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Life is for Living! My best is yet to come…

I have not written in my diary since May.

I’m not entirely sure why as I have a lot to report and yet, I’m just quietly getting on with life.

Thank you to those of you who have been in touch privately and to all of you who continue to follow me, even with months of silence. xx

And thank you for all your support of my Instagram page. Please feel free to keep sharing.

http://www.instagram.com/belleslowcarbworld/

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Last week, a friend contacted me saying that she wanted to speak to someone who has been through a difficult divorce. My first thought reading her message was that this divorce thing has become an epidemic. I had only seen her two months ago at my party (see below). It looks like no one is immune from marriage breakdown or worse still, difficult ones.

I want to use this post to say to anyone who is going through a difficult relationship or marriage breakdown, bereavement or any sort of loss; this will hurt like nothing has ever hurt you.

You may feel the sort of emotional and even physical pain you have never felt before.

But the one thing that I can absolutely, hand on heart promise you, is that it will definitely get easier.

The end of my marriage was the most devastating thing that has ever happened to me. I felt debilitating emotional and physical pain, I did not even know were humanly possible to feel, let alone possible to survive.

Last year, June 5th, 2016, on what would have been my 12th wedding anniversary, I wrote my darkest post. That post caused a lot of upset, and reading it now, it still feels sad, but I felt the sort of somewhat detached sadness you feel reading about something that has happened to someone else. That is a massive growth.

Warning: may cause upset. For completion, you can read that post here, and its follow-up written just three days later.

This brings me to the main point that I would like to make. No matter how dark things may seem, even when you reach rock bottom like I did, things will definitely get better.

Last wedding anniversary, June 5th 2016, I wanted to die. I couldn’t see a way out from the emotional pain of my divorce, or the physical pain I was feeling.

A year later, June 5th, 2017, I genuinely did not even realise what day it was until I needed to check the date on some chicken, to put in the freezer. And even after I realised what day it was, I continued with my mundane tasks unperturbed.

Life feels like it has moved on and what better way to do so than to have a party?! 🙂

And so, in July, I had a belated birthday and divorce celebration party, putting an end to the whole sorry saga of the end of my marriage.

It was a truly magical night of music, food, cake, champagne, drinks, laughter and dancing into the early mornings in a marquee erected in the garden, complete with dancing floor, lights and smoke machine…why the hell not…:-)

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I was surrounded by good friends and wonderful family, my mum, my sisters, niece and nephews.

On the afternoon of my party, I had the surprise of my life when my little sister flew in from where she lives overseas to attend my party. All my family, including my 7 year old nephew, knew she was coming to my party, and they all managed to completely hide it from me.

I sobbed like a baby when I saw her, but they were tears of joy.

After the party, my home was filled with flowers from friends.

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The next day, I had the enviable task of opening a mountain of presents.

What a lucky girl I am.

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I guess the whole night can be summed up by one song…

I will Survive, which followed my speech. There was a frenzy defiance of loud singing, dancing, and me, singing along with a microphone…as you do. I have watched the video of this part of the night countless times – the powerful feat of survival.

I will survive.

I have survived.

I am surviving.

I’m not saying that my life is now a bed of roses or that there are not challenges, even sometimes on a daily basis.

I’m not saying that I don’t get moments when I feel waves of sadness, not only that my marriage ended but that it ended in a way that I cannot even cherish the thoughts of the years with my ex given that by his own words, he was online dating and looking “for a way out” throughout our 14.5 years relationship.

Of course I’m sad that the way my marriage ended means that there has been zero contact between my ex and I since November 2016, when we concluded the withdrawal of his ridiculous case for the Mac computer, we used to share.

Of course I feel sadness that my marriage ended as no one gets married intending it to fail.

I feel sadness that I invested 14.5 years of my short life on a man I cannot even text in an emergency, and yet, I have somehow managed to stay friendly with all other significant exes, including a violent, abusive ex, who had the grace to apologise sincerely for his actions.

Of course I feel sad that the last time I saw my ex, he excused all his bad behaviour as acting under “legal advisement” and blatantly did not recognise just how badly he had behaved, let alone deem it fit to render an apology for his actions.

But I am well adjusted, positive and I am not bitter about the past.

I do not need an apology from my ex to continue to rebuild my life nor do I need an explanation for why he really behaved like he did.

I’m not the first woman lied to, betrayed, hurt or devastated by a man she trusted implicitly, and I won’t be the last.

I am most definitely a better and stronger person than I was during my marriage. I recognise strengths and growths in my life that certainly were not there before.

I am also very excited and a little daunted about a new project that I start in exactly two weeks. Perhaps one day, when I can, I will write more about it. If it works, it will certainly be life changing. But however it pans out, I am very proud of myself for being brave enough to embark on a journey that would take me through uncharted and uncertain territories.

I am proud of myself for making things happen.

I am proud of myself for not allowing the end of my marriage to be the end of my dreams.

I am proud of myself…and it’s OK to remind myself of that fact.

And like my fabulous cake says, Life is For Living! The best is yet to come…

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4

Day 515 – The Lord is My Shepherd, I Shall Not Want

As I approach a second court hearing in my financial remedy hearing to divide assets between myself and my ex, I am so weary and tired, I could cry all day.

I have had very little sleep in the past week which does not help, my back hurts, my body is tired but my spirit is thankful for God’s mercies.

My heart is broken into countless little pieces with the horrific nightmare I find myself living with the end of my marriage and my ex’s inexplicable behaviour.

Even though the stress of the last few days and impending period, have been such that the scale does not show a weight I’d wish to be, I am so proud of myself this week because I haven’t resorted to pizzas and junk food like I did with the last court hearing and other divorce stress. I can’t promise that that will never happen, but I am thankful that I have felt the need for good food and lots of vegetables to cope with the stress, and not junk food.

This post isn’t a morose one to moan about my woes. It is a post of gratitude. As I write this, I am actually feeling completely overwhelmed by love.

I am overwhelmed by the love of a wonderful family, in particular, my darling mother and my wonderful three sisters. They are the rock that hold me up even when I feel like completely crumbling under the uncertainties, hurt and heartbreaks of the last 17 months.

I thank God for blessing me with a wonderful, close and loving family who always have my back.

I also thank God for the love and support of a few close friends who have an inkling of what I have been going through.

This lapsed Catholic, former convent girl and sinner always remembers God and finds comfort in Him when the chips are down. I am tired but I have faith. I have so many loved ones, priests, pastors praying for me as I go through the next court hearing, I am indeed very blessed.

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I get a lot of comfort from Psalm 23.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
For his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
For thine are with me;
 Thou rod and thou staff,
 Thou comfort me.

 Thou preparest a table before me
  In the presence of my enemies;
 Thou anointed my head with oil;
   My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
   All the days of my life,
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
    Forever, amen

6

Day 427: Get Thee Behind Me Divorce Grief

Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday.

Tomorrow is also exactly one year since my husband left our former marital home to pursue his affair with Mylien, a married Vietnamese mother of two, whose husband was living in Italy and who my husband met on an online dating website for singles.

Even before I found out about his four months affair, Mylien had allegedly broken up with him four times, because she didn’t like him remaining married, whilst married herself.

After I found out, she allegedly told him that if he left me, she would leave her husband. When I asked why she doesn’t leave her husband first, my ex said because they have two children.

Our marriage was easily dispensable to my ex because we didn’t have children. He conveniently forgot to tell her about his sperm issues and erectile dysfunction which resulted in 8 painful IVF, 2 miscarriages, my undergoing countless gruelling experimental treatment in our unsuccessful quest to have children.

My 11 year marriage and 14.5 years relationship ended with an email sent by my husband from a business trip in Singapore, informing me he wasn’t coming home.

Mylien remains (happily?) married to her husband.

I call my ex, my husband because a year after he left our former home and nearly a year after he rushed to file for divorce, one working day after his lawyer (same divorce law firm as his mistress Mylien’s sister Quyen) sent me an email, on our 11th wedding anniversary, informing me he wanted a divorce, celebrating with an expensive meal with Mylien the day after he filed for divorce, having secretly moved to a place 5 minutes from her home in Weybridge, as he sought to forge ahead with a new life where unbeknown to her husband, my ex was holidaying with his mistress and her children, as my life descended into chaos, untold grief and darkness, we remain married.

I do not know when the court case to settle our finances will end. The second court hearing, the FDR, which was meant to happen this April has been postponed as my ex failed to return a court mandated document. The hearing might be rescheduled for June, July or whenever the court has availabilities.

If this case doesn’t settle during that second hearing, it might drag on until a final trial at the end of the year or even early next year, when my husband and I cease to have any control over the settlement of our financial affairs and will surrender all power to a judge to settle our affairs as he deems fit. Given that the same judge would also decide whether we can appeal against his decision, it is an extremely foolish place to be and only 10% of divorcing spouses are stupid enough to go to a final trial. I am resigned that I might be one of those 10% through no fault of mine.

I have tried to settle amicably outside of court in mediation which my ex ended. I also made a settlement offer which he rejected and refused to make a counter offer.

I am resigned that the nightmare and uncertainties I continue to live in, ends when it ends.

A year after my husband left our former home, I wish I was writing a reflective post that celebrates the countless personal achievements that I have had in the past one year of being on my own and to celebrate the person that I am becoming.

Perhaps I could write about how having been driven around by men in the last 22 years, a year ago when my husband left, I had only driven 2 or 3 very short times in the previous three years and couldn’t even confidently drive 5 minutes to the supermarket.

And yet last week, and the week before that, I was this woman driving on the motorway.

No, as much as I would like to pat myself on the back, reflect on my year and say well done, I have had a tough few days and I have other things on my mind.

I am overwhelmed by grief and sadness that have resurfaced from nowhere. I had been doing so well lately…

It’s been a few days where my emotions have been all over the place. Where every little thing makes me cry. Where I wonder whether my life would ever be as carefree as it used to be, happy, smiley, secure, certain, where I felt like I had someone in my life who would stay with me forever, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, through tears and laughters, where there seemed to be a purpose, a life plan, security.

As I write this, with uncontrollable tears, I’m forcing myself to look at the bigger picture.

Yes, divorce sucks lemon and I’m not going to make lemonade as I really shouldn’t be having sugar. However, there is no situation in life that stays the same. This period of uncertainty will someday pass. The feeling that I am adrift, no one to call my own, alone, will pass.

I tell myself to make a list.

Lists make everything seem clearer. I like to have a plan. It’s good to have a plan. I have to make my lists of ways to change things that I have control over, improve things, tick off my list and keep going.

I miss my old life. 

OK, I’ve said it but I also know that my old life is a fiction. There is nothing to miss when it didn’t exist.

That old life was all a lie.

That smiling face, the conman’s smile, the infectious laughter, the daily I love yous, the daily phone calls, the hand holdings, they were all lies.

You don’t miss something that never really existed.

You don’t miss something that never was.

You don’t miss an illusion.

I shouldn’t miss my old life because there is nothing to miss. 

And therefore, I tell myself that life is what you make of it. There is no old life to think of, there is just the now.

And the now, is what I make of it.

I will scribble in my notebook, make plans and make things happen. 

I will ride this current wave of grief and sadness, and it will surely pass.

It has all gone wrong on the diet front. I had a few bad days some weeks ago, following some divorce upset and  I have struggled ever since to recover.

I am going to take a couple of weeks off Cambridge, recharge and I will get back to it in the middle of May and finally give myself the big kick up the arse I need to make sure nothing else ever comes between me and this diet.

I will not stop until I reach goal.

In the meantime, get thee behind me sucky divorce grief.

 

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Day 363: Be My Valentine?

I am nearly one full year from the day that I started the low calorie, low carb, Cambridge diet Step 2, eating 810 calories.

I have now lost nearly 6 stones.

I will forever be proud of the fact that when humongous shit hit the proverbial fan, instead of drowning in food like I have done all my life, I elected to change the narrative and stayed on a diet that I had only started a week before my life as I knew it, changed forever.

It hasn’t been a perfect weight loss story, far from it.

I have succumbed to stress and food various times throughout the year, but no one said it would be an easy journey especially going through an unexpected, volatile and toxic divorce.

The important thing is that I have persevered. I promise myself and everyone that follows this diary that I will not quit trying until I get to goal weight.

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This last year has shown me parts of myself that I didn’t even know existed.

I have grown in ways I didn’t know were possible. I have achieved things I didn’t know I could.

I have found strength mentally, that I didn’t know I had.

I can’t claim that I have ever been one for self loathing, quite the opposite. But this last, year, modesty apart, has shown me that I am quite an extraordinary person.

I am worthy of great things.

I am a good person.

I can look at myself in the mirror and be happy with the person that looks back at me.

I can look at myself, ditch modesty and say, you know what, you are a beautiful woman inside and outside. You deserve the best and your best is yet to come.

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This will be the first Valentine’s Day since 1994, yes, 22 consecutive years that I haven’t had a significant other who would send me cards, flowers and presents, professing love.

But I am good with that.

It is very OK.

For the first time in my life, I realise that my long held view that I don’t do single life, that I am one of those women who can’t be on my own, that I need a man in my life to complete me, is a fallacy.

Right now, I cannot see myself ever doing the whole relationship and love thing.

I have been hurt beyond my worst nightmares.

If my marriage and my unshakeable belief in the solidness of that relationship could end like it has, or the person that I had loved more than I had ever loved any man in my entire life, could end like this, I do not trust my own judgment nor do I trust any man.

Nor would I ever want to give anyone that much power ever again to hurt me.

But forever is a long time.

I am perfectly happy with my single life and whilst I haven’t given up on sex (far from it) there are ways of having safe, healthy and respectful sex without inviting a man into my heart.

It does not mean that I no longer believe in love or happily ever after or that I don’t wish those in relationships the very best of luck. It’s just not a fairytale I see for myself.

I am still the die hard romantic that I have always been. 

I still watched the end of War and Peace with the biggest smile ever. I’m not ashamed to say that on Sunday night, I rewound that last scene three times with that smile firmly on my face.

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And if some day, 5 years, 10 years, 20 years time, I wake up and decide that I wanted to share my life with another man again, I would not fight it or allow the toxicity of 2015 to stop me from loving again or doing whatever I wanted.

So, tomorrow, there will be no romantic cards professing undying love.

There will be no heart shaped expensive chocolates to stuff my face with.

There will be no three course dinners with champagne to celebrate love.

There will be no man looking at me and declaring undying love.

But that is perfectly fine.

My tomorrow will still be filled with love.

It will be filled with the love for myself that makes me strive to be the best that I can be.

It will be filled with love that means that I will stay firmly on my diet and keep striving to lose my excess weight.

And more importantly, it will be filled with the unwavering and unconditional love of my family.

My weight has been the same for the last two weeks. This morning, my body gave me an early Valentine’s Day present by losing 1.3 kg (2.86lbs) in one day.

As of today wearing my PJ and not the official weigh-in day outfit, I am 86.4 kg. I do not remember the last time I was 86.4 kg. 

If I lose two more pounds, I will be a weight that I haven’t been since I was a teenager.

Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone who reads this diary. May you have love, peace and every happiness.

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9

Day 140 – I will have to be enough…for me.

I’m that girl that always “needed” to have a man in my life.

I am 42 years old and I have been in relationships since I was 20 years old. I went immediately from a short relationship when I was 20, to a 6 year relationship, followed immediately by another short emotionally intense and mind-blowingly passionate relationship and then 14 years with my soon to be ex-husband.

The old me would have signed up to dating websites or wherever you meet single men these days, the day in February, I found out about my husband’s emotional affair. By now, I would have been firmly established in another no doubt unsuitable relationship, with the man fully labelled as a significant other. That relationship would have been doomed even before it had even started, given my current state of mind and the pattern of repetitive behaviour, I have only now accepted, which mean that I am drawn to the wrong men, even though I had thought my ex was the complete opposite in looks, virility and values to the men I dated in the past.

I need to work on myself to avoid repeating past mistakes.

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This time, I will not jump into another relationship, not now, probably, not ever.

I will never marry again nor live with any man ever again.

I will never allow another man to come into my life, share my life, get emotionally attached, become dependant on him or give him the ability to hurt and devastate my life. Nor would any man ever know everything about my life like my ex did, every single thing that mattered, and thereby acquire plenty of ammunition to hurt me, should he turn out to be yet another wrong one.

I thought I was smart and streetwise but what a naïve, trusting fool I was.

As clichéd as it might sound, this divorce is my chance to re-discover myself, re-discover who I used to be, get strong and healthy, allow myself to grieve properly for as long as it takes, heal properly, discover new interests, new things, new people, new joys and to stand by myself, without ever becoming emotionally, mentally, financially or physically dependent or connected with another man.

I have had my share of so called soul mates and loves of my life. I will be my own soul mate and the love of my own life.

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I will have to be enough for myself in the future. I will embrace singlehood. I will embrace independence. I will embrace never ever giving any man power over me, ever again.

I will embrace loneliness remembering that you can live with someone and yet be the loneliest woman alive when you become insignificant because they are stuck in their own little planet, distracted by chasing greener grasses.

This weight-loss quest is the beginning of my self love. It is the beginning of finding myself and the fit, beautiful, slim, happy person that I have always meant to be.

One fine day in the future (however long that takes), when the hurt and heartbreak have sufficiently healed and I have finally, legally untangled myself from my ex, I shall celebrate the birth of my life as Ms Belle – who is just fine on her own.

It doesn’t mean that I am now a man hater or that my male friends have all suddenly grown devilish horns.

And it most certainly doesn’t mean that I will be giving up on sex. Fuck no. When the time is right, I have 14 years of bad or no sex to make up for!

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8

Day 95 – No Knight in Shining Armour

I am still keeping to my diet 100%.

Even though I don’t feel like eating, I force myself to eat regularly and to drink 4 litres of water daily. Tomorrow is official weigh-in day. Fingers crossed that I will have some good news to share…

I’ve had a couple of readers email to say that they can no longer access my blog. Apparently, Sky switched off porn access from their broadband unless you opt out. Bloody nanny state. Oh they haven’t decided that my blog has pornographic content, they have decided to restrict access for “suicidal and self harm contents”. Say what??? O2 in their wisdom have decided to classify my blog as over 18, requesting credit card as proof of age.

Sadly, the solutions are to change your broadband setting, include the blog as an allowed site or on 02, show the proof of age.

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If you’ve managed to fight the nannies to read any of this, well done, power to the people, and thank you for your support. And thank you to every single one of you who visit this blog.

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One day, this blog will go back to obsessing about food, weight loss, fashion, music, travel, food, restaurants and all the things I love.

One day, far far far far far away in the future, I may even make some of you blush when I describe crushing on some cute guy or having mind-blowing sex. Sky can then block me for pornographic content. Fuckers.

I’m sorry but today is not that day…

This morning, I woke up and I sat there in the dark and had a very long cry. My crying was interrupted by a phone call by my sister; I can’t explain how amazing my mum and sisters have been to me.

The lack of sleep isn’t helping; sleeping pills aren’t helping but hopefully, a change in medication today will do the trick. I also have a psychiatry appointment in early June and I’m hoping I can hang on until then. The clinic will see me if I need to see someone earlier which gives me hope help is nearby.

I suspect that I will be getting therapy for years to come to recover from the trauma of the last couple of months.

I wasn’t crying because I am some sort of victim, woe me, poor me, isn’t my life utterly shite. I guess the stark reality of my situation hits me daily.

There is only so much that I can share on this blog. I am a strong person but this has totally floored me. Every day, I find out new things that hurt me.

This morning, I felt extremely vulnerable because I have basically allowed a serpent who I should never have trusted with anything, let alone, with every aspect of my life to share my bed.

This man knows every intimate detail of my life. He knows all my secrets. As an accountant and a banker, he knows all my income and expenditure, even more than I do. This morning, I couldn’t even find my cheque books as I don’t know where he’s kept them.

He knows where the bodies are buried. I don’t know who he is. I can’t trust him to do the right thing.

This morning, it finally dawned on me that in all the time my husband was pretending to be working on our marriage, while secretly carrying on with the mistress he had sworn on his mother’s life he had broken up with, he was merely buying time to prepare himself for divorce. Time to acquire the Deeds to the house we own jointly. To acquire every detail of my finances. Time to plan his life, secretly find a flat and prepare himself for what he seems to do best, which is fucking with my life.

It has dawned on me that the events that occurred on 18th April, the last day I saw him, were engineered by him and his mistress to draw an end to our marriage and his pretences.

Who is this man? Who is this serpent? How can I still be discovering things this man has done to hurt me? What on earth have I done to him to deserve the bad treatment?

I have decided that I will not tell any friends about the end of my marriage until I get my shit sufficiently together. This week, one of my closest friends who knew something was wrong as I had bailed Facebook and wasn’t keeping in touch managed to unknowingly upset me when I finally told him after he threatened to contact my husband to find out what was wrong with me. He means well.

Even though I only told him the briefest details of recent events, his reaction was that of huge shock. He kept saying none of this makes any sense because he knows both of us and knows how very much in love and utterly devoted we were. This is classic midlife crisis. He’s seen it happen all the time. He insisted he uses us as an exemplary marriage when he counsels other couples. It doesn’t make sense. He went on and on putting me on the defensive when I know that I had tried my best to save my marriage. I was willing to try marriage counselling but my husband wouldn’t.

He’s the one that left. I tried my best to save my marriage following discovery of the affair but I can’t force someone to stay married to me when he doesn’t want to.

This morning, it has also dawned on me that there is no man or friend who will rescue me from my current woes and make things better.

There is no knight in shining armour galloping gallantly to try and save me from the craptastic time I’m having right now.

Every one has got their own shit to deal with and will not be leaving theirs to try and make this transition easier for me.

Depending on a man for the last 14 years hasn’t done me much good.

I will have to do this by myself. I will have to save myself

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Right now, if I want to wake up every day and sit there for hours and hours and cry my eyes out, then so be it. I shall cry until I have no tears.

If I need to have that long postponed mental breakdown, end up in a hospital for the summer, then so be it.

One thing is clear though, I will have to tap into all that is within me to dig myself out of this utter hell and move on with my life as best as I can.

But one day, some day, it will happen, that day isn’t today and that is OK too.

todays pain

5

Day 93: A Mother’s Love

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.

Divorce-house

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.

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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.

mother's love