Breaking up is hard to do

I’ve just gone through a bad break up and feel like I need a snuggle. I’m 36 I’ve had bad break ups. There’s a whole list of crappy break ups in my past.

There was the one when he kissed my best friend and I felt like my teenage world had fallen apart so I got all our friends to stop talking to her and snogged one of his friends in front of him. 21 years later we’re friends again.

There was the one where he dumped me by letter, after asking his parents for the best way to dump me.

There was the one when I was young and stupid and took him back after he cheated on me – is anyone surprised he did it again?

There was the one where he literally just stopped returning my calls and I still have no idea what happened.

There was the absolutely heartbreaking one where we mutually agreed that it was never going to work while we were at Universities at opposite ends of the country.

There was the one where he hit me so I told him to fuck off and he spent the next year being a douchbag stalker.

There was the one when my Friend with Benefits confessed his love and I grabbed my underwear and ran.

There was the one where I came back from a trip abroad to visit my mum and he told me he couldn’t pick me up from the airport because he was going to a strip club with the boys. So I had to get a train into London, travel the wrong way round the Circle Line because of station closures, get another train to my home town which was mostly replacement bus services due to weekend line works, then get a taxi home. Where I discovered he hadn’t changed the sheets or cleaned the bathroom for a month while I was away so I had to fix both those things so I could have a shower and get into bed after traveling for 22 hours and then I discovered he had bought a new TV, DVD player and sound system on his credit card which I had just paid off for him.

Then there was the absolute worst of all my break ups. The vodka fuelled break up at 2AM with my mother. There are lots of ways to deal with your parental issues. This was not a good one. There were tears and recriminations but even once the vodka had gone, though I felt guilty at doing such a drastic thing I didn’t change my mind, I wanted nothing more to do with her, and 5 years later I still feel like I made the right choice.

All of which tripping down memory lane brings me to my current break up. A few weeks back I wrote a piece in which I described my internet home. It was a place where over the last 12-18 months I have found a bunch of people who are entertaining, thought provoking and not afraid to tell it how they see it. I’ve not broken up with them. Perish the thought. I’ve taken part in a “mommy revolt” We have bitten the hand that thought it was feeding us and now I’ve written this I’m not going to look back. In this break up I’m leaving with my head held high and taking a lot of my new friends with me. They’ve inspired me to look at what it means to be a feminist and a mum and a friend. Hopefully we’ll find a new home, there are some likely possibilities but if we don’t I’ll be eternally grateful that I found women who let me know that my parenting was good enough and taught me that whatever works for your family is the right choice for your family.

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