Well, where does one start?
The marriage is over and has been for a long time. It seems that was only one-sided however. The definition of Marriage is “…recognised union” so how can you have a one-sided union?
The last three weeks have been a mindfuck, and there is no better phrase I know for that. I’ve been in compromising positions physically, mentally and sexually. I’ve been at my lowest mood in a long time. I’ve been at the happiest high since moving to Essex. I’ve gone through the female version of Blue Balls causing non-stop fanny flutters in the same day. I’ve drained my bank account half to the end of my overdraft.
After all of this, I’m sat in Starbucks a stones throw away from work. Having a day off but the only people I’ve spoken to are work people.
To start from the beginning (ish). I met a man called Dave through work. We met during Lockdown and things went from 0-100 pretty quick. He proposed in 6 months. We bought a house in the first year, we married in 18 months. After moving to Braintree I massively missed my friend group in Cambridge, I missed the life in the city. I missed the fact I could walk to town (not that I did but I could if wanted to). I missed that there was always something to do! Essex has loads going on but not much of it goes on in Braintree. And I didn’t know anyone, it was pretty bloody lonely. I was still working 12hr shifts in Cambridge so when I did have a day off it was mainly spent recovering then housework, laundry, shopping etc etc. I’d love to say I was a domestic queen but that isn’t even close. There’d be spouts of energy and the house be spotless but it wouldn’t last long, if completely finished at all.
Then I moved jobs, from Braintree to Cambridge everyday to Maldon, Witham and Grays. Hours were better but it was Mon-Fri so no random Wednesday off. Working with Dave so we ended up talking work 100% of the time rather than 80%. We started growing apart before then but I can only pinpoint then. I think I’m choosing to forget to be totally honest with you. We’d spend the evenings watching our separate tablets and shows, headphones on and barely acknowledging each other.
Quick break because a song has just come on my headphones that’s made me smile. Chloe Adams “Dirty Thoughts” has particular meaning at the moment, we’ll go in to that a bit more later but right now I needed a moment of appreciation.
And we’re back. I felt I had no freedom, I felt as if I was trapped by my own decisions. I chose to marry this man, I chose to buy a house with him, I chose to move to Essex. I’m a bit of a stubborn fucker, so I certainly wasn’t going to shout out “Heeeyy, sorry mate but I don’t think I should have married you”. And yes, I know I should have done but I didn’t. We stopped having sex about 6 months before the wedding and that never started back up again. Quick rewind ’cause that’s a weird one …
I like sex. I like intimacy. I like all the things leading up to all of that but I’m not the most confident of women. I’m not attractive, I’m way overweight and I’m shy because of all that. I learnt pretty young that older men are sometimes just as insecure and will have sex with you if you initiate. *Disclaimer – don’t do what I do/have done*. As we all know, even if we don’t admit it, sex is often used as a way of validating that we’re worthy as women and sometimes humans. I’ve given a hand job on train back from a night out, I’ve started a situationship with men 30 years older than me and now I look back I realise I used them. I’m sure they got something out of it but my purpose wasn’t to spend my life with them as a partner, it was make myself feel like I was a good enough person to be on this planet. Long explanation short, I initiated sex a lot in in mine and Dave’s relationship. Like, most of the time.
There was one occasion we’re I made The Move and he’s was feeling it. He was a bit of a marshmallow and it wasn’t going in to a stick of rock anytime soon so, frustrated, I asked him what was up. I can’t remember the exact words but it gist was that I would wait until he initiated something and I’d back off.
Forward on to after the wedding, after being in the Maldon/Witham/Grays job a year or so and I needed change. I needed a new challenge in work because I wasn’t getting one anywhere else. A recruiter got in touch at the right time and now I’ve landed a job with progression, with new things to learn, with new people to meet and it was only 10 min dirve from home! Annd the hours were super short – like 0800-1600. Being used to being out of the house for 14+ hours a day for work, this was a dream.
Everyone I met firstly was awesome, friendly and welcoming. I was the youngest by 15 years so I was back in the comfort zone of learning and listening and with little expectations. As people moved on, faces changed and the few that are now left have become close friends. I know people talk about trauma bonding at work but it’s definitely real. One of those bonds turned in to a crush, now I think it’s more of a limerence thing but that’s a relatively new word for me. You know when you get a word for a situation or feeling that you didn’t know had a word? Limerence is one of those that explains so much. I don’t know if TicTok has made it more available or trendy or what but I’m sure I’m not the only one to have this revelation this year.
Now we’re up to almost the current era I’d like to thank you for staying with me for all these random brain dump of thoughts. I’m still in Starbucks, coffee is almost finished and I’ve had one cigarette and one work call. Win, win and win!
Back to the Crush. No names because I’m a coward and protective over this person. When we started becoming more friends than colleagues he was in a volatile long term relationship. Obvs I only heard his side of things but she’s got issues, family/anger/drink issues. I was happy to be a shoulder to cry on, to be an ear and a sounding board as that meant I spent more time with him. It meant I got closer to him, I got to know more about him and what made him tick. That also meant the feelings grew. I’d be sat on my sofa at home staring off in to the distance thinking of him and running through all possible scenarios that could go on in the yard. Some were so innocent I tricked myself into thinking it was perfectly fine to think about this whilst married. Most were not, and very much not. We’d go out for a drink or dinner or coffee, just the 2 of us and it’d be like mates catching up. There’d be no suggestion of anything more than a platonic friendship. In the back of my head I’d be thinking, well he’s been in my car, he’s shown me around his city, he must like me. And this just feeds in to the insecurities I think we all have as women on some level ’cause tell me why does me helping him shop for Christmas gifts for his mum mean he wans to fuck me?!
