Adoration

I've never been single for long, and very soon after my separation, I started looking again. Through both my long-time damaged self-worth and the need for dependency ingrained into me through my toxic marriage, I felt that I needed a relationship. I was broken; emotionally battered and bruised, and thought a man would help me to heal that hurt. So I joined the terrifying world of online dating for the first time in my life.

My self-esteem was so low at first that I 'swiped left' on a lot of very attractive men, considering them way out of my league. My first date was a terrifying affair, with a nice man that I didn't actually feel any physical attraction to at all. Thankfully that fizzled out to nothing, and while making online connections my confidence began to grow. I'm sure my rapidly declining weight was a significant factor in this too! I had a few dates with different men, then a few dates with one man. The flagpole was bowing under the weight of so many red flags, but I felt so shit about myself and so desperate for connection that I ignored them. It was clear that he wasn't being honest with me about himself and his history. It took far longer than it should have for me to stop seeing him. I later found out the truth about him, and I'm relieved that I got out when I did. Cautiously, I tried again.

My first date with A was casual and relaxed. We bought takeaway coffees and sat in a sunny park, lounging on a picnic blanket and chatting. Neither of us realised that we had been sitting there so long that we were sunburned, we had been enjoying each other's company too much. We stumbled over each other, sharing embarrassing tales from our own pasts and strange commonalities as we found them. I was charmed, but still very nervous and cautious. Right from the start, he was completely honest with me. A had also separated around the same time as I had, but while I no longer felt an emotional or romantic connection with my ex, A did. As I had done with my previous dalliance, I ignored the warning signs. I persisted, and after a bump or two in the road, we were together.

I felt alive again. A was thoughtful, considerate and fun. My confidence soared and I was like a giggling teenager. I blushed when I talked about him, and I'm sure my friends and colleagues were tired of me talking about him. Soppy love songs took on new meaning, and my troubles with C all seemed so much more manageable. I loved that his son was always his first priority and that he was still considerate of his ex's feelings and needs, despite her having treated him quite poorly. He would often joke that he's not a typical guy; and he was right. He really isn't a typical guy. He's a Nice Guy. Having encountered very few Nice Guys in my life, it's no surprise that I fell pretty hard for him. I adored him, and I still consider myself extremely lucky to have met him when I did. He was exactly what I needed.

After a time - and in hindsight, not enough time - I introduced A to my children. The girls were quite happy with him being around, and he was sensible enough not to force any kind of connection on them. J was around more than her sister, as S was still spending half of her time with her Dad at this point. I did notice a difference between the girls in their comfort levels around A, but I put that down to the shared custody arrangement and that J knew him better. I discovered far too late that their Dad had been feeding S with 'concerns' about A. If A stayed over when I was on-call for work, S would be strongly advised to lock her door in case she be left home with A without my supervision. Following a night like this when I had in fact been called to work all night, C used this in court as 'evidence' of my placing her at risk. I trust A implicitly, both now and then, and there's no question of my leaving the children with someone I didn't trust. C had no basis for these concerns other than that it fitted his narrative of the hard-done by father with an unstable baby mama. After all, I'm sure his girlfriend has been alone with S on multiple occasions. 

After a few pretty mind-blowing months with A, his ongoing attachment to his ex was becoming more and more problematic. He never lied to me, he told me multiple times that she still had a hold on him. I was the one that heard it but still chose to dismiss it. Eventually, it was this that broke us. We broke up just after Christmas, during that awful time when S had freshly been taken from me and was still in her father's bewitchment. This separation was more painful by far than the end of my marriage, but it needn't have been. I shouldn't have let myself get in as deep as I did, when the signs were there from the start. I should have recognised that he wasn't ready for the kind of relationship I wanted. However, it was better to be hurt then than completely broken later, particularly now when J needs me so much. We're still friends, and I still care very deeply for him.

A is slowly realising that his situation was more like mine than he thought. His was an abusive relationship, in which his ex expected constant adoration and above all; compliance. I'm fairly certain that she engineered our relationship ending, even though she had moved on with someone else. It was clear that she didn't like him being with me, and even now she still has some control over who he can spend time with. I'm working on getting him to access the same kind of help I had, but he's a stubborn fecker who is also afflicted by possession of bollocks in a society where female-perpetrated domestic abuse is still a subject of hilarity. Toxic masculinity has a lot to answer for. 

I've been single since A. I've had a few dates, but when they haven't swept me off my feet, I've felt able to say so. Single parenting - particularly with a child with advanced mental health needs - doesn't exactly allow much time for more than the occasional date anyway. This may be the longest time I've been single in my entire adult life, but I think I've needed it. I'm learning to respect and value myself more, and I'm appreciating this time of self reflection and discovery. I'm being entirely self-sufficient, which is terrifying but also empowering. I know that if and when I meet someone again, I'll be much more careful. I feel much more confident in holding out for Mr Right - someone like A, but without the emotional baggage. I'll trust my instincts when something doesn't feel right and I won't be so scared of being single that I'll settle for someone who doesn't adore me.