Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum

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Real love

I need to remember this. I have tried to “unlove” him.

But I can’t. He’s carved into my heart. That love exists. Existed. Is real.

Even though he never loved me.

It’s a shitty way to find out. A shitty way to have wasted love. But I really am a genuine person, who loved him entirely.

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Coaxing that girl back

Don’t Lose Hope posted this the other day, and I was immediately hit in the heart.


This is the thing.

This God awful experience.

But one of the almost silver linings is this.

I am rediscovering me.

Not someone’s partner.

Not someone’s mother.

Not someone’s daughter.

An adult woman.

With a heart.

A body that mostly still works. (Ouchy calves and glutes after that big hill hike…)😜

A brain that has been given a series of great workouts these past few years.


Wonderful, interesting, intelligent, funny, naughty new friends.



New directions.

Self driven. With free choice to do whatever I want.

There is enormous loss, grief and yeah, guilt. Guilt that somehow, no matter how hard I tried, he rejected me. I was not enough.

No matter how many times I say it, read it know it, there is guilt at the failure of my most precious human relationship I have ever had.

Despite knowing that the failure is not mine to bear, bear it I do. The grief of that loss is continuous.

But today, this post, is about the growth. Patting myself on the back.

For surviving.

When I wanted to die.

For bravely getting back up. For doing Churchill’s bidding, and keeping going, through this hell.

For taking risks. For still caring deeply. For revelling in new love, both romantic and that of new friends.

I met some more new people of BG’s last night. Thrown in the deep end with them, as he worked. They were delightful, warm, interesting, and we clicked easily. My social anxiety has changed. I’m no longer as defensive. I realise that in our friendship circle, everyone knew I was that woman who was cheated on, for a long time, and with her so-called friend. I always felt so judged. Stupid, for not knowing, for still having Leanne in my homes, etc. Obviously sexless, ugly, fat, boring, because why else would that nice guy cheat on her.

That baggage is at the door now. New people don’t come at me carrying it.

More travel plans. A new business sprouting. A beautiful, peaceful home, that I welcome friends, family, guests to stay at regularly.

I am coaxing that wee girl back out into the light.

The glow up is happening!

And boy, is that wee girl starting to sparkle again! ✨️

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My fabulous, sassy, full of the joys of life MIL, who sadly died in the weeks just before Roger drove out of my life, was an innovative person.

I’ve just secured a very personally moving/bizarre thing. My empty (not in calf) heifers have just been paddock sold to the boutique, gourmet beef processor she was instrumental in setting up and sat on the board of.

It’s a breed specific, quality controlled, branded local processor. Far from the industrial processing model.

It was a networking thing. A previous client of mine, who now owns the nail salon I go to, well, she knew my MIL quite well. Her partner is the owner of the boutique plant that processes this branded, gourmet product.

It feels kinda weird, and my little ring neck dove that hangs around my place was hovering about as the buyer inspected my girls. I’ve always seen this wee bird as a sign that my MIL is looking out for me. It showed up the day I moved in, and is often on or near my deck.

Doing life right. It’s always difficult. I wanted this life WITH Roger.

And you just keep going.

Real heartbreak never really heals. You just carry on. Surviving. Growing. Being the better person.

You Don’t Just Lose Someone Once.

You don’t just lose someone once.
You lose them when you close your eyes at night.
And as you open them each morning.

You lose them throughout the day.
An unused coffee cup.
An empty chair.
A pair of boots no longer there.

You lose them as the sun sets.
And darkness closes in.
You lose them as you wonder why.
Staring at a star lit sky.

You lose them on the big days.
And the regular days too.

You lose them in a song they used to sing.
The scent of their cologne.
A slice of their favorite pie.
You lose them in conversations you will never have.
And all the words unsaid.

You lose them in all the places they’ve been.
And all the places they longed to go.
You lose them in what could have been.
And all the dreams you shared.

You lose them as the seasons change.
The snow blows.
The flowers blossom.
The grass grows.
The leaves fall.

You lose them again and again.
Day after day.
Month after month.
Year after year.

You lose them as you pick up the broken pieces.
And begin your life anew.
You lose them when you realize.
This is your new reality.
They are never coming back.
No matter how much
You miss them or
Need them.
No matter how hard you pray.
They are gone.
And you must go on.

Time marches on, carrying them further and further way.
You lose them as your hair whitens and your body bends with age.
Your memory fades.
And the details begin to blur.
Their face stares back at you from a faded photograph.
Someone you used to know.

You think you might have loved them once.
A long time ago.
Back then.
When you were whole.

You don’t just lose someone once.
You lose them every day.
Over and over again.
For the rest of your life.

He missed out on these wonderful years, wuth the person who loved him, knew him, shared life with him. All for something different when he spoiled what we had by dipping his dick in diseased filth.

Silly boy.

This was our reward, for the toil we put in, building a future together.

I am doing it my way now. It’s good. I’m living with my ethics, my dreams. Very little compromise.

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After an affair. The lasting effects.

Mistrust. Risk Aversion. Jealousy. Triggers. Negative Lens.

All lasting effects of your most trusted and totally beloved cheating on you

I worked through this list, linked. And agree with the writer.

The effects of Roger’s long affair with Leanne were long, deep scars that devastated me. I worked so hard to heal.

This morning, I woke to hear of the too early death of bell hooks. During my healing journey, I ran into so much of this incredible woman’s work, that helped me deal with gender, power, intersectionality. Understand why my power was taken from me.

Writing my Masters thesis was a hugely healing process. I started to find me again. The me that was suppressed, abused, taken advantage of, because I believed in love.

When your world falls apart, ripped apart by the very person you gifted your heart (and power) to, everything must be rebuilt.

I instinctively knew that I needed to be alone. I withdrew. Like a wounded animal, I needed a cave to give myself space. Roger hated my new “anti-social” stance.

I have always been aware that you need to be solitary, to take stock. To strengthen. Surrounding yourself with people, using another “love” interest is white noise.

A distraction.

A means of avoiding looking at yourself.

I enjoy solitude.

And I know how healing it was – and is – for me.

I think it is why distance works for me, with BG.

I am relearning how to truly take care of me.

Last night, in a crowded restaurant, with some wonderful people, great food, beautiful wine, I sat quietly at one point, watching these friends of mine celebrate our privilege (including these fabulous, lifetime friendships) and felt a warmth, a peace, a stillness. Ever so briefly.

This is what I have learned.

To spend alone time. To really know yourself.

In order to appreciate the people I have. The life I am rebuilding. To know my identity is not dependent on a significant other. To finally not feel guilt about the (few) friendships I haven’t pursued, with people who don’t value loyalty.

There are beginning to be moments of peace in that.

This is the longest, hardest work I have ever taken on. The work of dealing with what Roger’s affairs left me with. Those five lasting effects. They are all very real. All very permanent.

I got asked recently how you ever give your heart again. Ever trust again.

You don’t.

Not even close. You always hold some back. Always scan everything for red flags and inconsistencies.

But I accept this, and go forward in this knowledge.


Fighting on

I constantly re-set. My life became a mental struggle the night Leanne texted me about my most beloved’s affair with her. I haven’t felt real peace since.

I have however become more adept at consciously letting the pain out, then re-setting. More determined to face the world and do better, become better.

So, after I hit the wall two days ago, I decided to start again at the beginning. This is day two of this rebuilding. I accept that my life is changed, and I am a survivor. I went back through my cancer journey, and felt immense pride for how I managed all of that, newly on my own. I focused on getting through. My kids. My fabulous friends.

And discovered old messages between myself and Roger. I was actually quite shocked at myself. At the almost denial I was displaying. If I was just “nice” enough, he wouldn’t swap Trinket into my place, right? It was embarrassing reading them. So not who I am, who I ever was before, nor who I am today.

He always made me feel not good enough.


And I know I am more than enough 👌


Like riding a … horse

Went horse riding last night with my baby girl. We do this sometimes, to help her mental health.

Doesn’t do mine any harm either!

We drove over to the west coast, grabbed some DIVINE fresh fish, scallops and chips on the wharf.

Then drove out to the beach location where we had booked to do a sunset ride and ate them sheltered in the car, looking over the cliff, to the raging sea below.

After months of dry weather, we got soaking wet in the rain. Two and a half hours of contentment.

I have a great life. If it wasn’t for the agony of having my heart shunted about …

This is why I still blog. I don’t require validation, nor any particular person to hear me anymore. I just need this fabulous space to let the pressure out. Let the toxins free from my body, my mind, in the form of words floating in the ethernet.

The more I grow, the more I see what happened to me. I had a great discourse with Gone (CreativeRational) yesterday, about change. She embraces change. I always thought I was resistant to change.

But I’ve realised it was never change that I feared. Or resisted.

It was having it foisted on me. I hated being told what was happening AFTER Roger had already decided! He bought a bloody farm without my input! He had an affair, gave me diseases, without my knowledge. He then later secretly shopped for my replacement, online, for around two years, WITHOUT ME KNOWING WTF I WAS FACING!!! I was told he was committed, and so very sorry. He loved me entirely and forever.

He’d never hurt me ever again.

Nope. He was just sorry he was caught. He controlled the narrative. He controlled the exit. I just got shunted aside again. A bit of detritus in his life that was so very easily replaceable once he found the right “part” to slot into the hole where he removed me from his life.

I actually accept and sometimes embrace change! Who knew? I love curating a new life. With what I want. Arranged the way I prefer.

And I realised yesterday, that whilst I am still the same low maintenance chick he used to praise me for, I have shored up the boundaries I always thought I had so very firmly in place.

And the attention thing is quite small. I don’t need all of it. I just need reassurance that I am important to the person I love.

As time passes, I see how the very things I was made proud of about me, that Norm highlighted about my mostly easy going nature, were the things he groomed me for. To not suspect. To not be jealous. To be chill AF. Because those traits are PERFECT CHUMP traits. If they trust you, you can get away with anything!



Just had a really interesting chat with my friend who I’ve mentioned before, who found out her new “boyfriend” of six months (who she met online…is there any other way anymore???) was married.

She ended it. Immediately she found out.

He pursued.

He begged her.

He promised he would leave his wife. She said, nah, not interested, dude. You’ve proved you lie.

And cheat.

It broke her heart as she had invested. Big time. Had handed in her resignation at work. Was planning to move to his city.

All that jazz.

She said to him, “if you had left your wife, because you were SO unhappy, BEFORE you opened internet dating profiles, you would have had me.

It’s too late.

You lied to me. You lied to your wife, who has given you the best years of her life. You lied to me ABOUT your wife. You lied to your wife ABOUT me. You lied to your children. You made me the OW! THAT IS NOT OKAY! I fell in love with you. But “you” were not even real. Just a lie.”

I have watched her heartbreak. She said her own feelings for this man nearly made her cave a few times.

But she stayed strong, knowing she doesn’t want to be the OW to his kids. To be that “scarlet harlot” (her words) to his wife. When she had no idea he was married in the first place!

But most of all, she didn’t want to be that woman. All name calling aside. That woman who actually broke the wife’s heart. She saw the wife as human. As someone who had invested in a life with this arsehole.

I met him once. He seemed nice. Not a lecherous charmer. Just a nice guy who my friend had fallen in love with. No obvious sleaze at all. Quite fun to talk with. An ordinary guy. Ordinary looking. Seemed pretty decent to me.

We talked about healing, how we are trying to move forward with our shattered lives. We are both fighting hard for our sanity, survival and growth.

I asked her if she knew if they were still together. And she has no idea. Is finally stopping the internet stalking. Starting to let go and heal. I feel for OW who are duped into buying a married man’s bullshit story, that they are divorced.

Divorce means ended.

Properly. Fully. Finances severed. The spouse knows it’s over. They live apart, with little contact, etc.

Then at least a year on your own to work your shit out. No matter the circumstances of the divorce. Some adulting time. To grow.

My (recovering) alcoholic brother has been divorced, for the second time, for around two or three years.

He is on the SIXTH serious girlfriend since. He lived with the other five.

Yep. FIVE!!!

The latest, according to my Dad, is just a few weeks in, and he’s so proud of himself for not having moved into her house yet 🙄

WTAF? Really? How needy and codependent can you be? Just can’t function without a woman. It seriously disgusts me.

I will never engage with a man who hasn’t done the work of healing from a broken relationship. I will certainly, absolutely certainly, never get involved with a man who still lives with his wife and kids, no matter his bullshit story about “we’re practically separated, we don’t even sleep together.”

So weird.


The myth of the sisterhood

One of the things that completely undoes me is how women treat each other. I guess my feminist is showing when in my naivety I think I kind of assumed that most decent, kind, loving, strong, independent women would ensure their choices and actions would not tear another woman down. I knew Leanne was none of those things. But hoped as a friend, she would act with some decency. Obviously I overestimated her.

Mostly, I overestimated him.

This time around, I thought he had met a kind and sweet woman. Someone who had had her heart broken. Her dreams shattered by a selfish, lying, cheating husband. And that she would recognise a fellow betrayed spouse and ensure that my wellbeing was protected. Or at least, that she would play no part in his hurting me more deeply than he already had. I thought she would empathise with the agony of discovering your love was lying and cheating. Again. And move to protect herself.

Alas, no. She seems completely hoodwinked by his version. A complete lie, and twisting of the facts. His charm and apparent sincerity regarding his intentions (and I believe he believes he will be faithful to her, even though he hasn’t been) is endearing. He comes across as earnest, funny, kind. He is easy to love. Until you realise that he (and I think this is just his lack of self awareness) is only in this love thing, for how it makes him feel. Yes, he likes making you happy. But not because, as I always thought, he is a sweet and kind man. But because he gets his hit from your reciprocation. Your adoration and desire to please.

After months of him denying any wrongdoing and blame shifting like a boss – you will laugh at this – he finally admitted two nights ago that what he did in having online dating profiles, texting dozens of women, meeting three, all while planning a new business venture with me and agreeing to wait until my Masters was completed to reassess our relationship, to give me the time and space I needed to heal myself before I could decide fully about our love story, was against what we agreed on. Didn’t go QUITE so far as to say out loud that he’d cheated again. But he conceded that I am correct, we HAD totally agreed to 100% honesty, openness, truth, no secrets, no dating other people, and to have a very obvious and truthful conversation if either of us thought we were done. He admitted FINALLY, that he did not do any of that, he kept secrets, all the while continuing to woo me, coax me into staying. Up until now, he has denied, denied, denied. And told several people that it is my fault he cheated. Because I doubted for about two years that whether what we had been through was survivable. I didn’t trust that he had learned not to be the secretive guy who didn’t tell the truth. I blogged about my doubts. My intense heartbreak. I told my (then) best mate this. And she, sadly, repeated it to many in our local town. These people now think I was not still trying to be all in in our love story. I needed to work my arse off and research my way to healing. It was a very difficult period. For both of us. But he lied. He kept pursuing me. I started to glimpse hope in leaving this place of pain, this farm that contributed to the ruination of a truly beautiful and fulfilling, intense and loving, passionate and exciting, relationship. And I kept trying to come back to him fully. I didn’t leave, because I absolutely love that man. Too much. It worked. I healed. I got to the place I was striving for, putting myself through hell to get there.

So, I know this is not Trinket’s fault. She was genuinely online, looking for love. But I really struggle with the agony she must know he is causing me, by rejecting me after everything I endured at his hands, and watching him tearing down all we built together. He engaged in the classic midlife crisis affair with Leanne, and the classic exit affair with Trinket. Deeply immature and narcissistic behaviour, exactly as described here: https://thestagesandlessonsofmidlife.org/the-difference-between-an-exit-affair-and-the-midlife-crisis-affair/

A seemingly loving partner, derailed. I have a whole box of love notes ready for my move. He has always written me these, beautiful words. He is moving his whole life to a region he never considered living in until he met her and realised she would not move to/with him. In fact, he openly jeered at his new home region for decades (he is quite the fan now, though.) All this whilst his mother, who lives nearby, is dying. It is heartbreaking. Truly devastating. To put so much trust in such a man, with his proven record of cheating, lying and abandoning? Despite his love bombing apparent sweetness? I am just stunned. And yet, for some bizarre reason, I still totally LOVE this guy. WTF?

Oh, and get this, kids. I got severely chastised for being too nice by him the other night! “Stop doing that, you’re making me feel like an arsehole.” Um, what??? This was after he berated me for not reminding him it was Valentine’s Day. Yep. You read that right. I was supposed to remind him to buy another woman flowers perhaps? Silly me. He waited six months to sign a Separation Agreement. Finalising it on Valentine’s Day. I had pointedly asked him NOT to leave it until the last minute (for my property deal to go unconditional) as it was the 14th of February. The date did not register.

Welcome to your future, Trinket. Of forgotten birthdays, anniversaries, special dates.

He even asked our daughter a couple of months ago when she turned 21.

She is about to be 25.

FML. He sure is a treasure 😂.

Still no final deal on my new place. His lawyer lost the original paperwork we needed! WTAF?

In other news. I started seeing a shrink again a month ago. To get help in dealing with the grief and loss. She is great. And uses EMDR. She told me after the second session that it was completely up to me whether I felt I needed to come back. I did. And I left last night with her telling me I am doing exceptionally well under a particularly difficult set of circumstances. That my intense grief and still very deep love for him are not as insane as I feel they are. Instead are perfectly normal, and that I am working through this agony in a very admirable manner. We don’t think I need her anymore. But I know she is there if I need further guidance and reassurance.

Nearly there. ‘We’ are nearly there.

Thanks for bearing with me, my lovelies. Watch this space. I am stretching my wings, about to fly. Because that is my only choice.




It is a weird world when the person who has been wronged is villainised. Especially by someone who really should know better after bitter life experience.

My previous post was shared by a reader with K. Hence me privatising my blog again, I don’t want Roger to be be shown it. You know what happened? She indicated that she thinks I am a liar. No worries about the fact that as a former betrayed wife, he started a relationship with her, lying that he was single, no worries that he was involved in a domestic violence episode with me, no worries that he is reputedly talking to other women online, no worries that he has still been sexually active with me. Umm, I am flummoxed? A former betrayed wife, who believes the cheater. I have blocked her on all means she might have of contacting me now. I imagine she has done the same to me. She was not able to receive the message. You can lead a horse to water…

So, of course, the sensible thing is to just keep moving, which I am trying very hard to focus on. I have made my first ever massage appointment, which isn’t for a while – they were very booked up – and decided to go back to counselling. I have made an appointment to talk about loss and grief, and how to learn to manage my pain levels better. This is a very embodied pain. My whole being aches. Bodily aches, very, very sore all over.