My husband and I spent nine months re-building every aspect of the home where we lived for 11 years. This massive project was only finally signed off this January. Showing friends and family round this beautiful home was his pride and joy. He had perfected his tour guide. Even the week before I had discovered his affair, he was excitedly showing some friends round, lapping up all the compliments and when he did the tours alone, he would excitedly report the compliments received back to me.
In the weeks he tortured me with his affair, he would taunt me by saying several times: “It’s only a house.”
It’s not only a house, it is my home or at least it used to be my much loved, much happy home.
I had managed every single aspect of this build. I had designed every aspect of the build; bathrooms, bedrooms, wardrobes, bookshelves, etc.
I had meticulously and lovingly sourced and chosen every single new purchase in the house, from bathroom tiles to vintage chaise longue in the bathrooms, cushions, sofas, paintings, absolutely everything.
I had worked with the builders from hell who nearly broke me because the supposedly trusted company we very meticulously chose after interviewing over 12 builders, ended up being dodgy cowboys of unimaginable proportion, with a fancy name. Every thing that could possibly go wrong went wrong, plus more.
It was a physically and mentally draining project. I was completely exhausted. I did all that for absolutely nothing.
It was an intense labour of love because I was building a beautiful home for my husband and I to live happily for a long time. I often said to him and my family that we were creating space to allow us to fill this house with kids. I always believed that the plans we had for next year would finally end 11 years of childlessness.
While I was busy managing an impossible project and builders from hell, my husband was busy chatting with countless women online and having an affair with a married Vietnamese mother of two whose name rhymes with silly and wrong. How appropriate.
We had so many plans for this place. We have music in almost every space and talked about wonderful parties we would host; in my pre-separation days, I was legendary for hosting fantastic parties. In one of our post adultery chats, I suggested having a big party in August for his birthday/house warming. He replied, let’s have two parties, one when the weather got warmer and one for his birthday.
Being alone in this house, which is filled with 11 years of memories, was never the life plan.
This evening, I found myself saying out loud to myself, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck as the shock hits me like it does on a daily basis that my marriage is over.
As I am stunned by the shock and it all hurts anew, my phone started ringing. It was my mum wanting to say goodnight before going to sleep.
She couldn’t have timed that call better.
This week, my mother who is my heroine sent me two messages. I thought I had managed to fake the fact that I was upset when I spoke to her. She lives abroad and asked whether I wanted her to drop everything (including my 5 year old nephew in her care) to come and look after me for some time.
Her second message said:
“I have a compelling need to send you this message. You were crying when we were talking earlier this evening. Don’t bottle up your tears. Anytime you feel like crying, put on some music to drown the noise, then have a good, loud wail for at least 5 minutes. IT HELPS a lot.
Gradually, your heart will feel lighter. Gradually, the burden will lift. Supported by prayers, the darkness will clear sooner than you think. I am haunted 24/7 imagining what you are going through, alone in a beautiful house that should be giving you joy and marital contentment.
I feel your pain. I understand your pain. I have been there. [X} is worse than dead. He is a living dead. The man you loved is worse than dead! I still pray for him.
You are not a loser & will NEVER be. First class honours, Distinction, 50 Women to watch- all in extremely difficult circumstances!
Our Redeemer liveth! [X] is too insignificant to pull down what God has established. Call me anytime you feel low & tell me when I can call you.
Goodnight, my love & may God’s peace be with you.”
My heart goes out to everyone who has lost their mother because nothing compares to a mother’s love.
Although my mum doesn’t even know this blog exists, I just want to say I love you mummy, much more than I can ever express.