Staying single in the Covid cloud
With all the misery of lockdown, it’s no wonder the divorce hotline is ringing off the hook. You only have to think about Christmas to see that being confined together will either bring out the best or the worst in a relationship. And law firms have reported a 40per cent rise in couples wanting to separate.
For my friends it’s been a mixed bag. Out of the 10 couples I’m closest to, two split up, three only just got through in one piece, three have surprise babies on the way, one got engaged and the final couple are renewing their vows.
Me, I spent lockdown totally alone. Just two weeks before we got caged in, I split with my boyfriend.
I was flooded with sympathy, a bit like that scene in Shirley Valentine where everyone in the restaurant feels sorry for her being solo. But I can honestly say it did me the power of good.
About five years ago I was jilted at the altar by my long-term partner, which came as quite a shock, two weeks after we’d returned from holiday where he’d got a tattoo of my name across his chest.
(If you are reading this now sat next to a man with “Melanie” over his heart, then #awkward).
It was doubly heartbreaking and messy because there was a young stepchild involved who I adored. After that, I found myself in a different relationship every year, meaning each Christmas I’d watch my new man put up the tree, knowing it wouldn’t be him doing the same 12 months later.
I couldn’t connect, yet kept filling the emotional void with a new person, hoping they’d be The One to mend me.
If coronavirus has done anything, it’s broken the cycle of my dependency on needing a man.
Being totally alone became liberating. Hearing my friends at each other’s throats reminded me things could be much worse.
Equally, hearing my friends lovedup was comforting – knowing that in the future, when the time was right, it would happen again for me.
I’d focused so much on the BandAid boyfriends that I’d never healed my injury. But this time I finally did.
So much so that while having a wardrobe clear-out, I spotted what was meant to be my wedding dress.
I’d never been able to glance at it before and yet suddenly I had it on.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I no longer saw the sobbing mess who’d thought she would never be able to face it again.
In fact, I loved it so much I’ve decided to dye it red and wear it to the first fancy do I’m invited to when parties start again.
No, it’s not fun being on your tod when the whole world is collapsing, but this was the first time in my adult life I stayed truly single and it’s been surprisingly empowering.
That tells me this pandemic has made me a stronger woman which is my silver lining to the Covid cloud.