I moved to London 17 years ago on 15th June and normally mark the event with a big yay on Facebook and a bottle of red in the pub with a mate or two, or even just a glass of fizz on the garden.
Not this year. Things have changed. Life has changed. And my feelings about the place I happily called home have changed.
It’s not my home.
I was 36 when I moved to London from Worcester. Came here in a van and car full of stuff and moved into the spare room of a bloke I had met online.
It was a very long Sunday and I started a job the following day. By the time I had finished my first day of work I knew the job wasn’t for me.
I went back on day 2 and we both sat down mid morning and agreed to terminate. Shit what now!!!
I wasn’t out of work long thanks to the internet and lots of phone calls.
Two years later that job ended and I changed careers and found my niche.
I had mood issues but found out they were due to an underlying illness yet work continued because I was good.
I tried dating and had a lot of disasters until a borrowed man found me and we filled a gap in each other’s lives for over 10 years. Being a part time love suited me.
I began crafting and formed a network of friends which expanded into other areas. I volunteered for a charity and my friends list on social media grew.
I learnt to drive and went to festivals and loved the freedom and the sounds and made more friends. I had two crashes in London and stopped driving as quickly as I started with my confidence knocked. I want to drive again but not in London, the roads are full of nutters.
I was still emotional at times which came out in public when alcohol was involved.
I enjoyed a full cultural London life and life was good ish with weekends full of galleries, pubs, markets, shopping, private members bars that work was a rest from it all. I worked hard and played hard.
Me and the man drifted but it was to be expected.
Work was up and down but it gave me a good life which meant I could enjoy London.
Health wise I lost loads of weight then got diagnosed with issues that were manageable that meant I gained some back.
I continued working on various projects until I was rushed into hospital this time last year during my last assignment for the scariest 48 hours of my life wired up to machines. I evaluated life and took time out for me.
Then I fell in love under a clock and things that had seemed important like earning money just weren’t.
He was not my usual type, he was tall, skinny, with long dreads and the strongest arms that give the best cuddles. Weirdly he lived 500 metres from a night club in the middle of wales that I spent my misspent youth in, so not local. By rights we shouldn’t have matched on the dating site but we did. We had great times including the best Christmas and new Year ever. And we were doing okay with weekends together watching films, making films and going for long walks and doing house renovations. We talked late into the nights as we put the world to rights. We were more than okay and I began to see a future.
Then corona happened. We packed up a car with my stuff and I left my home, thinking it would only be a few weeks. Nothing mattered so long as we were together. We had a great time and found myself in a full blown relationship living with someone which freaked me a bit. The news was full of doom and lockdown went on longer and longer and I had a meltdown being so far from home. My meds were running out and my body was changing. Positive and negative pregnancy tests were done which drove me nuts, my body was changing and I didn’t know why. I missed my space and the things I took for granted and thought I needed to be home and we ended up rowing over silly things, until we both snapped so I packed up my stuff and left. Heartbroken.
I walked in the house and wanted to turn around and leave. This was not home, well not my home.
I spoke to my doc and went through med stuff inc preggo tests and the blood tests confirmed no baby but officially in menopause. No babies for me then. I suddenly found myself in mourning. Mourning for the positive tests I had wanted to hold, and mourning for all those periods I didn’t care about now I had found a man who would be a good papa and feeling the loss of a man who thought I was being a bitch which I was in all fairness.
So I am in London and I watch the news and get scared. The life I came here for and enjoyed has gone. And it’s okay.
I haven’t seen many people, just two people one of whom is a neighbour and the other part of my choir. Only a couple of others have made contact even though a few know I am back in town and I have realised this is not home and friends are merely acquaintances and not really part of my day to day existence and definitely not a reason to stay here.
I have maintained social distancing for when I see my love again, if he forgives my leaving, so he can feel safe and not compromised.
I look at the looming towers outside my window and long to see hills. I don’t want the dirty river Thames but the clean Severn that has been part of my life for far longer.
Since covid I have struggled to find work and despite continually contacting agencies and applying for jobs work is eluding me.
It gets me down and I have no one to share that lowness with. I am trying. I know the future I want and it is not here, it is not in London. It might not even be in Wales even though the person currently is.
I have survived the lowness though.
Due to how the world has changed work no longer needs to be in an office in London but will be a home office, another reason for staying here has been eliminated.
Yes a time for reflection on life and the things that are important and also a bit of self assessment of who I am and who I want to be.
One final big change of late is colour. I used to be the lady in red, who only ever knitted in red. This year I find myself knitting and crafting all the colours of the rainbow and that is in part due to the man in Wales. I want colour and vibrancy in my world and the people in my world.
So tired of London
Yes
Tired of life
Definitely not
I now want to take life and squeeze it hard.
2020 life changed and I don’t want the old life back.
Hopefully I can get the life back that I want.
But London is not it. Maybe a visit now and again but not my life choice.
Sorry but this love affair is over and I am not heartbroken, I just need to work out how I can escape from this relationship
Not this year. Things have changed. Life has changed. And my feelings about the place I happily called home have changed.
It’s not my home.
I was 36 when I moved to London from Worcester. Came here in a van and car full of stuff and moved into the spare room of a bloke I had met online.
It was a very long Sunday and I started a job the following day. By the time I had finished my first day of work I knew the job wasn’t for me.
I went back on day 2 and we both sat down mid morning and agreed to terminate. Shit what now!!!
I wasn’t out of work long thanks to the internet and lots of phone calls.
Two years later that job ended and I changed careers and found my niche.
I had mood issues but found out they were due to an underlying illness yet work continued because I was good.
I tried dating and had a lot of disasters until a borrowed man found me and we filled a gap in each other’s lives for over 10 years. Being a part time love suited me.
I began crafting and formed a network of friends which expanded into other areas. I volunteered for a charity and my friends list on social media grew.
I learnt to drive and went to festivals and loved the freedom and the sounds and made more friends. I had two crashes in London and stopped driving as quickly as I started with my confidence knocked. I want to drive again but not in London, the roads are full of nutters.
I was still emotional at times which came out in public when alcohol was involved.
I enjoyed a full cultural London life and life was good ish with weekends full of galleries, pubs, markets, shopping, private members bars that work was a rest from it all. I worked hard and played hard.
Me and the man drifted but it was to be expected.
Work was up and down but it gave me a good life which meant I could enjoy London.
Health wise I lost loads of weight then got diagnosed with issues that were manageable that meant I gained some back.
I continued working on various projects until I was rushed into hospital this time last year during my last assignment for the scariest 48 hours of my life wired up to machines. I evaluated life and took time out for me.
Then I fell in love under a clock and things that had seemed important like earning money just weren’t.
He was not my usual type, he was tall, skinny, with long dreads and the strongest arms that give the best cuddles. Weirdly he lived 500 metres from a night club in the middle of wales that I spent my misspent youth in, so not local. By rights we shouldn’t have matched on the dating site but we did. We had great times including the best Christmas and new Year ever. And we were doing okay with weekends together watching films, making films and going for long walks and doing house renovations. We talked late into the nights as we put the world to rights. We were more than okay and I began to see a future.
Then corona happened. We packed up a car with my stuff and I left my home, thinking it would only be a few weeks. Nothing mattered so long as we were together. We had a great time and found myself in a full blown relationship living with someone which freaked me a bit. The news was full of doom and lockdown went on longer and longer and I had a meltdown being so far from home. My meds were running out and my body was changing. Positive and negative pregnancy tests were done which drove me nuts, my body was changing and I didn’t know why. I missed my space and the things I took for granted and thought I needed to be home and we ended up rowing over silly things, until we both snapped so I packed up my stuff and left. Heartbroken.
I walked in the house and wanted to turn around and leave. This was not home, well not my home.
I spoke to my doc and went through med stuff inc preggo tests and the blood tests confirmed no baby but officially in menopause. No babies for me then. I suddenly found myself in mourning. Mourning for the positive tests I had wanted to hold, and mourning for all those periods I didn’t care about now I had found a man who would be a good papa and feeling the loss of a man who thought I was being a bitch which I was in all fairness.
So I am in London and I watch the news and get scared. The life I came here for and enjoyed has gone. And it’s okay.
I haven’t seen many people, just two people one of whom is a neighbour and the other part of my choir. Only a couple of others have made contact even though a few know I am back in town and I have realised this is not home and friends are merely acquaintances and not really part of my day to day existence and definitely not a reason to stay here.
I have maintained social distancing for when I see my love again, if he forgives my leaving, so he can feel safe and not compromised.
I look at the looming towers outside my window and long to see hills. I don’t want the dirty river Thames but the clean Severn that has been part of my life for far longer.
Since covid I have struggled to find work and despite continually contacting agencies and applying for jobs work is eluding me.
It gets me down and I have no one to share that lowness with. I am trying. I know the future I want and it is not here, it is not in London. It might not even be in Wales even though the person currently is.
I have survived the lowness though.
Due to how the world has changed work no longer needs to be in an office in London but will be a home office, another reason for staying here has been eliminated.
Yes a time for reflection on life and the things that are important and also a bit of self assessment of who I am and who I want to be.
One final big change of late is colour. I used to be the lady in red, who only ever knitted in red. This year I find myself knitting and crafting all the colours of the rainbow and that is in part due to the man in Wales. I want colour and vibrancy in my world and the people in my world.
So tired of London
Yes
Tired of life
Definitely not
I now want to take life and squeeze it hard.
2020 life changed and I don’t want the old life back.
Hopefully I can get the life back that I want.
But London is not it. Maybe a visit now and again but not my life choice.
Sorry but this love affair is over and I am not heartbroken, I just need to work out how I can escape from this relationship
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