The "D-word"

First and foremost - this is going to be a simple, matter of fact kind of post.

For those wondering why I've been quiet here - I've been busy.  I've been crying.  I've been stressed to the max.  I've been happy and have good days too.

First of all - I apologize I've been absolutely crap at updating this blog and making vlogs.  My phone speaker is busted - but today I realized (over a year later) that I could just look like a dork and film with headphones or earphones for the sound to work properly.  Duh.

So, my goal is to get back onto that.

Now, the D-word.
It's not pleasant - it's not a happy thing.

The PIC (Partner in Crime) and I are getting a divorce.  I filed it this past week.
I'm sure you're wondering why - simply, we just fell apart and didn't love each other anymore.  Of course there are a variety of little things - and funny enough, it's always the little things that mean the most and can impact the most as well.

He's still my PIC.  He's my friend - one could even say he's a best friend (which I define by how comfortable I am with farting around someone to be honest!) .
He's a great father and I will even go further and say he's a great guy.
He's the better parent in terms of patience and the ability to think things through.

We are just too opposite.  We want different things.
But the main thing we want is our kids to be happy and ourselves as well.
Our kids are the main priority currently and the transition of things has been noticed by the kids within the last few months.

First of all, this was not an easy decision.  PIC and I had been together for 10 years (2016) before I decided I would be filing.
We had been through a lot - moving from one country to another, having separated temporarily for a couple of months prior to moving to Finland and so on.

It's something that I was going to write about a year ago, after careful consideration and thought for a few months last year.  PIC requested I didn't say anything publicly until it was official.

While it takes 6-months to accept and be fully processed in Finland - I feel it's safe now to post this.

I do not want to glorify divorce.  I don't have an opinion on those divorcing, fighting through to save their marriage or whatever their situation may be.  Their situation is their own thing and for us - we are doing our thing.
We tried therapy several times, we tried to patch things up - but it all boiled down to the same things that set us apart and eventually we couldn't take it anymore.
Or I guess I couldn't - since I am the one filing.

I will not have a celebratory party like some people do - nor, will we do a divorce selfie (apparently this is the latest trend??).
Although, I totally get those that trash their dress when in the situation where they escaped a really negative and hurtful marriage!

We didn't tell many people about the divorce because we didn't want people to feel bad for us.  We wanted to keep a strong, united front for the kids (and dogs) and also, financially - it was just smarter.

We continued to live together contently and our kids never noticed that Mommy and Daddy didn't hug or kiss.  They're young and forgetful and it worked in our favour.
We still hung out and watched movies when the kids went to sleep.  We still took the kids to places together - we just simply didn't wear our wedding bands and nobody said anything.
In all fairness, he rarely wore his anyway due to Crohn's affecting his weight and him not wanting to lose his ring.
When I started cooking school - I wasn't allowed wearing it during kitchen hours - so just left it at home.

But recently, things have changed and I moved out.

So I decided I would take advantage of all these students moving out nearby and rent a tiny student flat for the summer.
I tried to bring the dogs with me - while it had enough space - Milo couldn't handle it.  I truly believe he had a panic attack of grand proportions and because I only will have this flat for now until August - it doesn't make sense to condition and teach him it's a safe space - only to start all over again in 2.5 months.

For me, moving to a tiny TINY flat - forces me to get rid of my crap.  I had so many things in the bedroom that I was embarrassed.
I found gym clothes I didn't even know I had - and hadn't worn in years (or ever).
I dug out four 150L bags of garbage from the bedroom.  I hadn't even gone under the bed yet!
That is sad.

For me, it is like hitting rock bottom with my second-hand shopping obsession and craft supplies etc.

So, I'm cleaning out this summer.  That's my summer holidays with the kids.
I'm splitting a table at the second-hand shop and only posting stuff there I KNOW will sell!

So! How have the kids been handling it?
V-Man probably hasn't noticed much.

You see, I have been going to the gym at night time once the kids are settled in bed around 7-8pm anyway.  So they never see me at night typically and now that I've moved out - I leave about the same time and come back for the dogs then drop them off before heading home again.

A-Man noticed that I had packed DVDs and was asking why I did it.  I told him I was cleaning up.
Of course everything I packed didn't and couldn't come with me.  But I wanted to plan for August, where I planned to move then anyhow.

Here's a conversation we had:

"Mommy why you have a new place?"
"Because Mommy and Daddy fight a lot and we are not happy.  But we love you, M-Girl and V-Man and the doggies very much!"
"Well, I'm going to fight with Daddy!"
"No.  Daddy is super nice and you need to be nice to Daddy and listen.  No fighting."
"Well, if you get a new home - then we don't have a Mommy."

*Cue tears.
I then had to explain that he'll always have us as parents and that we aren't replacing anyone or anything like that.
We did try our best to not fight in front of the kids after our first major fight a year ago and A-Man boldly told us to go in different rooms on time out and then after we had to apologize and hug/kiss each other to say sorry.
Thankfully, we never fought much to begin with!

M-Girl has been a bit up and down with me having my own space - even though I'm a 15-minutes walk from door to door - but of course, being the youngest - she's a little confused.

So as it stands right now - we will continue to co-parent the best way we can and eventually when I can get a larger flat and preferably closer to V-Man's school so there's less stress about the taxi - then we can attempt some bi-weekly arrangement so we both get equal free-time.

And that's pretty much it!
It's been an interesting journey and writing this all out has been incredibly therapeutic for me.

So I thank you for reading and following and tolerating my poky self when it comes to posting here!
XOXO
BIMU

9

I've recently reached my 9th anniversary recently and I wonder where the time has gone.
It certainly has had its ups and downs but I'm finally happy.

For me, marriage takes 100% from each partner. It's not "team work" if you only give 50% in the hopes of reaching 100% together. Aiming for 100% each allows for the possibility of screw ups and unexpected surprises and if you really both give your 100% - you will reach 100% together - probably even more! Even if there are some unexpected events tossed in that may bring you down or hold you back a bit.
I also believe that no marriage is perfect. We have just reached our 9-years anniversary and I'm very fortunate because it honestly took me having an affair at 3-years and losing my husband and my dogs- in order for me to realize that a marriage shouldn't be 50/50.

What? Why? Who with?
I did something fairly stupid, and I don't support affairs at all generally speaking.
However, our marriage was crumbling because of my husband's Crohn's - he often felt too ill to be with me and the passion that used to be there had quickly gone kaput. I tried everything. Making fancier meals or meals that he craved and could digest, trying to like music he liked in the car, watching endless hours of television and for goodness sake-buying lingerie and prancing about in it.

What did it do? Nothing. And this was life before stretch marks and saggy boobs! He would just continue reading or working and I felt like I wasn't needed and certainly not loved at all. I'm not saying sex is the be all and end all of a relationship but for me, in a marriage- it plays a minor (but strong) role in comparison to the other parts of what makes up a marriage. And not just a crap sex life- just not spending time together other than a bit of television or a short dinner conversation- it seemed that work came before me at all levels.
So I sought comfort in a work colleague and stupid me again, that person turned out to be dangerous. An alcoholic since they were a teenager, living at home with their parents and while I was never physically abused- verbally and emotionally was another story.
But why? Because I was alone. I had 4 cats and 2 dogs that gave me unconditional love and I felt I couldn't get that quality of love from another human that was supposed to be my spouse for life!

Do I regret it? Of course I do.
Do I blame the Hubster? No. Never. I sought someone else and got the attention, the conversation, the partner I had been missing for over 6 months. That would be all on me and something I carry with me forever.

How did we get over this major bump in the road?
First- we separated. I eventually got out of the affair as quickly as I could and had to deal with constant harassment from that person. Punishment for my stupidity I suppose.
I moved in with a good friend whom my husband trusted and we did great. The Hubster and I had to be friends again and see if we could find any hint of a relationship first before jumping back into playing house together and planning kids and so on.
Next was therapy. I was fortunate enough to have an employee help program at work and we were booked therapy sessions quickly.
It genuinely helped having a non-judgmental and neutral (yet educated) stranger listen to our issues. I told the Hubster and the therapist the same things I told the affair person- "I genuinely didn't feel like I was in a relationship or being loved. I found a  co-worker that was a friend and from there - something clicked."
I then began to have horrible nightmares about that person to the point my therapist recommended I take some over the counter sleeping/calming drops. Nightmares about being called racist names (of which I had been texted regularly), being chased and found in my new home with my room mate, finding my husbands body murdered-it sounds cliche but it felt real and I couldn't stop or control the nightmare. (I normally can wake myself up or change the dream if I don't like what's going on.)

You know those movies where the woman is constantly looking over her shoulder for her stalker with the creepy music bursting in the background?

That was me. Every day until I boarded a plane to Finland.
Sometimes I still have those nightmares-and it's frustrating. I've dreamt he found my little baby V-Man and did a lot of bad things.
I've had to change my email address because I got nasty emails from the person suggesting I go die, and that their New Years resolution/wish is that me and my little family get in a horrible car crash.
Funny enough (I don't know how I can find anything amusing in this confessional post)- he wished that my son would be autistic.
And I don't believe he was religious whatsoever, nor do I believe in the strength of a prayer for negative things- but it amazes me.
It's obviously not his doing, mine or my husband's- but holy crap-we so have an autistic child and yes, it was hell the first 3 years of his life.

Do I regret having the V-Man? No. Never.
He has taught me compassion and understanding and is continuously teaching me something new.

You see, after weeks of constant therapy and deep conversations- we decided we would try for a baby. Moving to Finland wasn't official yet and when I did get pregnant, we found out we could move to Finland sooner and have the V-Man here.
I could leave my job- which was a constant stress session as I still worked near the person and while I still got regular nasty text messages- Hubster stepped up to the plate and did his 100% by dropping me off to the door at work and picking me up in person to walk me to the car.

It's a major reason why I don't want to move back to Canada- as I have a much larger family to protect and as a mother, I don't know what I wouldn't do to protect them.  You know - those "mama bear instincts"...

So now, I'm good. I had to have a nasty 5 months affair to realize something so horrible and traumatizing could've been avoided-had I given my 100%.
While I did aim for 50% back then- sitting my partner down and tell him how I felt I was being ignored and not appreciated would have been that extra 50%.

So if you happen to be in this kind of particular situation- please reconsider. Reconsider going through everything I just ashamedly wrote and experienced (while typing on my phone at 2:40am).
I am not proud of what I did. Not one bit.
I am however, proud of who I have become and what I have discovered about myself since then.

Number 9 itself is my favourite number. Perhaps because I'm born on the 9th and maybe it's the shape. But according to various sites- 9 is a good thing.
In Chinese, 9 is pronounced like "long lasting", it's the Aquarius' lucky number (which I am one), according to the religious aspects- it's been used 49 times in Scripture and symbolizes divine completion.
(Had to Google all that as honestly- I just like the number.)

I realize that some people have affairs for a variety of reasons and they often destroy people and their families.  For some people, it's a happy ending and is an escape rope from a dangerous relationship (whether it be verbal, physical or emotional abuse) - while for others it's a chase, it's exciting and you get those butterflies back in your stomach.
I had an intense conversation with two girlfriends last night and told them about this blog post and decided I would go ahead with this blog post anyway.
Nobody's perfect and there is always a learning oppourtunity in everything you do.

Thanks for reading.
BIMU