This Divorced and Childless Woman’s Mother’s Day

Life is a funny old one.

What do you do on Mother’s Day when you are divorced/single and childless, and the whole world seem hell bent on celebrating their children?

This year, like I do most years, I decided to concentrate on the positive fact that I am lucky enough to have a wonderful mother who is still alive. I think of my friends who have lost their mums and I reach out to them to show some love. The day would usually pass without much drama or sadness. It is what it is.

This Mother’s Day, I had gone to bed late on Saturday night or should I say Sunday morning (2.48am bad, bad, bad, bad girl!) and around 9am on Sunday morning, in that dreamy/wakey/confused state, my door bell rang. I sleepily went to the video intercom and I could see a lady.

“I’ve got flowers.” With my eyes half closed, I couldn’t really make out the figure on the video screen.

“Flowers?” I answered sleepily as if she had just declared that she was dropping an alien from outer space on my doorstep.

“I’ve got flowers for xxxx xxxx.” My local florist said, saying my full name.

My scrabbled brain tried to decipher what on earth she was on about. My brain worked overtime trying to figure out who on earth could be sending me flowers. Various names flashed through my head and just as quickly, I discarded them. Could it have been the man I went on the date on Friday who I did not intend to see again? But he didn’t know my full name. And why on earth would he be sending me flowers? Stalker alert. Who on earth could it be from? I knew no one. I had no one. There was no one. This is odd.

“Could you please leave it on the porch?” I informed the florist whose van I could see on my video screen.

I sleepily went downstairs to the porch with the gait of a special agent about to solve the crime of the century. I would have to be extremely careful with this package. It clearly wasn’t some sort of assassination attempt as I recognised both the florist and her van. Then again it could be.

And there it was.

The most beautiful bunch of flowers I have received in longer than I can remember.

Flowers 2018

I reached for the card attached to the side. It read:

Happy Mother’s Day to our second mum.

Thank you for always being there for us.

We love you.

X Y and Z.

The flowers were from my nephews (aged 16 and 18) and my niece (aged 13)

Flower card 2018

These precious, most adorable, super awesome, generous, kind, sweetest kids have spent money they don’t have to send their auntie, a most gorgeous hand tied, bunch of flowers, timed to be hand delivered on Mother’s Day, with the increased premium.

The overwhelming gratitude and love I feel for these kids, and to my sister for raising such generous, kind, thoughtful kids, is more than I can express on this post.

I am very blessed indeed.

If you are single/divorced/widowed and childless/childfree/separated from your kids or whatever your circumstances may be, if you are interested in widening your social circle, meeting likeminded people for fun, laughter, friendship and to get your mojo back, you may consider joining this brand new Meetup Group called The Discerning Divorced and Childless Friendship Club.

You can join the ladies already confirmed for the Group’s first meetup this Saturday, a reasonably priced gorgeous three course dinner and cocktail, at the fabulous one Michelin Star restaurant Hakkasan Mayfair.

Coming soon: guest blog from the Founder of the The Discerning Divorced and Childless Friendship Club



Day 214 – I Stop And Smell The Roses..

It has been an eventful week.

A week ago, my husband came to our former much loved home to pick up his stuff after the longest saga ever.

You share 14.5 years with someone and he collects his things packed in black rubbish bags. Sad.

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If my ex has been affected in any way by the end of his marriage or the finality of collecting his things, he didn’t show it.

He was more interested in collecting unopened and opened bottles of brandy. I told him to enjoy.

If he was expecting drama from me, he got absolutely none.

I was cool, calm, collected, helpful and civil.

The truth is I am exhausted by life. He could take whatever he wanted to, I didn’t really care to be honest. He could have it only. They are only things.

At the end of the visit, my wonderful friend T who has been a rock and was with me said how surprised and proud of me she was and how I offered even more things than my ex had asked for.

She was livid with my ex. She said that all she wanted to do was to chuck his books and playstation games in his smug face and to tell him to fuck off when he laughingly said he needed to use the toilet. She couldn’t believe how blasé he was about everything. It was all so easy for him. Was he really concerned about brandy bottles? Seriously?

I was overwhelmed with sadness after the visit.

It all seemed so easy for this man that I had given so many years of my life to move on. I guess it sort of hit me that the last time my ex was in our home in April, we were still married, with a chance of working on our marriage and here we are, in such few months, complete strangers. All those shared lives, travels, restaurants, parties, adventures, experiences, hopes, aspirations; all nothingness, all meaningless.

But then something happens that shocks me out of my pity party for one…

My darling mother was involved in a bad car crash this Sunday. There could have been three corpses or serious injuries, and yet, the three of them walked away from that crash totally fine.

This is nothing short of a miracle.


I can’t imagine my life without my dearest mum in it. I just can’t even contemplate that possibility. It scares the shit out of me.

I stop and count my blessings.

It puts things in perspective.

It puts the end of my marriage in perspective.

No one died.

In other news, my home looks like a florists with gorgeous flowers from my lovely, kind friends.

I stop and smell the roses.

I count my blessings.

I am a lucky girl.

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Day 86 – I Have Love

Yesterday was my 42nd birthday.

I was dreading the day because it would be the first birthday in 15 years that my husband hadn’t been in my life. I had prepared myself for a miserable day. I had mentally prepared myself for the fact that even though he knows what an excitable child I am about my birthday, a day usually filled with lots of pampering, fun and presents from him, my husband would not contact me. I had mentally prepared myself that his mum and sister, might not contact me.

I was very wrong about the latter. My in-laws have been amazingly supportive in all of this.

Sadly, I was right about my husband. This man who’s known me since I was 27 years old. This man who has broken my heart into immeasurable pieces and hurt me beyond all belief, hurt so gigantic, I still get moments when the shock of it hits me every single day, willing myself to wake up from the nightmare.

Of course he hadn’t been in contact.

This man hadn’t thought that mere decency and 14 years was worthy of a text, an email, anything, acknowledging that I might be hurting and might not be having the best birthday in the world, but nevertheless acknowledging my birthday with some best wishes or some kindness or absolutely anything.

Even when I was forced to email him to say that he had given me the wrong password for one of the complicated mess he’s left me to figure out, he couldn’t be bothered to reply with the correct password, let alone acknowledge that it was my previously very special and excitable day.

I heard absolutely nothing.

Has this man always been this cruel and I hadn’t noticed because I was so in love? Has he always been this utterly thoughtless? Has he always been this despicable and hateful?

Well…no thanks to the man I had wasted 14 childbearing years and my youth on, I had a great birthday.

It was naturally very sad at times and I tried my best to drown those sadness with music and things that would lift my spirit. It started with midnight messages from my sisters and a good friend that stays awake every year to wish me happy birthday on the stroke of midnight. I got lots of phone calls and messages filled with love and hope for the future from family and friends.

My soon to be ex mother-in-law and sister-in-law who have been extremely kind and supportive in this nightmare, called to sing happy birthday. The two nephews that I had been heartbroken at the thoughts that my divorce could mean that I never see them grow up, sang happy birthday to me, one after the other. My friend and god daughter recorded happy birthday messages and more singing for me on Whatsapp.

My Cambridge consultant Mandy who has become a dear friend and an immense rock, popped in with a very thoughtful and kind present and a “cake” complete with candle…well not actually a cake, a Cambridge diet Jelly.

2015-05-11 19.15.18

A good friend also chose the spend the whole evening with me, trying to help me sort out some of the things my husband had bailed and left me to figure out.

He succeeded in convincing me that whilst my husband might no longer love or fancy me, other men would find me “gorgeous”.

So…last year’s birthday started with breakfast in bed, tons of expensive presents from my husband and ended with a tasting menu at the fancy 2 Michelin Star Notting Hill Restaurant Ledbury, which we both declared were the best meals we’d ever eaten. This year, I had omelette and cucumber for dinner and Mandy’s Cambridge diet jelly.

But you know what, I would rather eat eggs.

I would rather stay 100% on my diet and have an omelette than fancy dinner with someone who has no respect for me or who might have sat there, instead of acknowledging and appreciating the wonderful life he had, was hungering after greener grass.

This year, I had genuine love from friends and family.

Most importantly, I have self-love.

I have self-love because I am trying my best to be the best that I can be. I know it will be impossibly difficult and that it will take time to recover from the psychological damages of the last 11 weeks, but I will get there some day.

Yesterday, I sent myself some gorgeous flowers with a card message.


My typed message was handwritten and I’m guessing transcribed by the florist who delivered it who looked at me with sympathetic eyes. She must have called me sweetheart four times and asked me if I was OK and to take care.

The kindness of strangers.

The message on my card to myself said:

I am beautiful, intelligent, creative, kind and generous.
I have a lot going for me.
This period sucks but the sun will shine again.
Simply take it one day at a time.
Happy birthday.
Go me! xxx

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Day 70- Darling Buds of…April.

I feel like utter shit today.

That talk with myself was totally pointless. I thought my week couldn’t get any worse; it did. I probably had less than an hour’s sleep last night. I need to sort myself out very soon as things are rapidly getting out of hand. I can’t remember the last time I had a good night sleep. My sleep has really been disturbed since January and the stress of the last 8 weeks and 5 days have been a bitch and a half.

I’ve given up pretending to be strong; I am a complete mess.

This year isn’t just about losing weight, it is also about being healthy. The situation I’ve found myself in has gotten out of hand.

If I go quiet for some days, please don’t think I’ve fallen off the diet wagon, that’s just me sorting my head out and getting some sleep.

I have a bitch of a headache. Nurofen liquid express hasn’t helped. Water hasn’t helped. Coffee hasn’t helped. And I decided a long shower might help…

And there it was…


A flicker of hope and light in all the darkness. A source of life that has refused to give up and die. A potted plant that I bought from M&S in December. It was only guaranteed to last a month. I have had a previous one die within two weeks.

This little beauty on the bathroom window, is a real fighter. For some reason, it has survived the odds, kept going long after all the flowers had disappeared.

And now buds. And a glorious little flower.

In whatever bleak moments we face, there are joys to be had; we just have to open our eyes, minds and hearts.

In other news, still no sign of my disappeared period. And in case you really wanted to know (not), I have 0.00000% chance of being pregnant with a Cambridge baby.

Better news is some movement on the scale this morning. Long may it continue.