It has taken me years to update this blog. I have thought about doing so many times but life has well and truly got in the way, until today. As I come up to the final few days before I go on maternity leave with my second child and no step-children!
We were together almost four years before I broke up with him. I felt like a mother in our relationship, rather than part of a team. We had very different interests and values and I was staying because I felt a duty of care to him. I ended up moving out and staying with an old school friend for a few months. During which time, lockdown had opened up a bit and the only other person I knew that had a breakup in their thirties, was a colleague of mine, Max.
Max and I were work friends for a couple of years and had a lot in common in terms of our upbringing. We would also be the ones who left the bar last and offloaded our relationship woes onto eachother, though Max actually encouraged me to stick it out and make things work with my ex, because, after all, lockdown was a whole different situation that no one had ever experienced before. I really tried. The straw that broke the camels back for me was when my grandad had a heart attack; I packed my bags and jumped in the car to drive to Devon to see him.
I returned to London and broke up with my ex. It was hard. He went through a bout of depression after his breakup but was coming out of the other side and was a huge crutch for me. He encouraged me to go out and do things for myself, and we planned a summer of fun now that lockdown was ending. I had a cottage in the Cotwolds then, in which I went on my own to visit and get some down time to think.
I took some time and moved in with my friend while I figured out my next step in terms of a more permanent living situation. A lot. I felt a connection and was totally surprised by how quickly I saw him in a different light. We went to bars again, I was out a lot- any chance I got for brunch, drinks, catch ups, I was there.
