So. We tried Conscious Uncoupling. And we failed at it. We are back together.
Among all the things that didn’t work out in my life (and there were a few), this is by far my favourite.
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I have been thinking a lot about what I wrote in my last post. While the grief of changed/lost friendships doesn’t keep me up at night anymore (there are only so many tears you can cry), I have been wondering WHY grown ass, amazing, strong women do this. Why do they not only put a guy at the centre of their universe, but why do they put him on a pedestal and themselves underneath? Maybe this is so strangely fascinating to me because I have watched (and was disgusted by) the way my ultra feminist mother would change her tone from an assertive baritone to a Minni Mouse-ish whisper as soon as a guy would enter our world.
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Too much attention has been paid to the heteronormative idea of love, on this blog and elsewhere. As a society, we idealise the image of romantic love between a woman and a man and the Disney-esque happily ever after. The most overlooked romance though involves the people who are actually by our side through thick and thin, the ones that stood and stand by us no matter what… friends!
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I have no idea how a 25yo feels scrolling through Hinge, because when I was 25, online dating wasn’t around. Yes, I am that old. I just know that I find it varying levels of disheartening, gross and frustrating.
How is it possible that so many men in the second half of their forties have never had a significant relationship? How did they never get married? Or have children? How are there so many men past their midlife crisis who live in dingy apartments that remind me of my uni days?
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I understand why a lot of people are hesitant when it comes to therapy, especially couple’s therapy. I had friends giving it a go, only for the husband to unload ‘all the things I hate about you’ in the space of an hour to the understanding nods and a-ha’s of said therapist. The only thing my friend took away from the session was a vow to never go back.
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This isn’t the first time that I am baking cupcakes in the middle of the night, wrap presents, blow up balloons and dash to the store to get a missing ingredient, leaving my sleeping children home alone. It isn’t the first time I am preparing my child’s birthday by myself, and yet here I am, sobbing into the cake batter and eating half of it raw.
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I have been doing great. We have been doing great. We went on a long vacation with the kids, and both of us managed to have some time for ourselves. READ MORE
