Right now, Peter is away with friends he's known for over 10 years, I can think of only a couple of people in my life that I've known for that long, who I'm not related to.
Truth is, before Peter, I was a drifter. I left home young because of my father's alcoholism and moved around from living with friends, to living with grandparents to moving abroad.
I fell pregnant unexpectedly in my mid-twenties when my circle of friends were still clubbing every weekend and they faded, quite quickly, into the past.
Peter sticks with what he knows and who he knows. He doesn't organise anything but always says yes to invitations, because he hates missing out. He has traits of ADD, which means that, as much as he dislikes change, he also gets restless and impulsive and goes along with any old opportunity. He'll drop us like hot potatoes too before missing out on a social occasion; he gathers big experiences in his bucket like he's ticking off a life checklist or something. I'm not sure he really enjoys himself at times... although, ironically, he can remember places he's visited more clearly than he can remember the births of his two children.
I'm more cautious, selective and responsible. Becoming a mother forced me out of a job where I had lots of social connections. I wasn't treated well during pregnancy and missed out on career developments and opportunities on my return to work. I lost my connections and have to try really hard to keep some people from that old life around me. Having children is a huge physical and emotional change on so many levels for women. Peter has been consistent, stable and reliable and many colleagues have become part of his social circle over the years and remain so, a circle that he says yes to a lot. I fell into a more isolated kind of work, from home mostly, with flexibility to allow me to be there for our children who have both had extra worries and needs over the years. Peter's life hasn't really changed.
His stability attracted me to fit his mould, his life, to immerse myself into his hometown. But he kept his social life for himself; he wasn't in the smaller couple group, but the male-only group and unfortunately, that is how it's stayed. I've never even met one of the men in his long-time social group, who he sees regularly- he's known him for 15 years. Many of these men, he met in primary school; I can't say I know any of them well at all.
Baby groups created social opportunities for me and I built friendships, but the covid pandemic cut off many ties and then it was time for my youngest child to start school, so naturally, mutuality with these friends disappeared. I find myself peering around the playground these days, in search of new connections and friendships, starting all over again.
Peter never has to start again.
He's worked the same job for 20 years and his friendships are rooted there, he's lived in the same town for 40 years and his roots are deeply entwined. I imagine, if I moved back to my home town how easy it might be for me to suggest a coffee with an old school friend when our kids play together at the park, or after zumba at the local community centre. I don't have that here- I'm always starting afresh. Peter never is.
In some ways, I hold Peter responsible. Feeling that he should have helped me, introduced me, invited me along, organised gatherings, but he never did. He just always said yes to anything he was invited to and I've been kept at home, like a pet. " Go out!" He said "I'll never stop you!" How false that is when opportunities aren't nurtured.
My mum thinks he's possessive of me and has kept me away from his friends incase I like them more- he does have low self esteem and he himself has played the role of the deceitful friend in the past. Part of me agrees with mum's perception. I've been prone to put-downs by him when other men have been around us... him trying to be funny, him putting me back in my kennel.
Pregnancy, part-time working, the covid pandemic and mothering has made me vulnerable socially and cut me off at times when I've needed people most. Peter's neglect and self-centred preoccupation with his special interests and friendships has contributed massively to my isolation. It suits him. He's not interested in mutual interests either.
I wish I had some girlfriends that I could go away with, play sports with, meet up with, but instead I focus on a scattering of friends that have stayed with me from a few different corners and chapters of my life. Peter's chapter rarely changes; he could have included me, he could have enriched my life with his people, but he hasn't, he's isolated me instead.
I write about my frustration in parenting forums when he's on yet another golfing holiday or "working" break and I'm told to take the time for myself, go away with my friends! But, the truth is, I don't have many to go away with. I don't have many that I could say yes to. When we raise families with these men, we have to do twice the work, because of their irresponsibility, their carelessness and lack of awarenss and it isolates us.
I have spent another long day with the children, feeling resentful, tired, touched out, lonely. I crave what Peter has. Easy, stable and consistent friendships that last forever, but like the seasons, my life has to change and adapt as the children grow and move to new settings. My job never stays the same, the people I work with changes, develops, grows, I move from place to place if I'm not working from home. I think it's my super power really... the ability to change and adapt, drifting to where I'm needed. But, without Peter's desire to share his roots with me, I drift away from him too, seeking solace from other places, my scene is ever changing; people come and go.
Does Peter not realise that eventually, without any roots to keep me here, I'll have to go too? Or atleast, I hope I will...
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