One of the things I miss most about having become a single mummy is the huge and sometimes overpowering absence of male energy in my life and yes given my sense of humor so far, you would expect the following to lead into a rant about the 50 shades of no action happening in my life, BUT in fact I shall save that little conversation for another day.
When little Jesse Red was born in 2005, not only did I, a rather tomboy girl, transition from the all important role of strong, loving, supportive, passionate best friend, partner in crime and incredibly wholesome little dynamic duo, into the wonderful world of motherhood, babies, women, mothers, females, breasts, sisterhood, mothers-groups and navigating my way through more hormones than a chicken factory, but I also entered into a whole new dimension and one that I quite frankly did NOT sign up for, the dimension, that when you walk through its door, hangs a rather large sign and holds a permanent guest list, that reads extremely loudly and ever so clearly, ‘Ladies only!”
So then factor in loosing your hilarious, mischievous, silly, stubborn, logical, capable, technical, reactive, methodical, silly, passionate, ridiculous, black and white, naughty, gentle, studious, did I say silly once or twice already, curious, strong, practical, protector, mentor, snuggler, motorbike loving, listener, film bof, book reading, stubborn, creative, hotheaded, warm, hairy and EVER SO gorgeous man, who not only balanced out everything in my female world, but was also, my more than wonderful annual pass, back into the fabulous world of men AND women. Don’t get me wrong, what you are left with is a very rich, diverse, and wonderful world, but one to me, that constantly feels as though its palette is missing half of the vibrant colors needed to paint MY canvas bright.
Incidentally I should also mention at this point, that whether you like it or not, also having inherited the title of ‘widow’ and quite clearly NOT having adorned myself from head to toe in black, has you feel even less likely to strike up a chat with prospective ‘male’ friends, for fear of being either misread or worst still, find yourself leaving the playground, as nothing other than being labeled the ‘husband stalker.’ ( Kind of joking here but with a hint of a truth.)
So I dedicate this post to you MEN, to you Andy and to the intention of having an abundance of male energy, friendship, humor and the crazy world that is MAN, back in my life!










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