It’s now been a whole year since Ex and I seperated. Sometimes it feels like I’m still getting use to being single and being able to make my own decisions and plans. But then I look at how much my life has changed and it’s hard to believe that it’s only been a year. This time last year I was living in his house, unemployed and not sure where I was going to live. I was a terrified stay-at-home mother facing an uncertain future. I was being shunted out of a life of financial security in to the abyss of child support and government assistance.
Today, I have a mortgage on my own home, which I am paying comfortably. I’m not especially well off, but I make it work and we don’t do without much. My relationship with Ex is much healthier and I’m thankful to be able to count him as a friend. Our children are doing fabulously and have shown resiliance that I never knew they were capbable of.
One of the biggest changes for me has been friendship. Ever since moving away from my friends and family 12 years ago, I have been isolated. This is partly self-imposed due to mental illness and low self-esteem, and partly because of a large age gap between Ex and myself. In the early years I was young, childless and lacked the life experience required to relate to the wives of his co-workers, so I gradually withdrew from social events. Then when I did have children, they kept me busy.
I never could stand the coffee groups that new mothers joined, I’m far too cynical. I’d have to bite my tounge when I saw a baby sucking on a rope of amber beads. I’d have to feign interest when a NatureGoddessEarthMother would lecture me on the importance of baby-wearing. I’ve have to fight of the urge to slap a bitch when someone looked down on me for not breast-feeding. All the while, I was habouring a dirty secret, that would reverberate in my head as I listened to all the cooing and crying and self-satisfied murmerings of Supermamas, “I hate all of you and your stupid sticky, smelly children”.
I’m not a social person, and I keep people at arms length, but I’ve made friends with my co-workers, who are an awesome bunch of badass women. I’ve also gained a few male friends which is nice, every girl needs guy friends.
One of my guy friends is living with me at the moment, which has been good for me, as I have a tendency to go in to hermit-mode if left alone for to long. His humour and stubborn refusal to be a grown-up are a useful offset to my grumpy disposition. It’s kind of like having my cake and eating it too. I have the benefits of having a man around the house, but because we’re not together, I don’t feel irritated and naggy when he comes home from a hard night bloodied, bruised and without his phone. Like he did today.
Long story short, he’s currently unconcious on the couch with two black eyes. I’m cool with that, because he’s not wearing pants. He has super sexy legs.