Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum


HPV be gone!

I recently had one of my six monthly smears.

And, bizarrely, the results came back with ZERO HPV!!! I was aware that it can disappear, but never dreamed it would, for me, after it caused cervical cancer.

There are cool things about this other than that the awful strain I contracted from Leanne is gone!

It also means BG has not transmitted anything to me. He did tell me he’d been tested just before we got together, but you know, men lie! And who says he didn’t sleep with someone between me and that test???

I was once told that “everyone our age has it,” by a friend. Minimising/dismissing my horror and disgust at being unknowingly infected by the only man I’d ever had sex with. My supposed exclusive partner. Who supposedly would protect me from harm.

Well guess what? A man who had a lot of sex, with a lot of different women, does not have it! He has been careful about safe sex. No doubt the paternity scare in his 20s helped underline that message for him.

Not Roger. He rides them all bareback!

The reason for this discussion here is that my daughter asked about my health this weekend. I told her my good news.

She then discussed with me about new research suggesting that the HPV vaccine she, her sister, and their brother had, has now been made a little redundant, with new strains seeming to not be covered by it. She asked me if I thought she’d need to have another three shots. Because those hurt!

I laughed, but then pulled myself short.

You see, she’s been with her partner nearly five years.

They’re committed.

So why would she be thinking about needing cover for new strains? And she looked at me, tilted her head to one side, and nodded as she saw me get what she was thinking as I stopped laughing.

I was in a thirty year committed relationship. And guess what? I got HPV. Unvaccinated, I never thought I’d need it!

How terribly sad. My kid saw her father make me very, very sick. And takes nothing for granted. Being partnered does not protect you. Keeping currently vaccinated will be the safest thing, even if they have assumed fidelity.

Sad. But I’m proud. Proud of her for watching and learning.

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The small stuff

I’m constantly surprised at how moved I am, in my damn 50s, by the smallest things.

I had a very long relationship, with a man who told me every day, with apparent sincerity, that he loved me very much. He was very, very tactile. Touch being high on both our love language lists.

With BG, I think we have both been surprised at how much we both love to touch, and be touched.

BG told me very early on how nice it was that I loved to touch his skin, his body. I was quite flattered, as he’s mid 50s, and has mostly been single throughout his life. I think I thought he would be more of an island.


Less sensitive.

He’s actually incredibly sensitive. Emotional. Sweet AF.

So, he doesn’t gush, like Roger did. He’s more restrained with his language. I worried I was going to be hurt because I’m emotional, loving.


What if I fell in love and he didn’t? Or was a player? Why had he never been in a long term relationship? What was I missing?

But here we are…

And I’ve been away this weekend.

He’s sent caring messages, using words I don’t hear him use that often.

For example, he’s a “lucky man.” And I admit, after being with my absolute love, for 30 years, ILY was something that I said often.

And meant.

But because BG doesn’t very often.

So I don’t as often as I want to. Holding back. Because who needs to be the needy chick? What if he doesn’t say it because he doesn’t often feel it? I can only remember him “saying it first,” or spontaneously, twice.

But he’s texted it twice this weekend, while I am far away.

And it feels real. Not like he’s trying to keep me trapped by his “love.” Rog was such a sad sausage, so needing me. So desperate I was going to leave him, because he cheated.

And so, he kept trying to replace me. I know he was just trying to preempt me leaving him. And that is sad, desperate and needy.

The problem is, it was never me he needed. It was just any sweet woman who would give him the love, sex and attention he craved.

I hate what he did to me. But I still have huge empathy for the fucked up, needy little boy that made him who he is today.

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Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Having a weekend apart is pretty sweet. BG is sending cute, loving, appreciative messages.

I’ve said it before. He doesn’t love bomb like Roger did. There are no grand declarations. So when he says something sweet, it feels sincere. Roger just said stuff so when he got home, he was sure to get some red hot lovin’!

With BG, it’s just simple things. Like when we were messaging earlier, after I went to a Food Show. And had bought a few gourmet items. I said I was taking them to my daughter and son-in-law’s.

His response was unexpected. “You’re just so lovely. I’m a lucky man.”

I mean, what? Because I bought my daughter some gourmet goodies to try? That makes him lucky? Lol.

I know what he meant. He says my giving nature is refreshing. That he’s been around far too many takers. Out for what they can get, rare to find someone who loves to contribute.

And it always reminds me to keep protecting myself.


I just think, “oh, shit! I’m doing it again! Giving ‘too much.’ Be careful! Rein it back, Paula.”

I’m pretty sure that was not his intent.

But that is where I am today, post multiple infidelities.



Trauma Permanently Changes Us


I just love Don’t Lose Hope’s insightful posts.

Empathetic, informed, educational. She totally gets betrayal trauma.

It’s permanent. I was gaslit, bullied into getting over it. Horrific really. Especially since he was still in touch with his affair partner, Leanne. He refused point blank to block her, or change his phone number. He fucked her again two years after “it was over.”

I was not unforgiving, or bitter. I was justifiably reacting in a sane way to trauma and emotional abuse.

And then, after eight years, he did it again. After promising no more secrets and lies, he cheated again. This time online. This time leaving me after lying to me, promising and declaring his undying love and fidelity to me, all whilst actively trying to find my replacement for two whole years!

I will share what I wrote to DLH in response to her insightful post. Please excuse the typos….

Trauma, whilst we can work with it, learn more about how it affects us, and gather a toolbox to help us when in a traumatic episode, is not “curable.”

It never goes away.

And I recall ever so clearly realising at some point, probably two or three years after “my friend,” Leanne told me about the affair she had with my most beloved, treasured, trusted darling father of my children, my partner in and for life, that we are never healed from, instead are forever healing from infidelity.

And that goes whether we stay with the cheater, or separate. My relationships with people are severely affected. My natural instinct to trust is gone. I now have a much more cautious approach to everyone. My joie de vivre is gone. I now have to actively seek joyful moments, grasp them and mindfully repeat to my brain, “this is one of them! A joyful moment. Okay? Write that down!”

And yet, people keep cheating on really good people, and walking away without a care in the world. To new, shiny lives, castung aside the broken hearts, the damage, the people they break.

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You know when you have those really super intense dreams? The kind where it takes you some time after you wake, to realise they weren’t real life, but stupid dreams?

I got a lot of these after Leanne told me she’d been having an affair with Roger. They were quite horrific, graphic rape dreams. To the stage where I would recoil in terror if Roger tried to touch me. It really upset me that I reacted that way. And he definitely got all sad sausage when it happened. It was like an electric shock if he touched my skin.

Anyway. Last night’s dreams were about some communication I had with my eldest daughter. Where she was sharing that she had finally sat down with Trinket, whom I believe she politely plays nice with to her face, but rolls her eyes, calling her a gullible idiot, in real life.

In my dream, she gave her a piece of her mind. Telling her the truth about what she participated in. That Roger (the kids always call him by his name to me. Never “Dad”) was cheating on me with her. That Mum never had a clue he was internet dating. Mum was working her butt off to stay with him adter he lied, cheated and gaslit the hell out of her. And that Trinket knew all of this, but played innocent, with fake, wide-eyed ignorance.

And Trinket feigned shock. S called her on it. “You fkn knew, you stupid cow! You knew my mother didn’t know about you! And you knew about her. You can’t pretend anymore that you didn’t cheat with my serial cheating father. Don’t be so disingenuous! You’re a common ho!”

So strange. But obviously my brain is … my brain! 🤯😳🤪.

And then, I read Jen Hatmaker’s latest IG post.

I’m not a huge fan, but if you are familiar with her, you’ll realise she is a positive little Energizer bunny.

Her marriage disintegrated about a year ago. I think he cheated. Long term marriage. Seceral kids. Etc. Pretty sure he cheated. But she has never said a lot publicly.

Then this…


Betrayal trauma, PTSD. They are incredibly real.

And they last.

A long time.

I think forever.

I thought back to the complete shock. I was in fullblown shock when Leanne told me. I had zero idea. I didn’t snoop. I wasn’t jealous. I had very few conscious suspicions. It pulled the rug out from under me! My whole belief system crumbled. That I would KNOW if he was cheating on me. That whole denial thing.

Not this man! Not MY Normie!

To this day, the lack of self belief, that I was so, so easy fooled…that affects my everyday life. It has undermined any self confidence I might have once had. It makes me doubt other people and their intentions. Their trusthworthiness…

And I also read a comment from a betrayed who is being told her sadness and pain aren’t real, or valid. That wonderful phrase, one those of us grieving just love! Get over it 🙄

The thing that so very, very few understand, is that this is deep, deep grief. Grief doubled down by trauma. The intense pain and shock are things that are debilitating.

Anyway, gonna go have dinner with my lovely daughter and her partner.

Even though her dressing down of Trinket was only a dream! 🤣🤣🤣

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Happy equining

It’s been a pretty good horsing around week.

The least experienced horse trialled Tuesday. The jockey rode her “upside down” and that was a bit disappointing, but hey, safely around.

Wednesday, one that has been a tad disappointing thus far, ran a hugely encouraging fourth.

And yesterday. The one I race with my best high school friends, ran a very honest second, which is actually, on reflection, a good thing. It means she stays in this grade for her next start, and there is a much richer race over her preferred distance in just over a week (might be a bit quick, see how she pulls up) that would be perfect for her.

Almost better than a win!

So, went and had a drink and a snack with my more northern based friend, to pass some time to let rush hour traffic subside a bit before she headed off.

A great opportunity for a proper catch up, to hear how her fledgling NZ-based arm of her London business is doing. So interesting. And she always takes a huge interest in my plans, too. This girl is something very, very special.

So, when I arrived home, after having left work earlier in the day to sleep off a nasty migraine, I found the delivery guys had dropped my new, custom painted bath off.

Yay! Right?

Except, instead of doing what I had asked them – please put it on the covered deck to the right of the house, thank you – they dumped it in the middle of my driveway, basically on the side of the road!


I was flying early in the morning, so panicked a tad. How would I sort this in the dark???

Then it dawned on me…

Trusty Rusty! I could try – very carefully – to move it with my old tractor…

Shit! $6000 worth of custom painted precious cargo!

What if I pierced it with the forks?

What if I dropped it?

But what choice did I have?

I’m so thankful I retained this old boy. He’s got me out of a few binds!

And then, a night of weird dreams. I was wide awake for an hour at 1am, then no more sleep frim 3.45am. So I got ip and packed my bag in front of the fire. Then shifted my two mobs of stock, and fed the sleeping chickens…

Nice and early to the airport. Off I go!

Dream analysis next…


Blood moon

The view of last night’s blood moon eclipse from my place.

Life is pretty wonderous, huh?

Mindfulness. Gratitude. It’s appreciating all you have, all you are surrounded by.

My sweet friend L is packing up her house. 23 years of raising a family, loving her people in that particular house, is being put in boxes. She’s in the eye of the storm right now.

We connect over many things. One is images and quotes we send each other to help calm her.

I just loaned her several thousand to pay her (mine too) divorce lawyer. Her STBX is making her life hell, and won’t sign the financial settlement agreement. She’s been more than fair.

He’s a selfish arse. A co-worker affair discovered about seven or eight years ago.

Another jobswithbenefits affair discovered late 2019.

He left her during our Level 4 lockdown last year. Which was totally against the rules of that lockdown. Their adult kids, two of the three living with them then, saw that and think he’s a prick.

They’re right.



Back home. Phew.

Did not see Roger, nor Trinket.

Thank. Fucking. God.

And the filly ran a very encouraging 4th. In a pretty strong field. Yay! Back on track.

You have no idea what a relief avoiding them is!



I was a strong woman.

Even as a teen.

But I melted into Rog. My love.

And changed.

To support him.

To love him more.




You have NO idea.

I TOTALLY adored him.

And my life has never been the same since.

I went to an amazing movie tonight. Totally “our” thing.

It still aches, stabs.

But. I’m incredibly strong.

I’m okay.