Things I learnt in 2012

It's been a while.

 

I have to say it's not because i don’t have things to write about... I have a huge amount to write about. It's because the things i do have to write about are fairly personal, and, well, probably some of them are slightly tactless, so I thought it was probably better to shut up for a bit. I thought I’d cover the lot on one post, then we can move on, rather like dealing with an aged, sour, vocally pissed aunt at Christmas.

 

I have previously written about my marriage, the struggles; highs and lows; the love; the change that a relationship goes through when it morphs from the heady, syrupy honeymoon period into the long term and bound union that so many women, and I used to include myself in there, think is the end goal: marriage. In February last year I decided that I no longer wanted to be in my marriage. I’m not going to go into the reasoning here, but it was a decision made after months if not a couple of years of agonising. In the 12 months since I left my husband I have learned a lot, changed quite a lot (not necessarily all for the better), but nobody said that uprooting what was in reality a fairly easy, and on the face of it content, existence, was ever going to be an easy ride.

 

10 Things amongst many more that I have learnt in the last 12 months.

 

1.      I never really considered the institution of marriage and what it meant to me until after I’d taken part in the ceremony. Awkward, especially as once I had considered it, I was fairly certain and alarmed fairly early on, that it was not right for me. I fought against that certainty for as long as possible, but in the end I couldn’t ignore it. This is definitely not the ideal thing to do, and I urge you to really investigate what being married means to a) you b) your partner and c) your girlfriends, before you get into it. Really. Do that. Maybe I’m the fool for not, but I just assumed that marriage was, well, the thing you do. It’s the next stage, right? I now know that I actually don’t want to be married. To anyone. Ever again. It’s just… not my bag. Marriage does not equate love, and therefore love does not have to end in marriage. But this, of course, is only my opinion for what I think. Everyone else – do whatever makes you happy, and if marriage and a wedding is that, then crack on.

2.      Couples therapy is probably one of the most harrowing experiences to go through if you are 100% sure that you know that you’ve made the right decision in leaving your partner, and the therapy essentially consists of the other two people in the room trying to persuade you that you are wrong. It is also a very expensive way to frustrate yourself. All that considered, it is 100% necessary as a vehicle for getting your ex to fully comprehend how serious you are about your decision to end things.

3.      Even if you are the one deciding to do the leaving, you will be deeply saddened by the end of your relationship. Probably silly, but that came as a shock to me.

4.      Your friends divide. Amazing people come out of the woodwork – people who you didn’t even think you were that close to, will rally round you and make you cry with laughter, and will be indignant with rage on your behalf while you mutter “Seriously, it’s fine…”,  or hug you hard while you weep with sadness. It’s unnerving and wonderful. Others will look uncomfortable and frown. They look worried and essentially tell you that you are wrong, in the nicest way possible. Ultimately, you need to be confident enough in what you are doing to defend your decision and accept that not everyone will think you are doing the right thing. If you still think that it is the right decision when your longest standing friends and loved ones are telling you it is the worst thing you’ve ever decided to do (worse than deciding to marry the wrong person in the first place) then you can almost certainly be sure that you are making a choice that is good for you in the long run. They just can’t see it yet, and don’t necessarily understand what good and happiness for you means.

5.      One day at a time, and you have to remember to breathe. There will be up days there will be low days, embrace and understand that all of the emotional fluxes are natural and ok. I am well aware that I sound like some kind of kaftan wearing, weed smoking, crazed hippy when I say this, but it’s true. Also, it may be because I learned this from my new found friends at my yoga class. These guys have been a constant source of strength, even when we don’t see each other for months at a time. Total babes.

6.      Make your world smaller for a while, while you survive for a bit. You have to pinpoint the important things and throw yourself into them as best you can, or it can all go horribly wrong.

7.      Focus on work. In the year I left my husband I worked (and played – more on that next) harder, faster, better, longer than ever before, got to work on two awesome projects, and ultimately got the promotion I’d been working towards for 18 months. Nothing like a bit of soul sorrow to focus the mind on your job.

8.      Drink and drugs are not the answer. Partying is fun; drinking is fun. It is completely understandable that when people feel “free” for the first time in years they go a little bit hell for leather. However, being a mum that drinks like a fish most of the time and takes drugs sometimes, is to say the least frowned upon or tolerated by your fellow partiers, and at most investigated by social services. The “everything in moderation mantra” can quickly and easily spiral to everything in a bit more than moderation, til you seem permanently hungover and grumpy, a shadow of your former self when you’re not drunk/high, and people are bitching about you, and probably rightfully, questioning your abilities as a parent. Finally you realise the gravity of what’s going on when family members are crying at you, not quite saying out loud, “JUST STOP DRINKING A BOTTLE OF RED PLUS A NIGHT, AND HOOFING THE CHARLIE, OK?!” but making obvious insinuations about you “poisoning your body with toxinS”. I’ve had my fun. I’m not particularly proud of some of the stuff I’ve done on my non-parenting time, but when you finally make a conscious decision to stop all that crap, it’s like a fog lifts, the scales shift and suddenly the really 100% important stuff, like your family, your house being a non-hovel, fitness, baking, reading books that make you guffaw on the tube, finally getting your glasses sorted… all the stuff that makes life lovely and what it is… is actually important again.  Much more important that “Who can I get blitzed with this evening?”.

9.      Self-awareness is difficult when you’re in a period of gross transition and fogged with toxinS, and you have to be kind to yourself, and accept that.

10.  If you can stay on good terms with your ex then do. I am lucky enough that my ex and I get on pretty well now. 12 months on, after a disastrously harrowing and tense yet hilarious (in a, if you don’t laugh you will most definitely cry yourself to DEATH kind of way) holiday to northern Spain, screaming at each other down the phone, endless tearful conversations about our polarised views of our now historical relationship, we are in a place where there is mutual respect and cooperation. We keep it together for our beautiful and wonderful son. We had Christmas together this year, we took him to Peppa Pig world on the august bank holiday (FYI NEVER DO THAT – 3 hours queues, and more people per square metre than the Saturday at Glastonbury, but 50% of the crowd are under 3. NIGHTMARE) and spent our boy’s birthday together. We are feeling our way towards an essentially forlorn but friendly co-parenting situation. It’s not easy, but if you can achieve being able to spend time together then you 100% should aim for it.

 

I could go on, for ages actually – I have learned other stuff, like I have an uncanny ability to get parking tickets, no matter what I do to try to stop them. I have learned to use a power drill and how to date (badly) again…But the above 10 points cover the most important lessons I’ve learned in the past 12 months. Here’s to an equally insightful, hopefully happier 2013.