Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum


Vulnerability is attractive


But hell, it’s so, SO hard after (multiple) infidelity, right?

I was told by the couples counsellor we saw, that I needed to get to a place where I could be vulnerable again.

To Roger.

Nic, the counsellor could see I couldn’t allow myself to trust him again.

And he also saw why.

And linked us Brene Brown’s easy to connect with work on vulnerability.

But I battled. I wasn’t ready. I knew Rog just didn’t get it. How deeply anguished his choices made me. How he needed to be patient, kind, honest, to be a part of my healing, and stop continuing to hurt me.

Rog was not reassuring me, as he still wasn’t able to be fully open and honest.

We discussed this on our own a lot. I told him I had lived with him with all the filters off. I was who I appeared to be, to him. In public, but we often wear masks, and I know I wear one – a much happier and healed one – I never really did much prior to knowing he was cheating on me.

Rog admitted he never did that with me. There was always something he held back. I just don’t know why he didn’t love me like I loved him.

Well, I kind of do. His anxious attachment style. He can’t allow full vulnerability. Just too scary.

Having BG show me his flaws, after the bravado that goes along with masculine identities and the early part of “dating” (lord, I hate that word) has been refreshing.

It’s far from what I thought I once had. That complete trust, full vulnerability and deep intimacy.

But I appreciate where we are at.

I told him I woke a couple of times last night, and reached for him in my just awake confusion.

I haven’t been that vulnerable before.

It’s scary. To let him know I must miss him when I’m sleeping, and he’s not here.

His reply was quite funny. I told him I must he getting too comfortable with him…

Sadly, this is hard stuff. Starting over. When you thought you had true intimacy, connection, deep trust with the love of your life, the sweetheart you were going to grow old, and even more connected and in love with.

I hate it.

It causes anxiety and much overthinking and panic.

Because I am not Roger. I did not need another partner. I was happy to stay single and independent. The vulnerability required here utterly terrifies me.


PTSD, betrayal and rape trauma

I knew my rape had affected me going forward in life.

But was convinced I had a handle on it.

I have been told that this was in part due to my secure attachment style. I met Rog around five months after the rape. At the time, I had done such a good job of “processing” what happened to me, that it felt like years earlier.

My secure attachment bonding style (makes me sound like a damn limpet, lol) meant that I found my safe person. Roger would never hurt me.

His deep, long term betrayal, that included defiling not only my sense of safety in a person, but also my safe spaces of both of my homes, totally ripped my carefully constructed safe world apart. Add in two STI’s, and eventually a cervical cancer diagnosis, and even my own body was now unsafe!

My thesis cover

As written here, in Psychology Today New Zealand

Betrayal is treachery, deception, and violated trust. It can appear as a broken promise, duplicity, lies, sexual affairs, and even affairs of the heart. The injury is so great that some people seem to never recover.

We are taught that to be truly happy in life, we must learn to trust others. So, sometimes reluctantly, we let down our guard and we trust. When relationships become psychologically intimate, we have put our trust in another. We have made ourselves vulnerable to another person. We believe this person accepts us unconditionally, believes in us, and “has our back.” We cherish such a relationship because we believe our partner is understanding, faithful, and devoted in good times and bad.

In a psychologically intimate relationship, powerful attachments and bonds are formed. Not only does the bond let us know that we are understood, appreciated, and unconditionally accepted, it says we are safe. So powerful is this bond that there is evidence that the presence of a psychologically intimate partner can positively affect blood pressure and stress hormones. Psychologists have long known that the deepest cravings of human nature are the desires to be appreciated and to be safe.

I had all of my safe places taken from me.

And my Mum was gone. I don’t – or didn’t – have close, supportive relationships with siblings. My closest family had been Roger’s mother and sister, but the sister turned on him when he sold the farm, and I lost her then. I struggled with the relationship with his mother for a while after his affair with Leanne, as I felt she didn’t want to know me. Thankfully, we totally repaired it, as I loved that woman! I explained to BG the other day, as we were driving up the coast, that it was my mother-in-law’s birthday, her second since we so sadly lost her to Motor Neuron Disease.

He asked me what she thought of what Roger did.

Yeah. Well, when I told her about Leanne (which I only did because Leanne was threatening to turn up on their doorstep with her mother and tell Roger’s parents that they were destined to be together 😱😱😱 – yep, crazy bitch did that, and I didn’t want them to hear it through the small town grapevine either) she crossed her arms over her bosom, and asked if the children were okay.

I felt rejected then. Like, I dunno, I think I must have subconsciously wanted her to hold me. To tell me she loved me. I needed my Mum, and she been dead a decade. I was very hurt by her reaction.

Years later, I had repaired my relationship and feelings about her. She just didn’t know how to cope with her favourite child turning out to be a cheater, and hurting me so badly. We talked about it when she got sick. She was so lovely, apologised that I felt hurt and unsupported at that crucial time (it was two weeks after Dday) and told me she was so glad I was the mother of her grandchildren, that I brought love, intelligence (her words, typically hilarious, were, “well thank God for you, because you gave them a brain”) and class to their make up. I thought that was extremely generous.

So, to answer BG’s question, what did my MIL think of what Roger did? Well, she told me, shaking her head, in stilted speech (MND was quite advanced, and she was losing the use of her voice at this stage) that she didn’t know what he was doing, that she was very worried for him, throwing away the best, most loving woman for some skanky widow. He was selling us up, and moving away. From her. From his friends from his children. For a woman he barely knew, but was obviously so very madly in love with, he was leaving us all.

The second to last day of her life, I visited her before the races, and sat with her for nearly two hours. We held hands, she stroked my forearms, and we kissed each other’s cheeks. She ran her hands over my sequined dress, pointed at my jaunty hat, and finger spelled that she thought I looked very beautiful, but quite scarily thin. That Rog was making an enormous mistake. My eyes filled with tears (damn! Makeup!) And said, I’ve tried my very, very best to convince him not to leave, to be careful what he threw away. He just never loved me enough to believe in me. She told me she loved me.

The following evening, she passed, and I felt it happen. I knew she had gone.

And Roger was with Trinket.

Trinket never came to her funeral. Roger’s other sister beckoned me over at the church, insisting I sit with her and her family.

That, BG, is what Roger’s mother thought of her son at the end.

Not that Rog would give a damn.

And, on cue, as discussed in previous posts, Garbage’s Stupid Girl belted out on the radio on my way to work.

A way to scream sing out my pain.

And compose myself for work, after a weird night where my nightmares of rape and betrayal included BG for the first time. Ugh. I wonder if that is why I wondered where he was in my bed three times as I woke! WTF???


Current mood…

Am finalising my trip to the States and Canada this year.

So excited.

I have never really longed to go to either place hugely, cultures too similar to my own, I guess. (See How to Dad, a kiwi icon, below…)

But I am so excited now. Mostly to see three blogging friends.

I have friends in great places!

Crazy Kat, who visited Roger and myself less than three years ago, is in Portland, another friend is in Knoxville, and yet another, creativerational, Toronto!

Connect those dots! Lol. Not easy in a few weeks. But I’m up for the challenge! Add in San Francisco and New Orleans…

Yass Kweeen! Look out North America, coming at ya!

Oh oh oh
Oh I don’t know, I don’t know, oh, where to begin
We are North Americans
And for those of you who still think we’re from England
We’re not, no
We build our planes and our trains till we think we might die
Far from North America
Where the buildings are old and you might have lots of mimes
Aha, oh, oh
I hate the feelin’ when you’re looking at me that way
‘Cause we’re North Americans
But if we act all shy, it’ll make it okay
Makes it go away
Oh I don’t know, I don’t know, oh, where to begin
When we’re North American
But in the end we make the same mistakes all over again
Come on North Americans
We are North American scum
We’re from North America
And all the kids all the kids that want to make the scene
Here in North America
When our young kids get to read it in your magazines
We don’t have those
So where’s the love where’s the love where’s the
Love where’s the love where’s the love tonight?
But there’s no love man there’s no love and the kids are uptight
So throw a party till the cops come in and bust it up
Let’s go North Americans
Oh you were planning it I didn’t mean to interrupt
I did it once and my parents got pretty upset
Freaked out in North America
But then I said the more I do it the better it gets
Let’s rock North America
We are North American scum
We’re from North America
We are North American scum
We are North American
New York’s the greatest if you get someone to pay the rent
Wahoo North America
And it’s the furthest you can live from the government un huh huh
Some proud American Christians might disagree
Here in North America
But New York’s the only place we’re keepin’ them off the street
Boo boo now we can’t have parties like in Spain where they go all night
Shut down in North America
Or like Berlin where they go another night, alright, un huh un huh
You see I love this place that I have grown to know
Alright, North America
And yeah, I know you wouldn’t touch us with a ten-foot pole
‘Cause we’re North Americans
We are North American scum
We are North Americans
We are North American scum
We love North America
Take me back to the states man
North American scum
Where we can be all we want if we really
North American
Where the DJ gigs are as fun
Here in North American scum
Don’t blame the Canadians
Let go North America

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Big trigger

Just watching Federer.

Because BG messaged, saying he was watching him trying to come back against Sandgren.

And a huge shiver went through me. An enormously painful ache.

Leanne tried desperately to get Roger to join her at the Australian Open during the second year of their affair. He wanted to go, but couldn’t work out how he would explain it to me.


Hurting hard. 💔


Trusting that he sucks

To all who have lived what I have lived, with a man you thought was the greatest, most lovely man, who treasured and adored you for decades, then discovered he was a cheater, trust that he sucks.

No matter how adorable he seemed, how madly in love you were. How sorry he says he is.

Anyone who can push the person who loves them to battle mightily with suicidal ideation, sucks.

Anyone who chooses to cheat, then lie and cheat some more, rather than coming clean, being honest? They suck.

BG helped me see this even more clearly this weekend. His face when he realised that Roger cheated with my ‘friend’ in my homes, while I blithely entertained and cooked for her?

Anyone who then lied and cheated again, having at least three internet dating profiles, whilst sleeping with me?

They suck.

I have never used the word narcissist with BG, or about Rog. We generally talk very little about the past, rather focus on the fun and support for each other we are experiencing now. I have told him about Leanne. Then about Trinket. He asked. No others have been discussed.

He is the one who called him a narcissist. He calls his own cheating father a narcissist. He sees him for who he is, and his lack of remorse, and ability to use and abuse, and walk away all loved up and happy, leaving a tortured woman behind, wondering what the hell she did wrong.

It was interesting talking to him.

His father started to do things like say to his mother, “oh, just have to go away for a few days to help this friend sort her Trust out.” He wonders if his mother questioned that. Says surely she did? Did she look the other way? She says not. That she didn’t know.

I believe that.

I replied that mine was fishing trips. He had to go away overnight to meet his friend, to “go fishing.” In my case I never queried it. Mostly Roger fucked Leanne while I was at work. Daytime, easy to hide. Only stayed overnight with her three times, as far as I was able to ascertain.

As I said to BG, when your beloved tells you something, like, “just off for a fish, dear,” you take it at face value. You kind of have to believe them. H, Roger’s best mate, whose first wife cheated on him, said the same to me. You have to trust what they tell you, because that is what a relationship is, what it means. I never thought Rog was cheating. I believed his fishing story. There was no marriage policing, no checking up on him.

Even later, with the internet dating, when I asked, “are you doing something wrong?”

Oh no, no way, Snooks, it’s only you. It’s always been you I want.


BG nodded, and said, “oh hell yeah. I get that. Chrissy did the same. Told me plausible stories about where she was, and even when I started to feel something was up, I had to believe she was doing what she told me she was doing. When all that time she was fucking around on me. Makes you feel like the world’s biggest fool.”

Oh. Hell. Yeah.

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Road trippin’

What a weekend!

So, as I said earlier, I raced my dogs to the boarding kennels and got over to BG’s on Friday night. After a few adult beverages, BG offered his festival ticket to Colleen, as his mates had given one of their tickets to a friend, and BG thought, seeing as Colleen and I were hitting it off so well, she could come along with the girls, and he’d stay and hang with the boys as they all looked after three dogs and four kids under 12.

And then, Colleen decided to invite her new man (of less than a month) and her 14 year old son.

And found extra tickets on an online auction site.

BG was furious with himself. He apologised a million times to me, wishing he’d kept his big mouth shut! He expressed his disappointment he wouldn’t be going to the music festival with me, about thirty times, he’d bought these tickets, for us, last August, lol.

Colleen’s Doug had to drive a few hours, and he came and stayed Saturday night with Colleen in her camper, parked on BG’s lawn.

It had turned into a three ring circus. His two bedroom, one bathroom house was swamped.

I just kept laughing at his frustration that he had created a bit of an embarrassing drama. He didn’t want Colleen to infiltrate this friend group, as he had briefly dated her over a decade ago, and never introduced her to Ingrid and Andrew.

Quite separate to this, and before the drama, I had said to him on Friday night that I was not really sure where I stood with him. He looked at me, and said, “I’m happy, are you happy?” And then said we would have a proper talk when we drove up to Auckland for the race meeting.

We got going early, and had our first really decent chat about feelings, and I told him I just wasn’t sure if what I was feeling was mutual. I didn’t say it, but the fact he has never said ILY in the whole time we have been seeing each other does feel odd to me. I came from a man who told me that every day, wrote it in cards, notes, texts…

And nada.

BG has never looked close to that.

He just asked me what I was worried about, why did I think he isn’t as invested as I appear to be? And he said that he totally is. So much that it has scared him a bit. I know that. He’s been very hurt.

He said that the very best thing in his life, is me, and he can’t quite believe it’s happening sometimes, that he keeps waiting for something to go wrong. That he’s the happiest in his personal life he’s ever been, and is surprised I don’t know what I mean to him. Am I happy?

I just told him that I’m very happy, but just because we get on so well, and like each other a whole lot, that doesn’t necessarily mean there is chemistry/passion there from him. I feel some chemistry on my side, but if he doesn’t, then that is no one’s fault. I’m not offended if he likes me, but just doesn’t feel it.

He grabbed my hand harder as he drove (he usually drives holding my hand) and said he can’t believe how lucky he is, meeting me, and that I still want to be with him, after seeing all his overthinking and anxiety. And that he feels that we have SO, SO much in common.

Then, he started to say something, then obviously thought better of it.

I gave him a few minutes to process.

Then, took a deep breath and asked him, “were you about to discuss how this works, as in, ‘the future,’ seeing as we live so far apart?”

He shrugged, and said, “not quite that. Kind of. But what are you thinking?”

I told him I could see that we both have stuff to do where we are right now, and I can handle the distance, if he can.

And he nodded, agreeing. He then talked about where he is at, professionally, and what happens if he feels he can’t deliver. He talked about the offer I made, when he was thinking of quitting, to give him somewhere to stay.

He asked if I thought I could live with him. And my answer was, I wouldn’t have offered that if I didn’t think so.

And he said that is what worries him. That he knows that no matter what happens to him career wise, he will manage. He will find a place to live and a way to make a living. But that isn’t conducive to a relationship and partner, and he feels he would let me down in that case.

I just said, hey, we are living in a world where no one expects anyone to look after them. I’m independent and capable. I don’t need rescuing or to be financially propped up. And I have every confidence in his ability to take care of himself, as he has done for 54 years, it doesn’t concern me in the slightest.

I just said, I’m more than happy to continue on this way, if he is okay with that.

He looked at me, and said, “if you are happy, and not stressed about trust – as you would be perfectly entitled to be after your experience with a lying cheater – then that’s good. I trust you implicitly.”

We had a glorious evening at the races. Going to visit his Mum beforehand, I felt somewhat self conscious at my cleavage (Roger would have disapproved of the boobage on display, but BG was very encouraging when I mentioned I was a bit concerned. “You’ve got fantastic boobs, why shouldn’t you show them off? And you look extremely beautiful and incredibly elegant in that suit. Don’t worry.”

I introduced him to several friends, the most beautiful moment was when one of my oldest and dearest friends (a previously mutual friend of Leanne’s too) who lives in the South Island squeezed me hard, loads of tears in her eyes, and said, “oh Paula! He’s absolutely lovely, I’m so, so very happy for you. You deserve every happiness after what those bastards put you through!”

Shit! Breathe!

What a sweetheart she is.

And her friends, old school chums of Roger’s also came up to me, grinning, Lou-Ann gushing and hugging me, her husband, Nyall grinning at me as well, “oh Paula, I saw your Instagram post on the beach with him the other day, and showed Nyall, we’re so bloody happy for you, and he’s a great looking guy, too! Go you! Hope you have every happiness, you look fantastic!”

We did have a weird moment, where we think we both ate something dodgy. I kept quiet, as he slipped away to the bathroom, and when he returned, I was drenched in sweat, head between my knees, had tunnel vision, numb lips and fingers, nearly passed out in the member’s stand. An elderly lady had tended to me, got me water and wet cloths, and she and security had called the ambulance staff!

BG was really upset I was unwell, and he didn’t realise, and left me on my own.

“Oh baby, you okay? Shit, I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He was dealing with his own crisis!

Anyway, an hour later, I had mostly recovered, my colour was slowly returning, and we carried on.

I caught up with the old crew that Rog and I always attended this party meeting with, had a quick dance with the girls, hugged my son as we saw him when we were leaving – a hilarious moment where 5’11” BG went in for a warm handshake, and my 6’3″ son, G, charged at him and hugged him so hard, he literally nearly knocked him over, lol!

And, back to the beach I drove.

The next day, road trippin’ up the coast, to the festival venue, BG and I got chatting. He asked me about my friend, L, whose husband has been caught cheating again. I talked about her fear. And the conversation got back to Roger. I said how embarrassed I am that I stayed, and he did it again.

BG said, “you stayed because you love, and you were committed to him, even after he hurt you so badly. Nothing to be embarrassed about. He should be the one who is embarrassed! Look what he lost! But that’s a narcissist for you. Just like my old man. They don’t think they’ve done anything wrong, and they’re just arseholes. To good women. Who gave and gave and gave. And are you telling me that after all that, all that bullshit of over a year with your friend he left for an entirely different woman???

Jesus. What an utter arsehole.”

And then he apologised to me for the hundredth time about Colleen. He said he was very concerned for me, given my history with an ex girlfriend – pretending to be my friend, hanging out with me while she fucked my partner – being the other woman that he was a total dick for inviting Colleen to the festival. That he was really worried for me, that it must be very triggering, and he felt incredibly stupid and insensitive for that. He really beat himself up about it.

The picnic box that Ingrid pre-ordered as our festival sustenance.

I actually wasn’t worried. Leanne was always infatuated with Rog. Never had another relationship after him. Colleen has had a 6 year one, and just started with a lovely guy. She doesn’t want BG.

But man, I was grateful. He gets it. He understands how I feel. And he admitted to me that it worried him, as he did have three women on the go once, at 20, for a short period. And it was dumb, and he hated it, and has always felt like an arsehole about it. None were truly girlfriends (more just fun fuck buddies) but he says it was not all that honest, and it haunts him. Trying to keep it all separate just about did his head in. And he’s never cheated since. Worried him that he was like his father.

We had a super intense time. He was very, very into loads of public affection. I never used to like that, but around his dearest friends, and to be honest, his ex, it felt reassuring. When Rog was fucking Leanne, he was reluctant for her to see him touch me. There was no hand holding, cuddling, etc. Once, when she was staying with us, he tried to refuse sex with me (only time he EVER tried to refuse sex.)

BG was all over me – in a lovely way – all weekend, being quite protective of me, holding me and snuggling, playing with my hair, kissing my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder, touching my face gently, etc.

And loads of initiating sex. He often waits for my cues first, and that was not the case this weekend. He wanted me now, now and NOW.

I think we have just moved to the next level. My confusion and slight lack of full vulnerability have moved on, and he wants me, and his friends, to know he thinks I’m pretty damn precious to him, more than ever.

I don’t think he has an ILY in him.

And I’m pretty okay with that. It might just be who he is. He definitely showed his vulnerability and soft, scared underbelly. I told him that was completely understandable as he’d been knocked around. You don’t just put yourself back up there to be knocked about again.

As Colleen and Doug drove off today, I said, “Doug seems like a really nice guy.” BG’s default insecurity surprised me, after such a close weekend…”see, just what I keep telling you…there are nice guys out there, you’ve settled with me, and could do so much better.” I looked at him and said, “Doug is nice. But seems a bit boring. I don’t do boring. You can’t shake me off that easily, Buster! Why? Do you want to be unburdened of me?”

He laughed, replying with a twinkly wink, “just saying, aim higher!”

We’re both cautious, but unfolding into something extra special.

Roger never showed me full vulnerability. He always had to look like he was in control. He might tell me he was hurt too, but really?

By whom?

Only by himself. And I always felt it was a ‘poor me’ ploy. To get me to feel sorry for poor old Rog, who was so heartbroken he cheated on me…


They might not come back

So much going on. Will post properly soon. But after a concert with ‘the girls’ yesterday, I ended up staying longer than the rest of the crew, bar one, whose youngest is a 2 year old, and was her first day off from her kids to do adult stuff in a long while, and she was not going home with the rest.

‘The boys’ stayed home, here, with kids and dogs. It’s a pretty terrible view from here. A real hardship.

So I stayed with this friend at the concert and accompanied her to a friend’s afterwards.

BG was feeling terrible that he sold his ticket to his ex, and wasn’t coming himself. I was fine with it, these women are beautiful.

When the rest of the team arrived home, there was talk of Dee and myself “not coming back.”

Ingrid told me BG’s face fell, and he said, “no way, Paula will get them home. She won’t stay out, will she?”

I had a dead phone. And he sent me five messages, lol.

He cracks me up!

And yes, I got Dee and myself home. Making sure it was after her young son was safely in bed.

Ingrid and Andrew fed us, and then she beckoned me to come with me into her bedroom, hugging me tightly and telling me to take my dress off.

Hilarious, stripped down to my underwear, in BG’s best mate’s bedroom, she started putting dresses she no longer fits on me, complimenting my body, and telling me she feels we are soul mates, that she loves me already (yes, there was wine involved, lol) so, so similar, and she is just unbelievably thrilled that her “favourite person in the world” has found me.

How delicious is she? I’ve met a really, genuine, fantastic friend who loves and accepts me as an integral part of the inner circle of BG’s most important people.

I told her I feel so grateful for their love and acceptance.

She said, “BG hasn’t told us much, but I know you’ve had a terrible time. And I know you did a runner, coming back when you had your shit more together. I appreciate the self awareness and care for others feelings that made you wait. He’s NEVER had a girlfriend I have connected with, who was anywhere near as intelligent or loving as you. I’m just unbelievably thrilled for you both.”

Naw. How lucky am I?

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A kindred spirit?

So, not to go all Anne of Green Gables here, but what a breath of fresh air.

Colleen, a much, much longer time ago, was with BG. Over ten years ago. All of BG’s exes are still friends with him, except the last one. The one who cheated and lied and broke his heart. But Colleen is one of his very good friends.

I dropped my doggos at their country retreat, at a gorgeous rural locale on the way to the beach (first time I have ever used boarding kennels in my life, despite being a lifelong dog owner!)

And drove over and when I arrived BG messaged me to say, “pup in the house, we are at the club.”

Pup being Chico, Colleen’s 11 month old Cavalier King Charles spaniel. We being Colleen, her 14 year old son, and BG.

I was in my work clothes, no makeup, hair astray. And Colleen was fully made up, hair perfect, nursing her second Pinot Gris.

We hugged and it started.

The chatter. She’s a gorgeous 48 year old single mum to Tyce.

Tyce was grinning from ear to ear. BG had employed him as a dishwasher for the night. He broke his surfboard at surf camp, and is now saving up to buy a new one, Colleen says she will match his earnings to help him out.

And after a quick drink, the three of us headed back to BG’s. Colleen moaning about getting old.

At 48.

So I said, hey, I’ve got a few years on you, 48 is great, and you look great, fit and healthy, etc.

“No way! How old are you then? I thought you were much younger than me!” And when I said the number, she looked genuinely shocked.

See why I like her? Lol.

On the way out, I bumped into a couple I know from my hometown, parents of one of my eldest daughter’s best friends. Lyn was a bit lost placing me for a minute. BG, and where we were, obviously throwing her brain into confusion.

Once home, Colleen cooked salmon and green beans, and BG assembled a salad.

And the whole time, we nattered away, giving BG shit.

He threw his hands out and complained he was being picked on. I said, “get over it, two sisters!” He just smiled, shrugged and said, “story of my life.”

I said, “you’re a brave man, two women staying, to give you a hard time.”

He laughed and snuggled into me.

Colleen smiled and said, “well, you two are just gorgeous together. Best woman, by far, he’s ever been with.

Mind you, I wasn’t a fan of the last one, snooty, crazy bitch didn’t want me around, not good enough for her! She was a bit…lala.”

Whoah. Okay. That was not a surprise actually. Other friends have also said they kind of lost BG for a bit when he was with her.

Honestly, she’s so lovely. There is no lingering from either side.

With Leanne, I always knew she longed for Rog. I just trusted him when he said it was not mutual, that he had zero good feelings for her.


BG has only just seen I have the boat on the back. He asked me to explain myself. I gave him the side eye and winked. Colleen laughed loudly and said, “good luck with that, BG. Don’t think Paula is the explaining kind of girl!”

He grinned widely and shook his head, “what are you like?”

And off to the markets we four go…

…and I’m back. BG has had a freak out. After a few drinks last night, he invited Colleen to go to a concert with us tomorrow. She has remembered today, and he feels absolutely terrible. Because of my past. He thinks I will be upset because Leanne was an ex.

I’m not.

As I explained, Leanne obviously still had feelings for Rog. She was always batting her eyelids at him. I can’t see that with BG and Colleen.

But BG doesn’t want his ex to get involved with ‘our’ circle of friends. She never knew these guys. Only met them once.

I get his point.

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What even is love?



Trying to remember that every day.

That being TOLD I was loved, when he was shagging other women was such a total mind fuck.

I bought my wee watercraft today. Pretty damn excited.

And taking it to BG’s tomorrow.

He is gonna laugh. I only mentioned to him last week I was thinking about it.

I’m a doer.

I say I’ll do something, and bam! It usually gets done. Research done, contact with a seller made. Sale went through today.


I am trying to watch actions and not be bamboozled by words.

And this came up, to remind me of how far I’ve come. How hard I work, every day, to be here. To grow. To improve myself.

Serendipitously, posted by BG’s friend who is having us this weekend.

I love her already ❤

I was just looking for my dogs’ vaccination certificates, which I saw somewhere last week, as trying to book them into boarding kennels for the first time ever.

And just quietly, found a stack of love notes from Roger.

ALL the words.

And just had a massive cry, as my daughter can be bloody self centred. Grumpy AF at me as I looked for certificates in her room.

She has no idea how hurt, how fragile I still am. Because I LOOK like I’m doing fine. It is a carefully curated facade.

As I still fight the suicidal urges at least once a month. Many nights are spent awake, talking myself down.

And I realised I shed tears on the second date with Rog.


I never used to be a cryer.

But, we were on his farm, and he got me to open a gate that was shorting out so badly that the shock I got threw me backwards.

And the tears came. I was utterly mortified.

I have never cried in front of BG. And I can’t imagine ever being that vulnerable around him.

Bring on the long weekend 👙🍾🥂🍹🐎


I’ve gotta feeling

Yesterday, I had this weird vibe all day. That BG was gonna drive over.

He is so busy at work right now, it was highly unlikely. And he has never surprised me by just turning up.

At 6.30pm, in he drove. I was doing farm chores, sorting my stock out, as I haven’t made hay, and should have. Place looks very scruffy. It has got so very dry here!

I had just come in to put a pork belly in the oven and find what homegrown veggies I had. It’s been a long time between grocery shops!

When in he walked.

I wasn’t even surprised.

Weird, eh?

But, I had these kinds of feelings about Rog. I have told him that. I felt his presence sometimes. Or a feeling about where he was, that he shouldn’t have been.

I FELT it in my body when he fucked Leanne two years after DDay.

It’s such a weird feeling, when he was somewhere he shouldn’t have been (Leanne, etc) and when he was up for skin cancer treatment in a city I was in after he left me, I FELT him. So, so strongly.

So, when BG asked if it was a nice surprise, of course I said yes, because the nice part was true! 🤣😜

He was amazed I cooked such a good dinner just for me. The reality is, it needed cooking, and was kind of just luck.

Or, did I know something?

Truth is, the feeling he might show up was very, very strong. And hey, pork belly, okay? Lol.

And hey, nothing like a little mid week frolic, right? 😱🤣😜

(No need to ask, lol.)

I have booked my leave for our South Island trip. Dates confirmed. He said this morning that he wants to meet my baby brother and his family.



That is sorted. Bed at their place reserved. Flights booked, and car hired this morning.

As he was leaving, he asked if I’d rather come to (Roger’s city) with him the week before. He has a conference there. It’s beautiful. More wine country.

I looked at him, and said, “um no.” He lifted an eyebrow, inquisitively.

“Too triggered by that place still. Don’t want to run into them.

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

Which is also my reason for buying tickets to a completely different hospitality area at the races this weekend than ‘our’ usual. I don’t want to see him there with Trinket, all cosy and loved up 🤮🤮🤮 it just breaks my damn heart.

So, so much. 💔💔💔

So, the plan is, head to BG’s Friday night. I wasn’t going to go until Saturday afternoon, but he asked me to please come as his ex fuck buddy and current friend, Colleen, is coming to stay as her son is at a surf competition. He doesn’t want her to be there without me, I guess. I like her, and weirdly, I trust him. But he feels it is inappropriate for them to be there without me. Which is kinda cute.

And appropriate boundaries. I never had them with Roger.

Then I’m off to the races on Saturday evening. Not sure if he’ll come, see above about busy.

The next day we have a summer concert at a town up the coast, and will stay at his friends’ gorgeous house, overlooking a stunning beach and bay.

My friend, J, just taunted me by sending me a video of her catching a lovely yellow fin tuna off their boat. God, I love fishing. Sashimi forever! Unless they tag and release, which is most likely.

Summer fun…

It’s a public holiday Monday, so I better get my dogs organised if I’m away that long. Can’t take them this weekend.

Life is tough, huh?

As I say, I carry on, ensure I live well.

But the heartbreak NEVER leaves. It really doesn’t. It is the deepest grief I have ever experienced.

J knows it, too.

We talk about hers.

Hers is ‘allowed.’ The loss of a 13 year old son.

Mine is unseen. Unspoken. Forbidden.

That taboo is hard to bear.