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Shouldn't this be getting easier?

I had the opportunity to speak to a couple of my friends who were single mums in the months before I moved out of the marital home.  They said "it's hard, it's lonely, but you can do it".  I didn't think that I would get lonely. I thought that I would be glad to be able to do what I wanted, queen of the remote control, able to make her own rules and do whatever she likes.

That's the great part, and the shitty part. Because, whatever decision I make, I do it alone.  I mean, I have my faith in God, and I have my family, and I have my friends....but never before have I had a keener sense that I am on my own in life.  That there is nobody to roll their eyes and grudgingly take care of me. That there is nobody to surprise me by doing something nice.  That there is nobody that I immediately put down on my "in case of emergency" form.  That I am a single mum and I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life.  And, stupidly, even though I'm a feminist, I didn't feel like I had to really answer that question before.  Because I guess, even though I didn't realise it, I had a certain amount of reassurance and pride in the fact that I was married.  That someone loved me enough to put a piece of jewellery on my finger that cost a lot of money.  That all the times I'd cried and wailed about being all alone were a lie. Someone loved me enough to be my forever.

And that's something that I'm grieving. The fact that there are lots and lots of other single mums who understand exactly what I'm going through, the worry and the fear that you're doing the wrong thing. The certainty at times that what you are doing is right, and that the reasons why the relationship ended are enough, that your children would want you to be true to yourself and to follow your own path.  But then, your own path feels lonely and sad and you think you'll be OK....but you're not sure. What then?

Well, I guess I feel the feelings.  When I was in my twenties I used to wear awful, toe crushing, high heels, and one week I wore the same pair to work and walked after work in them.  Because they were so uncomfortable, they ended up turning my toenails black.  Pretty gross, but there's a metaphor in there, if you'll let me extract it.  When you first put something that isn't right for you on, it doesn't hurt that much.  But if you walk for days and days and weeks and years, then it ends up hurting a lot and changing the shape of your foot (life).  Sometimes you long for the shoes that you once wore, because let's face it, foot friendly shoes are never as attractive as the ones that are toe destroying and bunion causing.  Sometimes you forget, and go to buy a pair of those shoes, but then you realise that they end up hurting your foot because they're not good for you.  I only wear sensible shoes these days, because it's not worth the discomfort of being in something that is bad for me and will end up causing me more pain later on.  I truly believe that my ex is a wonderful, good, loving man, but that we have damaged each other too much, no one more so than me.....so no matter how much it hurts or how much I want this to not be my life at times....I just have to keep walking in these new shoes.  Maybe one day, I'll even get to long term like them.  It's such early days. And Christmas was brutal.  To hear my son talk about his holiday away and to not know anything about it, and to not be able to press him for details because it is none of my business.....that's bloody hard work.

I can't sleep at the moment, due to a combination of emotions and this yucky hot weather.  One of my biggest fears is that my ex will die while we are apart and it will be all my fault.  Crazy thinking, I know.  But I still love him. I still wish him well. I want him to be happy. I want to not have hurt him.  But, just for today, all I can do is be where I am, and to trust my journey.

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