Letting go

So I am currently still trying to divorce the Arsehole ex. (He whose name must not be spoken will be referred to as Mr A(rsehole) from here forward.) In between the aftermath of seeing Mr F and trying to understand how and why I put up with sooo much shit from Mr A I discovered that I’m still totally fucked up and still have a lot of healing to do. In order to make it through the messy hell of divorcing a narcissist whilst trying to heal and not implode, somethings had to go. The first was work.
I needed some time out. It was the first time I’d ever admitted defeat and listened to my body. It was screaming at me to STOP. So rather than experience the breakdown that I could feel hurtling towards me with the force of a thousand Lewis Hamiltons, I took a leave of absence that would go on to last five months. 

Second to go was Tinder, Okcupid and the search for sex. I could not be doing with the stress of online dating with all its checking and waiting and swiping and updating and poor results. It seemed as though turning 36 had taken me over the desirability threshold. Notifications dried up; no fish were biting. This was like a death nell to my vagina which was already having a MAJOR self evaluating crisis over the appearance of a few grey hairs. To be honest though I was too busy just trying to make it through each day to do anything about it: there were no ‘come fuck me’ photos to edit or warm smiles to flaunt, no full body shots for me to upload. I didn’t have the energy to come up with any more witty but not too intimidatingly clever one liners. I weaned myself away from daily swiping, deleted the apps and focused on living life offline. There were a few trips back to it all but after a day or two I was always left underwhelmed by what was on offer.  

The last thing to go was my car. My first baby. I bought it in 2003 and sold it for £90 in May 2015. I thought I’d shed a tear but instead I felt liberated. These days I’m in the world not in my car. I’m connected. In the rain. In the warm sunshine. Connected to the pavement as well as the person sitting next to me on the train. 

I’ve let go of all sorts of things. Tossed weight out of my canoe and into the sea. I’m paddling to the left and then to the right, plunging my oar silently into the water. Life feels lighter, as does my boat, as do I. 

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Dating after analogue

Dealing with dating after a long term relationship is no straightforward affair. As well as mourning the death of what you hoped was forever you also have the added bonus (yay, what joy…) of continued contact with the ex because you were in love (or in lust) and made a baby… or two… or three. If your ex was the reason it ended, (perhaps like mine he was a whole heap of messed up crazy) their poo poo stink can become an inconvenience that just keeps wafting over uninvited to mess up your parade. I say can because it is up to you to arm yourself with Febreeze, candles and if necessary a gas mask to protect yourself from their bad bad odours.

But that’s enough metaphor use for now.

So, valiantly, you begin to take steps to getting your groove on and showing the world that yes, damn it… I’ve got game but you are scared and all around you can see nothing but an intimidating set of obstacles.

Some of which may be:

The ex, on purpose, or just by virtue of their uselessness, is fucking up your me time
You’re feeling really insecure, perhaps after years of put downs and emotional abuse
You are scared of the place that exists out there called… single life
You feel like an OAP compared to that young thing you once were.

And then there’s the minefield that is the dating scene where…Things. Have. Changed.

Your love life now depends less on Cupid’s bow and more on the speed of your broadband, Wifi, 3G, 4G or ET phone home connection.
You may be filled with angst over whether or not to send the first message thus perhaps announcing an absolute desperation that attracts no response back or interest only from the type of psychotic manipulator you’ve only just managed to get rid of.

Well it’s all an adventure. We’ve just got to make sure the seatbelt is fastened, the brakes are working and should there be a hick up or two on the way, the airbags can be relied upon. Do your checks people. It’s gonna be one hell of a journey…

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