If there’s one thing, I’ve noticed since my marriage ended and that’s how difficult it is to move someone out truly. The past 18 months have contained fits and starts in my efforts to get my ex-husband out of what is now my home.
When my ex-husband lived here, he never really participated in the design, layout or creation of home space. There was one period, shortly before the arrival of our third child when he considered himself a bit of a DIY expert and insisted on drilling a thousand holes in the walls and putting up a load of shelves… many of which are still up now. Other than that, I was responsible for the décor of the house, the making of the home. And it was never a job I relished.
The day he moved out, I relished the opportunity to physically remove him from the space and happily sat back, thinking my job was done. However, it soon became evident that much more than physically removing him would have to be done. I started with the bedrooms. I decorated my bedroom and moved the girls into it. I then painted the box room for myself. I was giving myself a new, clean environment to sleep in worked wonders.
That was it for a while, but when lockdown began, and I started spending much more time at home than was normal for me, I realised there was still too much of him left in my house. Even after clearing his stuff from the sheds, psychically, everything needed a slight shift.
Over the next few months, I intend to continue clearing the baggage from the marriage. Physical changes that will lead to the complete removal of all residual energies and negativity that remains from the union. With this complete, I may feel more content to stay here.
Originally published at https://theproletarianspeaks.blogspot.com on June 16, 2020.
