After the separation: new relationship or better independent?

Navigating post-separation life involves facing the question of whether to jump into a new relationship or embrace independence. This article explores the challenges and rewards of finding your footing again, both for yourself and your children.

A Man Who Grows, A Mother Who Learns

<h3 class="Standard" style="text-align: left;" align="center"><img class="allinea-centro" src="https://www.gengle.it/posts/entries/images/dopolaseparazionenuovacoppia.jpeg" alt="" width="1125" height="750" /></h3> <h3 class="Standard" style="text-align: left;" align="center">A Man Who Grows, A Mother Who Learns</h3> This evening, the aroma of pumpkin risotto with a side of parental frustration filled our home. I can't stand it when my son prepares things at the last second and then comes to me, while I'm washing dishes, asking where his gym shoes or basketball shorts are. It makes me furious, I can assure you. Firstly, because I am the mother, not the laundry fairy, so when the clothes are washed and ironed, he finds them on his bed, not hidden away in some top-secret spot. If, for some reason, I haven't managed to do a load of laundry, there's surely a good reason, and I don't think it's appropriate to investigate, unless he's ready to face the consequences. Furthermore, we've known about his weekly sports commitments well in advance for a long time, and I don't understand the benefit of scrambling at the last minute to get everything ready. Unless it's a self-managed task, then I can't complain. It angers me even more when he says his things are at dad's house because, after all this time, having two homes is an assimilated reality and he can no longer use it as an excuse. When you're short, there's no use complaining. You just have to learn to jump higher. My son is growing up, he's practically a young man now, and I find it hard to deal with this kind of attitude. I know I'm different from the typical Italian mother who takes care of her <a class="wpilkeywordlink" href="https://meeters.org/it/categoria/genitori-con-figli" target="blank" rel="noopener nofollow" title="children" data-wpil-keyword-link="linked">children</a> well beyond the age of majority, especially when it comes to male children. He received quite a lecture on the meaning of independence. Not just about the fun of the 4th of July celebration, but also about the importance of taking care of himself here and now. And learning an attitude that could be really useful to him, in the world tomorrow. There's little to add: I was speaking aloud, looking into his big eyes that were barely holding back a mortification that was still too great. He's a very emotional and empathetic child, and this will be the <a class="wpilkeywordlink" href="https://basilicadisantacroce.com/" target="blank" rel="noopener nofollow" title="cross" data-wpil-keyword-link="linked" data-wpil-monitor-id="444">cross</a> and delight of his life. But at the same time, I was listening to myself and realizing that only now am I trying to get back on my feet and take care of my own things, not even in a very straightforward way. I could sit at the table and stop eating on the go like the Tuareg. I should sleep in my own bed, spread out like a starfish, without the fear of falling like a comet. Buy things for myself without feeling guilty about all the things that need to be done in a month. It's useless to preach well and practice poorly. Here I am, moralizing, but can I manage my own independence? Who among us, with such a significant and long relationship behind them, has managed to establish an autonomous life, truly uprooting the dynamics we lived until now? Or have we simply thrown ourselves back into a story very similar to the previous one? With difficult but tried-and-tested dynamics? But then, do we really want something different from what we had before? I know very few people who are truly comfortable in their own solitude and who manage to find an extremely fulfilling life rhythm, marked by small personal rituals and the affection of furry cats. Or by a vintage <a class="wpilkeywordlink" href="https://meeters.org/it/categoria/moto" target="blank" rel="noopener nofollow" title="motorcycle" data-wpil-keyword-link="linked">motorcycle</a> in the garage, always in need of repair. I don't think I have the desire in my heart for a life like that, even though I find myself on the sofa watching movies alone. I do it, I prefer this to a hollow relationship, but I don't draw the strength I'd like from my independence. It gratifies me to know I can manage my life and even manage to assemble the IKEA chandelier in my <a class="wpilkeywordlink" href="http://gengle.it" target="blank" rel="noopener" title="children" data-wpil-keyword-link="linked">children</a>'s room by myself, but as soon as I do, I take a photo and share it in a very trivial way. I love connecting with people I know and having conversations, each one different, that offer new stimuli. I love to love, in all its forms, and I try not to put myself second. Both with my children, with whom I want to share life rather than just take care of them, and with the person who will be by my side one day. It's like walking with someone for a part of the road. From now on, I'd like to be able to walk beside them. Not in front. Not behind. But together nonetheless.   <img class="allinea-centro" src="https://www.gengle.it/posts/entries/images/camminare.jpeg" alt="" width="928" height="650" />