One week. That’s all it’s taken to completely turn my whole mindset around.
I feel bloody fantastic!!
SO, after 8 years together, my ex moved out last Saturday, and honestly, during those first few hours, I felt completely and utterly broken. 10 months’ worth of stress and grief came to a head; I had about 7 panic attacks in the space of an hour, and when I say I was crying, I mean UGLY crying! 🤣
It was one of those ‘now what?’ moments, where you look around and everything may as well be on f*****g fire.
Yes, we’d split up before, but we still lived together during that time, and remained friends. This time, it’s total end game. There will be no friendship, and the only contact we’ll have will be regarding boring adult shit, such as shared home insurance policies that need cancelling. And then that’s it… Strangers. I have gone total cold turkey. 🦃
Last Saturday, I was lying on the floor of my home office, covered in mascara, weeping inconsolably along to Teardrops on my Guitar.
I turned to ‘the bottle’ and downed not one, not two, but THREE blackcurrant Fruit Shoots.
I took a photo of myself, because I hoped I could look back on it when I’d recovered in a year or so and be proud that I survived the incapacitating pain of heartbreak.
… As it happens, it’s only taken me a week to recover.
The photo below is me yesterday morning, on a hike in the Peaks, seven days ‘sober’ on the old Fruit Shoot front. 🤣
After the initial sadness of my ex’s ultimate departure, I bounced back quicker than I ever imagined I would.
By Monday, it was as though someone had given my brain a much-needed deep clean.
In the space of a week, I lost my ex, but I got myself back, and THAT, has been the best gift EVER.
All of the anger and sadness I’ve been plagued with has just… Disappeared.
Throughout this whole sorry scenario, my family and friends repeatedly told me that once I was out of the situation, I’d be able to see things a lot clearer, and I’d be thankful that the relationship ended.
Of course, my ex and I have a whole lotta’ history and I wish him well, but yeah, now that I’ve had time to seek clarity away from the compression, I am in total agreement that we were never going to work in the long term. We should never have got back together in December 2022.
My ex wants that traditional life: a wife who’s going to laze around in bed with him until midday on a weekend, cook for him, tidy up after him, give him children, remind him to brush his teeth at night…
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that - but it’s so far removed from the life I want for myself. I didn’t sign up to be a man’s carer, housemaid, or a substitute mother figure. If I do ever meet anyone else, they’re going to need to be independent, have their shit together, and be ambitious, with a decent amount of get up and go.
I don’t want someone who’s going to constantly mope around and blame the world for their problems without being proactive in trying to better the quality of their own life.
I’m sure there will be someone out there who will value my ambition and independence, and who will want to dance with me until midnight. Someone out there will match my ‘energy,’ just as somebody else will be the right fit for my ex.
Neither me nor my ex are in the wrong for wanting the things we do - it’s just that our life goals couldn’t be further apart. We weren’t a good match, and staying together would have meant severe compromise for one of us.
I want to be more than a wife and a ‘mum.’
I can’t think of anything worse than spending the next few years of my life at soft play centres with a screeching child that’s likely to live at home with me until it’s well into its 30s. Absolutely no thanks.
But, I’m sure a lot of people can’t think of anything worse than spending their weekends running 35 miles ‘for fun,’ and writing books about pixies in their spare time.
Every single one of us is on a totally different path - and that’s absolutely fine. Let people be, without trying to guilt trip them into a life that you think they should want.
I want endless adventure, I want the freedom of spontaneity, I want to solo travel, I want to pursue my love of running and see where else it takes me, I want to write, I want my money to be my own, and I want my precious time to be my own.
My ex often told me that if I carried on living the way I do, I’d ‘die alone.’ 😅
What he always failed to realise is that I’ll die happy, because I’ve stayed true to myself and had the balls to go against the grain to prioritise what makes ME feel fulfilled.
Now that I’ve got ‘me’ back, I love my life, so, so much. I’m in my dream job. I have my dream house. I have an extensive bucket list of countries I want to visit, on top of the 31 I’ve already been lucky enough to explore. I run. I write. I live in utter peace, and I feel totally content. I couldn’t ask for more than the simple pleasures that I’ve worked hard for. ❤️
The fact is, we all die alone regardless of whether we’ve had 10 children, no children, a long, happy marriage, or have spent much of our life single.
Partners die, relationships with adult children break down, friends move away… the only person who is guaranteed to stay in your life forever, is YOU.
We all have the potential to live out the rest of our days in complete solitude, be it by choice or not. How we use that solitude is the game changer in whether we die happy and fulfilled, or melt away, pained and unsatisfied.
If you’re happy in yourself and find contentment in the silence of solitude, you’ll never truly be alone, in either life or the pathway to death.
On the other hand, if you waste years running from solitude, hiding within the shallow depths of others, then it’s eventual, inevitable onset will likely kill you.
It’s the unhappy ones who really die alone, because they’ve spent a lifetime chasing an unobtainable joy through others that they have been unable to manifest within themselves.
Anyway - that’s enough philosophy for one day!! ‘Tell me you’ve been reading self-help books without telling me you’ve been reading self-help books’ 🤣 I need a bloody toasted bagel after that!
I feel like I should be sat round a campfire in the Outback wearing hareem pants and telling my fellow camp-mates about the time I had a spiritual awakening after a rock spoke to me in deepest, darkest Peru or something. 🤣 (disclaimer: that definitely didn’t happen, BTW!)
Sorry, I promise to stop being so infuriatingly spiritual and hippie-dippie now, man. 😉
When you notice a chunky Jellycat seagull soft toy in the background of your new selfie… 🤣 oh Cazza, when will you learn that you can run from the geeky girl persona, but you can’t hide 🤣
As I said in my last blog (‘Everything I’ve Learned About Relationships After Getting Divorced at 30’ - read here), it wasn’t so much the fact that my relationship ended that upset me – it was how it ended. My ex became somebody I no longer recognised.
I realise now that I wasn’t hanging onto the relationship or him as he is now, but instead, I was desperately trying to search for a trace of the person I met and fell in love with.
I’ve wasted so much of the past year agonisingly attempting to decode the failings of our relationship, defending myself against certain points that I will never agree with, and despairingly trying to get my ex to see things from MY point of view…
To say that the whole process has been mentally exhausting would be an understatement.
But, at the end of the day, it was never going to change anything: we’re just not compatible, and we should have called it quits a LONG time ago.
Accepting this realisation has been liberating.
I’ve LOVED welcoming back the Cazza B I know and love this week. It’s as though a huge weight has been lifted. I feel reenergised by the sheer joy of life!
I can’t believe how happy I’ve felt this past week. I was honestly terrified that I’d never get over the past year, and worried that it would poison the quality of my life forevermore, but all of that negativity has just dissipated.
Self-care has been a big part of my journey.
I’ve eaten healthy and nutritious food, I’ve gone to bed early, I’ve read, I’ve journaled, I’ve surrounded myself with friends and family, I’ve taken time out to myself, I’ve upped my beauty routine (which, as many of you know, basically just consists of egg whites and olive oil 😅), I’ve looked after my skin, I’ve worn my favourite outfits… it’s been blissful, actually.
The result? I ran one of my best ever 10k times the other night, quite effortlessly!
Prior to my ex moving out, I was so burnt out and run down. I got a kidney and ear infection back to back, and my mental health was in tatters.
My battle with anorexia has meant that I’m very in tune with my body. I’m aware of how much strain my body has taken on over the past few months, as a result of stress.
Since my ex left, my body has felt physically ‘lighter.’ It’s almost as though I’ve been holding my breath for 10 months, and I’ve finally been able to exhale and expel all of the badness.
Here are some lovely thing I’ve done during the past 7 days… 🥰
Ran my 36th half marathon of the year.
Painted the downstairs bathroom. (I’m extremely fortunate that I was in a position to be able to buy my ex out of our house, which as many people know, is my absolute dream home. I’ve poured four years of work, pride and love into this house, so letting it go just wasn’t an option).
Had blinds put up in the two bedrooms and my home office.
Completely moved the bedrooms around. The second bedroom was my ex’s home office, but since he’s been gone, I’ve made it into my main bedroom. What was the main bedroom is now going to be my walk-in-wardrobe!!!
Hosted a one-woman ‘McFly Night.’ Basically, I just danced on top of the bed to McFly songs for two hours straight.
My new bedroom 😍 (this was pre-blinds, btw. They’re now up and looking lovely 👌🏻)
I’ve also added this brilliant wall-art to the downstairs bathroom, which I feel will be appreciated by any White Chicks fans out there…
Oh, and one of my girlies popped round with her gorgeous baby and these stunning flowers, which absolutely made my day…
Finally, after having my life put on hold for a year, I can look forward to the future again. I have so much to feel excited about!
On Sunday, I’m running my first ever Ultra Marathon, and I cannot WAIT to give my all to the challenge! 2024 marks 10 years since anorexia first came into my life, and I wanted to do something to celebrate my body. How better to do this than to allow it to show off its extraordinary capabilities over a 35-mile race…! God knows how it’s going to pan out – my only goal is to get round without breaking any of my limbs or being chased by cows.
Running has been my one constant through this hellish past year. It’s always been there for me, waiting patiently while I’ve cried, agonised, and been eaten up by bitterness. It’s soothed my blazing mind, provided an outlet for my scalding rage, and to be honest, it’s actually probably been the sole reason that I’ve not lost the plot completely.
I owe my life to running - my miracle cure. It instils within me more strength, happiness and confidence than any other human could ever provide me with, and that is exactly why I’ll always make it my number one priority. 🔐❤️
‘You make me feel like I’m alive again… and if we’ve only got this life and this adventure, well then I, want to share it with you…’ - Coldplay
Running is everything to me, and more. 🔐
My relationship started to go Pete Tongue in June 2023, shortly after I started my dream job, so I only had a very short window of time to actually celebrate the fact that my writing career had finally taken off. I can relish in all of that now, and can actually put my full focus into it, as well as my writing outside of work. I want to have another of my books published within the next couple of years, and my evenings can once again be dedicated to creating the work that means more to me than anything else in the world.
I’m also going to be working on building my savings back up so I can get some solo travels booked in next year. I can’t wait to see more of the world! Unpopular opinion, but give me a plane ticket over a baby scan picture ANY DAY.
Upon hearing my news last week, a wise friend of mine said, ‘There’s more than one way to live life’ and I absolutely LOVE that. This is my life, and I can’t wait to start living it again, MY WAY.
Ya girl has also got TWO dates next week! Don’t get me wrong - there are no words to express how utterly UNinterested I am in having another relationship for at least another 10 years, but why shouldn’t I enjoy dating? I mean, based on my track record, they’ll probably go catastrophically wrong, but it’s all material for the blog isn’t it? 🥴🤣
I’m so grateful for this past week, and the clarity its brought.
The house has been filled with music, fresh flowers, good food, and contentment.
I promise myself that I will NEVER allow ANYBODY to make me question my worth or steal my happiness again.
The end of a relationship is undeniably sad, but it’s not as tragic as losing yourself to the wrong person.
The very last thing my ex said to me as he hauled his suitcase out of the door and I stood crying on the stairs was, ‘You’ll be fine on your own. You were fine all the times you left me on my own and went off doing your own thing.’
And he was right.
Finally, I am fine again. ❤️
***
P.S: Richard Madden, if you happen to be reading this, here’s your cue to send ya gal a cheeky DM!!
(Yes, because I’m sure Richard Madden spends his bank holidays reading blogs written by emotionally unstable women who wash their hair in eggs, and collect soft toy rain-frogs…) 🤣
P.P.S: just to clarify, I do mean Richard Madden, as in the fit Scottish guy from The Bodyguard.
I don’t mean Richard Madeley. One of my friends once misheard me and spent months convinced that I had a weird obsession with Richard Madeley. I’m sure Richard Madeley is absolutely lovely, but in this instance, I am referring to Richard MADDEN. 😇
Cara Jasmine Bradley ©
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