Me, unravelled and unpacked.


I’m acid leaking everywhere

A bitter root that doesn’t care

A tainted heart beyond repair

Too jaded to even feel despair

Just rotting…



The Millstone

Dealt with it I said

Buried I said

Forgotten I said

Restored I said

But its bitter roots won’t die

There are suspicions I can’t let lie

Sentiments I can’t believe

Doubts that never leave

Unstitchable dreams

Re-repeating themes

Unresponsive pain

Comparisons again 

Not sunk but sinking

Alive but not thriving 

Static but unstable 

Periodically untenable


Paddling out against the tide.
Fighting through each wave
intent on pushing me back to shore

Arriving exhausted and empty.
Getting my head above the water
I sit up in the still and wait.

I dream of the wave; the best ride yet.
But instead there is nothing.
An unchangable landscape forever.

Then without warning it’s here.
Looming large, out of the stillness
Contrasting so fully; I’m caught unaware.

So to catch this possible life- changer?
Or take the gamble and wait for another?
The only way back is one decision or the other.

So what next?

I want to believe in you, but I’m so scared.
I can’t be the strong one forever.
I don’t believe you are strong enough.
You’re just learning to love me again
Just a beginner
Can you carry us?
Do you care enough?
Where is your strength from when you don’t believe?

The Way It Is

Yes, I have the choice:

This could cripple or this could cure.


I choose life.

I choose now.

I choose faith.

I choose God

I trust Him

I will be fine

He’ll see me right.

I can do everything through him who gives me strength. Philippians 4 v 13

Nothing has changed today. Same family, nice weather, same house… But something has warped inside: The strength that was holding me together did a runner in the night. I know its not gone forever, it’s just hiding: God will shepherd it back for me. But in the meantime I feel like  marionette with no strings.

I knew there would be days like this, but I didn’t expect the wave of emotion to be so strong; just when I think I’ve got my head above the water, another wave crashes down on me. It’s not even  explainable: Nothing’s changed. I think it’s just reality kicking in…

Yesterday was officially a bad day: I smashed my car into an empty one, lost 4 hours of work and had a monumental childminding fail, resulting in kids being abandoned for 45mins. The spinning plates came crashing down and with them came my ability to cope – or rather my strength. Of course I can still cope: I did the grown up friends when the cloud hadn’t passed this morning – called in some childcare and clear the decks to cry it out.

Who was the first call when I had the accident – my husband. Who was the first call when the childcare failed? Who was the first person emailed when I lost my work? And who is the person leaving for a trial separation at the end of the month? Yep, same guy.

It’s like last September all over again – a year on and I”m still crying and hurting and wishing with every inch of my being that this life wasn’t happening to me. I was supposed to have the fairytale, not this.

The romantic meeting in the street? Check.

The best friend who fancied me? Check.

The dream wedding? Check

The fab lover? Check

The person who lit up a room and always cleared a way for me to join him in that light? Check

Beautiful children with Daddy there to welcome them into the world? Check?

The solid marriage that saw us into our old age and pottering together for chips on the seafront?

That’s where the list stops.

This could be it. The beginning of the end. Sure, I know on a brighter day you could  say the start of a new chapter. But I didn’t want anything new, I liked what I had, when I had what I thought I had: security, trust and love. I’m realistic to see that something needed to change to get us back to that, but I wish we hadn’t left there  in the first place.

So a new phase begins, but I’m not ready; in truth I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. But I have to be. God has to hurry up and shepherd back that backbone because I’ve got people who need me strong. They didn’t ask for this either and they’ll never know the fully story, just that things aren’t working out. I need to be here to mop tears that aren’t mine and offer reassurances that I don’t have and encourage belief in dreams that didn’t come true for me. God help me.

Precious Hearts

Age 3: Can we bring toys?

Age 6: Will you come in for a cuppa when you drop us off?

Age 9: Are you going to divorce?


Age 3: Can I see the house?

Age 6: Will Daddy collect me from school?

Age 9: Do you think you’ll get back together?


Age 3: Does Daddy’s house have a park?

Age 6: Will you be lonely Mummy?

Age 9: Can I tell my friends?


It’s not complicated

He loved her

It wasn’t just sex, just escapism

He loved her

He transferred his love from me, to her

So for us to survive, he needs to switch it back.

But he can’t

So he’s going.


I meant what I said about you ruining our marriage

I meant it when I said it was bent but you broke it

I was astounded that you looked surprised when I said it

You say you’re not happy, but you were with her:

Without her, you would’ve seen you were happy with me

Without her, your marriage promises would be in tact

We’d be reigniting not rebuilding

Without that, there’d be a foundation of trust

Instead there’s a foundation of lies,

a vat of unforgiveness,

a dirty secret

a shattered vow

a chasm of pain

a mountain to climb

To Rob Ryan


Papercutting your heart on your sleeve fulfills a nation of people whose lovers hearts are mute:

We pretend your words are his words

We hope that your feelings echo his feelings

We long for the depth of emotion present in your work to be evident in our lives