It’s certainly an odd feeling

“I couldn’t take on someone else’s kids, I’m too selfish”

It was something said to me in conversation a few days ago, and something that’s hit the nail on the head of how I’m feeling right now.

I always believed I could do it. Thought I was generous enough in spirit and had enough love to share that I could deal with it. Turns out I’m not, and I don’t.

Playing third violin in the orchestra of a relationship is a lonely place to be. You are behind the child, behind the demands of the mother, and unable to ask for the support of the father, because any such request always get’s the same response.

“How dare you think you are more important than my child?”

So what do you do when one person in a relationship puts a higher value than the other on their partner? When you know that the person you love will never put you first? For me, right now, the answer is,

“I don’t know”

Or maybe it’s just as simple as admitting I really am too selfish, and maybe that’s why I don’t and never will have kids of my own.


I’m sat in my flat, and looking at my walls.

I still can’t believe I am where I am. In a flat that I am buying, and so lining my own pockets instead of those of others. The rapidity of the changes still hasn’t sunk in either. It’s still barely 15 weeks since I looked forlornly at the “For Sale” signs I would see littering my journey to work, and inwardly cry “if only”.

It all changed with a chance conversation, and after eight weeks of highs and lows I had my keys. Now I’ve been living in my walls for six weeks. There are blinds up at windows, soft carpets to walk on, a huge bath to soak in, and finally a massive sofa to curl up on.

Which is where I am right now. Tea in hand, tears on my cheeks. Happy tears.

It’s been a tumultuous and emotional three year journey to get here where I am.

At home.

My Home.