Marriage, Mother-in-Laws & Mental Health!
1
Learning how to live with all three of these things has been an epic struggle in my chaotic little life – and in a sense, all three of these things both impact and complement each other. I’m aware that the title of this post doesn’t stray far from an interesting episode of The Jeremy Kyle Show, and I’ll be honest, there has been a few times in the past where my life has replicated such a Tuesday morning ITV car crash with only Graham and a lie detector being able to solve my problems (or big Steve to smash a few heads together).
I never really
SelfishMother.com
2
thought getting married would happen to me. Like every 5 year old girl I used to play weddings and dream of my Prince Charming but the older I got the more I thought that Walt Disney was playing a seriously sick joke on us and leading us in to a false sense of what grown-up life was really like.
Fast forward 10 years and 2 kids to different dads later… life had seemed to reiterate my view that marriage was for those rare, blessed, monogamous breeds that live in a world full of niceness and those really nice pale green front doors with handmade
SelfishMother.com
3
autumn wreaths on (come on…you all know the type).
When I looked at the people around me it often lead me to ask myself if a happy marriage actually existed. My parents divorced before my little brother had barely left the womb and everyone else that were once happily married or even just together were either divorced, dead or a member of the Bitter Betty Brigade. Is this how I wanted to end up?! Ironically the events of both my childhood and adulthood gradually turned me in to Bitter Betty’s ugly sister… Cynical Sally – suspicious of everyone
SelfishMother.com
4
and their hidden agendas whilst regularly spooning the cat, playing ‘All By Myself’ on repeat and weeping in to my takeaway for one. Looking back through the years it is pretty clear that all I actually longed for was a ‘Prince Charming’. Someone to put me first, stand up to the complex personalities that inhabited my life, someone that fills the house with pure love, and that is there for not just the big moments but those small moments that don’t quite make it on to our social media accounts.
All of the things I had never really had in my
SelfishMother.com
5
life before.
I tried; time after time, year after year, I tried (and if God really does love a trier then he would have been in awe of me and my persistent ways). Yet for one reason or another (or another or another) it failed. I failed. I tried the usual online dating platforms but the most luck I had was someone whose opening line was ‘Well you’re not ugly…’ (Gee thanks). And who even meets people in person nowadays?! Even on a drunken night out my main priority was what takeaway we were going to have and should we sit in or take it home to
SelfishMother.com
6
eat in bed.
See, I’ve always been clumsy when it comes to love, I wear my heart on my sleeve and I fall in love at the drop of hat (please don’t drop your hats in front of me fellas I’m a married woman now). I see the life that I am longing for rather than the life that is actually happening and then before it’s too late… whoops I’ve had a another baby and I’m single mumming it around town AGAIN.
Throughout the last 6 years I’ve had people look down on me, pity me almost, because I spent the majority of the baby years as a single
SelfishMother.com
7
parent trying to organise a life between 2 fathers. Many people think that I was in that situation because I put it about (let me tell you now – I. BLOODY. WISH. – at least then I’d have had some fun before landing myself in a web of baby daddies).
The truth is, the baby years for both my
children came at a time of intense grief – my step-mum passed away at the start of my pregnancy with Betsy and I didn’t really get the opportunity to come to terms with loosing such a beautiful soul. Once Betsy was born, the longing for that ideal
SelfishMother.com
8
family continued, but the big ball of grief surrounded by post-natal depression meant that I made bad decision after bad decision. 4 months after Betsy was born I was pregnant again, in a situation where I was blinded by sheer infatuation for the perfect life, but my stubborn, ‘you can’t tell me what to do’ personality meant that no one could change my mind and the next few years followed with A LOT of I told you so’s from family and friends. During my pregnancy with George, my dad sadly took his own life. At the age of 25 the amount of loss both
SelfishMother.com
9
me and my brothers had endured was immense, and at that age it’s difficult to understand not only the impact it has on your mental health but also how to deal with such a devastating sequence of events. Now don’t misinterpret the point of this post, I don’t regret having Betsy and George for a second but I’ve often wondered what life would have been like if the circumstances that surrounded their journey in to this world were different – If I’d have stuck to one baby daddy, if I’d have met Jamie (my husband) earlier, or if my dad and step-mum
SelfishMother.com
10
were around to fill the grandparent-shaped hole in my children’s lives. I’ve learnt that wondering what could have been is a way of torturing the brain as well as the heart, and it just adds to the Jenga like tower of shitness causing it to eventually fall down in to a pool of emotional wreckage.
A recurring theme in my relationships is the dreaded mother-in-law (dun dun DUNNNNN), something that many people think is a cliché and before I entered the world of relationships I did too. Let me tell you, hell hath no fury like a woman who is
SelfishMother.com
11
at risk of having her son ‘taken away’ from her. I use inverted commas in jest, because by taken away they think their boys are being kidnapped by the ’Wicked Witch of Bury’, locked in a wooden box with no form of communication, being made to eat gruel for breakfast, lunch and tea (okay that’s a little dramatic but you know what I mean). My vice is that I seem to attract men that have odd relationships with their mothers (I know I’m not one to judge as my mummy, daddy and general family issues are off the chart but hey, it’s my blog) –
SelfishMother.com
12
mothers that need to speak to their sons on an hourly basis, can’t bear the thought of them actually having their own lives or making their own decisions, mothers who think YOU have taken their sons to the fucking Bermuda Triangle to live out their days in nothingness. This kind of behaviour is tiring for all who are around it. It is tiring for the son (if they don’t actually want to take part in the monstrous mother-in-law manipulation tactics and actually want to grow up and be a man in their own right).
It is tiring for us – the wives,
SelfishMother.com
13
husbands, girlfriends or boyfriends that are trying to create a life away from the family nest – be it marriage, cohabiting or becoming dog parents (I’m not here to judge). Most of all it’s confusing for any children that are involved, children that are told that they have grandparents, but those grandparents constantly make it hard for the children by creating choices and ultimatums.
As a parent, you are in a situation where you’re dammed if you do and dammed if you don’t. If you choose to shelter your children from the conflict that has
SelfishMother.com
14
arisen then you create a ’grandparents for justice’ style campaign where you are painted out as a horrible mum who is keeping the kids in the locked box along with your downtrodden husband. And if you do, then your children can potentially be faced with even more loss, conflict and being dragged in to manipulating situations. As a parent you will always take the hit, the stress and the heartache for your children. So it’s a no-brainer, you are once again seen as the wicked witch in all her glory. My mother-in-law issues have hit me hard;
SelfishMother.com
15
anti-depressant taking, regularly having to see a councillor hard (I admit that the root of my problems didn’t start with the gang of mothers-in-law that are after me, however this was the trigger for the breakdown of my mental health). So how do we get through it? (other than the copious amount of drugs and talking therapy) ALL HAIL – THE HUSBAND.
This is where I change the narrative of this blog – BIG UP marriage, I LOVE marriage, WE SHOULD ALL GET MARRIED (not to each other though, that’d be weird). I’ve been married for 6 months and 22
SelfishMother.com
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glorious days and my wedding day was the best day of my life. The stress leading up to it was horrific, I’m not gonna lie. Whoever invented wedding planning worked for the devil because it is seriously stressful. All that aside, on the actual day – none of it mattered, everything was perfect and I wish I could do it all again, and again, and again.
Questions I often get asked since I tied the knot are
~ ‘How’s married life?’ ~ ‘Is it all downhill now you’re married?’ ~ ‘Do you still have sex?’
– It’s great, no, and H-E-L-L
SelfishMother.com
17
Y-E-S (have you seen my husband he’s FAF).
So what is marriage like? Well it’s like being on a really amazing adventure with your best friend. He puts me first, he stands up to the complex personalities that inhabited my life, he fills the house with pure love, and he is there for not just the big moments but those small moments that don’t quite make it on to social media (I know what you’re thinking… that’s all things you never had in your life before). I mean, could he be any more perfect?! Well he deals with my mental breakdowns in a way
SelfishMother.com
18
that I didn’t think was possible. He never asks me why I am crying – he just hugs me and lets me know that it’s okay. He doesn’t get angry when I’m struggling to get out of bed – he takes the kids downstairs, puts the kettle on, nips upstairs every few minutes to kiss my nose and help me to come down in my own time. He doesn’t feed in to the mother-in-law dramas from the past or the present – he tells me that I am his wife, that OUR family is all that matters and that we come as a package. But most of all when I’m being an absolute,
SelfishMother.com
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unreasonable arsehole – he tells me, he gets me back on that none arsehole path, and he makes those decisions with me, whether they are big or so insignificant that it shouldn’t even be a decision but your over thinking, over imaginative brain just can’t handle it.
Marriage is not all sunshine and rainbows, not all mother-in-laws are problematic and not everyone sufferers from mental health worries, we all know that (but I do envy you healthy minded, mother-in-law loving folk). With marriage comes GREAT RESPONSIBILITY (I’m half joking I
SelfishMother.com
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just knew you would say it in THE voice).
With marriage comes problems, like the mother-in-law, metal health, health problems, money worries, daily struggles – who’s getting up with the kids, or who’s doing the washing up but without sounding like an absolute cheese sandwich I honestly think love prevails, both myself and Mr Rowland are living proof of that.
SelfishMother.com
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Vanessa Rowland - 2 Nov 18
Learning how to live with all three of these things has been an epic struggle in my chaotic little life – and in a sense, all three of these things both impact and complement each other. I’m aware that the title of this post doesn’t stray far from an interesting episode of The Jeremy Kyle Show, and I’ll be honest, there has been a few times in the past where my life has replicated such a Tuesday morning ITV car crash with only Graham and a lie detector being able to solve my problems (or big Steve to smash a few heads together).
I never really thought getting married would happen to me. Like every 5 year old girl I used to play weddings and dream of my Prince Charming but the older I got the more I thought that Walt Disney was playing a seriously sick joke on us and leading us in to a false sense of what grown-up life was really like.
Fast forward 10 years and 2 kids to different dads later… life had seemed to reiterate my view that marriage was for those rare, blessed, monogamous breeds that live in a world full of niceness and those really nice pale green front doors with handmade autumn wreaths on (come on…you all know the type).
When I looked at the people around me it often lead me to ask myself if a happy marriage actually existed. My parents divorced before my little brother had barely left the womb and everyone else that were once happily married or even just together were either divorced, dead or a member of the Bitter Betty Brigade. Is this how I wanted to end up?! Ironically the events of both my childhood and adulthood gradually turned me in to Bitter Betty’s ugly sister… Cynical Sally – suspicious of everyone and their hidden agendas whilst regularly spooning the cat, playing ‘All By Myself’ on repeat and weeping in to my takeaway for one. Looking back through the years it is pretty clear that all I actually longed for was a ‘Prince Charming’. Someone to put me first, stand up to the complex personalities that inhabited my life, someone that fills the house with pure love, and that is there for not just the big moments but those small moments that don’t quite make it on to our social media accounts.
All of the things I had never really had in my life before.
I tried; time after time, year after year, I tried (and if God really does love a trier then he would have been in awe of me and my persistent ways). Yet for one reason or another (or another or another) it failed. I failed. I tried the usual online dating platforms but the most luck I had was someone whose opening line was ‘Well you’re not ugly…’ (Gee thanks). And who even meets people in person nowadays?! Even on a drunken night out my main priority was what takeaway we were going to have and should we sit in or take it home to eat in bed.
See, I’ve always been clumsy when it comes to love, I wear my heart on my sleeve and I fall in love at the drop of hat (please don’t drop your hats in front of me fellas I’m a married woman now). I see the life that I am longing for rather than the life that is actually happening and then before it’s too late… whoops I’ve had a another baby and I’m single mumming it around town AGAIN.
Throughout the last 6 years I’ve had people look down on me, pity me almost, because I spent the majority of the baby years as a single parent trying to organise a life between 2 fathers. Many people think that I was in that situation because I put it about (let me tell you now – I. BLOODY. WISH. – at least then I’d have had some fun before landing myself in a web of baby daddies).
The truth is, the baby years for both my
children came at a time of intense grief – my step-mum passed away at the start of my pregnancy with Betsy and I didn’t really get the opportunity to come to terms with loosing such a beautiful soul. Once Betsy was born, the longing for that ideal family continued, but the big ball of grief surrounded by post-natal depression meant that I made bad decision after bad decision. 4 months after Betsy was born I was pregnant again, in a situation where I was blinded by sheer infatuation for the perfect life, but my stubborn, ‘you can’t tell me what to do’ personality meant that no one could change my mind and the next few years followed with A LOT of I told you so’s from family and friends. During my pregnancy with George, my dad sadly took his own life. At the age of 25 the amount of loss both me and my brothers had endured was immense, and at that age it’s difficult to understand not only the impact it has on your mental health but also how to deal with such a devastating sequence of events. Now don’t misinterpret the point of this post, I don’t regret having Betsy and George for a second but I’ve often wondered what life would have been like if the circumstances that surrounded their journey in to this world were different – If I’d have stuck to one baby daddy, if I’d have met Jamie (my husband) earlier, or if my dad and step-mum were around to fill the grandparent-shaped hole in my children’s lives. I’ve learnt that wondering what could have been is a way of torturing the brain as well as the heart, and it just adds to the Jenga like tower of shitness causing it to eventually fall down in to a pool of emotional wreckage.
A recurring theme in my relationships is the dreaded mother-in-law (dun dun DUNNNNN), something that many people think is a cliché and before I entered the world of relationships I did too. Let me tell you, hell hath no fury like a woman who is at risk of having her son ‘taken away’ from her. I use inverted commas in jest, because by taken away they think their boys are being kidnapped by the ‘Wicked Witch of Bury’, locked in a wooden box with no form of communication, being made to eat gruel for breakfast, lunch and tea (okay that’s a little dramatic but you know what I mean). My vice is that I seem to attract men that have odd relationships with their mothers (I know I’m not one to judge as my mummy, daddy and general family issues are off the chart but hey, it’s my blog) – mothers that need to speak to their sons on an hourly basis, can’t bear the thought of them actually having their own lives or making their own decisions, mothers who think YOU have taken their sons to the fucking Bermuda Triangle to live out their days in nothingness. This kind of behaviour is tiring for all who are around it. It is tiring for the son (if they don’t actually want to take part in the monstrous mother-in-law manipulation tactics and actually want to grow up and be a man in their own right).
It is tiring for us – the wives, husbands, girlfriends or boyfriends that are trying to create a life away from the family nest – be it marriage, cohabiting or becoming dog parents
(I’m not here to judge). Most of all it’s confusing for any children that are involved, children that are told that they have grandparents, but those grandparents constantly make it hard for the children by creating choices and ultimatums.
As a parent, you are in a situation where you’re dammed if you do and dammed if you don’t. If you choose to shelter your children from the conflict that has arisen then you create a ‘grandparents for justice’ style campaign where you are painted out as a horrible mum who is keeping the kids in the locked box along with your downtrodden husband. And if you do, then your children can potentially be faced with even more loss, conflict and being dragged in to manipulating situations. As a parent you will always take the hit, the stress and the heartache for your children. So it’s a no-brainer, you are once again seen as the wicked witch in all her glory. My mother-in-law issues have hit me hard; anti-depressant taking, regularly having to see a councillor hard (I admit that the root of my problems didn’t start with the gang of mothers-in-law that are after me, however this was the trigger for the breakdown of my mental health). So how do we get through it? (other than the copious amount of drugs and talking therapy) ALL HAIL – THE HUSBAND.
This is where I change the narrative of this blog –
BIG UP marriage,
I LOVE marriage,
WE SHOULD ALL GET MARRIED (not to each other though, that’d be weird). I’ve been married for 6 months and 22 glorious days and my wedding day was the best day of my life. The stress leading up to it was horrific, I’m not gonna lie. Whoever invented wedding planning worked for the devil because it is seriously stressful. All that aside, on the actual day – none of it mattered, everything was perfect and I wish I could do it all again, and again, and again.
Questions I often get asked since I tied the knot are
~ ‘How’s married life?’ ~ ‘Is it all downhill now you’re married?’ ~ ‘Do you still have sex?’
– It’s great, no, and H-E-L-L Y-E-S (have you seen my husband he’s FAF).
So what is marriage like? Well it’s like being on a really amazing adventure with your best friend. He puts me first, he stands up to the complex personalities that inhabited my life, he fills the house with pure love, and he is there for not just the big moments but those small moments that don’t quite make it on to social media (I know what you’re thinking… that’s all things you never had in your life before). I mean, could he be any more perfect?! Well he deals with my mental breakdowns in a way that I didn’t think was possible. He never asks me why I am crying – he just hugs me and lets me know that it’s okay. He doesn’t get angry when I’m struggling to get out of bed – he takes the kids downstairs, puts the kettle on, nips upstairs every few minutes to kiss my nose and help me to come down in my own time. He doesn’t feed in to the mother-in-law dramas from the past or the present – he tells me that I am his wife, that OUR family is all that matters and that we come as a package. But most of all when I’m being an absolute, unreasonable arsehole – he tells me, he gets me back on that none arsehole path, and he makes those decisions with me, whether they are big or so insignificant that it shouldn’t even be a decision but your over thinking, over imaginative brain just can’t handle it.
Marriage is not all sunshine and rainbows, not all mother-in-laws are problematic and not everyone sufferers from mental health worries, we all know that (but I do envy you healthy minded, mother-in-law loving folk). With marriage comes GREAT RESPONSIBILITY (I’m half joking I just knew you would say it in THE voice).
With marriage comes problems, like the mother-in-law, metal health, health problems, money worries, daily struggles – who’s getting up with the kids, or who’s doing the washing up but without sounding like an absolute cheese sandwich I honestly think love prevails, both myself and Mr Rowland are living proof of that.
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