Recovering From The Relationship

Breaking up with someone, any long-term partner whether you have been married or not is difficult. Not only do you miss the closeness of having that one special person to share life with and to confide in, but also if it was a serious relationship, you inevitable have other losses.

One of the most difficult losses for me when I went through my divorce was losing a part of my family. Of course I was terribly hurt that my relationship had ended, but the loss of a number of people who I had been close to for nine years stung. I felt as though I had lost another set of parents, brother, sister, grandparents. People I had cared about deeply were no longer able to be close to me, as family loyalty of course comes first. Although I am still on good terms with my ex in-laws, it can never be how it was and of course we do not speak regularly although when we do I always greatly appreciate it. However it is nice to know that they are well and happy and still able to have regular contact with my son, their first grandchild. It is important for his sake to be able to have quality time with his paternal family and I am glad he is able to spend time with them every year for a holiday. He always comes back with lovely stories of how Nanna took him to the zoo and how he helped Grandpa in his vegetable patch. They live in a beautiful Cotswold village, just idyllic for a young boy to have wonderful adventures in the countryside.

Of course it is not only the family that you lose, but inevitable the friendships as well. Some friends, who knew one of you before you became a couple, unavoidably have to take sides. This is easy to understand as it would make their life extremely difficult to remain good friends with both parties, particularly in the early stages of a separation, but however logical it is, it does not mean you feel their loss any less keenly.

There are also the children to consider, despite how devastated you may be feeling; your child is undoubtedly feeling worse. Their whole world has been turned upside down and particularly young children cannot comprehend the reasons for this. Therefore it is particularly important to let them know that both parents still love them dearly and the separation was nothing to do with regards to your feelings towards them. My son still struggles with his parents being divorced and I still feel guilty that he may suffer some ill effects of being a child of separated parents. I feel that I was unable to prevent the hurt he must have experienced, however I try my best to make the situation as easy as possible for him. I want him to grow up feeling secure and loved by all of his family.

Life goes on and what is important is learning from these past relationships. I have learnt to be more cautious, but not to stop living. I have learnt that you need to trust again in order to move forward. I have learnt that there is no point in feeling guilty for something that you had no control over and finally I have learnt that every moment is precious. Things can change in a blink of an eye and so enjoy the present, laugh, love, experience the pain and the joy of living; it is how we know we are truly alive.

How to love again

No matter how hard we try, emotional baggage always seems to crop up when we least expect it. We think we have dealt with all of our emotional issues, and then suddenly we’re hit round the head like a ton of bricks.

For me, one of the biggest issues I have had to face was learning to trust again. And I think that it’s dealing with these issues that makes the prospect of starting a new relationship appear more frightening. Anyone who has made it to their late twenty’s unscathed by some sort of emotional baggage from a previous relationship is doing pretty darn well in my personal opinion.

But what is it about starting a new relationship that is so scary? We are told that each relationship is different. Just because something has happened to us once isn’t a predictor that it will happen again. And yet many of us are reluctant to start again. Or if we do, we kid ourselves that it isn’t serious, it’s just a bit of fun.

I think that the fear comes from exposing our vulnerabilities to another. As much as we pretend not to have them (we are invincible after all), we all have those tiny fractures within our core that once we get close enough to another person, inevitably start to show. And so it’s easier to keep that distance, to create the walls that will protect us from getting hurt or widening those fractures into cracks that we’re worried we will be unable to repair.

I am the first one to admit that in my more recent relationships, as soon as they appeared to be becoming serious I instantly became cool and distant. This wasn’t because my feelings had changed, but more as a self-preservation technique, to protect my heart from being chipped away at any more than I felt it already had been.

It took some soul-searching, but finally I found the courage to explain to my (now) husband, Michael, what I was doing and the reasons as to why I was doing it. Thankfully, he had the patience to wait it out, until I would let myself get a little closer before pulling back again. This strange dance is still continuing now, and Michael still patiently rides out the rhythm of it with me, waiting for me to feel safe and draw closer to him again. At times I am terrified by how much I love him, because of the power that inevitably gives him over me. Then I remember that I have confidence in him and the way he feels towards me and that means trusting that he will not hurt me.

I think learning to love again is never easy, I think it takes time and patience. But I do believe that when you meet the right person, you will be able to break down the walls with which you’ve surrounded yourself, and expose your fractures and breaks, and finally, with a bit of time and love, you will be able to glue the pieces back together again.

Childhood is short

‘Mummy’ my little boy said to me as I put his bedtime story book down on the nightstand and snuggled into bed next to him for a goodnight cuddle.

‘Yes baby?’

‘Can I tell you something?’ he said putting a small chubby hand on each of my cheeks and turning my head to face him, looking deep into my eyes.

I smiled and stroked his hair off his forehead, thinking how sweet it was to feel his warm breath on my face and smell the syrupy fragrance from his bubble bath on his skin. ‘Of course you can’.

‘Can you take me to see the fireworks this year? I don’t want to go with the Beavers and Brownies, I want to be with you’

The look in his eyes made my breath catch in my throat and my heart skipped a beat. I knew I had been working a lot recently and I hadn’t realized just how much my little boy had missed me.

I promised him then and there that I would clear my schedule so we could have a family night at the bonfire and firework display, before kissing him and heading downstairs.

I thought back to all of the family occasions I had missed out on taking my son to over the last four years due to work commitments. Birthdays, Easter egg hunts, Christmas Pantomimes, I hadn’t even managed to celebrated a mother’s day with him yet. An unexpected sadness crushed my chest. I wished I could make it up to him, I always tried to spend my days off doing activities that he would enjoy, but I often worked at weekends so that wasn’t always possible. I remembered all the firsts I had missed. I had missed his first steps, his stay and play days at nursery, I had even had to ask the teacher if we could rearrange his parent teacher evening to a different night. I had always managed to make it to the big events, the nativity play, or sports afternoon, but he noticed my absence drastically from daily life and often asked when I would next have a free day to take him and collect him from school.

I need to work in order to pay the bills, however I want my son to look back on his childhood and be able to remember the fun times we shared as a family. I want him to remember the trips to the beach where the sea was cold and we built the huge sandcastle that the dog then knocked down, crunching on tiny grains of sand in our picnic sandwiches. I want him to remember carving pumpkins on crisp autumn nights and the dark cold Christmas mornings when filled with excitement we ran down the stairs to see if Santa had been. And I want him to remember the Guy Fawkes nights where we stood on the damp muddy ground in the park with sparklers, stamping our feet to stay warm and listening to the crowd ‘oooh’ and ‘aaahh’ as explosions of colour erupt over our heads.

Sometimes I have to remind myself to take a step back from the rush of everyday life and appreciate the little moments. The feel of the tiny soft hand, fragile in my own, the chubby arms wrapped tight around my neck holding me so tight, and the sweet mornings when my son wakes me as dawn breaks just to be close to me. It’s not always easy to do when there is always one more chore to be done or I crave an hours extra sleep. But childhood is short, and soon my son will no longer need me as he does now, and so I will be grateful for every sleepless second and sacrifice I have to make for him.