There was no big moment where I woke up and thought, “I am going to implode my entire life”. In fact, it was a series of small shifts that started happening in my mind starting at 40. I had a seemingly ideal life, 3 healthy kids, a kind generous husband, and an active social life. I was thin and unique looking, some people would call me pretty.
But inside something was happening. An unease, a worry, an intrusive thought. They started small at first. I wondered why my husband wouldn’t talk to me anymore, our conversations hovered around kids, logistics and finances. He had never been the same since I had our last child, 5 years prior. I knew he blamed me for the extra financial burden it put on our family, even though she was of course dearly loved.
Our sex life had dwindled, once a month became the norm, and even then it was without affection or passion. It felt like a task to be done. I obliged without a word of protest. It was the least I could do, I rationalised in my head. 4-8 minutes. I told myself I was happy, and it could be worse, all while pleasuring myself once a day, another task to be done. Later in couples therapy, he mentioned how he wanted to leave me after I had our third child. I felt crushed by the fact, that I wasn’t actually loved, I was “put up with”. ‘Lucky’ that he decided not to leave me.
One day I listened to a podcast – I don’t recall the name but the podcaster was going on and on about living an “authentic life”. At first I thought about what nonsense that was – living with authenticity didn’t make the world go round, it didn’t put food in my kids mouths, and it certainly wasn’t congruent with keeping the status quo in front of friends and family. What is authenticity I thought? As a natural researcher, I started to think about this more often….these few stuck out:
The first was self awareness – understanding my character, motivation, feelings, and desires. Just thinking about being self aware seemed overwhelming. For the better part of 15 years my only feelings revolved around my children, and how to be a good mother. How to prepare them for life, and make them feel loved and safe. This motivated me, and I wholly defined myself as a mother. But what did I truly desire? When I was honest with myself, I wanted a life I didn’t have, one where I could talk to my husband, one where we had common interests, one where he cared what I thought and said, and one where he cared about my non-financial needs.
The second was being open to feedback – I started to realise that I didn’t listen to my husband either – we didn’t have the same interests and I didn’t make time for him. I knew deep down I took him for granted. He was at the very core, a nice man.
The third was knowing who I am, I had started to doubt who I was. I knew I wasn’t happy, I knew I spent too much time pretending. I didn’t enjoy our social life, I found it shallow and longed for connections. I missed my true friends who lived far away. I started to hate it and to hate going out. I threw myself into my work, and my children, but it wasn’t working anymore.
I started to think about how living authentically could help me live a more meaningful life, and ultimately bring me happiness.
But I didn’t know how to do that, practically.
Then one day I discovered a hobby that would change my life forever. I started to take lessons at my local park. And one day there was a man there that made me smile. The chemistry was instant. I tried to stop it but the feelings for him came at me like a freight train. I thought about him obsessively. He listened to me, he saw me for who I was. I could be completely myself around him. He taught me how to play well, with endless patience. He took walks with me, lay in the park with me on the grass, held my hand tight. I fell completely and madly in love with a stranger. The opposite of my husband in every way.
I started to have an affair. I set the wheels in motion to implode my entire life. It wasn’t conscious, it wasn’t calculated. It felt like fate, like this was exactly what was meant to happen.
It was messy, it was tragic, it hurt my family and my children. But I couldn’t stop it. I became obsessed with what I then believed to be, living authentically. For the first time in my life, I was having sex the way I wanted to, and how often I wanted to. It was pure bliss.
Ultimately, 18 months later, this relationship ended. Again it hurt my family and my children, and most of all, my core self. This was living authentically? I didn’t trust myself at all. I started to fantasise about killing myself, constantly. My children didn’t need a mother like me. What did I have to give anyone? I wasn’t a good wife, I wasn’t a good girlfriend, I lied and hurt people I loved for my own selfish reasons. How could I go back to my life without affection? Without intimacy?
I had hit rock bottom.
Then I started a journey with therapy. Self love, acceptance, forgiveness. It was a long road, and a road I am still very much on. But one day I woke up and didn’t want to die anymore. I wanted to live, and truly live.
“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” – C.G. Jung
I decided I wanted to live my life the way I wanted, and not how I thought other people expected it to be. Personally, for me this means letting go of small talk, of lunches I don’t want to attend, of gossip, of alcohol, and of most people I knew socially.
Part of self love and self acceptance, from what my therapist says at least, is learning to accept being alone. I know this to be true, but I also know that there is nothing more important (aside from my children) than finding love. I know that I have endless amounts of love to give, and really, what is more important in life than the connections we make? The way we make people feel? Some people in life are meant to change the world, but many of us are just meant to enrich the lives in front of us, for the people closest to us.
I am awake, with my eyes wide open for love.