Tag Archives: hopes

Rose Coloured Oakley Shades

I’ve been single now for a little over 2 years. After the whole, sell the home, find somewhere to live while downsizing a shared life was over I came to realise that I actually enjoyed having folks call to MY home. for saleA friend dropping by for coffee is not an inconvenience, in fact it alot of times is a welcomed distraction. Before I had been so programmed to the ‘drama’ it would create will an unscheduled visit from someone, that would interrupt my exes TV schedule, or mean she might have to socialise with someone she wouldn’t normally have chosen to socialise with.
I found myself having an internal eyeroll and shake of the head, when I thought of the hoops I’d allow myself to be pushed through. They had became an automatic response. I had any amount of instant excuses on stand and I never thought they would actually be something I would have to consciously work at silencing, or just ignoring.

I am very fortunate, that I have been able to rekindle alot of friendships and I am blessed that our conversations revolve around such important issues as to were we should go for coffee or when the next Season of Game Of Thrones starts!coffee

It would seem my relationship status whether in real life or on Facebook has become a new topic now my friends feel the obligatory time period has passed. I find this strange as it hasn’t been in the fore front of my mind at all (grins) I have been managing a coffee schedule, a new puppy, doggy daycare etc etc Spending any romantic time with another human seems complicated and filled with potholes and hidden traps.
Would they like my dogs? My tortoises? Yeah life altering, deep questions! I am very content with my own company and that or my beasties. I will admit to surprising myself with the second glance at someone and remembering I didn’t have any reason to feel guilty about this. Twenty Six years in a relationship was habit forming and would take a little getting used to.

Recently though, I am less concerned about feeling guilty and more worried that I will slip into old habits. An ex from a VERY long time ago has made contact on Instagram. We split before Facebook, Thank God, as I swore I would never want to ‘add’ her as I didn’t need or want the hurt that might go with seeing her new significant other etc etc
In the little hours of the morning I have found myself stalking her instagram, or feverishly checking mine. To the extent it pissed me off so much I deleted the damn app. This lasted a couple of months, I decided I was a big girl and would add it back with less fervour to want to stalk her. Strangely she started liking a few posts of mine and I became aware how this was creating ghost picture perfect recollections of the time we had together. I have subsequently reminded myself of the more unpleasant times and normal service as resumed. I pause here to laugh because twenty minutes ago I just checked it!!!! For any posts not just hers I feel I should add.

I don’t know if she’s single, or anything else and truthfully I don’t care to, but it surprised me how easily I would sway towards something familiar. I ADORE having my own place, freedom and lack of drama or even accountability. That might all change but for now it’s something I am revelling in. The lightning bolt of her contact out of the blue took me unawares and I am so pleased it was through an app and not in person as my reserves may not have been so stalwart.

I’ve changed, what I want has changed and what I will settle for has truthfully gone 360 degrees. So much so that some friends believe my outlook unrecognisable from a few years ago, all in a good way. The last thing I want or need is someone or something that is familiar or I remember with Rose coloured glasses to upset the very content albeit puppy ravaged life I have.rose

SOOOO what have I decided? 
To window shop when someone catches my eye is free and for the moment browsing is all I am interested in. That might change tomorrow or next week or the month after but for now I’m all set. The rose coloured glasses or ‘Oakley shades’ that I remember her with (excluding anything negative) is just that, a powerful, emotive memory that I will and do allow myself an indulgence of occasionally but not a path I want to repave or start to recreate.

Bizarrely I don’t feel any wiser for these realizations or that I have somehow gained some age related profound way of thinking. Just the opposite, I’m waking not knowing or wanting to know what the day might bring, outside of coffee plans and I’m good with that.

Would I change anything?
Only the part of Hogwarts slippers my new puppy is currently happily chewing. Yellow Labrador Retriever pup, 8 weeks old, chewing a child's shoeEverything else has made and moulded me into who I am today. Memories of my ex or exes are just that, memories. Just like the unfortunate memory of throwing up on your 7th Birthday party or the welcome memory of our last trip together they will always be with me.

Whether or not I chose to berate myself with them or welcome their lessons like an old familiar tune remains to be seen.


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Filed under 2018

Mourning For ‘The What Ifs’

For almost 6 months now I have been single and have experienced everything from guilt, emotional pain, remorse, despair but yet I have slowly come to the realization that the overwhelming emotion I have been battling in my dreams, the strange ache in the pit of my stomach is not for the loss of a 26 year relationship, or a woman I once loved, but it is grief.

Grief and mourning for the children I will never get to hold, the little hands that wont reach up around my neck when they’re tired or afraid. Lately my sleep has been interspersed with mini movie reels of what I have always secretly yearned for but chose to not pursue for a myriad of reasons, not least that my ex didn’t want children, and in fact didn’t even like to be around little people.

It was not a decision I came to lightly. When we met I was 16 and never thought that I would be loved by anyone, never thought a same sex relationship would be tolerated in the tiny country village in which I live.
In my mind I always pictured an old fashioned brass weighing scale, where on one side there were kids, marriage, family life etc and on the other a same sex relationship with someone I loved, who loved me. Depending on my mood, the scales balance would shift daily.

It never occurred to me that I could have both, or that 10, 20 years later I could still have had both. The first few years of our relationship were spent hiding, trying to be safe and keep each other safe. Knowing that we had huge targets on our back, but it was the 2 of us against the world. We would be the ones to make it and show them all.

I’ve worked with and volunteered with children for as long as I can remember. A room full of little people at a Birthday party I delighted in. Folks telling me that I should be a Teacher or work with special needs kids as I seemed to have a talent or knack for it, while pleasing to hear, simply hurt. Each time it was mentioned I wanted to explain why these little kids were my pure joy, but I doubt anyone would have taken me seriously. I will never forget reading about Hans Christen Anderson, this amazing storyteller found his audience with children, quite by accident. He discovered they listened to him without judgement or mockery when he told his magical tales, and to them it didn’t matter that he suffering from a debilitating stammer. I can still recall the book in my hands, how the ink smelled, the picture of him sitting at a fountain with a gaggle of eager little people hanging on his every word, my tears fell silently onto the beautiful illustration, because in that instant it was as if they were writing about me.

It wasn’t because I had a talent with children, it was that they had patience for me. One goofy adult who would play their games, listen to their stories, answer their questions and never seen a frown or judgement when I stuttered or stumbled over a word or got too excited and couldn’t string 2 words together.

I used to daydream of a ‘normal’ life, the kind you would see in a 1950’s ad for the perfect home, white picket fence, you get the picture. Alas the reality was just the opposite, we had to live a life that was simply fraught with anxiety, stress and secrecy. Only now it has occurred to me that for almost all of our relationship the only safe place was inside our home, behind locked doors. The result of which was we were either so exhausted from the pretence that when we got home we collapsed and dozed in front of the tv or did ‘our’ own things or we forgot that it was safe to be close with each other, affectionate with each other.

Tonight I watched by new Great Niece coo and blow bubbles as my Sister held her. I adore this child, and love seeing her change daily and watch my Niece become the most amazing Mother, but it also causes me a little hurt, or pang of the ‘what ifs’.

I know that I could foster, volunteer in any number of ways, but for now I think I need to spend a little time working through this new found emotion that has manifested itself in dreams etc.

While I make peace with the choices I made, the decisions I felt were the correct ones at the time, I get to watch this new human being, grow, change and become everything she can be. My new start, new place to live will also be blessed with a ring side seat of being involved in this little ladies life and getting to watch her blossom.
I’ll also be able to tell her stories of her Mom growing up, how alike they are, and how at one of the lowest points in my life she taught me to revel in the little things. To enjoy the smiles, to blow bubbles and to sing silly songs because it makes us both happy.

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Filed under March 2013