The Hidden Beliefs of a Man Like Peter

I think I lived with Peter long enough to realise that, not only was he not the man I met, but the man I lived with completely contradicted the man he presented himself to be. He was infact the total opposite of who I thought he was in the beginning. It's not difficult to understand why his friends and work colleagues likely paint me out to be the villain in our separation.

Beliefs can be extremely limiting when they are never challenged or when they fail to adapt to new situations, new people. A lacking theory of mind can mean that toxic, limiting beliefs become ingrained, although during periods of social masking, it would appear that men like Peter can be agreeable in a bid to be liked. I struggle to see that men like Peter have a "disorder" that can be switched on and off to suit himself. His reputation is everything to him. Sometimes, I worry how he might react if he ever fell upon this blog, because he does not cope well with being outed. It is a concern of mine.

I think I have picked up on many of the true beliefs which form the basis of who Peter really is on the inside. These beliefs have not been communicated, but have rather played out infront of me, his beliefs have happened to me a lot more than were verbalised. Peter could easily deny this entire list and I'm very sure that he would do. I'm not even sure that his self awareness is capable of acknowledging what is really at his core. He wants to be SEEN as right and good. But does he want to BE good? Does he separate the two?

These are the beliefs which I experienced, or were implied by Peter. Most of them, completely unsaid:

-Only slim women are beautiful. 

-Stretch marks and saggy skin after pregnancy is unattractive.

-My free time is more important than her free time.

-She gets loads of free time because she only works part-time.

-Her job is much easier than mine.

-I shouldn't have to share my money with her because she only works part-time.

-She doesn't earn enough money.

-Her parents don't even make much effort with her, so why should I make an effort if they don't?

-Her mother doesn't do enough for my children. She should do more so I get more free time when she visits.

-Her trying to keep the children safe and healthy ruins everything.

-I'd prefer to be out with my mates than with my family.

-Her work isn't as important as mine.

-She needs to remember when important meetings occur at my work and plan for them, whilst her meetings are not important, she can probably just not go to her meetings. Afterall, she's part-time!

-She spends money unnecessarily on healthy food. 

-I cook and clean just as much, if not more than she does- she makes me do it.

-It's her choice to spend her free time cooking and cleaning, she doesn't get to choose for me to spend my free time doing the same!

-Sometimes, she pretends she's ill on purpose so that I can't go out and enjoy myself.

-She overreacts when the children are poorly. If she just let them get better on their own, they'd be fine.

- she is intolerant of my mother who just can't help the way she is.

-she doesn't like anybody so she is the problem.

-She just needs to choose to be happier.

- When she wants sex it makes me not want sex.

-I like watching other people have sex on TV more than having sex myself.

-I'm too lazy to have sex.

-I don't like planning anything with her because it might deviate from me doing what I want to do so it's better not to commit or communicate.

-When she shouts at me, she's being unreasonable, I don't like her anymore when she's angry with me.

-she's so needy.

- She should do more to help me with the children.

-She has too many opinions.

-She's a feminist who hates men.

-She's cruel to men.

-She complains too much.

-She just wants to change me and have everything all her own way.

-She's controlling.

- I don't want to rely on her, I prefer to rely on my Dad.

-I didn't want to marry her because she's nasty to me.

-If I marry her, one day she'll take all my parents money which they have worked hard for and belongs to me.

-She is the problem.

-She has convinced professionals that I have ASD when I do not.

-I hate her for telling people we know about our lives.

-She just needs to stop complaining and put up with stuff better.

- I don't want to make an effort with my appearance or my behaviour because she's trying to control me. 

-When she wants to have a conversation what she really means is that she wants an argument.

-My mates wives are much nicer than she is.

-My mates have more money than me because their wives accept that they shouldn't have to share their money. 

-My mates wives don't ask as much of my mates as she asks of me.

-She tries to stop me doing things with my mates because she's jealous.

-She thinks that she does much more for the home and children than she actually does. 

- She should speak nicely and politely to me all the time.

-She just needs to get some hobbies.

-I pity her (was once communicated).

-I'd have more money if it wasn't for her.

-Spending time with the children together is quality time, she doesn't need any more time with me. 

-I don't like that she's accused my sister of trolling her online so she must be lying.

-She tells lies because she wants to be mean and for me to turn against my own family. 

-She is being awkward when she won't look after the children on my set days with them.

-She can't expect me to look after the children on her set days because set days were her idea. 

-She doesn't care how important motorsports is to me. 

-She is selfish by not caring for the children on her own more so that I can do my hobbies. 

-She needs me more than I need her.

-My main hobby is much more of a priority than anything she might like to do because I've done it all my life with my Dad. 

-She's unreasonable to expect me to prioritise special occasions over my hobby.

-She's a selfish brat.

-If she chooses to spend money on Christmas presents for the children then that's up to her, nothing to do with me. 

-If she chooses to arrange playdates for the children, that's up to her, I don't see why it should affect me.

-If she chooses for us to socialise with other families, that's her decision not mine, so nothing to do with me. 

-Her friends aren't as important as mine.

-My friends are better than hers.

-If people are poor, it's their fault. Why should anyone else have to provide for them?

- It's not fair if her and the children eat treats without me. I need to to ensure that I eat as many treats as they do.

-I shower every day so if I smell, that's not my problem. There's nothing more I can do about it.

-Clothes, haircuts and toiletries are a waste of money.

- I need to correct her stories because she tells them wrong.

-I have to make her look small so people don't like her more than me.

-She can't be happier than I am.

-She doesn't deserve to be too happy.

Living Plan B

When I discovered that I was pregnant with Peter's child just months into dating, I didn't get the opportunity to give Plan B much thought. Plan A already felt like a massive upheaval so working out how to untangle our newly wound up lives together was an unthinkable task.

Pregnancy was a shock to the system, but realising that Peter would be in my life for the rest of my life was difficult to get my head around. I remember just telling myself over and over "this has to work." I had nothing else to fall back on: no supportive family circle; I didn't own my own house; my better friends were scattered about all over the country and although I had a stable career, my earnings were at the lower end of the threshold. I didn't even allow myself to consider alternative outcomes, because it felt that there was only one suitable option: to move in with and set up family life with Peter as he'd offered to me.

It was only when I began counselling after the birth of our first child that the alternatives were discussed. I remember feeling mortified at a mental health nurse for suggesting that Peter was not treating me well. I was livid. He had saved me, hadn't he? With his stable home, good salary, consistent career, his involved, caring family and his solid circle of unfriendly male friends who all seemed to like him. Peter had saved me from a lifetime of struggling to pay the rent alone, from single mother-hood, from my unreliable family and alcohol guzzling good time friends. 

I wasn't ready to face up to the truth back then, but as I saw other mental health professionals following my post-natal depression, it became all too clear to me that I'd moved from one group of toxic family members, to another. Years later, a counsellor spoke to me about creating a "fuck off fund." 

"All women need one" she explained. "So that they can get out should they need to, without worrying too much about money. You take money where you can. A bit of cashback at the supermarket, pocketing the change as much as possible." I hadn't ever considered a fuck off fund before and I had no savings either. I just thought that Peter would look after me forever. Did I need a plan B?

The fuck-off-fund never really materialised, but my anger around the true disappointments of living a life and raising a family with Peter arose more and more, until eventually, I furiously ended this farce of a relationship and told him to leave a year ago.  

Still, a large, naive piece of me hangs on to the hope that Peter will see the error of his ways, his parents' ways, his sister's ways, that he'll associate himself with less chauvinists and reappear as the man I'd envisioned him as when our pregnancy journey first began. I still can't quite let go of the notion of "this HAS to work." I guess it's part of the reason that we continue our family day trips and the reason I haven't pushed for the sale of the family home which will ultimately give me more freedom and autonomy from Peter. But, I also hold on to a family unit in a bid to protect the children from his emotional neglect, from his lack of danger awareness, from his family and because I want to keep my young children close. It's an unconventional set up that we have, but being away from my children 50% of the week was never in my plan and I never want it to be. 

I find myself asking, how bad does it need to get for me to finally call it a day once and for all? Is a perpetual joyless, spirit sucking low level misery not enough? Am I awaiting his infidelity? Worse? Even after endless years of therapy, it seems I still battle low self esteem. I worry how hard I'd push for family life to continue, despite him recklessly ripping it apart. I often think to myself that if things with Peter were really bad, like if he was physically abusive, then the red flags would force this separation permanently. The problem is that his red flags are only ever at half mast at most. That shouldn't really be a problem though, should it?

If he died, I'd have no choice but to live out Plan B more consistently and with more certainty, so why am I still holding on to Plan A? Part of me still feels a little traumatised that Plan A has needed to come to an end at all, after all those years of telling myself that it HAD to work out. Would I eventually opt for a permanent Plan B if he beat me senseless or cheated? Or would I still be holding on to this illusion of a family life? It worries me sometimes what I might put up with to protect my children from a more fixed separation of two homes and two lives. How bad would it need to get for me to cut my losses indefinitely? 

Either way, this life is not the Plan A that we initally created together. I spend my evenings alone whilst the children are sleeping, worrying about intruders and fires and whether or not I'd wake up in time. This isn't the Peter who promised me forever, or promised forever to my dying grandfather on his death bed either. The words and actions rarely seem to align. I am living Plan B whether I like it or not. My bed is empty, he is absent from our children when they wake most mornings, i wouldn't have imagined he'd ever have been comfortable with that. I always have to cook AND wash up, it's me who orders AND puts the groceries away. I put the bins out, I pick up the dog poo, I check that all the doors and windows are locked. He's gone. 

Plan B means that he's not as reliable as I thought he was and that me and the children were not his priority afterall. It means paying for domestic help, like cleaners, gardeners and dog sitters; it means that all responsibility has been dumped on my shoulders in return for a burden-free life, supported outwardly by his parents. 

Even a year on, I haven't quite got my head around this. The outcome which I told myself that I must avoid at all costs is upon me. I guess they call it shock or maybe even PTSD. Whether I chose this plan or not, I'm doing it, living it and each day I come to terms with this life more and more. 

"Expect nothing so you won't be disappointed" my grandfather used to say to me and I'm learning to apply this to my new way of life. On the other hand, I'm also learning that some expectations are actually basic, fundamental needs, like love, respect and loyalty and these are expectations that no Plan A should ever have to compromise on. 

The Black Cloud

It's difficult to describe the black cloud which engulfs the time spent with these men. Peter is angry at me, but he can't express it in a productive way, also as his anger is born of his own fear, obligation and guilt towards his narcissistic mother, he is keeping quiet because he knows exactly what I'll have to say about it. She turned on our young daughter again last week, this time telling her "you'll be happier when I'm dead." This was followed by his father shouting at our daughter for standing up to her grandmother and rightly calling out the behaviour as "childish."

I made the decision when he left me, that when his mum decided to replace me (as her narcissistic target) with our children, I would call out the behaviour and stand up to her. And this is what I did. I messaged her and his father to say that this was no way to speak to a child and that I thought she should see a professional for her undiagnosed narcissism to try to limit any further damage to those she cares about. I know that this was blunt of me to say, but I wanted her to know that I know what she is. My message was unsurprisingly ignored by all. No doubt there was lots of advice from flying monkeys to "ignore" my "aggressive" message; I worry that some of this advice probably came from Peter himself, but I'll never know the truth. He does know about the message but has not discussed it with me, instead choosing to operate in an authoritative, cold manner towards me since.

Today, he joined us on a family trip which we take annually. I am still endeavouring to co-parent with Peter in a way which allows us to exist as a family unit from time to time. I believe this is good for the children and in some ways, it does benefit me at times too. Today however, I'm not sure there was a lot of benefit for anyone, because he brought his black cloud along with him. Clearly still seething with me, he spent the day determined to be aloof. 

He of course, had to drive the car, asking for directions from my phone's navigation as and when it suited him, told me to move my phone to different locations around the dashboard, none of them being quite right for him. Then he demanded I turn the navigation off right away because he said he no longer needed it, as if it was about to implode if I didn't switch it off immediately. It all reeked of a need to control, just in the way he spoke to me, if nothing else.

After this, he had an issue with me leaving the dog in the car whilst we ate, so I took the dog out of the car and brought her in to the restaurant with us when there was an issue with me putting her harness on the back of a chair. "Unhygienic" he said  and he stomped off back to the car put it inside.

And when the meals came, I noticed I was missing something off my plate and asked him if he could see the plate of the person sitting behind me on the next table who had ordered the same meal to tell me what was missing so that I could tell the waitress. 

A very sharp response of "No. I am not staring rudely at other peoples meals. You're being ridiculous." 

Ok. 

Then, as we were leaving the restaurant, he of course had to tell me how disappointing his meal was, knowing that the restaurant is a favourite of mine.

This was followed by a journey home in the car and him giving me an abrupt ultimatum that he would drive past the junction for our home if I didn't tell him in 10 seconds which supermarket he should stop at to allow our daughter to use the toilet. 

I'd also borrowed his phone to take photographs during the day's main activity as my phone battery had died suddenly, which led to one hundred repeats of "have you still got my phone?"

No laughter, no smiles, no fun- from him anyway. Just a list of serious, practical requests and adjustments throughout the day. 

"Put the wellingtons in carrier bags..."

"Wipe the dog's paws again..."

"How much have you spent?"

"Can you navigate again?"

"Can you stop navigating now?"

"But I'm not speeding." (After several requests to watch his speed.)

"Which supermarket?"

Despite his protests of:

"No that supermarket is too far away."

"But you need to tell me in the next 10 seconds."

Why bother asking me if you don't want to go there?

A day of endless mundanaeity, suppression and control from Peter in a way that is difficult to describe, but nevertheless, leaves me feeling....flat. 

Jekyll and Hyde

Peter has many traits of ASD and ADHD:

-Black and white thinking.

-Struggles to empathise when the point of view is opposite to his own.

-He has a very awkward gait.

-Bad posture

-Finds it difficult to plan or organise

- Collects things (even rubbish) and can not work out what to throw away or keep.

-He is in constant motion- there is always a part of his body tapping or rocking

- Talks impulsively and at speed

- He becomes obsessed with things and these interchangeable obsessions are all consuming for him

- He can never switch off which impacts his sleeping patterns

- He has severe alexythmia to a point he actually scalds himself in the shower and sleeps with the curtains open in summer.

- He has to be reminded to change and wash his clothes

- He sees little point in caring for his appearance- his hair always needs cutting

- Questionable hygiene

- Always on his own agenda and can not see or consider the needs of others

- Can not prioritise: he cooks a meal and then washes up before eating it

- Very low sex drive

-Highly pragmatic and practical, often can not see or consider emotion.

-Has very blank facial expressions and he rarely smiles, can not give eye contact during emotional discussions. If I ask for eye contact he stares through me

- Socially inappropriate: he tries to be funny but can come across as offensive

- Enmeshed with his family of origin

- Has habits or rituals which are difficult to break. E.g When putting the children to bed, he'd dress them in winter pyjamas in summer because he hadn't thought to change their clothes when the weather got warmer. Seems to operate on autopilot which I've read is a lack of executive functioning.

We've been to four relationship therapists now, neither of them for very long because he would never stick it out. But two have pointed out that Peter has neurodivergent traits. I have known in my heart, my mind and my bones for 9 years that Peter is neurodivergent.

However, I am bamboozled by him, because his executive functioning appears to kick in when he has a strong desire for something. He will manipulate me to get what he wants and will even resort to blackmail. Currently, we are separated and sharing the children on set days, however if an event (linked to his special interest) appears on a day he has the children he plays games to be able to go to the event. 

Firstly, he doesn't tell me about his wish for me to have the children on his day so that he can attend the event until a few days before, but he only ever reveals a small amount of information about what he wants from me. So he'll say "could you take the girls to their swimming lesson on Saturday so that I can go to this event?" As swimming is only an hour, I might say yes. Then Friday evening comes along and he will send me a message: "I'll drop them off at 8am tomorrow morning and see them on Sunday," when swimming isn't until 1pm. I'll say no, swimming is at 1pm, I have plans in the morning (often washing clothes cleaning the family home that I am now solely responsible for!) . I'll ask him what he thinks he's doing sending me this message and he will say "I told you about it." By giving only part of the information, he knew I'd say yes and now he has me trapped. "I bought my ticket for £50! I've arranged things with my Dad now! You always try to get between me and my hobby!"

See what he's doing? This scenario in some way, shape or form plays out on probably, a monthly basis. Last week, a similar scenario occurred around a work commitment he had. But again, he only revealed one element of what he required from me to support him, which meant that again, I had to change my plans at the last minute. Again, I was supposed to "know" how long this meeting would last and that it would overlap into the childrens' bedtimes.

Then, he ramps it up: I tell him that I have plans, no I will not take the children earlier than the time of their swimming lesson. He will argue about how I should "know" how long these events are I should "know" he'll be leaving early in the morning. None of this has been communicated to me and he appears to think that I am just as interested in the timings of his events as he is. He obviously would never not go to the event and lose his £50, so he then says "fine, there are tickets left, the children will have to come with me."

And just like that, he wins.

Because he knows that I care for the children's welfare much more than he does. He knows I don't want them going three hours away to a motorsports event in the freezing rain, and not returning home until after midnight, he knows that I'll have to face the repercussions of tired, ill children the following day. He knows I care more than he does about how they'll perform at school for the entire week afterwards. It's me who will have to comfort all the tears and meltdowns. So I have to agree. 

This confuses me, because the same tact is used time and time again with him and it feels manipulative, it is also blackmail. The flip side of this is that when I give him more notice and ask him to have the children on my set day with him, he reminds me "you said we needed to keep to set days." He plays the system to work for him every time and uses my own coherent, clear communication to ensure that he gets what he wants and I don't. It's manipulative.

On the outside, Peter is a kind, gentle, considerate man. He will always help people if they ask for it; he'll go above and beyond. He'll help me too. When I'm poorly, he'll come and walk my dog or make me a meal. But, then there is this manipulative side of him, which appears when there's something he wants and he doesn't care about anyone else provided he gets it. This is where Peter's neurodivergence confuses me: due to a lack of execution functioning, people with ASD struggle to be manipulative. But, Peter is able to flick the switch on as and when he needs to. He's also very good at board games and card games: poker, chess. Where you have to strategise and employ tact, this must require a huge degree of executive functioning? I can't help thinking that Peter's lack of communication in all areas of our relationship is much more than an accident, but a strategy. And here is me being clear and coherent with him, telling him my moves before I move my pieces, so he always wins. 

Covert narcissists have a Jekyll and Hyde persona, they put on a front to the outside world whilst emotionally draining the people who are closest to them. This is also my experience of Peter. He can be my most helpful allie, but he will turn on me at the threat of him not getting what he wants from me exactly when he wants it. It flaws me emotionally every time.

I find myself wondering, who is Peter? This clumsy, gentle, helpful, non-offensive, probably neurodivergent man who is able to manipulate, blackmail, strategise, control, reduce me to tears and leave me feeling so trapped? Beneath the soft exterior, I often sense a callous, resentful, selfish man who can not be trusted with my heart. And perhaps, I can not really trust him with anything at all. 

The Victorian-esque Parenting of an Emotionally Unavailable Man

English Victorians were a stoic bunch; they believed strongly in minding ones own business; they were serious, non-emotional and the upperclasses prided themselves on rationality. 

I see similar traits in Peter and his parents, in some ways. They will mind their own business to an extent by never sharing their own negative business, but I've always been certain that they revel in gossip. However, they will never gossip about their own children or their personal lives, treating them as an extension of themselves far, far into adulthood. 

I had to think long and hard about how to write this post, how to word it, how to get my point across. Firstly, I don't believe that any parents should interfere in their adult child's relationship unless there is danger or harm being incurred. Then, I find myself thinking, at the same time, that perhaps there are instances where an adult child's parent should have a word or two with their own child. To direct them onto the  path of giving and sharing in marriage and parenting.

Relationships and raising families don't come easily to our men, what is natural for most, needs instruction for others. Our men are so used to prioritising and pleasing themselves, thinking of another human's needs before their own is a foreign concept for them.

I discovered during my relationship with Peter, when I was on better terms with his sister, that conversations had taken place between his mother and sister about his inner selfishness. They were aware of it. But they never said anything TO him about it. I find myself wondering, if he'd had some direction, some "parenting" in the verb-sense, from his family about how priorities change when you have children, how you can't down tools when children are poorly and skulk off to tinker with car engines for the day. How sometimes, plans have to change. How WE have to change. Would our lives have been better? He looks up to his father, which is obvious to all and the one person who could have imparted a wise sentence or two which would undoubtedly have impacted on Peter and our lives for the better, is him. 

Instead, his father advises him on what to spend his money on, on the practicalities of caravanning. But he has never once shared wisdom on his role in raising a family. I see this as missed opportunity, missed change, missed impact which could have made all our lives better. Peter's father has always prioritised family above all; is there a reason he didn't nurture his son into doing the same? Am I being idealistic to imagine his father putting an arm around him and saying "you have a family now son...?" Or is this sort of openness just for the movies?

I remember Peter's father once telling me how unnerved he'd felt in a car with Peter once due to his fast driving. It was rare for his father to share anything with me, so this came as a surprise. "Did you not think to just ask him to slow down?" I said. The answer seemingly obvious to me. 

"No" he responded.

Peter currently lives with his parents and scoops up the best parts of two lives. 

1) Sitting in his adolescent bedroom pleasing himself. 

2) Dipping in and out of family life as we still have family holidays and do family days out together. He also still comes to the house to help with the children (but he obviously then gets to escape again!)

He is living rent free and his parents do not question or  disturb him.

His mother washes his clothes, cleans his sheets and changes his bed. When our children stay with him two nights a week, he has live-in childcare and they accept any request Peter makes of them with regards to practical help. 

He is evidently dipping in and out of two lives and his parents say nothing. Peter has openly told me how no conversations at all have been had about our separation, the future, his plans, nothing. They don't ask him a thing and just accept his double life and his avoidance of responsibility. I know that this is true. They avoid initiating any sort of emotional connection with him whilst continuing to carry out practical tasks at his request. Is this their silent permission to live as he does?

Although of course we have to allow our children to make their own mistakes as they grow and develop, I can't help feeling that there is a significant neglect issue in the imparting of wisdom, emotional connection and direction in their adult child's life. I think of all the wisdom handed down to me by my elders during pregnancy, not meddling, just basic wisdom, kindness, care and love. Yet, in Peter's world, practical interference equals care when emotional connection and nurturing is non-existent. Ironically, both his parents tried to tell me how to parent our first-born, primarily his mother, but they say nothing to Peter. He doesn't get angry, his mental health has always been good, so why not? Why won't they ever confront him or be honest with him about anything? Why do they fear upsetting him? Because he's male?

I see some autistic adolescents who are surrounded by love, connection, empathy from their parents and they show a motivation to grow, develop and mature. They're able to think of the future, create goals and work towards them, they show empathy. These are the parents who sought out a diagnosis for their struggling child in the first place and with the support and guidance as their brain is maturing, wonderful things can happen. 

Peter's father once told me that he'd always realised that Peter was a little different and joked that he'd often wondered if it was his fault for accidentally dropping a mirror on his head when he was young. He then swiftly changed the subject. Another missed opportunity. He knows that professionals have voiced openly that Peter has some sort of "disconnection possibly caused by neurodiversity" and he remains quiet. He knows that Peter has refused any sort of formal diagnosis. And he still remains quiet. He has not at any point, mentioned anything to Peter about his own views.

I spoke to his mother after our second-born came along about my need for more support from Peter, following my autoimmune diagnosis. "Peter's life has changed enough" she said. Why all the pandering? Was she frightened to take away his pleasures and his treats as a child? Was she inflicting her own parental guilt for returning to work when he was three months old onto our lives now? Was she making her mistakes my responsibility? "Peter needs his down time" was another response I got. What about my down time? Little did she realise that I'd been a svelte and sexy party-going, beer guzzling, disco loving career girl pre-Peter and now I had a part-time job, saggy skin, saggy boobs, 3 stone weight gain, a hormonal imbalance, zero social life, blocked milk ducts, shit pension and reduced career prospects. But Peter's life had changed enough because he had reduced his hobby time. His job was the same, he still lived in his home town. I'd moved into his life, his hometown and neglected my plans to live abroad again, but I didn't matter. I was nothing to her. Peter's life had changed enough. Why all the pandering? What was she making up for? Is there a reason why nobody seems to want to upset Peter? The only reasons I can think of for her chronic avoidance of even minorly upsetting her son are fear and guilt. I'll never know the backstory and they'll never know mine because they've never cared to ask. 

I know that they know he's different.

But like Victorian parents, they stay out of Peter's business and stand back, quietly, perhaps approvingly, as he lives his newly found bachelor lifestyle, never saying a word. Maybe they think he's beyond help, or maybe, they're just glad to have him home. 

Special needs? Yes, I have them too.

You can't be in a relationship with someone who has special needs, without you becoming part of a special needs relationship. There is no way around it. 

The problem is that because their needs are special, more important, more prone to meltdowns, outburts and shutdowns if they aren't met, our needs must be deprioritised in their world. When you are navigating the world together, you become deprioritised in your world too. Nobody is an island. Nobody is immune to the levels of neglect that are inflicted onto neurotypicals in these relationships. You can't not be affected, no matter how many spa days your take yourself on.

For many years, when the children were babies, his needs gave me anxiety; stretched me far beyond my comfort zone; took me to depths beyond my limitations of exhaustion; caused a desperate loneliness; made me invisible, unworthy. Unimportant. 

I have health needs, but they are always subordinate to his special hobby needs. Just yesterday, Peter had a quiet, passive aggressive tantrum. He yet again failed to communicate his request to swap our weekend days with our children this weekend because he has a special hobby event which he has known about for months. When he suddenly raised this with me, quite literally days before the event and I told him that this wasn't acceptable, that I had plans, he turned all responsibility onto me:

"You're happy for me to lose the £50 I paid for my ticket?"

"I've swapped with you before when you've asked me to." 

"You know how much this means to me. Why do you resent my hobby so much?"

"Communication is the issue," I said to Peter. 

"What plans do you have?!" 

I told him that I have plans to do housework and rest. But he doesn't value these plans. This is also a feminist problem- my work, my plans, my hobbies are never quite as special as his. "Rest on Sunday" he said "I'll have the children that day instead."

"We have plans with friends Peter."

After this conversation escalated to me shouting as he repeatedly protested "there is nothing wrong with my communication!" I walked away crying in pure frustration and upset at the loss of my own choices and freedoms, a pattern which occured regularly when we were together. He took away my choices. How is it happening now, when we're not even together anymore? 

I began deliberating whether to just not be at the house when he delivers the children to me on his day. But I know that my life would be made much more difficult. Despite the 6 weeks notice I always give him for a change of day, he would play games and make himself very unavailable to me in the future. He also threatened to take the children with him to his special hobby event if I'm not there to provide childcare for him as and when he says I should be able to, despite it being his day with the children. This would mean the children being dragged around a race track until midnight. He would do this, because his hobby is more special to him than their wellbeing. However, their wellbeing is more important to me than my own rest and grievances with him, and he knows this, so he has me morally trapped. 

His special needs trump everything and everyone and I have to lose out on rest, whilst the housework waits another week. I am tired of his selfish needs. 

Which still seem to prevail over everything and everyone, like a snatching, sleep thieving toddler who just doesn't know any better. 

But they do know better, don't they?

ASD in denial

Aside from the challenges of living with a man who has ASD, sometimes is their blind denial of even having it. 

It doesn't matter to Peter that I spend a considerable amount of my working life with children who have autism and that I'm trained to refer them for autism testing where I deem it appropriate. It doesn't matter to Peter that three therapists have now either directly said that they believe Peter has neurodivergent traits or implied it by referring to a "disconnect." The first therapist we ever met implied it by asking Peter if autism ran in his family. 

Peter is adamant that all of us are wrong. He is not autistic. However, when we get into the details of Peter's challenges, he will openly admit to feeling "different," to being hyper-focused on facts and details, to not needing the same level of intimacy that others need, to finding emotions "uncomfortable," to wanting to wear the same clothes everyday, he admits his  resistance to change... but Peter will not admit to autism. 

At some point, I think that he's developed the belief that an autism label is a negative thing. That autism is a flaw and one in which he can't possibly have. In the last 10 years, Peter's denial has been worse than the autism or ADHD that I believe he also has. I can point out to Peter that he ought to put the meals on the dining table before proceeding to wash up whilst his freshly made meals sit going cold on the kitchen worktop, but he accuses me of being intolerant to his "ways of doing things." He will not ever comprehend that often, things need to be done in a certain order; that meals should be eaten warm and that the washing up comes afterwards. He says I'm controlling. 

This has been the worst part for me, knowing that he genuinely believes that I am the problem. The verdicts of the professionals have never made him even consider changing his point of view. I believe that this is the real reason I had to separate from him. I would have accepted the adhd and the autism had he have explored it and been open to finding ways to navigate through life together in a better way. If Peter had sought some help and support, if he had prioritised our relationship. But he never did, instead he prioritised his fragile ego and focuses on preserving the view he has of himself as unflawed and completely functional. 

Nobody can work with that, let alone find a way to have a loving relationship.