I was chin-wagging with a friend a work today.. I know, surprising, isn’t it, that I actually still have friends, especially after being so mischievous. However, she’s around the same vintage as me, recently out of her marriage and was chatting away about the 25 years she was married to Mr Useless-Waste-Of-Space. Whilst she’s giving out about the problems and issues she had during her marriage it suddenly occurred to me that she spent the entire 25 years trying to fold herself to fit the life and partner she had chosen.

Obviously not everyone but I suspect a lot of us are guilty of that, we spend our lives trying to fold ourselves around and in between the lives of our partners and our families. And when we look back with the benefit of hindsight we realise just how much we have folded ourselves, how we have twisted and pulled ourselves, contorted ourselves into tiny spaces just to keep everything together in one piece. No wonder it’s so uncomfortable towards the end. And it’s not a healthy situation to be in. Obviously.

Folding ourselves didn’t work. Folding ourselves doesn’t work. What we should be looking for, at this ripe old age when we have gained a modicum of sense (please!) is for someone with whom we might unfold instead, within and beyond attraction, with whom we feel the compromises work both ways, the sharing is mutual, trust reciprocal, enjoyment palpable, the connection strong, deep and sure.

It sucks that I had to wait until 51 years of age before I figured that out. And sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.

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