I’ve been pondering my single status again lately – just for a change – and it occurs to me that I’m a completely different person to the one I was when I last had a relationship.
I mean, I’ve had a child since then. And it’s amazing how radically that changes things.
In the pre-infant years, I would have listed my main interests as travelling, going to the gym and socialising. Nowadays, the latter two activities are almost off my radar and the former – although still something I do whenever possible – has taken on a completely different form.
Now, my holiday destinations are not so much chosen for their cultural richness as for the number of parks and infant entertainment options I’m likely to find in the vicinity.
But it’s not just the practical things that have changed: my character has changed too. I have, in some ways, become more patient – not that you’d know it if you saw me chivvying the little man on the nursery run.
Perhaps patient isn’t exactly what I mean, but … tiny tantrums definitely teach you the value of a poker face, and no one knows the meaning of the phrase, ‘pick your battles’ like the mother of a toddler.
As a matter of fact, patience isn’t exactly a family virtue and I admit that I may not have always been the most mellow of partners in the past. So … would I be an easier person to be with, now that I’m a mum? Or would the poker face that I so ably display with the little guy be completely redundant in interaction with grown-ups?
Not that I’m likely to find out anytime soon. The Forester and I have exchanged one measly text, which doesn’t suggest super-high levels of engagement from either side. And, of course, I discovered that the Phantom Texter is married.
It almost went without saying, didn’t it?
He finally declared his intent, and I told him how flattered I was (and I was; he’s a highly attractive gentleman) … but didn’t he have a wife? To give him his due, he didn’t deny it or answer obliquely – just expressed regret that he was now no longer a contender for my attentions.
On the one hand, I’m truly disappointed; on the other … do I look like the kind of woman who’d be happy as a mistress??!
It never ceases to amaze me just how many men – men who are otherwise kind, intelligent and reasonable – think it’s OK to play around behind their partner’s back. I honestly don’t get it. If you love her, why would you cheat on her? And if you don’t love her, why would you stay with her?
I suppose the phrase, “having your cake and eating it” applies, and the answer to the question is simply because you can. Unless I have a peculiar ability to attract that sort of ‘gentleman’, I’d keep a very close eye on any man I got involved with.
Or maybe women are just as bad. I wouldn’t know.
Anyway, it’s just my luck that the first gentleman in months (if not years) to pay me any kind of attention turns out to be ineligible. It was fun to look forward to his messages and, if I’m honest, have someone care about how my day was, how I’m feeling and whether I’m alive or dead.
(Apart from my mum. My mum cares. Obviously.)
Because let’s not beat about the bush here: it gets awfully lonely being a single mum in a world of coupled-up parents. I’m sick and tired of being the ‘strong woman’; I just want someone to give me a cuddle, make me dinner (toast is OK) … or even just talk to me.
I mean, I love the little guy to bits but there’s only so much you can say about Peppa-bloody-Pig before you want to climb the walls. Weekends of undiluted toddler talk are pretty tough.
But I don’t want to be ‘the other woman’ and I never will. Alone is the last place I want to be, but alone with someone else’s man? No thanks.
4 thoughts on “Who am I?”
Good job… Just be flattered that you are still attractive to someone’s eyes.
I’m trying… there must be some single guys out there, though … right?
“To have someone care about how my day was, how I’m feeling and whether I’m alive or dead” yes and shame that is it so much better from an attractive man. I miss that too I realise. I literally have no one to depend upon or who is even interested. Thought to create a network of people in my boat called textmedaily or something, but it would be too forced, It just wouldn’t be the same
I don’t know if it is better from an attractive man (or even an unattractive one…!), it’s just that we’re rarely the focus of someone else’s world unless they’re our other half. Friends do care, but their lives are full of commitments and bills and dirty nappies and lord knows what else so, logically, we only pop into their minds around all that. I suppose the answer is to build up a network of friends in a similar situation … but in my case, there seems to be no overlap between friends with kids and friends who are singletons. Perhaps in a few years, when the little guy is bigger. I hope you don’t have to wait that long, though. If you discover the secret, please let me know!