I’ve been holding onto this first post of my new blog for some time now because, although important for me to tell my story & indeed (re-)introduce myself properly to those who have been interested enough to visit, it leaves me feeling all kinds of vulnerable.
My previous blog was about the joys of being the wife of a professional wrestler.
This one is about lifestyle following the breakdown of my marriage, when said pro-wrestler simply decided one day that he didn’t love me & fucked off out of my life.
But, as I write this, it is the day after my birthday & it just feels “right” to share this now as I begin another year of my life completely different from the 32 levels already completed.
…Also, I’m on a serious sugar rush from leftover birthday cake & need some kind of outlet for it. We’ve all done it!
Every trace of my old blog (which shall remain nameless for the following reason) was deleted when “he” (which shall be all I refer to the ex-husband-to-be as) requested I remove any likeness or mention of him from my social media should it be a result in Google when the legions of fans & promotors search for him.
Firstly: K, hun, but you’re not that important!
Secondly: That’s the only unrelatable part of the otherwise painfully relatable tales of my plus size, body confident, working class, chronically ill, clinically depressed, dog obsessed, northern, thirtysomething life.
My ultimate goal in life was to have a Real Housewives Of lifestyle with a 1950s kind of marriage.
Now that that has all gone down the shitter, my new ultimate goal is to use my flare for writing for the greater good.
Not in a necessary way like campaigning for positive change – I’m too overwhelmed by watching Hollyoaks five times a week to ever commit to anything else! – but in a way of “I know right? I’m so glad I’m not the only one who thinks that!”.
Although a really wanky thing to say, representation really is important, & going through all of the above with so much support from people who have experienced so many of literally the exact same things without having ever “gone public” really opened my eyes to this.
I’ve bonded over stories of horrible exes & even more horrible break-ups with people who swiftly upgraded their status from Instafriend to caringly hilarious pillar of support who checks in with me every day to remind me that I’m a pretty bloody amazing person despite being so ridiculously unloveable that I couldn’t possible be worth working on a marriage with.
And, while this all sounds like a Loose-Women-on-steroids level of man hating, I’ll never publicly slate “him” nor will I focus completely on self-indulgent waffle about my feelings about my journey through my divorce.
What will forever be in the spotlight of my writing, however, is the normalising of all the widely agreeable “unpopular opinions” that many of us have strong opinions on but we’re too afraid of the backlash to freely discuss.
One person’s TMI vent about the contents of a bedside table is another’s moment of clarity that prevents a straw-that-broke-the-camel’s-back meltdown.
From raising awareness of the completely normal feeling of wanting to shit in the teapot he bought me & delivering it to his new address to discussing the perils of being too depressed to change my knickers for nine days (both true stories – sorry not sorry!), I’m here to share the contents of my head, heart, lifestyle, & learnings so you don’t ever feel any type of way about experiencing these things in your own lives.
Stick around; my abnormalities will remind us both that we’re both normal.