This is probably my favourite emoji. One I use a lot and I guess it sums up how things have been recently.

It’s almost midnight and I’m still awake. Sleep either eludes me or comes too easily these days. So here I am, writing the first post I’ve done in months. I’ve been quiet on here because nothing has changed in my dating life recently. What has changed is my home life.

It’s a long old story but basically my son no longer lives with me full time. He needs a dad and so is spending more time at his dads. That’s fine. I was devastated all the times he kept telling me he can’t stand living with girls. I felt like I failed him by not finding him a ‘Dad’. He even told me he’d be ok if he had a dad at home, not necessarily his biological father, but just a man here to talk to about ‘boy stuff’. His heart was broken and so was mine.

I resisted making this change. I’m probably selfish but I wanted my boy with me as much as possible. It took a hellish couple of months for me to open my eyes and see the bigger picture.

My sons misery was palpable.

As was mine.

His Dad’s denial of the situation was immense. I guess he just didn’t understand the need that our boy has. Both he and I have parents that are still together. We don’t understand what it’s like to be a child of divorce. How can we?

And so we came to a new agreement. ‘The schedule’ as I call it. It outlines where my son lives when. He’s still with me the most. However he’s away a lot more than he ever has been.

When he first left and before ‘the schedule’ was agreed, I thought I’d lost him as he stayed with his dad for a couple of weeks during which I had little contact. I grieved. I know that sounds ridiculous. My son is still alive. He’s still in the same city and at the same school as my daughter. But I grieved. I couldn’t go into his room at this time. My heart actually ached for him. I missed him. I’d have preferred him with me and misbehaving than to be without him.

I was selfish. To make me happy was to make him sad. Instinctively I knew what he needed. I think mothers always do. It just took me a while to admit it.

He stayed with his dad for a couple of weeks, during which I went to work, did the things I needed to do, took my daughter to her activities, fed her, cleaned etc. I was on autopilot. The odd couple of hours that I snatched back with my boy, I was angry. Angry at him for leaving me like his dad did. Angry because I hadn’t been enough. I hadn’t been a good enough wife and now I wasn’t a good enough mum. I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy my boy. Then I got angrier at myself for wasting my precious time with him being angry. A vicious circle of anger, sadness and despair. That’s what I felt. Despair.

I met with his Dad and his partner in a pub on a Sunday afternoon and for the first time since mediation we discussed where our boy would live and when. It was a difficult conversation for all of us. Myself because I had to let go; his Dad because he had to step up.

It’s taken some getting used to but now I see that my son is happier. That when he’s with me he’s calmer. That I haven’t failed him anymore. He still gets angry and tells me he wishes he had a dad at home. I get that. I wish he did too. For now that’s not the reality we live and I’m learning that that is not my fault.

Im seeing that the more time he’s with his dad, the more the novelty is wearing off. The grass isn’t always greener. His eyes are being opened to the reality of living with his father.

I don’t know where this journey will take us. I don’t know how long it will last. Right now I’m learning to appreciate the time I have with him and the time that I don’t. I get to have one to one time with my daughter or time to myself.

I’m learning to heal. The past few years I’ve held everything together for my children; as their world was falling apart. It turns out I need a little holding up myself. I’m stubborn so that’s hard to admit to myself or anyone else but it’s true and I deserve it.

Turns out I’m not always super girl….just 90% of the time!

💁🏼‍♀️💋 🙅🏼‍♀️