Tinder and Blind

It has taken me years to update this blog. I have thought about doing so many times but life has well and truly got in the way, until today. As I come up to the final few days before I go on maternity leave with my second child (and no step-children!), I thought it is probably time to write down what a contrast my life has taken since my last post.

The last you heard from me (unless you actually know me) was that I had a boyfriend with whom I’d moved from Dubai back to London, and encouraged him to get in contact with his estranged daughter, for which I would become a ‘step mother’ figure to. We were together almost four years before I broke up with him. It was really hard for me to do, but as Covid hit and we were together 24/7, I realised I wasn’t the person I wanted to be. I felt like a mother in our relationship, rather than part of a team. We had very different interests and values and I was staying because I felt a duty of care to him.

I ended up moving out and staying with an old school friend for a few months. During which time, lockdown had opened up a bit and the only other person I knew that had a breakup in their thirties, was a colleague of mine, Max.

Max and I were work friends for a couple of years and had a lot in common in terms of our upbringing. We would also be the ones who left the bar last and offloaded our relationship woes onto eachother, though Max actually encouraged me to stick it out and make things work with my ex, because, after all, lockdown was a whole different situation that no one had ever experienced before. I took his advice after a couple of long lockdown walks around Regents and Hyde Park, where we’d drink prosecco decanted into thermos flasks, and just chat till it got dark (I had invited my ex along to these walks but he always rejected them, telling me to go while he worked). I really tried. But alas, I knew deep down that I wasn’t happy.

The straw that broke the camels back for me was when my grandad had a heart attack; I packed my bags and jumped in the car to drive to Devon to see him. I didn’t even think twice about my ex coming with me or not- I wanted to go alone even though he had offered to accompany me. My grandad luckily recovered well and when I left to drive back to London, I’ll never forget the words he said: “sometimes the hardest things we have to do in life, turn out to be the best. You know what I’m referring to.” I knew in that moment that he was referring to my relationship. I had also walked along the beach and burst into tears to my best friends, telling them I just wasn’t happy and they aired the revelation that they didn’t think we were compatible.

I returned to London and broke up with my ex. It was extremely hard; the guilt of telling him I wasn’t happy- convincing him that he wasn’t either. The words ‘my mum trusted you’, referring to his late mother whom I’d promised I’d stand by her son and ensure he would be okay. The guilt of now having a little girl who saw me as a sort of parental figure, that I’d now be losing. It was hard.

I leant on Max for support; as I said, I didn’t know anyone else that had been through a breakup in their thirties, and he had broken up with his ex a year prior. He went through a bout of depression after his breakup but was coming out of the other side and was a huge crutch for me. He encouraged me to go out and do things for myself, and we planned a summer of fun now that lockdown was ending. I had a few weddings that year and asked him to be my +1 as a mate, we thought it’d just be two colleagues who were good friends, getting drunk and partying all summer- the roaring 20’s as everyone was calling it- by now of course, it was 2021.

I had a cottage in the Cotwolds then, in which I went on my own to visit and get some down time to think. I’d go on long walks and just cry, feeling totally lost. I’d call friends and tell them how lost I felt. Some came to the cottage with booze, sweets, food, a proper girls weekend- for which I’ll forever be grateful. I took some time and moved in with my friend while I figured out my next step in terms of a more permanent living situation.

Max continued to be a support to me, we went on another lockdown walk and he kissed me, saying ‘we knew it was always going to happen’. I genuinely didn’t. I remember saying ‘but we’re friends’, he apologised, and I kissed him back. A lot. I felt a connection and was totally surprised by how quickly I saw him in a different light. He was adamant that I wasn’t to use him as a rebound, that I should spend the summer having fun. I signed up to dating apps, got back in contact with old flames, but still I couldn’t stop thinking about Max. We went to bars again, I was out a lot- any chance I got for brunch, drinks, catch ups, I was there. A group of close colleagues and I all met up and Max and I would sneak off for a kiss without anyone else knowing. It was exciting. I was also aware that I shouldn’t rush into anything, but my god it felt so right. A few months in, Max asked me on a date, a ‘I want to take you out on a date, not as mates’. And he did. Everything just clicked into place and it felt as though my whole life had been leading up to this and it was undeniable.

In June 2021 I went to a friends wedding in Mykonos, and found myself catching the bouquet and sending him photos of me in a veil- anyone would’ve run a mile and thought I was mad. Max sent the photo to his sister in more of an affectionate way than a ‘I have a psycho on my hands’.

At the end of June I took a client out for lunch. Coincidentally, Max was taking his clients to the same place but a day later- he told me to change it to the same day so we could all be there together. I did. No one at work knew about us yet, we wanted to keep it for us, to ensure it was the real deal. But that didn’t stop us from telling our clients! By the end of our meal we had joined tables and Max’s clients all knew what was going on with us. Max had to leave for a stag do so I hosted his clients and we continued into the night. When I got home, I had noticed that I’d been getting up to use the loo way more than usual that day, so at around midnight, I did a pregnancy test (don’t ask why I had one at home). I just knew it would be positive, and it was. I looked in the mirror and said out loud ‘oh my god, I’m pregnant!’. I just stared at myself in the mirror and although in shock, it was a happy shock.

Max was none the wiser at a stag in Devon. I googled ‘what do you do when you find out you’re pregnant?’. and I did not sleep. I text the people I knew who would be up- friends in America and Hong Kong, I also called my brother, to no avail. The next morning at 6am, I called my brother again and told him- ‘oh my gyod’ was his reaction. I had told my brother all about Max, but now something very serious was about to happen. I needed reassurance that I was doing the right thing by not calling Max and telling him over the phone; I got the reassurance and so waited. I went to lunch with a friend and kept it quiet- popping into Boots at Liverpool Street to get prenatal vitamins while I waited for her. I wanted to tell her with every part of me, but I didn’t want everyone knowing before Max.

That felt like the longest day of my life, not telling him. I waited till he was home in London, and walked from Victoria to Battersea Park before texting to ask if he could meet me in the park. I had worked out that the due date would be bang on his birthday, so when I saw him we sat on a bench and I said ‘expect a special delivery on your birthday’. He looked at me with wide eyes (probably from a heavy weekend) and said ‘really? no way? this is the best news ever’. And I said ‘are you sure? are you happy? i can’t do this as co parenting friends, so we’re all in’ and he said ‘yes of course’.

And that was the beginning of our family.

Nine months later in December, on my birthday, we were in Mexico where he proposed in the most romantic way- on the beach with champagne and rose petals, a photographer, and our baby girl. It was perfect. About a month later, we accidentally conceived our second child!

Which brings me to today, writing from our house in Surrey (remember one of my previous posts said one day I want a house in Surrey to bring up two kids, and have an amazing husband? I was 26 when I wrote that, and it’s basically happened). After moving from my friends spare room, to a house in Battersea, completing my Masters in Psychology, working, having our little girl in Chelsea, before moving to Surrey after finding out we were expecting number 2, we are now hoping to buy our first family home here. I do have to reflect and think about how my life has developed, and just sit and realise how bloody lucky I am to have what I have; especially in terms of Max and my daughter- and soon to be baby two!

If my story is anything to go by, it’s proof that life can work out in the most unexpected, magical way.