* came from within. I was in fact foisting this misery on myself. From that day on it became easier to deal with. If I can make it happen then surely I can make it go away, and, within time, it diminished. It's a good job that man didn't encourage me.

Now I realise I can see an analogy in personal effectiveness. I was going to write a self deprecating piece about how my brother had always been more effective than me. He knew what his dreams were and he grabbed them enthusiastically. He married a sensible and driven woman and they raised two very personable and hard working successful children. He even has time for his own interests. He plays a musical instrument, is widely read and takes an active role in politics.  I on the other hand have never known what I wanted. I have always needed a champion, a leader... which ironically

at first, was him, my brother. I put my pocket money towards his hobbies. I enhanced his stamp collection, bought old 78 records, even a airfix model for him to make, sincerely believing that these were *my* interests. I was/am honestly ripe for the plucking for control freaks the world over.

So once again helpless in the face of a higher force but what?  misfortune?  my gender?

A victim of love

A victim of circumstance

A victim of genetics

What I realised in trying to write this is something I have probably thought before. There are plenty of people out there ready to put you down, There is no need to do it yourself. You are hurting yourself in the same way that nursing a hopeless crush was hurting yourself.

There is no need for that. Others will look at your output and judge you ineffective and I could join them, take a long lensed objective view and say yes, I am indecisive, prone to subject myself to irrational leaders (or manipulative ones) but... how is this going to help?

Possibly in the sense of "know your enemy" but If I state that I am not personally effective, if I highlight even silently to myself how I can't do things and make the wrong choices, it could potentially actually make it so.

Be careful what you wish for II

I was in church last Sunday, having the opportunity to reflect on my life. I am not a very good believer. I'm not sure I even believe, but I go to a church that has the most incredible choir and choral tradition of church music that I love, and I find about once a month it is a good place for contemplation. Often a little thought pops into my head and this week it was: Be careful what you wish for...remember the other things that you have desperately wanted in your life and how they have worked out for you.

It won't have passed you by that I have been chronically homesick for 25 years. It is getting worse not better as I face my son's teenager hood as a single mother, and meanwhile my parents on the other side of the world are getting older. I am not particularly enjoying my job, my ex is controlling, and I fantasize daily about running back to the bosom of my family. Particularly as my son is at a crossroads being about to start high school would this be the ideal time to run? will I look back and regret it?

So at the risk of covering some old ground, what else have a longed for over the years? Well first I longed to get married. I wanted to become that mythical ringed creature with the promise of eternal love and fidelity. I ruthlessly put it into action instead of biding my time and letting the natural order of things take

precedence. I made it clear to the young immature boy who fell in love with me that marriage was what I wanted and, in him, I got a dependant. A sort of man-child, an irrational dictator, an ineffectual fop and when I was no longer good as a playmate, he pulled the plug on me.

Overlapping with that I longed to have a baby. It took me 10 years to get my desire. I was 24 when I got married  27 when I was ready and 37 when I actually had a baby through three miscarriages, several periods of unexplained infertility and the IVF rollercoaster. For whatever reason getting this baby put a huge wobble on my marriage and culminated in me being jettisoned in to single parenthood at 40.

I longed to own my own home. And so I dove in at 40 (!) with an inappropriate man to home ownership..having played the waiting game with that other inappropriate man for a baby and a house.

So if I were to sell/rent out my house. Negotiate with my ex, take my daughter away from all her friends and move back to my country of origin. How could I expect this 25 year yearning

to work out?

Yearn to marry - get a dependant

Yearn for a baby - end up single

Yearn for a home - end up with a mortgage alone at 50

Yearn to travel home - what'll it be ??

lose your child

... or gain a dependant

... or end up married

...or..

Incidentally, I put a specific "prayer" out to the universe about this this morning. Dear higher being/god/circumstance/inner fairy godmother, what do I have to do to make this manifest? What can I do to get out of this bind whereby I am a wage slave/puppet/house elf isolated from my family and controlled by my ex? And this was the answer

"Pay Simon [Father of my child] off"

Now I wouldn't have expected that from God.

Hello Again

I found a couple of unpublished posts from about a year ago. I don't know if I have time to write regularly, but maybe I will just put these ones out there and try to keep going...

What is a real man, again.

Well, I have been divorced (or at least separated) for almost a decade now. Attempts at finding a meaningful adult relationship have been largely unsuccessful. Whilst I have not given up on it, it is at the very least on hold. Something I found a little useful lately was a reflection on what I didn't want in a man. Based loosely on the things I have encountered during and after my marriage;

(1) Irrational dictator (Simon: barking at me that "we are not doing this, we are not doing that" and then later (quite often) turning around and deciding to do it himself),
(2) Groundless opinions (Simon again: freely given baseless opinions on everything from Immigration to which colours go together),
(3) Passive aggression (Simon also: to accompany the above, shut down if people don't agree with you, and refuse to discuss - this includes big life decisions like buying a house, moving in together, having a baby),
(4) Outright bald aggression (Neil: If a person doesn't agree with you shut THEM down, physically if necessary)
(5) Unfaithfulness and the accompanied necessary lies and possible gaslighting (making me think it is all in my mind (Neil)),
(6) Meaningless posturing/assumptions about their role in my life - "I'm here to Protect and Provide!" whilst doing neither, and without being asked to anyway (Neil). "I can just see where this is going, you'll move in and get half of my assets" (John, and school dad)

(7) Distain and indifference (all of them ultimately),
(8) Objectification ie "I couldn't just sleep with anyone, I REALLY LIKE you" followed by a litany of my physical charms and nothing about me as a person (Seamus and Hamish (in actions if not in words)),
(9) Cherry picking - you would be perfect if it wasn't for your child (Seamus)
(10) Ineffectual posturing (Simon - earning a 5th of what I do then turning up at school in a business suit handing round his card, telling the teacher how to do her job...)

Then I got to thinking maybe many of these are the dark side  of what we consider attributes of a REAL MAN. We like our men to be strong, and admire us physically. We socialise them that way.  I may be in the minority of women really not liking to be objectified. Even more demanding, we want our men to bond with us for life, help us to raise our children, not look at other women..So if I was born a man, and couldn't rise to these expectations maybe I too would "fake it 'til I made it"


I see so many unhappily married parents of school aged kids.  The men who manage to be faithful to their wives, take an interest in their kids, bring home the bacon, and project an ideal of manhood are in the minority and their wives become tired, irritable, critical and unappreciative, and stop making an effort.

I set to wondering if maybe being faithful was, to men, the ultimate sacrifice they make for their women. It is not in their nature, they have to work at it every day relentlessly pushing down their urges and finding the best in themselves for the greater good of their families, and they actually want credit for this - from their wife and from society. It is analogous to women keeping young and beautiful - diet, exercise, a nip and a tuck, whatever it takes (subtext - to keep our man) it's not easy or natural for us we would rather eat donuts and wear a velour tracksuit. We actually want credit for that (from our husbands and from society). Both may be doomed to failure, but it doesn't stop us trying.

My mistake is that I have always wanted to get beyond this. I have wanted to be with someone who is actually my friend, is with me for who I am, rather than (as well as) my physical assets and has no trouble being faithful and keeping their end up financially, and tells the truth in small and large things and confronts problems head on.

There have been very few people with whom I have formed an easy, mutually rewarding, relationship of this kind. People who do all of the above and who make me laugh, give me just the right amount of space, compassionately observe my life, build me up where necessary, be honest about my flaws. Who treat me like a human as well as a body. People I really long to come home to... and in fact those people would be my mother and my son and a few close friends in my university days.

Other people's damaged kids

Oh My! people have I got an update for you? Well, I suppose I took a risk, I went away over Christmas for six weeks. I wasn't sure about Seamus's level of commitment. We had had very happy times together in 2013, but it still seemed to have "Hamish" overtones. Never the less I had heard those three little words a few times. I thought it would be a test, and that we would find out how we truly felt about each other.

Anyway over Christmas I had some trouble with my mobile phone and our communications were challenged. Then I got it sorted but things were still very quiet. I eventually queried how quiet he was and this was the reply:

Hi Fiona Yes UR right my absence is an indication that something has changed. I have been talking  with a woman friend from work this is totally unexpected but we have connected really well. Its not that I don't or haven't loved you, I really don't want young kids at this stage in my life I've known this for some time as I have mentioned to u. Anyway, I would like to pursue a relationship with her. I know you will be hurt, I don't know it you still wish to keep in touch or just write me off. Let me know your thoughts love Seamus Happy New yearI'm sorry for letting you down.

Hmm well it arrived on the morning of New Years day. I was at my parent's house. There was no place for middle aged grief over a middle aged dalliance, so, not to be crude I restricted my tears to the few minutes it took to visit the bathroom that morning.

Being in the protection of my family cushioned the blow, but now I have returned home and reality has hit. Worse still that "woman friend from work" also has kids ever so slightly  (2-5 years) older.

Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeparking/1229303016/sizes/l/

I do have a postscript on Seamus, but for the moment I will concentrate on Connor. We are in a SPOC relationship - Single parent only child.  It is almost impossible for me to judge his sociability or behaviour, but I always get good comments from friends who invite him on playdates, he was a dream to travel with over Christmas, and my (highly biased) family found him no trouble at all.

The only people who have mentioned / been honest enough to criticise his behaviour are my friend  Marcia, Seamus and Connor's own father Simon who said "he is painful". The horrible irony of this crap from Connor's own father is not lost on me. Years of infertility and IVF lead me to consider adoption. Well I recall his response "I don't want to raise someone else's damaged kids" and now the stupid git won't even raise his own kid.

I think the SPOC thing is relevant the single parent only child relationship is a particular pressure cooker environment.  Journalist Sue Carpenter in the Daily Mail describes her relationship with her daughter thus: 

 ..when Simi was just seven years old, and we were walking along our local strip of restaurants in South London, with Simi vetoing all the ones I liked while making a strong case for the one with the chocolate brownie and ice cream that she preferred, that I suddenly stopped. ‘Hang on, Simi,’ I said. ‘How come you’re making the decisions? I’m the mummy, you’re the child!’ Since then, I’ve become increasingly aware of the very particular relationship I have with Simi, that of Single Parent and Only Child.

 and ..

Simi would select the TV channel or DVD and set the table while I cooked supper. Then we’d cuddle up on the sofa and often end up going to bed at the same time. I had nobody to answer to, nobody to undermine or question my way of raising my child.

I recognise something of our relationship in this.

In my early days of my relationship with Seamus, Connor and having "young kids" in his life did come up, my close friend Marcia (who has three kids) recommended that, to alleviate his concerns I should do a parenting course, because in her opinion Connor had become entitled, and manipulative and I needed to learn some strategies to rein him in. So I went ahead, hired a babysitter and did the six week course and associated exercises.

http://www.hyperhidrosisweb.com/parenting/single-parenting.htm

http://www.mnn.com/family/family-activities/blogs/why-being-an-only-child-is-great

He is nowhere near as difficult as some of the kids I encountered on the course there, but I know there are some particular things about our relationship that make it hard for others to be part of it, and that I am not as harsh in my discipline as I might be, not least for the lack of a moderating influence in the shape of another child.

Anyway,  it did not work out with the woman friend from work and Seamus would like us to take up where we left off. Doubtless there is still friendship and chemistry.

Which leaves me perplexed. Has the not wanting young kids thing gone away?  Am I just a back up plan? that just seems the obvious conclusion. I also conclude that this could happen again the next time some prospect comes along. Cheifly I ask if I am strong enough to handle it?

Being valued

I had a thought the other day which went something along the lines of

Somewhere out there there is somebody who would want to marry me. They would take this 47 year old kit, as is, and make it theirs.

The problem being, how high might the price be? It might have to be a very old and unattractive man, they might beat me, use me, spend my money, or worst of all not value me for who I am.

I was running this idea past Seamus the other night, he was following along. After all he thinks I have nice tits and no doubt there would be some dude who would want to have their way with me... But when I got to the value part, I received the blankest of blank stares.

Photo credit Andrew Malone wikimedia commons

Well, I go to work every day, I work hard, I make a good wage, I am highly qualified, I have my own home, somehow I manage to keep it clean and to cook and look after my child all alone, I'm a kind and generous person. I'm not big noting myself, but these things don't grow on trees.

Then something happened at work:

I am lucky enough to have long service leave approved for three months next year. But after this had happened Capow! the only other person who could do my job is pregnant, and my employer is high and dry. I am very hard to replace.

In the marriage/dating market I am apparently ten-a-penny but at work it is hard to replace me. This is one of the most alluring things about being a working woman. I am valued. Sigh. Even if it is some sort of imputed value derived from the cost and difficulty of replacing me.

Why Men Love Bitches

Well, this is a thought that has been brewing for a while. It is nothing like  the thoughts indicated in the book of the same name, although I think I can be guilty of doormatism and pricing myself too low. I prefer to stick to my principles, be my own person (both of which the book recommends) but  not contrive to use bitchery to attract a man (which seems to be the main thrust).

Anyhow my thesis is an evolutionary one and goes thus, the kinda bitch a man likes is one that sets the bar high, sets him clear boundaries and follows through with consequences if he lets her down. Although they will proclaim otherwise, many of them especially the old fashioned men's men do not want to be king of their castle, or master in their own home, they actually want to be organised by a woman.

And the reason this is so appealing?

Well those type of women make good mothers, and after all human coupling is all about finding the best parent for your offspring

Ta! Da!

Tanabata Revelation

It was the Japanese star festival and I went to a Tanabata festival party where we were exhorted to write our wishes on a bit of paper and hang them in a tree.

My mind was blank and there was nothing I wanted, so I resorted to an old favorite from this blog once wished for in the context of Hamish "A compasisonate observer of my life experience". In that moment, I suppose, I was thinking of a man, a life's companion. But then I woke up on the morning of the 8th, knowing what is lacking in my life. Good and reliable female friends. It's OK where I come from to call them Girlfriends.

Before my marriage girlfriends were pivotal in my life.  They were for travel, fun, joint man hunting expeditions, gossip and emotional support. They watched the comings and goings of my life with compassion and shared in  my ups and downs.  Then abruptly at 25 they were cut out of my life. Because, marriage is supposed to fulfil you, utterly.

No longer will you need to talk into the early hours about your "man troubles" or have a shoulder to cry on because tah da!! you no longer have man troubles do you? No you are  married  and that is nirvana. Should you ever need a shoulder there is a big strong man, look right there, yes him!

So I learnt to live without. I watched romantic films, attempted to gossip with my monosyllabic husband thing, and kept all my troubles to myself. Yes, surely my marriage was a very lonely place.

Occaisionally they would flash into my life, but they too had husbands and the intimacy was never quite restored. There was always a third and fourth wheel in the relationship.

The birth of my first child brought it back - the mum's group thrown together in adversity, having gone through a thing their husbands could not - childbirth and momentarily having time on their hands during maternity leave and the very early life of their first born with all its traumas. They've all scattered now, back to their nests and work-a-day concerns and the care and keeping of husbands.

Since my divorce seven years ago, I don't think I have managed for form a warm female friendship. And once again I have been lonely, possibly looking in all the wrong places for the kind of reciprocal love and support that only female friends can give.