My life is too complicated. If only I wasn’t divorced…

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Continuing the theme of an ideal life is a simple life… My life has unfortunately got more complicated as I have got older. Or it may be because I got divorced. Or in a new relationship with someone who also had children, so we have become a kind of ‘blended family’, albeit one who doesn’t live together. I am glad that all the men involved have relationships with their offspring,and actually grit my teeth a lot to make sure it happens with the minimum of drama, but it does make life more complicated. Weirdly, the oldest progeny (in her twenties) needs more attention than the teenager….  I wonder how I got to this situation. I felt I had done all the right things, and should have been ‘rewarded’.  I had tried, I felt, very hard, to be with the father of  my child forever. If only he had felt the same, and his behaviour had reflected this.I  had one child, was married to her father for almost twenty years. I even felt a bit smug… I was part of a an Endangered Tribe. Very few of us had made it this far. But pride comes before a fall, and all that. I had reckoned without an online-dating habit. Among other unsavoury habits.

But when you have a child with someone, if they have an involvement in said child’s life, you are stuck with them, even if you are divorced. Although my daughter is a teenager, and  can make her own arrangements to see her father, he still needs to co-ordinate holidays etc with me. We only have six weeks in the summer to go away. He in theory asks me if dates are suitable, in practise tells me the holidays he has booked… He wasn’t enormously cooperative when we were married, so logically he wasn’t going to improve when we divorced. Although the ability to make my life (more) complicated will become less over the years, we are still tied. An umbilical cord that goes beyond the obvious. Our daughter will graduate, get married, have children ( probably). And we will both have to be there, and I will have to pretend that I forgive him.  The father of my only child, who I feel  (illogically?) biologically bonded with forever.  I loved him dearly, and he betrayed that. In the worst possible way. And I may be wonderfully civilised in public, but I don’t think I will ever forgive such a betrayal of my love.

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