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I refuse to be the stereotypical fierce single mum. Her senility does it easier. She has middle-aged spread and a lived-in front and he will probably end up helping for her in a few years

Perhaps I should find it harder knowing that my husband would prefer to be with a woman more than 10 years younger than me. A maid who is not far off her 60 th birthday. A woman still reaching for the henna mane stains despite her advancing years.

She is old enough to be two daughters' grandmother, never mind potential stepmother. How contemptuous, right? And what an cruelty! I'm younger, a toned immensity 10 and I look after my form. The shame should be devastating.

But, perhaps amazingly, it prepares thoughts a whole lot easier.

There is absolutely nothing for me to be jealous about. No stereotypical younger maid with a pre-baby mas and not a grey-haired mane in sight. My husband's mistress has middle-aged spread and a lived-in front. When acquaintances first recognized them together, they reassured me that he must be is the truth where reference is said nothing was happening between them. There was no way they could be romantically together as she was ” so old “. How incorrect we all were.

He still disavows an occasion even now, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, claiming they formed a relationship after we had split up. But the signs of an liaison were there long before the repelling thought and then, eventually, the confirmation.

I can pretty much pinpoint where reference is started. From being my husband's everything, it was as if a button had flicked off overnight. Cold and remote, he took up golf and receded for hours at a time. His telephone was permanently secured in his hand, and he had a duty to manufacture private” run calls” at weekends and when we were on category journeys. All tendernes was retire and his hair-trigger spirit became apocalyptic as he clearly resented every second he spent in my company.

With hindsight, it doesn't take a psychologist to work it out. He detected caught in our wedlock: we had two preschool-age daughters and he demanded his cheerful life back. His mistress's children are been growing, so she and he are free of responsibility or restrictions. A festivity touring around south-east Asia? No difficulty. A music festival in New Orleans? Let's book it. Midlife crisis complete- he has even started dressing like he did 25 years ago.

I don't accuse his mistress one chip. She must have thought it was her luck period when a handsome, younger subject established their rights and interests. Perhaps she pondered she was destined for a life alone, or to be stuck with subjects of her own contemporary- with prostate problems and a cosy pair of slippers.

If it hadn't been her, it would have been someone else. It is not as if he fulfilled the ardour of his life and had to be true to himself. She was just an flee road out of their own lives he viewed as banal and humdrum until he didn't have it any more and realised the grass isn't always greener. Of track, life with two small children is hard- throw in a long daily travel and it is downright hard. But you deal with it and know that, for a short period of time, you might have to come a little bit further down the priority list. Instead of which, he shed it all away for a woman he is very likely to end up attending for in a few years.

There were weeks of him sobbing and pleading to come back, announcing it the biggest mistake of his life but, by then, I had begun to experience how life could be, should be- recreation, light-hearted and not living in panic of someone else's humor changes. The mas of catastrophe had left the building and I was not going to let it back in.

Now things have calmed down and we are a few years down the line, I am glad he is with an elderly dame. He and I aren't right together, and my daughters seem to like her. Because she is a mum herself, I trust her with my children and am happy there is someone else glancing out for them when they see their daddy. Better they are staying in her beautiful home than a depressing bedsit.

Granted, this wasn't the life I had thoughts. The Richard Curtis life of glad ever after with a mum and a papa in a ramble residence hosting large-scale parties filled with children running in and out. We had talked about moving out to the countryside the working day- dreamings that were all whipped apart pretty much overnight, leaving a void of confusion. But one thing I know is how discontented girl children and I would be if their papa and I still shared a home.

Yes, thoughts such as parents' nights, boasts dates and clas proves can be hard when you are surrounded by other parents with their development partners. Or when one of the girls has done something especially entertaining or cunning and you long to be able to exchange that glad examination with someone who loves them just as much as you.

But the reality is, even if we were still together, those situations would not happen like that. He would be grimacing and surly at parents' night, or he would refuse to talk or offset eye contact with me at boasts day. It would not have been the “normal” interaction I read with other couples. And, anyway, the older I get, the more I realise that quite often the fortunate facade numerous duets present is very different from current realities when the breast opening is closed.

I refuse to be the stereotypical bitternes single mum: I am health professionals fortysomething mother with a really busy, joy-filled life who just happens to be parenting alone. I don't sit around swigging chardonnay and slagging off workers. I desire workers- I have three brothers and lots of male sidekicks. One bad wedlock doesn't mean it's play over. Perhaps amazingly, I don't repent my selection of partner. We were deep in love formerly and shared many special days. We likewise procreated two perfect little beings. One period, I hope that I will find love again, but perhaps this time I will choose someone who has put their midlife crisis far behind them.

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