What a day.

View from the top 🙂

Today started in a bad place- he rang- I answered- I tried to be strong and pretend not to be moved by him- but as soon as I hung up I cried- a lot. I’m over crying now if I’m honest, it’s getting irksome after 6 weeks.

I nearly cancelled running but I’m glad I didn’t- it wasn’t fast or pretty but the company was amazing. We had to change our route as they are doing forestry work on the decent down Sharphaw- wish we had known before going that way as it meant running up the steep side- not welcome.

On the way back we unfortunately encountered an absolute dick head- an absolute wanker. He was supervising a sponsored walk organised by the local girls school. He decided to shout at my friend and and I, laughing at our form, calling us “girls” even doing impressions of us. How utterly abhorrent a message to send to the young women he was with. It’s 2021 and still we are expected to put up with this. He is the reason many woman are too scared to get out and run- fear of catcalls and ridicule- and he chose to do just that in front of the future generation of women.

I wrote a post on a local page and, as expected, was called a snowflake. Told I was too sensitive- that it was “banter” and I was orchestrating a witch hunt- not sure I expected anything else

As for him.. he is still insisting he is doing the therapy and CBT, and I get it, I get 100% what he is saying- I stupidly met him for coffee today. He seems to be genuine- but it still feels so bloody manipulative. I also found two of the women who’s photos he had on his phone and they confirmed that they were really old Tinder photos and they hadn’t been on for at least two years- as he said, they were old photos.. one also said she deleted Tinder but when she updated her phone it reinstalled- something he said had happened to him..

That’s not to say my opinion has changed- he still cheated on his ex wife- several times.. he still was in a relationship when we first met and didn’t tell me. He lied about women he was in contact with and had relationships with.

Even though this was before me it still doesn’t sit comfortably- the fact he has never been faithful. Having said that when M and I met I was in a relationship, so am I any better than him?

The difference is that I was honest- completely and unfailingly honest. I didn’t manipulate and, by Ms own admission, abuse him. I was lovely, simply lovely. I wouldn’t treat my worse enemy the way he treated me, or the women before me. Had he said “you know what Claire, I’ve been a bit of a lad” I would have approached the relationship with much trepidation but I think I would still have seen him. It’s the dishonesty which is his downfall.

You shouldn’t have to lie to get someone to love you- I never have. I like to think I am honest about my flaws- I can be selfish, stand off ish- I can be a terrible friend- needy one minute and then pushing away the next. I struggle when people put expectations on me. But people will love me regardless, because of my honesty. My warmth, my humour.

Mortgage appointment tomorrow. I need a safe distance from him. I need my own space. Only then will I have a clear head, a clear vision of my future and who that may involve

Do not cross…

Givers need to set limits because takers rarely do. ― Rachel Wolchin

My counsellor has reached a point with me where he thinks completely taking me to bits, to revisit my traumas is the way toward my healing- however he is still hesitant to do so until I’m in a safe space, ie less stressed, taking better care of myself physically (I’ve gone from starving to binging), and with my mortgage documents signed. He says I seem very physiologically grounded, adept at knowing my own “whys” but not so good at implementing the things I need to. I am, for want of a better phrase, a people pleaser.

I have spent a long time evaluating myself, not blaming, that is completely the wrong word- but trying to figure out why I let my boundaries be so broken down, obliterated by M. And I realise now, it was because actually I’m terrible at setting them. And this failure to set boundaries, my hard and soft limits- is what has led me to many many situations where my needs are not being met. Where I feel “put out”, taken advantage of and used. Couple this with my willingness to shoulder the burden and take the blame, even when I know it’s not my fault, and we have a recipe for low self esteem

This isn’t just prevalent in my romantic life, but with my children, work, friendships, even my parents. My desire to not hurt people only leads to my hurting myself

A huge red flag flag at the start of M and is relationship was one morning I failed to reply to his morning text, it was not deliberate, I read it bleary eyed on the way to the loo, then I stuck my shoes on and walked the dog in my PJs- forgetting to reply and leaving my phone in the bathroom. When I got back and rang him, he was cold. One word answers, annoyed with me- I found myself apologising! Making excuses. In reality I was annoyed, I was angry. How dare he? I loved him, I had told him so much before I went to bed- I should not have had to explain myself for prioritising my time over texting him. I wonder if I had said that to him at the time he would have respected that? Or reacted with anger and aggression? It was actually the first sign of affection withdrawal as a form of punishment which would become so common place .going forward anyone in my life is going to know that that’s not acceptable, that my time is MORE important to me than theirs- just like it should be in reverse.

There was a mistake in the book at work on Saturday, one which left me probably losing a couple of clients. It wasn’t my mistake- so why was my automatic response to feel guilty? To feel like I had to offer up my valuable free time and for free because of someone else’s mistake? I know that had my boss taken me up on my offer (he didn’t even ask it was 100% me) I would have felt resentful, bitter- even more exhausted than I currently do- so why was I so eager to put myself in a situation where I would feel that way?

My inability to say “no” has led to me becoming overwhelmed with the weight of other people’s expectations- it’s led to me cancelling plans with people last minute- losing their friendship. It’s led to me having toxic relationships and friendships. I’ve had sex with people I didn’t want to have sex with, gone in dates with people I don’t want to, I’ve cancelled pre booked holiday at work because someone else wanted it off, I’ve had two lesbian flings- despite being straight, because I didn’t want to hurt them- hell, I even got married because I couldn’t say no!

My project this week is not to say “no” that’s too big of a leap, it’s to say “that’s sound great, thanks for the invite, can I let you know?” Then take the time to decide if o do or don’t want to do the thing, rather than saying “yes” instantly and letting people down when I can’t face it.

W also spoke about my need for adoration… but that’s a whole other session and a whole other blog 😂

Back to running :)

Windswept and interesting 😂

I’ve a confession, I’ve not been running. I’ve spent hours in bed on my days off, not engaging with anyone. I think in part because I am worn out but also a bit peopled out. My job means talking for 12 hours a day, telling people about my break up over and over again. It makes it real, but sometimes reality is impossible

My Instagram came to be when my ex suggested that if I started talking about my running, became a run focused page I could get loads of followers and maybe get some rep- it would give me something to focus on while furloughed. Apparently I’m an “attractive woman” and would get “loads of attention”. It always struck me as odd that someone so possessive and prone to jealousy would say this- but it soon became apparent that it was something else to weaponise against me. But will save this for another day- this post is not about him..

I became “good at Instagram”. At first it was a positive force in my running. Posting about my runs forced me to push myself further, longer and tougher trails, getting faster. And yep, I loved the validation when I was told I was pretty or stunning- what woman heading towards 40 wouldn’t 🤷‍♀️

But as I slipped further and further into this well of anxiety Insta became a negative- if my run was slower than usual I would find myself apologising to me “fans”(my daughters words 😂), making up excuses as to why I had underperformed. I felt guilty if I didn’t run that day, like I was letting people down. Like I had to explain myself. I stopped pushing for fear of failure

Instagram was such a negative thing in my relationship too. He would, as I mentioned, use it against me in various ways- but the reality is that your relationship is never healthy if you both have your heads in your phones double clicking a strangers photos while your relationship crumbles around you. I think it makes you dissatisfied with your own life- it’s hard to view your partner, who you see warts and all, who lives in smelly Lycra, no make up. Who has hairy bits and rolls and imperfections, as the perfect person for you- when you are constantly comparing her (or him) to airbrushed perfection. You want what they have (he has).

Today I used insta for good, I’ve been chatting to lots of different people on there over the last few weeks and believe I have made some genuine friends. Andy (Yorkshire Runner) came over this morning and ran up Sharphaw with me. And despite me buggering off ahead it was lovely to have company.

I love Sharphaw, but since M left I have attempted it 2/3 times in my own and given up before I even reached the bottom, overwhelmed with this random anxiety at the climb ahead- but today I powered up, probably because I only ran 50 miles in April compared to 120-30 the previous months. I felt like I had a new spring in my step. Andy said I was a natural runner- something I’m used to hearing but always struggle to accept.

Hopefully this is a huge step in my recovery- I’ve also had an offer accepted on a house- which is even bigger but I’m struggling to write about it as it feels somewhat bittersweet- I’m so in love with my home now, it’s going to be hard to lose it- but I need the space and sanctuary of a fresh start.

Sometimes, the best views follow the hardest climbs.

Out out… kinda

Last night I made huge progress. I went out. I put make up on, did my hair- hell, I even shaved my legs! I felt nice. My friend came up to the house, her partner disappeared with my dog, and we went “into town”..

It was so odd, we managed to get a table at the Albion and ordered some beers- before my teen, in a tiny dress, joined us. The Albion was where him and I used to spend many an illicit half hour after work. We stopped there a few times for a beer after cycling or walking- and I was proud that this didn’t send me into a tail spin. In fact, it felt fine.

We wandered up to two sisters at 8, in search of food- there are rumours they do amazing pizza- unfortunately they stop serving at 6.30 so we settled on Rocky road and brownie 😂 Fi was meant to be joining us after work at 9.30 but it was bloody freezing! Everyone else was drunk and we were hungry and cold- the decision was made to get some pizzas- Fi’s husband owns a takeaway- and all go back to mine.

It was lovely. The 5 of us sat round, drinking, eating delicious food, and putting the world to rights- I got a few cold hard slaps of reality in the face, which I definitely needed. My daughter told me she had planned to move in with a friend had M and I not ended, my son was going to live with his dad- so upset he was at hearing me cry all the time. My daughter also told me conversations she had had with Ms sons, where they had said they felt uncomfortable in the house, like there was always a competition between my kids and his, who were better- a horrible atmosphere, they hated how M took everything out on me. This sense of competition was something I had related to him on several occasions but was dismissed, like most of my worries, so it was actually good to hear that his boys had felt it too

I admitted that I was still in fairly regular contact with him, that I was struggling to break the bond. It’s always hard ending a relationship with someone you love, especially when there has been a trauma bond develop, I definitely relied on him to give me self worth, my life revolved around him- I’ve realised, that if I don’t cut contact then I’m still in a relationship with him, I’m never going to be able to move on, find happiness and potentially a healthy loving relationship with someone worthy of me. There is this corner in my mind where I’m hopeful he can change, that acknowledges he is damaged, mentally ill. That actually acknowledges the anger issues as something which he was dealing with- but that doesn’t explain the cheating, the lying, the manipulation.

He is never going to be capable of being faithful, and I am never going to be able to turn a blind eye to infidelity.

I actually recorded him ranting at me on the phone, before the “I’m so sorry I can change” stuff started. I listen to him, telling me that yes he had been a shit to me, but that actually it was my fault, or his exes fault- anyone but his own. When I get those pangs of loss at he lack of contact from him, I listen to him telling me he was justified in throwing coffee because it was next to me, not at me. That he was within his rights to threaten to break my arms because I had not let him leave the room- I admit I didn’t, I stood in his way and tried to hold him, because I was scared at his irrationality, the fact he had been drinking and was going to go off in his car. I listen to these videos and remember how I would shrink in on myself, tell him how I would do better- apologise for my short comings, just to appease him for whatever minor offence had set him off.

I was so frightened of him, that sounds crazy because he never actually hit me, and often he would make me feel so safe and protected. But his sudden shifts in mood were so unpredictable. Leaving me feeling like the eg was pulled from underneath my feet but that it was somehow my fault for falling.

So the lack of contact and communication is jarring, I’m feeling bereaved once more- but it’s what I have to do for me, my children and also him. While I’m his focus, his infatuation, while his goal is us, he isn’t actually going to address his issues, and if there IS any hope for him, he needs help .

Can a leopard ever change his spots, or does he just get better at hiding them?

And would you invite them into your home if they appeared to have done so?

He has been having CBT, he claims it’s like suddenly he sees- he has been consumed by anger and anxiety, mixed with a good ole dose of depression. He has shared the flash cards given to him by the CBT therapist and it certainly fits the him I knew. Angry- consumed by it. Seeing malicious intent in the most minor offences- for example a child walking past clean laundry and not taking it upstairs. Reacting by withdrawing aggressively, seeking revenge, attacking others.

It fits, it 100% fits- but he still blames me and my children for that anger. Not recognising that his response to these minor indiscretions was disproportionate. Not realising that yes, Emmie’s room was a bloody mess, but she is kind. She spends hours on her own drawing. She is literally no bother at all. Izzy? Well she is a messy cow, she answers back, she is super dizzy and forgetful- but you know what? She works two jobs, she messaged her grandparents on both sides, plus her step dads mum, at least once a week during this pandemic to check they were ok. When her friends need her, she is there. Hell, she has been incredibly supportive of me these last few weeks even though I’m a bloody mess!

Cole is just a people pleaser, he will do anything you ask pretty much without question. He would have loved for M to take him under his wing, take him into the Lake District, show him how to use a compass and map. Take him wild camping. Cole has been sat at my side most nights since M left. Chatting to me. I missed it. Much as I miss Ms arms wrapped around me on the sofa, I am relishing this time with my children.

My children would never forgive me if I took him back. They saw their funny, ambitious confident mum, who was always singing in the kitchen, dancing, making inappropriate jokes, turn into a angst fuelled shell- who couldn’t do right for doing wrong. They were miserable when he was here. I couldn’t put them back into that.

I fully acknowledge that my parenting style can be avoidant. I’m terrible at the home schooling thing, it literally sent me into a blind panic and I left them to it, Cole got on with it, Emmie not so much- but when I did try to help her the push back was crazy! It felt too much. I’m also rubbish at following through on stuff- I grew up in a shouty house, full of arguments and fist fights- my sister once hit me on the head with an iron, my brother chased me through the house with a rolling pin and smashed a door- I once bit my sisters arm so hard I drew blood, beat my brother black and blue- mum and dad were often having physical fights, or emotional ones, us caught in the middle. It scares me. It makes me let things go with my children which I should pick them up on. But I’ve always shown them they are loved, something I neglected while i was so wrapped up in pleasing him.

His reasoning, that he was suffering from anxiety and anger, that he was depressed. Being stuck in because of Covid might well ring true were it not for some factors.

He was exactly the same with his ex wife- we compared notes. He would do precisely the same to her as he did to me. Affection withdrawal, stone walling, joy stealing, gas lighting- messaging other women, even going on holiday with another woman while with her! There was no Covid then… there was no poor parenting from me..

He treated another ex appallingly! Actually starting a relationship with me, moving in with me! While still in a relationship with her! Telling her that her questioning him on the nature of our relationship was pushing him away and he needed space! How bloody cruel, to both of us! There was no Covid then either…

He lied to me continuously throughout our relationship- at the start about his ex wife and how their relationship has ended- he told me that she had cheated and abused him- neither true. He lied to me about his relationship with another woman, the one who crossed over with me- again, no Covid then either..

He had a police caution for harassment of his ex! Which he got the day he kissed me for the first time- you guessed it, no Covid..

He lied about reconnecting with his ex wife, made me feel like I was going mad- that I was needy- when I confronted him. He also reconnected with the girlfriend- and had messaged another woman telling her he was turned in by long hair and then arranging to meet her- on a day I was sobbing and begging him to talk to me, spend time with me.

So can a leopard change its spots? I don’t know. The evidence says no. Much as my heart is actually aching for the good times some days. No matter how Much I know I’m lying to myself when I say I don’t love him- I did/do love the good side he presented- but I can’t live with all the other shit. It’s too high a price to pay.

I know he needs a new challenge to boost his ego. I know that I would never be enough for him, not because I’m not worthy, but because unfortunately in life drudgery takes over, and that’s when love is tested. When there a day to day drudgery. He would be off with the first, (long dark haired) woman to catch his eye. I would never relax. I would never believe him and would spend my life second guessing his every action. Life is too short for that. It’s too big of a risk for me to take.

I have to stand bloody strong. Listen to my head and not my heart (and vagina). The pangs of loss will get easier, I will be able to think about the possibility of falling in love again one day., not yet, definitely not yet, but I won’t die old and lonely, a spinster. I’m only 39, I’m a bit too young to be swearing in for a life of celibacy 😂

Every runners worse nightmare..

After 8 days of feeling like death warmed up on these anti “slit my wrists” pills I finally started feeling a bit brighter today. I decided I was going put my running gear on, stop making excuses and run..

All was going well until I hit the canal- all of a sudden I felt it, that cramping sensation which says “all is not well…”.. I obviously ignored it, like any self respecting runner, hoping it would just disappear.. it didn’t! Luckily my mum lives on my running route, so I managed to dive in and save myself the embarrassment of waddling home three miles, butt cheeks clenched. Maybe my “on toast”, made up of predominantly beans, diet is to blame, but my money is on the pills I’m taking just to get me through the day.

Hello lollipop head.. and very white legs..

I felt much brighter today than yesterday. Yesterday I walked into town with Cole and the dog and became completely overwhelmed. I went home and lay in bed, sobbing, but also trying to watch Line of Duty- I haven’t a clue what’s going on, but I don’t think that’s down to my cotton wool head, just an overly complicated plot- if anyone wishes to write me a comprehensive list of what all the abbreviations mean I would be more than happy 😃

“He” is still begging my forgiveness. Saying he will change, that he is getting help. I still just see a narcissist who has been rejected by the object of his infatuation. It’s not real love. He lost me. He lost my humour, my wit, my passion, my intellect. He lost my softness, something I only bestow on a select few he lost an amazing thing. He is buying me out the house. I would be lying if I said the thought of his next conquest drinking coffee in my bedroom and looking out over my views didn’t make me feel a bit sick, but then I remember how bloody miserable I was at times, how many times I sat looking at the light change over that view while crying, even contemplating ending my life- I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

I keep reminding myself that this will all come out in the wash. Everything happens for a reason. He came into my life for a purpose, to teach me some sort of lesson about myself- it will soon become clear what that was, even if I can’t see it yet.

This struggling malarkey is getting irksome


I’m trying. I’m trying so bloody hard.

I’ve still not really slept, I’ve not run since last Saturday- being back at work is tough. I’m not sure if it’s the anti anxiety medication the doctors put me on, the situation or a combination of both, but I feel like a zombie. An absolute zombie.

The house goes to best and final offers tomorrow- I feel like that will give me the motivation to stop moping and start being proactive. I have so much to do- sort the bills, a 10am meeting with my solicitor tomorrow, find somewhere for the children and I to live. Figure out how I’m going to juggle the dog, working long hours, the kids- get Izzy the help she desperately needs before she goes off to uni in September. Continue to pay Dave, my amazing therapist… I’m so bloody overwhelmed.

I’ve cut myself off from everyone. Absolutely everyone. I forget plans I’ve made or cancel them last minute because I forget- I had a run planned with a boy but cancelled that as there is no way I need another distraction in my life right now. I’m glued to my phone. Spending hours and hours in bed- crying or just staring out the window at the view I am soon going to lose. I’ve bought a new bed, but can’t bring myself to take his old one down and build it.

As for self care.. I’ve not shaved anything since he left 😳 I’m going to bed with wet hair, wearing the same PJs I’ve had on for two weeks. I’m a vision of sexuality.

I have another problem- I just can’t let him go. I can’t stop replying to his messages. Even if it’s to tell him how much he has hurt me- he knows, he is fully aware of the pain he caused, he doesn’t care! But it’s so hard after spending every day with him for the last year- literally every day (thanks Covid) to break that connection- I want to break it so much. I don’t believe his assertions of how much he loves me. Of everything he is going to do for “us”- my adult brain knows it’s just the pattern of a narcissist. His circle of abuse.

He would do it while we were together. Be awful to me, make me feel worthless, then a few days later, after breaking me down- beg me not to leave him. Beg me to love him. Tell me we could change, after all it was all my fault. So I’m fully aware that it’s what he is doing now, but still I find myself wavering at his words. He IS getting therapy.. he COULD change.. But I know it’s the manipulation, and I have to stay strong and keep reminding myself of that. It’s all an act

I need to get him out of my head. I need to stop giving him the power and letting him be my focus still. I need to meet up with friends, I need to run- I need to put my phone away and talk to people. Stop trying to hold on to someone who doesn’t exist- grieve for it.

I need to dig deep and find the strength I know I have. I’m not this weak, anxiety riddled girl. I’m a strong woman who laughs through pain, gets on and runs it out. She is in here somewhere, I promise to try harder to bring her to this pity party


Today I went to work, for the first time since the 29th of December. It was hard. Probably more so than I expected. Other than my boss, who took me to one side to ask if I needed anything, told me if anything became too much that I shouldn’t be afraid to go and have two minutes, that I should eat, drink and that taking care of myself should be a priority- pretty amazing boss I think you would agree. No one said anything to me, despite everyone knowing what has been going on, they had obviously been briefed not to upset me- truth be known? I was bloody thankful. I’m fed up of it eating my time, dominating my life. I’ve had enough.

It bubbles away under the surface all day, I am, for lack of a better word, exhausted. My head feels like it’s this big jumble and mess. I’m constantly walking the line between just getting through the day and falling into the abyss of self destruction. I have these lucid moments where I think “nope, he abused you! Look at all the things he did, what an evil man. How could he?” which usually precede “but oh my god I love him, I love him so much and I am heartbroken. Maybe he can get better? Maybe he can be the man I thought he was”.

I desperately seek him out, messaging him. FaceTiming him from “our bed”. I want him to love me, really love me, and for that to be a reason for him to get better. I want him to tell me I’m beautiful. I want him to see the damage he did, the destruction he caused, what he has lost. The sad fact is, he won’t see any of it. He claims he does, but he only sees self pity. He has no empathy. A person who loves and cares for you wouldn’t manipulate you. They wouldn’t let you make love to them and refuse to kiss you- making you feel like a cross between a sex offender and a hooker. They couldn’t look you in the eye and tell you that they were not messaging people on SM, when they knew that just a few moments before they had been doing just that.

I have to accept that his actions, not his words, showed his true feelings towards me. And those feelings were “what can I get out of Claire?” I still don’t know, I don’t know what he gained from his actions. I never will. I think he just enjoyed watching me suffer, enjoying the power over me. Watching me hate myself so much that I would want to scratch my skin off to make the emotional pain abate.

My counselling today was awful. I walked in, having held everything inside all day, and immediately started having a Massive panic attack. Dave, feeling I was cold and shaking, wrapped me in a blanket- went through breathing with me. Offered me food and water. He literally sat for 45 minutes letting me pour it all out. All the hatred I feel for myself, for my poor choices. All the anxiety I have for mine and my children’s future. The overwhelming desire I have to contact him, tell him I love him, I want him back- even though I know I don’t. I want the affection, the kisses, the touch- the dream I had- but not him. Not the threats, abuse and bullying- which, since November/December had been the pillars of out relationship. Him, abusing me- me begging for forgiveness.

I hope this is the worse of it, the house has more or less sold- well of 4 viewings today, three made offers- one above asking price. I have more viewing this week followed by best and final offers on Monday. I want it to stop! I want to keep my home. But I know that it’s impossible, that the best thing is got me to get out. I may even have found somewhere to go- and it still has my view, which I’m going to look out on, drinking coffee in my pretty new bed- with a warm cat curled next to me, my dog at my feet.

This will pass. This is the worse of it. But it will pass.

The Sex word…

So I’ve ordered a new bed 🙂 the final straw came this morning when I discovered that a few days after taking me to bed in it, he had taken his girlfriend who I didn’t know about, I was his other woman without even knowing. I was already struggling with the depth of his deception, but knowing this gave me a huge dose of the “Ick’s”. So new bed (thanks buy now pay later) new mattress and even a new duvet should arrive this week.

I used to love (when I had been good and was worthy of his affection) waking up in the morning, opening the curtains and drinking coffee while taking in “our view”. Some mornings we would have coffee, make love, have more coffee- talk for hours. His hand around my waist, cupping my breast (what little breasts I have 😂). Or my dozing on his chest. In the early days we would get up, have sex, have poached (affectionately named boob eggs) then get the dog out for a walk. Chatting for hours. Get back to his, bath together, before going back to bed. From the outset our relationship was very much based on physical intimacy. Sex was good, I know what I like, he knows what he likes, and neither of us were afraid to ask for it.

I’m not a hugger. I’m not a double cheek kisser. I find physical interaction with acquaintances awkward and intrusive. But strangely I crave physical touch from my partner. I need it. I did one of those love language quiz things online and my biggest need was physical affection. I need someone to move my hair from my face, stroke my neck, put a reassuring hand in the small of my back. Which is why his actions, removing this affection when I was non compliant, were so devastating to me. Which is why, now it’s gone, I feel a bit lost.

I love sex. I loved sex with him. There is absolutely no shame in being a woman and saying “I need sex”. It’s not just the orgasms- they are just a bonus. I love feeling someone’s weight on me, I love feeling them move between my thighs. I love the power of being on top, drawing them out slowly, I love the sides of my body being caressed. Neck kisses, hair pulls, bottom grabs. I love when it’s over, when we are spent and laying in each other’s arms- doing a post match analysis in my head. I live for that ache down there. I am missing it. I am missing sex.

Self love is still love right?

There is this giant part of me which wants to erase the memory of him from my body. Have a random hook up. Let another man do me, fill me up. I’ve had offers- I’m sure I could go on tinder right now and have a willing participant at my door, in my bed and in me before I had chance to say “I don’t want commitment!”. This would be a mistake. Big. Huge.

I have had plenty of casual encounters over the years. Friends with benefits, men I’ve picked up in bars or clubs, men I didn’t even particularly like- a little bit of lipstick lesbianism- they did nothing for me. While my friends compared me to Samantha from sex and the city, sexually ambitious and unapologetic about it, going out and fucking like a man. The reality is I was basically just a posh wank to these guys. Someone to screw to save on tissues- not one cared about my needs. They were like pandas- eat, shoots and leaves

I don’t want that in my new bed, my girly sanctuary. Much as I’m craving physical touch, I’m not prepared to allow myself to be degraded and used any more than he has degraded, used and lied to me over the last 18 months. This isn’t me saying I’m going to join the nunnery- but I’m definitely not interested in opening my legs to the first man who offers. I’m not saying I have to be deeply in love with them, with a ring on my finger and the promise of a lifetime of dreams and happiness- but I want to like them, I want to know them, I want to know they respect me and my body, that they see me as a person and not a flesh light (google it- men are strange).

Someone who will stay the night and have coffee with me in the morning. Someone worthy of my lovely new bed, worthy of my time and worthy of my affection. In the meantime there is always Lovehoney.com. I will have to stroke my own hair and tell myself I’m pretty for now, Maybe self love is actually what I need more than anything else in the world.

Deciding to be happy :)

Little reminder:) if I’ve come this far in two weeks, wait till I’ve had a year 🙂

The beloved wants me back apparently. He is prepared to do “anything” and I mean “ANYTHING” to get me- short of a cataclysmic shift in his entire personality I’m not sure there is anything he can do 🤷‍♀️

I’ve had all the “I love you so much”, “you mean so much to me”, “I want us”, all day. I’ve listened to him cry on the phone- I feel? Well, I feel nothing. I feel empty. I feel like I can’t believe a single word he says.

For months I have been begging him to listen to me, begging him to acknowledge the impact his actions have had on me- and that before I found out about the lies, cheating and manipulation. That was when I was still feeling like something was wrong with me, like I was going a bit crazy- I mean, why couldn’t I believe he loved me? Why couldn’t I trust him? He hadn’t given me any reason not too- I was gaslighted to hell.

Every conversation we had where I told him how I was feeling led down one of three paths. 1. He would flip it back On me, I was being needy/irrational/selfish/Imagining things (delete as appropriate) 2. He would flip it back on him- HE was struggling, I wasn’t thinking about HIM, couldn’t I see the impact it was having on HIS life c. I would get stone walled, his back would get turned on me. Affection withdrawn-this could last hours, or days.

I would end up apologising! Promising to change. Desperately begging him to touch me, or talk to me- even acknowledge my existence. I would sob for hours, I started suffering panic attacks and dizzy spells. I felt permanently confused. His favourite thing to say was “I will hold you if that’s what you need”- and I would grasp this opportunity to experience a tiny moment of love. No matter how begrudgingly gifted

He has offered to come off social media, leave his phone at home, let me have full access to it. Pay all his money into our joint account, go to therapy and CBT- but who wants a relationship like that? Who wants that level of mistrust? I’ve known the passcode for his phone for 18 months, not once did I feel the need or desire to look through it- what an invasion of privacy that would be! He even offered to buy me a car- I never wanted him to buy me anything- just not tell me I couldn’t buy it myself, with my money. I’ve never wanted to be kept, just loved, respected and supported

I know why he is trying to get me back. Not because he loves me- he is incapable of love so that’s on him- I’m bloody lovely and incredibly lovable- he doesn’t want to lose. He hates losing. He hates not being the best, the winner. Im just a commodity to him. I am part of the image. The nice house (mortgaged up to the hilt), the Mercedes (lease car), the Tagg watches- bought on credit cards and sent back, the girlfriend? Oh I will wheel her out when it suits me and she is ok for a shag and for looking pretty on my arm, but heaven forbid she wants to be loved and respected, treated with kindness. She must be always compliant or I will look elsewhere.

I’ve decided to stop being so sad. Stop dwelling and looking for answers. There are none, none that he can give me for sure. I can be stressed- and boy I’m stressed- but I’m going to do what I always do when I’m low. I’m going to start looking for the joy in the mundane.

I danced while cleaning my kitchen today. I ran with my dog. I made a silly sex toy unboxing video for my friend- my daughter says if I ever post it she is sending me to the adoption agency. I’ve flirted and chatted to people, they have made me smile. My 11 year old read to me while I snoozed with my head in her lap. I went to work and cut hair- had mine cut. He liked my hair long, I was going to chop it off short but actually, that’s cutting my nose off to spite my face- it’s better long for running.

My life is going to be so full of love. Not romantic love right now, But one day. Hell, I may even find someone mad enough to marry me before I have to walk down the aisle on my Zimmer frame 😆

He lost. Ultimately, he lost.