I’ve been so busy rambling on about Jellycat rainfrogs and God knows what over the past couple of weeks that I’ve not had time to do an update on my current situ’!
Honestly, I do apologise about the weird variation of blog posts recently! I go to work and I write ~proper professional~ stuff… and then I come home, throw open my laptop, and yell into thin air, ‘RIGHT, I know exactly what the world needs: a list of my top 10 soft toy frogs!!!!!!’ 🥴🤣
So anyway, as you probably know, my ex of 8 years and I split up for good, and he moved out of the house six weeks ago.
I’ll start by cutting straight to the point: I am so unbelievably happy right now! I’m like a brand new gal! 💁🏻♀️
I can’t explain the peace, contentment, joy and pure love that I have felt over the past six weeks.
Things I’m beyond grateful for…
· My family ❤️
I mean, I think it goes without saying that my Mum is an actual angel on earth. We are literally Gwen and Stacey (from Gavin & Stacey). She’s always been the most selfless, kind, generous person in the world, but she’s been my absolute rock even more than ever during my breakup. Whether consoling yet another sobbing phone call, or watching Mamma Mia with me on repeat to take my mind off the pain, she was there by my side every step of the way.
Massive, huge, colossal shout out to my Aunty and Uncle, too.
As soon as my Uncle heard that I’d split up with my ex, he set a date, drove up, and took me out for lunch, offering an ear and some exceptional advice.
My Aunty and Uncle are always there for me when I need them. I’ll never forget my Uncle driving me, the dog, and the hamster to our house the day we moved in. It was about 30 degrees, the dog was whinging in his ear, and the hamster was stinking out his clean car, but he didn’t complain.
Does the hamster count as family, too? Of course he does. My Pumpkin-Tofu is my little best mate, and the house wouldn’t be half as homely without him in it, silently judging my outfit choices and eating boujee lunches of boiled egg and soldiers (nope, I’m not joking).
See – the Bradleys are small, yet perfectly formed, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
‘Together, we make a family.’
· My friends 👯♀️
My girls have been there for me through not only the absolute shit-show of the past year, but through every shit-show, since high school and college. They’ve kept me going even on the darkest days, with tough love, constant texts of support, bunches of flowers, afternoon teas, and surprise visits.
I’m also indescribably blessed to have the most incredible work colleagues. I’m not even joking when I say that my face physically aches from laughter after a day at the office. There’re two guys on my team in particular who I wouldn’t have stayed sane without. Their banter has been a real lifeline.
As soon I got into work and was met with a wall of brilliantly bizarre anecdotes and hilarious quotes, I was in peals of belly-laughter and felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted.
During the worst days of my breakup, I felt more like myself at work than I did anywhere else. It was invaluable.
· My job ✍🏼
I love my job SO much that I still have to pinch myself every single morning. I know that sounds cliché and cringe, but it’s true.
It still astonishes me that I write for a living. I work for a wonderful company, in a gorgeous office, in a beautiful city, with the nicest bunch of people I have ever met. I still can’t believe my luck.
If only that little six year old, sat writing stories about pixies on the back of her maths SATS paper, could see what life is like now. Writing is all I’ve ever wanted to do, and I never dared to imagine that one day, it would be my actual job.
I really hope that my younger self is proud of me.
· My house 🏡
Do you ever just walk around your house, stroke the walls, and happy cry? That’s basically what I’ve been doing every single day for the past six weeks.
I was SO lucky to be able to buy my ex out and stay in what I know will be my forever home. Yes, for someone as tight-fisted as I am, it was sickening to see my savings account suddenly drained after years of financial dedication, but my God, this house is worth its weight in gold. It’s my happiest place in the whole, entire world; my little staple of paradise.
The house has changed quite a lot since my ex moved out… I’ve introduced approximately 776 new plants, turned my ex’s home office into the cosiest country bedroom EVER, and transformed the en-suite bedroom into an utterly sensational walk-in-wardrobe.
I’ve decorated, I’ve built furniture, I’ve painted doors and skirting boards, I’ve hung pictures, I’ve learned how to use screwdrivers and Allen keys (which I though were called ‘Alan’ keys after the bloke who invented them…)
Honestly, I’m just a total DIY babe nowadays!
My fave feature of my newly refurbished gaff? My ‘No Scrubs’ doormat, of course! 💁🏻♀️
It wasn’t a ‘want’ … it was a ‘need’ 😍
· My hobbies 🏃🏻♀️📚
I wouldn’t be me without running and writing. I wouldn’t be here without writing and running – that’s a fact. These two things mean more to me than I can ever explain.
The past six weeks have provided me with the opportunity to pour my heart and soul almost entirely into writing and running, and it’s just reinstated what I’ve always believed to be true: there’s nothing more important in life than your passions – the things that have your whole heart.
I’m still not over the fact that I ran an ultra-marathon a few weeks ago… I’ve already booked myself in for another one!
I’m also still not over the fact that I finally ran a sub-40-minute 10k!!!
I’ve done nothing but write since my ex moved out, and honestly, it’s just bloody blissful. When I write, I can delve into and get lost in whichever world I choose. The power of imagination still leaves me spellbound, and I’m eternally thankful to have once again found the space and peace to use this precious tool.
I remember when my ex told me that he believed he should be priority over my running and writing.
Sorry, but never in a million years.
What was it that Lady Gaga once famously said?
‘Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you're wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn't love you anymore.’
… And your passion will never wake up and tell you that it’s become ‘attached’ to a girl it works with, and then try to justify it by stating that it has an ‘addictive personality’ and can become ‘addicted to people.’ 😶
Placing 5th lady at my 35-mile Ultra Marathon at the beginning of September 🤩
· Travel 🌎
I’ve had to sacrifice my solo travels this year while buying my ex out of the house. The one advantage of being extremely tight with money is that I’ve already been able to start building my savings back up.
I have a trip booked that I can’t wait for, with a couple more holidays on the agenda for next year, too. I’m looking forward to exploring some new places, running marathons in random European cities, and generally broadening my world again.
When my ex and I first split up, I had to make a decision: did I dedicate all of my savings to buying him out, but lose a years’ worth of travelling in the process, or did I sell my home and travel extensively, with no real base to come back to?
My theory was that I have my whole life to work through my ever-growing bucket list – but I wouldn’t have my whole life to buy this perfect house that I’ve made my home over the past four years. It was an easy decision. I’ve got the house, and now my goal is to get back ‘on the road.’
Starting with London… my birthday solo trip to the Capital 😍 (shout out to the lovely American lady who stopped me on Tower Bridge and complimented my outfit 🥰)
· My body 🕊️
I don’t mean this in an aesthetic way, of course. I just mean that I am eternally grateful to my body, for everything. After all I’ve put it through with anorexia, it STILL shows up every single day and amazes me. From being too underweight and weak to walk upstairs, to running an ultra-marathon. I’m forever in awe of the strength of my body, and I vow to never hurt it again.
My anorexia usually tends to flare up in times of extreme stress and disdain, so I was on high alert while navigating my painful breakup. I did lose weight, but it wasn’t intentional. I think that for once, I was actually too wrapped up in heartache to even give the voice of anorexia a second thought.
I’ve said this before, but having battled with anorexia for a decade, I am extremely in tune with my body, and I am acutely aware of its warning signals when something isn’t quite right.
During my breakup, my weight plummeted, I wasn’t sleeping (which isn’t like me, AT ALL!), my skin resembled a pepperoni pizza, my hair was shedding, and I got a number of infections.
I’ve made a conscientious effort to be extra kind to my body since my ex moved out, to get it back to full health. I’ve nourished it with nutritious food (pumpkin seeds on errrrrrythang! And if I even SEE another chia seed, I am going to scream. What even are they?! Where do they come from?!). I’ve swapped a couple of my early morning runs for afternoon sessions to ensure a full nights’ sleep. I’ve really listened to my body, and have granted it a rest day if I feel that’s what it’s asking for (I spent the whole of last Sunday lazing on the sofa reading Jacqueline Wilson’s new book. Tonightttt, I’m a rock ‘n’ roll star!!!!).
Thankfully, my body seems to be responding very well to the absence of stress, and is feeling stronger by the day - as is evident by my sub-40-minute 10k!!!!
***
My ex often liked to advise me that I’ll ‘die alone.’
The irony is that I’d have certainly died alone if I’d wasted any more of my life in an unfulfilling relationship.
Now, with so many wonderful things filling my life and indeed my heart, I know that I’ll never be alone.
It’s true: I’m not interested in getting into anything serious for at least the next decade, and I 100% don’t want children, EVER… But having a romantic partner is NOT the most important thing in life. There are so many other types of love, and all of them are equally as fulfilling.
Family love.
Friendship love.
Career love.
Hobby love.
Self-love.
I’ve felt more love and happiness over the past couple of weeks than I ever did when I was with my ex.
Towards the final few years of our relationship, I turned into a very diluted version of myself, because the situation was making me unhappy and very, very unfulfilled.
When I read blogs back from my time in Malta – a solo holiday I took in 2022 after splitting up with my ex for the first time – I remember how liberated I felt to finally be on my own. I felt so free, and many of my friends and family commented on this, admitting that they hadn’t seen me so happy in a long time. I’ve had similar remarks over the last 6 weeks, too.
My ex and I should NEVER have got back together. I could have remained that carefree Malta girl, stayed firmly in my own lane, listened to my gut, and not set myself back a year by re-entering a relationship that was doing nothing but holding me back.
I said this in my last blog and I’ll say it again: you can’t help someone who refuses to help themselves.
I saw the following quote this morning and it’s played on my mind all day: ‘If you always think your happiness is somewhere else, it'll never be where you are.’
My ex always based his own personal happiness on other people’s, or on yet another ever-changing goal, occasion, or milestone on the horizon. ‘I’ll be happy/ better when…’ ‘I’d change if…’ and nothing was ever enough.
Nothing ever changed. He was never happy, and that became utterly exhausting and very frustrating. I’d come home from work, close my front door on the colours of the outside world, and it was as though my house was stuck in a black and white existence.
My ex would rather blame the world for his problems and allow his negative mindset to consume him and everyone around him, rather than take proactive steps towards improving his quality of life.
I’m by no means saying that mental health is an easy feat - of course I’m bloody not. I know this better than anyone. But when someone refuses the things that they know will help them (such as taking prescribed medication), patience wears very thin, especially when it’s a continual cycle of self-destruction.
Eventually, my ex’s negativity infected my own mindset, too.
Over the past year when I felt so down and frankly unhinged, I wondered whether that was just me now: my new state of mind.
No.
I think back to the me before I met my ex. I think back to the me in Malta; the me the first time we split up. I think of the me now, just 6 weeks later: happy.
I mentioned this in a previous blog, but it still astounds me…
When I was struggling with the breakup and consequently my mental health (and for context, I was in a really dark place), my ex said that he ‘refused to be brought down to my level.’
I thought this was VERY rich, considering as I was expected to ride the rollercoaster of his ever-changing emotions for 8 years.
But, that’s okay. My ex is entitled to feel alllllll the emotions - and often extremely so - but by his own admission, he can’t deal with anybody else being upset.
My ex said that I didn’t spend enough time with him, which I do appreciate… But often, he wasn’t nice to be around. The smallest thing could alter his mood. It got to the point where we couldn’t even go to supermarket without him moaning about how heavy the bags were and sulking and giving the silent treatment all the way home. The slightest inconvenience felt like the end of the world.
Spending time on my own was a lot more peaceful.
Don’t get me wrong - I was equally the wrong match for my ex as he was for me, and as I’ve said on many occasions, if you looked under ‘perfect partner’ in the dictionary, you almost certainly wouldn’t find me there. I’ve said and done many things I shouldn’t have, and I’ve acted in ways that I’m definitely not proud of… But my ex has been allowed to freely put his side across to his friends and family, and so this is #carasversion.
I can see things so clearly now that I’m out of the situation, just as everyone said I would.
All those nights I ugly cried and screamed, begging him not to leave me… When I scratch beneath the surface, I wasn’t clinging to him as I initially thought – I was clinging to a version of him that didn’t exist, a version of him I was stupid enough to believe would manifest when we agreed to give it another go, and to the ideology of a relationship we were never going to have.
We couldn’t be further away from the people we were when we met back in 2016.
Although it didn’t feel like it at the time, the ultimate end of our relationship was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me. I only wish it had ended sooner. As in, 4 years sooner.
This past six weeks, I’ve been reunited with myself. I’ll NEVER allow another person to take my sense of self from me again.
My little life might not seem much to some people: I go to work, I run, I write, I see friends and family, I meander around on my solo travels, I watch old episodes of Dennis the Menace, I collect soft toys, I dance around my house to 90s R&B in my pants daily, and I do photoshoots of my hamster wearing assorted headwear… but at the end of the day, I’m extremely happy. I don’t care what other people think. I never have, and I never will. I’m a 30 year old woman - my need for validation ended 15 years ago.
I have my dream job.
I own a beautiful home that I’ll treasure forever.
I have friends and family who are worth their weight in actual gold.
I have unlimited access to the two things that make my heart sing more than anything else in the world: running and writing.
I have a spanning bucket list of countries that I can’t wait to tick off.
I have ambition and drive.
I work damn hard for the things I want in life.
I have inner-contentment.
I’m happy.
And no-one can take that away from me.
***
As I’ve mentioned, there will be no friendship or further contact between my ex and I, although there were still a couple of things to sort in regards to the house which required us to temporarily keep communication open.
I didn’t hear from my ex for five weeks, and then I got an email about him coming to collect the last of his things.
I always knew that this email would eventually need to come, and in all honesty, I was anxious about whether it would impact the progress I’d made.
And you know what? When I saw his name appear at the top of my inbox, I felt… Nothing. It may as well have been an email from B&Q sharing the Top 100 Black & Decker drills of all time.
When the email came through, I was actually in the queue at Waterstones, buying Jacqueline Wilson’s new book (of course I was – what else would a 31-year-old grown-ass woman be doing with her Friday?!). 🤓🤣
After getting the email, I pondered my feelings as I wandered around Manchester’s Castlefield in the sun.
Do you miss him? I asked myself.
And honestly, the answer is no. I actually don’t.
Truthfully, I've been so happy rebuilding my life that I haven't even had time to miss my ex.
I’ve been wild swimming, I’ve enjoyed solo day trips, I’ve been on nights and days out, I’ve seen friends, I’ve seen family, I’ve decorated half the house, I’ve run a sub-40-minute 10k, I’ve got back into horse riding, I’ve been on dates, I’ve been to London… oh yeah - and I’ve run a freakin’ ultra-marathon!!!
My life has been so wondrously full over the past month and a half, with so many more upcoming adventures planned.
Meet the new man in my life: Duke! 😍
Weirdly, my ex feels like a chapter in my life that never actually happened. When I think of him, I just vision a faceless shadow. It's almost as though my mind has blocked him out entirely. I actually feel nothing towards him. I don’t even have the mental space to hate him anymore; my mind is too full of lovely things and lovely people to waste any more of my time on bitterness.
I hope to never cross paths or have any contact l with my ex again.
I posted a blog last week (‘Another Sunny Afternoon, Walking To The Sound of My Favourite Tune’) in which I described spending long, miserable days sitting on the canal bank at Castlefield back in 2016, when my ex broke my heart for the first time. I never thought I’d get him back, and I didn’t think I’d ever get over that.
It felt really quite empowering to tread those same pavements again, 8 years later, with a very different perspective. I got him back, I lost him again, and yet, I’m possibly the happiest I have ever been.
Oh, the things I’d tell my 22 year old self! (Don’t bloody bother, hun!! Go back to Ibiza for another season and date a Spanish lifeguard who brings you whole watermelons as presents… Go back to Venice and kiss a random Italian in the square like you’re in a Cornetto advert… Do anything, but just don’t settle down! You’re far too young for that shit!!) 🤣
Considering how badly I took the break-up and how horrendously I was affected by it over the past 12 months, it really hasn’t taken me long at all to get over it. Like, it took me about 3 days.
And I think that’s a telling sign that deep down, I knew all along that the relationship wasn’t right for me, despite how much I tried to convince myself that it was.
When I really think about it, I actually fell out of love with my ex before we even got married. Your partner should bring out the best in you, not the worst. And my ex and I definitely brought out the worst in each other.
Moral of the story: always trust your instincts and listen! to! your! gut!
Bloody hell, the money I could have saved if I’d to adhered to my own advice!! 😭🤣 I’d be writing this on a yacht in the South of France somewhere, being fed Ferrero Rochers.
As I’m typing, Bittersweet Symphony has just come on my Spotify shuffle. It feels strangely fitting. Except this isn’t bittersweet. It’s just sweet.
'I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now...'
Life feels so goddam good. ❤️
Cara Jasmine Bradley
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