I suppose I didn’t see it coming. Sure we are still standing and yes we had been resilient. There are still loads to be thankful for like good health to overcome a new wave of covid infection that is tearing through the city/ world at the moment and friends that are willing to spend Christmas with us despite us having caught the virus, enough vaccines to go around the adults getting them boosted to fight another bout, a NHS that’s still fighting and not overwhelmed by this wave, a lovely warm home and the ability to put food on the table and presents under the tree because mummy and daddy work hard in this household to make the income that pays taxes and buys nice things.
That’s an easy half a dozen of things to be glad about already, but this year, my values were shattered to its very core as I reviewed what I thought it meant to be a mother and a partner. I admit, I used to view myself as weak if I didn’t keep a clean house and only pursued my own happiness rather than the others in my household. I thought that if I didn’t perform mum duties as well as earn my own keep then I wasn’t a worthy woman. I thought I could handle the juggle and keep it real and raise great kids and take on the world. But noooooo, January’s lockdown called all of that to question.
I broke on week 1 of homeschooling. Not this shite again, this time with a sassy almost six year old who plainly told me to quit bossing her around. I was tired of the mental juggling with no list of things to look forward to( usually I made a whole load of travel plans in Jan). My husband was unhappy with his work which made getting out of bed so much harder for him too. Gloomy days, locked in with energetic children and unhappy parents.
Then came the unhappy conversations we had of our friends leaving London, and his unfruitful yet all-consuming pursuit of the perfect job. The juggle didn’t get better. Mentally, we were so burdened that no one conceded to take on anymore. We couldn’t bear to, it would break what little we still had. Loads of laundry, life admin, children raising shitpile, meal after meal after meal. You get the idea of the chugging along that we endured. Everyday a Groundhog Day, every week a new fight about the same old shit about how neither of us were getting any happier, and nothing was making a difference. At this point, perhaps a divorce could have been remedial.
But then the steps to come out of lockdown were announced, with Easter on the way, and outdoor classes resumed, schools reopened, the Husband being offered two jobs after his dark months, us getting British Citizenship, I booked us multiple UK staycations throughout May and summer, it felt like we could make it through.
Delta had other plans however, it took from me the one person that I had ever felt had authority over me. Without my father’s guidance in this world, I no longer knew who to share my career or children’s milestones with. Who would I video call to talk me through how to fix a plumbing issue or an electricity fault? The husband knew zilch life skills and never found it particularly an emasculating skill set to possess, happy to let me sort those out with my dad.
That was my May, plan after plan cancelled as I, wrecked with grief, barely survived through the pain.
It wasn’t until October that our sunshine came back. Ten years recapped at a Michelin starred fine dining restaurant, where we recalled the several years where we were warriors side by side and shared the same views. True the world is a far more fluid place these days than it used to be. I feel inclined to be more flexible given I now realise how naive I used to be, but he doesn’t agree and is less willing to take on board the new world. Which is why we were at the impasse we were at. We are still together however. And after half a life spent together, building and supporting each other, I realised that I didn’t hate him despite how angry and worthless he could make me feel, (which by the way, he’d always done from the beginning), in fact I would be lost without him by my side to be the opposing view that diversifies my life. I could be a very one dimensional bland being, but together we could make a spicy combo.
So here’s the other half dozen of blessings to be grateful for this 2021, Travels to Europe, friendships rekindled, promotions and bonuses at a job I feel appreciated at, two fabulously witty girls who both are unlocking achievements each day (my eldest mastered the rubix cube and was published in a book this year!), a country that is still able to handle the pandemic without shutting down (although this might be writing too soon), a love that has endured the bad as well as the good now and is still not dead.
I know the way I complain about my marriage sometimes makes my friends alarmed and really wonder if I am better off without him in my life. However, we are both not giving up on each other just yet. I know that I am still anxious of I have no news from him when he is away, or if he is taken with Illness so I do still care. For now, it is about not expecting change or that your partner can bring you happiness. It is about not expecting someone else to owe you or give you anything good in this world but counting on yourself. Because when your walls crumble and your vulnerable self was as exposed as mine were this year, you take one brick at a time and kintsugi style rebuild the wall. Mine is more opaque now. It lets the light shine through, in and out. I don’t hide my struggles and I don’t promote lies. I only aim to build up others with my learnings from 2021 and apologise to those that I had unknowingly shunned in my past.
