Going solo after 37 years

When we hit midlife, we start facing the reality that life either is or isn’t as we wanted it to be. If it’s not how we want to be living, the question arises of what can we do about that?

This can be an extremely confusing time. I know for me there was a lot of anguish as I slowly realised, over a period of some years that things weren’t how I needed or wanted them to be.

Flatmates, not partners

My husband and I were living more like flatmates than partners. I was finding myself increasingly frustrated and resentful. I found it hard to be heard, hard to follow my own interests without guilt, and I was often compromising. To be honest, I had always compromised but with fluctuating oestrogen levels, that nurturing aspect that oestrogen provides had reduced and I felt more frustrated with every compromise I had to make.

I felt drained. I was trying to get my business established and it was very slow going and hard work. The support I had from my husband around my business suffered from a difference of expectations and timeframes.

I found I preferred to be on my own more and more. He would go away on various outdoor sports trips, and I would prefer to stay at home on my own to recharge my batteries.

He’s an extrovert so gets his energy from people. I’m an introvert and get my energy from quiet time. He’d want to go out, and I’d want to stay in.

Looking at life differently

After my concussion and my difficult spiritual awakening we faced many challenges. My husband worked really hard to care for me in the best way he knew how, and I’m supremely grateful for that. What a challenging time it was for my husband as well as me, but with the triple combo of perimenopause, concussion and my awakening, I began to look at life through different eyes.

I realised I was overshadowed all the time. I acquiesced, compromised, gave up what I really wanted far too often. In fact I didn’t even voice what I wanted sometimes because I felt it would be disapproved of, belittled, or not accepted, and so not raising it was just easier.

My role in all this

I’ve had to face my own reality of the part I played in all this. I’ve never been good at saying what I wanted or believed. Like many women, I’d spent my whole life being the people pleaser, the quiet one that felt it was so important to get along with everyone. I never made waves, never got terribly upset. In my family it was important to be polite, to be agreeable, to do the right thing and not be judged by society or anyone else.

When I entered into this partnership at the tender age of 18, I was a quiet little mouse, so of course my (then) future husband’s energy filled the void. Yes, I came out of my shell somewhat over the years but I never really stepped out of my husband’s shadow, and that’s on me.

Finally in my 50’s I started exploring what I really wanted, which is of course what perimenopause encourages us to do, but I didn’t know that then. I was just trying to find ‘me’.

I started looking at my future life, the next 30-50 years, and realised I didn’t want to continue on as I was. At that stage I hadn’t contemplated leaving my marriage. It wasn’t even on the cards. I was committed to a lifetime together but at the same time I could also see that there would be a lot of “putting up” with certain things, and me continuing to compromise, whilst at the same time trying to find my own forms of happiness.

Changes needed to be made

Slowly it dawned on me that things wouldn’t get any better unless I made some significant changes. I was feeling so frustrated and resentful. I kept telling my husband I needed time on my own. I just needed some space. Somewhere to be me, away from all the demands on my time. He didn’t understand what I meant and why I needed it and in reality I didn’t really understand it either, I just knew that I needed it.

I wanted to take three months, to find somewhere to stay and simply find myself again, but for various reasons that wasn’t possible. In the end I took three weeks out and moved into a small cottage near the coast. It was wonderful, but not nearly long enough and there were some background issues going on with us that meant the break away was not nearly as recuperative as I would have liked it to be.

At this point we went to counselling together. A lot of things were raised and although we’d talked about many of them over the years, having a third person reframe them for both of us was really helpful.

But I knew as we went through the counselling that this wasn’t going to work for me. That when my soul was saying I needed to be on my own, it was on a long term basis, not temporarily.

It took a long time

It took me around three years to fully admit this to myself. It was a painful and gut wrenching realisation. I was full of anguish at the pain I would cause both my husband and my grown children if I said I wanted to part company. This, for me, was one of the hardest parts. I had no wish to cause any pain to anyone and yet I needed to be true to myself. I was hurting myself more by not doing so.

For a while I felt it was better to suffer myself than hurt my husband and my boys (who were in their early 20’s). But the need to be alone felt stronger than ever and it was harder and harder to be a reasonable human being on any level. I didn’t like who I had become.

All my dreams at night were of being trapped and chased. My subconscious was letting me know this wasn’t right for me as well, but I still didn’t want to make the decision to separate.

The decision

Finally the time came when I had to admit that I just needed to be on my own. The anguish about the pain I was causing increased but was now accompanied by enormous amounts of guilt and fear.

How could I do this to them? How was I going to cope? My business wasn’t yet earning enough to live off so how would I survive? Where would I go? Would I be able to buy a house? Would I have to give up my business which I had put my heart and soul into? Was I making the wrong decision? Could I, in fact, find happiness again within the marriage? Was I acting too quickly? Should I take more time? Was I just being selfish? What would others think? How would they judge me? Would my friends still be friends?

Eventually my husband said he’d move out for a year but we quickly swapped it so I moved out, eventually renting a tiny one bedroom cottage in a country town that allowed my healing to begin. Finally I felt like I could breathe.

After a year of separation, it was clear to me that I still needed to be alone. I felt calmer, clearer, more energised, less frustrated, less resentful. Going back into the relationship felt wrong and would undo any healing I’d worked so hard to achieve. It was at that point that I made the difficult decision that I should be on my own permanently.

The fear

I was TERRIFIED. Not of being alone, I absolutely loved that. I was terrified of my future, or current lack of one. I was terrified at a survival level, of the lack of security and safety that had always been afforded me and which I’d never recognised before.

I reminded myself over and over that this was what I wanted, and it absolutely was. I knew it was right for me in my heart, but in my head I was completely freaking out. How on earth was I going to survive, to find a place to live that I could actually afford, and to continue to build my business to which I was so deeply drawn to? I hadn’t anticipated this scenario when I set up my business and I didn’t expect my marriage to fall apart only a year in to my business.

I could see why so many people go back to what is comfortable, even if they are unhappy, because being in the liminal space of the unknown is frightening. It takes a brave heart to continue on.

Moving

The owner of the property I was renting decided to sell, so I moved in with my mother until our house was sold and the settlement came through. I expected to be there three months. I ended up living with her for a year. This was definitely not what I thought my life would look like in my mid fifties!

I was house hunting the whole time but nothing suitable was coming up, and it was at the peak of the market as well so most houses were out of my price range.

To give both my mother and I some space, I went house sitting every few weeks, which was great in many ways, but also involved constant packing and unpacking, moving locations, and living life by others rules. It added to the unsettled feeling.

Finding and losing security

I got a part time job that I was thrilled to bits with that would support me and allow me to build my business as well as complete some extra qualifications. Unfortunately after two weeks in the role, the owner returned from an overseas trip, reassessed her finances, and decided to close the shop, reduce staff numbers and go online. I was back to where I started and back came the fears around survival.

I was SO disappointed and downhearted. I was still living with my mother, desperate to find my own house and not making much headway in my business.

It all falls into place

I threw myself into my study and, just when I was about to give up on my house search and buy any old thing, a house came on the market that I had admired every time I went past on my long walks.

Purchasing the house was stressful in itself, not because I was doing it on my own, but because the vendors kept chopping and changing their minds. But it eventually became mine and from that time things started to fall into place.

As I settled into my new home, my stress levels reduced, my business picked up, my happiness increased and a sense of peace and contentment took over.

I haven’t looked back since then. Things just get better and better. I’m finding such joy in creating my own space, one that truly reflects me without compromise. I love the silence, and living life the way I want to. I love my new routines and the friends I’ve made along the way. I particularly love ripping things out of the garden and developing a vision of what it will look like in the future.

I hardly go out because I love staying in. I don’t have to compromise on what I watch on TV, what I eat, what time I get up and go to bed. I get to do what feels right for me, to follow my heart in everything I do, to breathe, to expand and to grow.

I feel I’ve finally found my wings and I’m just learning to fly. It’s taken me until I’m nearly 60 but I’m doing it and I’m loving it. I absolutely love being on my own.

It wasn’t easy. There were overwhelming amounts of fear, angst, turmoil, and, at times, out and out panic. There were many tears and I leaned heavily on family and friends, who have all been amazing. And not one of them judged me. They’ve all stood by both me and my former husband as we navigate our new lives.

So why am I sharing all this with you?

Because I regularly hear that other women are at a similar point in their relationships where they don’t know whether to stay or go. They don’t know what it's like to break away and live on their own at an age where most are well settled in their relationships. And most women don’t know of anyone else at this age that has done that.

So I wanted to share what I had done, what it was like, and how it’s worked out for me. It still feels like early days. I’m still revelling in my freedom, enjoying every minute of it. I miss an extra pair of hands sometimes, usually when trying to get a woolsack of garden rubbish into my car, but other than that I’m supremely happy.

I want to reinforce here that you need to follow what is right for you. In this instance, for me, leaving was the best option. For many, many women, finding authenticity whilst staying in their partnership is the way forward.

As the Akashic Records keep telling me, and others, on a regular basis…

“Follow your heart dear one, she will not lead you astray”

Kàren