Separated, Wanting to Fall in Love Again?
This letter shares a single dad's journey of finding love after separation, exploring new relationships, and navigating the challenges of co-parenting while dreaming of a future family.
A Single Dad's Dilemma: Finding Love Amidst Separation and Co-Parenting
I'm a little hesitant to share my story. I can't quite picture how it will end, and I don't want to jeopardize it by talking about it. It's also not easy for me to discuss deeply personal matters. However, I think it might offer some reflections that resonate closely with us single parents. And since I truly enjoy listening to others' stories—especially for new insights and ideas—I believe it's worth sharing. I've been separated for almost three years. Naturally, I've appreciated the advantages of being single: regaining personal free time. The children are with me half the time. But I don't enjoy being alone, so after separating from the mother of my children, I had several relationships. Fond memories prevail from all of them, and each enriched me; but they ended when I realized they weren't what I truly wanted. It's fair to say each relationship helped me move past the previous one. Initially, I sought out women without children, keeping them completely separate from my kids' lives. But I disliked having two separate lives; more importantly, I didn't see a future in it. My dream, in fact, is to have a reunited family. One day, I unexpectedly ran into a woman I had met many years before, through work. Back then, we were both involved with the partners we would eventually have children with; so, our connection was purely platonic. We grabbed a coffee and briefly caught up on what had happened over the years. It was surprising to discover how much we had in common. She also has two children and is separated, though more recently. It was a brief but hopeful encounter. Perhaps it's because we are both positive people who prefer to look forward rather than dwell on the past. Furthermore, being in the same situation naturally creates a certain camaraderie. Anyway, if I found her attractive back then—and I'm not quite sure why—her charm was even greater now. We exchanged numbers, promising to see each other again. If you ask a hundred people what love means, you'll undoubtedly get a hundred different answers. All I know is that something strong and overwhelming quickly developed between us—something that can only be described as such. If we had half an hour, we’d meet for coffee. If we had two hours, we’d find a way to spend it together. On weekends when we were free, we wonderfully took care of each other. We all need affection, attention, and love, even if we don't always admit it. Sleeping with her and waking up next to her, after so long, felt as natural as it was unexpected. I hadn't remembered feeling so happy with a woman, and when I looked into her eyes and saw them shine, I had no doubt she felt the same. Those were unforgettable moments. After about a month, during a weekend when we both had the children, we decided to try involving them. Perhaps it was a bit premature, driven by our eagerness to be together. We certainly had to act like friends around the kids. The children got along wonderfully right away, as if they had known each other forever. They are, in fact, four truly delightful children. Everything seemed so idyllic! But it all happened too fast. You realize later that it was a mistake: but when you're that swept up, how can you hold back? The relationship was short-lived: only two months, or slightly more. Afterwards, we had to face reality. She had much less time than I did, only weekends, as the children stay with her during the week. For those two months, she dedicated the little time she had entirely to us, neglecting her home, commitments, friends, and family. Seeing each other during the week at her place wasn't easy, as we live half an hour apart. The biggest issue, however, was her ex-partner. He's one of those who didn't accept the separation and does everything to make life difficult, constantly disrespecting agreements and interfering with resentful messages and calls, not to mention his terrible attitude towards the children. Perhaps he sensed something, as he became increasingly overbearing. Eventually, she gave in; suddenly, out of the blue: "I can't do this, I don't feel up to handling such a demanding relationship, I'm not ready." When such significant emotional and physical affection suddenly disappears, this is what happens: withdrawal. We both suffered, each in our own way: your body makes it clear. Although we remained in contact, as time passed, we naturally drifted apart. We both dove into easy relationships: the kind, you understand, without a future. It feels so awful to be alone again. But our children missed each other. So, after a few months, we decided to organize a trip with them. It was a beautiful day, truly unforgettable. For them, and for us too. It was clear how much we missed being together. But it was equally clear that the conditions weren't right. So, why go back to feeling miserable? But this thought didn't stop us. We slowly started seeing each other again. Not like before, of course, when it was an all-consuming situation. But when you feel so good together, how can you give that up? On the other hand, how can you be intimate only once or twice a month? In situations like these, I believe you always have to make an effort, using a bit of creativity and imagination. You have to do something slightly unconventional if you want to eventually reach "normalcy." You can't expect things to resolve magically on their own. I thought about it a lot. Finally, I proposed to her, through a letter. It was meant to be a surprise. But through a strange twist of fate, she ended up reading it first. Anyway, the proposal, essentially, was this: "We feel good together, that seems evident. When we're with the kids and when we're alone. The conditions aren't right for commitment now, we know that. But that doesn't mean they won't be in the future, even if we're talking years. I don't know what's more important: the present, feeling good now, or the future, realizing a dream, a very ambitious project: living together someday. Both are important. But can there be a future without a present? It doesn't make much sense! Shall we try to believe in it anyway?" I didn't want to tie her down by promising a future that, I'm the first to admit, will be very difficult to realize. But on the other hand, if you believe in it, if you have strong mutual trust, then you can do anything. Now, I honestly can't say how it will turn out. I've met many different women since I separated, but for me, none are like her. I've never felt what I feel for her. With no one else have I felt so good in the present while simultaneously dreaming of a future. It's been over six months since we met, and with everything that has happened, I see things more objectively. But I know it's her, and only her, the woman I want to live with. Along with her children and mine, when they are with us. The difficulties don't weigh on me; or rather, they don't scare me: I see them as a challenge, and I'm ready to face them. I don't want to force her into a choice too soon, but on the other hand, I have my own needs. The obstacles are significant because we both have strong ties. We'll see if there's a willingness to meet each other halfway. The idea is to keep creating opportunities to see each other with the kids, when we have them, as well as continuing to see each other when we don't. The hope is also to one day be able to act transparently even towards the children: which, in practical terms, could mean, for example, a sleepover party where they go to bed together, and we do the same! But it's still very early for that, of course. In short, the road is long and uphill. In the meantime, let's cherish the good moments of the present, gritting our teeth a bit. And then let's look to the future as an ambitious project to realize together: I'm convinced we can do it. But if it doesn't go as we hope, it will still have been a wonderful experience: at least we tried! Anonymous email Image: new couple after separation
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As a community for single parents, GenGle is a space to share experiences and find support. Read letters from our community members navigating the complexities of dating, relationships, and family life after separation.