I Can't Do This

There are so many moments lately when I think that. "I can't do this".
I can't do anything.
Life. Being a mum. Being a friend. Being a daughter.
"I can't do this."
I can't spend another night on the sofa.
I can't go upstairs in the morning to sort the boys out for school whilst he remains in the warm comfy bed enjoying what is essentially a lay in because I have been awake since 5.30 with the children, or as he lays there on his phone when I have an inbox full of unanswered emails.
"I can't do this".
I can't clean the house again for another estate agent.
I can't clean the house again for another viewing.
I can't do the viewings. I can't show anyone around my home. Although it may not feel like home right now.
I can't take anyone upstairs and show them the bedroom at the back and the smaller bedroom at the front. The rooms I decorated to please two special little boys.
The rooms I slept in when breastfeeding, or when the boys were poorly or simply wanted a cuddle.
I can't hear someone else talk about their children taking over those rooms.
"I can't do this".
I can't make promises to my children. I can't excite them with a new house, a new bed. I can't excite them with a holiday next year we may never actually go on. I can't excite them with a two day break to their favourite attraction.
I can't even tell them where we will live. I can't tell them how many bedrooms we will have.
I can't tell them how big the garden will be, or whether or not there will even be room for their garden toys.
"I can't do this".
I can't have another argument because communication is failing where it should be really important right now.
I can't fight about things that would be easily resolved if communication was better.
I can't understand how someone can change so much when you break up.
I can't understand how unrecognisable they become.
"I can't do this".
I can't sit opposite my solicitor and accept the reasons for divorce.
I can't sit there and fight or beg for what is rightfully mine.
I can't understand all the legal wording so nod along hoping that soon it will click and I'll get it.
I can't add any more information to my already full brain.
"I can't do this".
I can't make promises and keep them.
I can't be as reliable as I want to be or as reliable as I should be.
I can't remember the most simple of things.
"I can't do this'.
I can't read about your perfect life or look at those perfectly posed family photos.
I can't read about how everything is so amazing in your life. I can't read as you reccount how fairytale-esque your relationship is, and how you know for sure that you will be together forever.
"I can't do this".
I can't worry about the most insignificant of issues. I can't stress and drop everything in my life over the most ridiculous, small things that ultimately mean very little. They won't hurt anyone and in a years time won't even be remembered.
I can't add others problems to mine. And deal with other dramas when I have so much going on myself.
I just can't.



I don't regret my decision to end my marriage. It was the right thing to do and I am happier for it.
I feel like a weight is lifted from my shoulders and I feel like I can now be me. Or at least allow myself to grow to who I am supposed to be without being confined or without feeling like I need to consider how someone else views me too. And the person they want me to be.

I'm happy. I'm confident in my decision and in myself.
And I feel that I am ready to put myself out there and meet people. When I say people we clearly know I mean men.

To some it might seem soon. Only 2 months split from a 10 year marriage but when there have been months of feeling disconnected, and leading seperate lives, it's not really too soon at all.
And we all cope differently.
I'm not on a husband hunt.
I want to meet someone who likes me. Who thinks I am cute. Someone who wants to spend time with me, who values me and who respects me.

I think I have a lot going for me. It might seem like an egotistical thing to say. But I do.
I am a nice person. I like to think I am fun and funny. And that I'm a good person to have around.
As well as other stuff too.

But I can't help but to feel undesirable too.
Being a mum seems to be a big deal. And I get that. It's a big part of my life and they are a big responsibility. However, I'm not looking for someone who would take them on immediately. Or even meet them any time soon.
I want my own life, seperate to them whilst they are with their dad...or even when they are asleep in bed. To have someone come round to snuggle up to as we watch a film together or just sit and talk with a glass of wine or cup of tea.
Getting a divorce, it's not exactly the most attractive or appealing thing to a man surely.
Despite the fact that my divorce would never be a topic of conversation because I don't want to bring anyone into it or make it anyone else's issue, instead wanting to find someone who can take my mind away from it, and to distract me, I know that it must be totally off putting to anyone who would possibly be interested in me other than that.

When I think of those things, and of what it must look like from the outside, I can't help but to feel totally undesirable.
To seem as though I am this nice girl who comes with a whole tonne of baggage. Even though this is not the case.

I want my own life. I want the life that I've tried to have for a while.
When I can be Lauren, and no one else.
When I can finally feel like a human, and like someone who matters to other people.
To feel like someone people (particularly a man) may want in their life.
To be someone who is on someone's mind for a good reason. Someone who is thought about.

This situation may not be perfect. But I am determined to feel positive and to get through it the best I can.
Whether I am desirable or not.



Dating and Sex

So it's been over a month since we officially split up. To be honest, as I've said before it has been a long time coming and as a result I think we are both happy and comfortable in moving on and dating.
I don't know, or want to know, what his thoughts and opinions are on what he wants. But for me, I don't know, I'm not initially looking for something serious.
I'm not desperate to get a boyfriend, and to find my next husband.

However, I feel like I'm in need of someone to be there. For company, cuddles, kisses. Just hanging out together and enjoying each others company. Getting to know each other without pressure or commitment or demands.
I mean, it's silly of me to say that it wouldn't be somewhere I would want that kind of "relationship" to end up. To me, a gradual progression of friendship into relationship is kind of what I would like I think. No pressure and almost the guarantee that that person really does like you because they've got to know you for you and liked you so much for that that they wanted to move the friendship on.

I'm quite strict in terms of wanting to keep my "mum" role seperate from anyone who I may meet. I don't feel it is fair or right to introduce anyone to the boys so soon after their parents split, and when we have so much going on with the house moves when they happen and life adjustments there.

I wouldn't hide the fact I am a mum obviously. But I feel it's fair, for me, that someone gets to know me as me before they get to see that parent side too.

The scariest thing for me I think will be eventually when it comes to....taking any friendship or relationship to the next level...ok yeah...sex. I'm talking about sex...and for someone to see the evidence on my body that I am a mum. To see the tummy that grew two children and is marked and not at all toned.
To see the breasts that I've never liked anyway, other than loving them for feeding my children, but in terms of appearance...they let me down massively.
And the rest of my body which is a clear advert for the fact that I have had a shocking diet and haven't looked after myself at all.

In clothes it's fine. I can make my bum look quite good in a tight pencil skirt, I know how best to make my legs look good and how to make my tummy hidden, my breasts look rounder and a maybe a tiny bit bigger. I'm able to confidently talk to a man, and parade myself I suppose without too much fear of being judged or of disappointing anyone.

This was never a big deal before. My body. Because I lived by the rule that my husband had no right to complain about my body because the results were down to me growing his two children. And I also decided that if he wasn't happy with my body then he could find someone else...

I can't have that attitude when it comes to another man.
I can have the attitude of "I grew my children. Don't like it then go and find someone else" but I don't want that attitude. I want to be confident. To be able to fake it (the confidence, nothing else) at least.

There is a part of me that is looking forward to those exciting early stages with someone else. Even if it leads to nothing and fizzles out for whatever reason.
And although I accept that we all have body hang ups, I feel that as a mum I feel more self conscious than ever before.
And almost kind of competitive. I feel like I have to prove I am good enough for whoever I may see, date or hang out with. And with the decision to want to find someone around my own age for now it's incredibly hard because they obviously have the option of women in their 20's. Women whose bodies may not have birthed children...because let's face it, there are other areas on our bodies that are affected due to childbirth and I have no idea if, to a man, it is noticeable or if it feels....nice and....normal. Yeah there...I said it...I went too far. But it's something that I'm pretty sure we all worry about!

For so long I've felt like I couldn't really talk about sex. And I am someone who is quite open and honest about that kind of thing and as I'm now single I feel like it's important to talk about it. To get advice from other women who have been in this situation, and to even eventually be able to give advice to women who find themselves in this situation too.

I'm not going to lie, a new sex life, or at least the idea of it, is exciting but being really self conscious and worrying about the body image pressures as well as the other pressures and emotions that go along with sex, can't help but to make me feel quite apprehensive of it.

Not that it's something I am planning on doing asap of course. But it is something that will happen at some point...at least I hope it will.



Adulting Part II | No Longer Home

Making the decision to separate from my husband wasn't easy. It was something that had been on my mind, and maybe his, for a long time.
When there is a marriage, a house, and two children it's not an easy decision to make at all. It wasn't as simple as "let's seperate" "Ok sure!". And that was part of what kept me there, at home, unhappy, for a while.
All of the other things to consider and to take into account and having to mentally process it all. Creating lists of what had gone wrong, what was right, what could we fix, and as much as I tried my best to keep hold of what I thought we had, and what I thought was right, there was one word that I just kept going over and over. And it was happiness.

That was the priority. For me, for him, for the children and for our families. Because that was something that kept going around in my head. I obviously confided in my mum, and my brother, about how I was feeling and it didn't seem fair to put that onto them. The worry, concern and so on.

It didn't seem fair to feel like we had to pretend to be happy together. And although I asked a few times if he was happy, and he said yes, I felt that it wasn't the case.
I felt like the boys were young enough to be able to go through this separation with us still being able to hide any anger, for them to be able to be unaware of certain emotions and situations, conflicts and so on. We are able to make it a little easier by making a fuss of things like two Christmasses, two bedrooms, two houses.
I felt it only right to explain to Charles what is going on, so he knows the full situation, and I feel so lucky to have a son with such a sensitive, emotional, understanding heart because he accepted that mummy and daddy don't love each other anymore but will stay friends (at least we will keep communication polite for the sake of the boys).

On Saturday my second "adulting" experience happened. I tidied and cleaned the house better than I ever have before. Which with no coffee, food, and a hangover wasn't easy or fun. But I did have a real sense of achievement.
At 3pm the estate agent pulled up in her super clean white car....I swear this is standard colour for estate agents...of course I am only basing that on the fact that I have been in an estate agents car and it was white so it's a totally scientific based on that alone.

I was totally fine about an estate agent looking around our house. It has a weird feeling around it at the moment, I think mainly due to me trying to disconnect from it but also due to me sleeping on the sofa and not having a space of my own there.
I have my mind elsewhere with distractions and other things to help not feel so emotional about what is actually going on.
But as we sat on the sofa and she discussed the estimate, and the process, including the fact that they would show potential buyers around I all of a sudden felt my eyes tingle.
I pictured me showing a couple around, who would be planning their family or indeed already have children.
Their children would take over the space that my children now have. The space that is theirs, that they can do what they like in (within reason) . The space that makes them feel safe.
Their rooms that I have slept in, numerous times when they were poorly, being breastfed, or just in need of a cuddle.

For a minute or two I remembered what it was like when it felt like home.
When I felt comfortable, safe, and warm there. When I felt I could relax, be happy and live.
And I cried a little bit. Not for long, but I felt that I needed to let that emotion come and let it ride itself out.
And it did. And at this time, as I sit at my mums, the place I feel comfortable, safe and warm, happy and relaxed, I think of that semi-detached house, the one that was once so full of happiness and love, and it doesn't feel like home.
It feels like a building.
But the thought that soon enough, I will be possibly showing other people around, people who will potentially fill that house again with happiness and love and call it their home, makes me feel strange.
Maybe a little jealous...

I was glad that my mum had come round to help me out with the boys and to be there when I spoke to the estate agent. I didn't even think about asking about commission and prices and she thankfully did.
It's a super daunting experience especially when it's not due to a happy or exciting circumstance and at times I don't feel old enough to be doing such grown up things like this.

But as with this whole process, it's adulting. And it's part of life.
Except this part won't include the killer heels, and will instead involve a heart filled with a little bit of hope that one day I will be back somewhere that feels like my home.
Just as this one used to do.

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