I’ve pretty much written about everything; my c section, breastfeeding,  my battle with my weight, my fears for Ella. But I haven’t written much about my relationship. For so many reasons, I didn’t, and I really always felt like I was living a lie.

And truth be told, I was. Everyone has assumed things about us, and I just never corrected those beliefs. But the time has come to face the music, and we’ve separated. In fact, we separated before and tried to work it out, only to now separate again.

I have a lot of fear. How in the hell can I be a good mum to three kids on my own? Will I always be lonely? Will I ever  feel love again? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Some days are much harder than others. When Buds is crying for his Daddy, mad at me that he’s not there, I’m left feeling guilty and despondent. Just trying to wrap my head around logistics- work, daycare, kids, groceries. But that will eventually sort itself out.

It may seem totally weird that I’m drowning myself in my 21 day fix instead of a pint of Baskin Robbins, but it literally feels like the only thing I have control of right now. I am on a regiment, and kicking its ass. I’m not a size two, but for the first time in a long time I feel good, and I’m hopeful, so hopeful,  that the feelings will find their way to my heart, and will heal that as well.

So many changes are happening, and I hope that I can be strong for my littles;  that I can show them love, patience, and kindness, and in showing them, hopefully I can show myself at the same time.