Why I chose to live alone

 

In 2024 I will turn 63.  People often ask me why I opted to live alone.

After a messy divorce in November 1999, I have had some relationships but nothing that was forever.

Currently, I live alone on a 3 hectare homestead in Central Portugal, 35km away from the nearest city, 6km from the nearest little grocery store. My little farm had been abandoned for 60 years and the stone cottage was little more than a ruin. Despite the challenges I would face trying to restore the farm and cottage, I bought the farm I'd fallen in love with without a second thought, knowing I would be doing it alone. My goal is to create something beautiful for my children to inherit when I'm no longer on this earth. My animals and the renovation work keep me busy, but in these beautiful surroundings I have had time to pause and reflect on my life, the many mistakes and bad choices I've made, the failed relationships. The time alone on the farm has helped me to get to know myself, and do some research on why I absolutely suck at relationships. Many years ago I wrote a self-help book on breaking the cycle of bad relationships called Fear, Phobias and Frozen Feet. It was then that I decided that I was not relationship material. I either sabotage the relationship or engage in limerence. When I wrote that book, I focused on how to break the cycle of bad relationships, but never looked at why I always chose bad relationships. This time of reflection has made me start reflecting on the why and it's taken me back to my childhood.

I was an unplanned pregnancy and ruined my mother's career as a dancer, something I was often reminded of. She started a dance studio which was her life and there was no place for an unwanted, unplanned for child. My parents divorced when I was 3 months old and my granny and my aunts ensured that I experienced some love. They saved me from being a complete basket case, but despite their love it wasn't the love I sought from my parents and didn't get. Throughout my elementary school time, I always felt like I was an outsider and didn't belong. In fact, this has continued throughout my life. I always feel like an outsider looking in. My high school was not much different. My mother went on to marry two more times. Both stepfathers were abusive in different ways, cementing the idea that I was a burden and not worthy of love. I ended up in an abusive marriage. I just couldn't seem to escape being abused or taken advantage of.

I have spent my life being a people pleaser. In my subconscious mind, if I make people happy then that's like a kind of love. But when you are the family scapegoat, no matter what you do, you are never going to make them believe that you are worthy of their love. You become like a hamster on a wheel. Running in circles and never achieving the desired result. With all of the running on the wheel and getting nowhere, you suffer from anxiety which you have to find ways to disguise so that those abusing you don't think you are weak and even more of a target. One coping strategy is to poke fun at yourself and make people laugh. That way you feel in control. You belittle yourself before they do.

I have come to realise that I am the way I am through childhood trauma and emotional neglect. My granny and my aunts were there for me and always had my back, but when we moved away and they passed on, there was nobody. I had to be independent but I was terrified. I had three children to raise by myself. Because of my childhood, I suffer from CPTSD - Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The wounds from my childhood are ever present and have yet to become scars. It doesn't take much to open those wounds even though I am now in my sixties.

So I choose to live alone. My children are now adult and I have a grandson. I miss them terribly as they always made me feel worthy and gave me the love I was always looking for. I have realised that I will never experience that kind of a love in a relationship. When my last relationship ended, that was the nail in the coffin so to speak. I am not relationship material. I carry too much baggage. Also, I have become way too independent and don't like giving anyone control of my life. Besides the people pleasing and being the resident doormat, I was also a rescuer, thinking I could fix others' problems. Frankly, that is exhausting. I am tired of pleasing others and fixing their problems. It's time to focus on myself. And that is why I chose to live alone.

You can follow my off-grid journey of restoring and renovating an abandoned farm in Portugal on my YouTube Channel 'Cindy Vine Portugal.' https://youtu.be/L2OlsKhKfg8

Surviving the first week

One week has gone by so quickly and I am still alive.  It's hard to believe that after all the visa hassles I finally made it to Kiev.  My apartment is quite nice, spacious if a little dark because of all the trees outside blocking the sunlight.  And brown walls, brown carpet, brown furniture doesn't help brighten it up.  I do have a green chandelier though.  The apartment is very reminiscent of the Soviet era.
At school I was thrown straight into the deep end with three PYP information evenings
three nights in a row.  That was the easy part.  Walking to and from school has been a challenge.  Especially in the rain.  After the first night walking home, I started cheating and taking a taxi home.  A full day's work and all you want to do is put your feet up and relax, you definitely need to get home as quickly as possible.  As a person who's walking has been limited to a day spent browsing shops at a mall, I have had to dig deep for my morning walk but the fresh air is quite enjoyable.  Or so I keep telling myself.  It is only a 30-40 minute walk though.  I can do it.
Not to many people speak English here, or if they do they are too embarrassed to try.  Haggling with the toothless old vegetable sellers who frequent the entrance to the metro is an interesting if entertaining experience.  Lots of grunts and gestures.
The bakery across from the school sells the most divine bread and pastries.  To date I have been good and avoided the pastries.  The school lunches are interesting at best and very Ukrainian.  I've had a delicious borscht and some other strange things that I was unable to identify.  Some tasted good, others okay and the long green things impersonating green beans but which tasted like fresh seaweed, I just could not do.  My taste buds huddle up and start shivering at the thought.
Being alone is well, lonely.  To come home to an empty apartment is not nice and I really miss my kids and family, especially Siobhan who was always a loud presence.  I find I talk to myself quite a lot and even start discussions about what I should eat for dinner.  The problem is that I have now started answering myself.  I wonder what I'll be like after a few months?
As I can't get the TV working (I need to get the landlord in anyway as the door to my little balcony where the clothes drying rack resides is jammed and doesn't open) I have been watching the TV series and movies I had saved on my hard drive.  Movies and series I had been saving up for just a time like this.  At least my internet works now.
It seems that walking is the norm here, and I looked up on Google maps and found a little supermarket about 1km from where I live.  The range of salamis and smoked meats and cheeses is extraordinary.  However, I did not find Gladwrap, tin foil or toilet paper.  The toilet paper that seems to be used here is definitely recycled paper and resembles the roll of paper that goes into the supermarket till machines.  It is rough and hard on your bum.  I was hoping to find some nice soft 2-ply but to no avail.  I haven't given up yet.  The meat looks fresh and good but what type it is is a mystery.  I think I bought some pork chops, beef mince yesterday, but the red steak/stew meat I have no idea.  It looks a little red to be beef...
Friday night, stopped off at a little bar/restaurant on the way home with some colleagues and had a very large pint of draught apple cider that was delicious and refreshing.  Yesterday there was a beerfest in town, but with rugby on and the rain pelting down, I decided to rather find the supermarket in between showers, and buy some washing powder to do some much-needed washing.  Two weeks worth as I had a pile from the week I was holed up in a hotel in Pretoria waiting for my visa.

Of course I have nowhere to dry the washing, so my clothes are spread out on the furniture in the lounge.  Apparently the central heating is switched on by the government mid-October regardless of the temperature, and it stays on until about April next year.  You can't adjust the settings and temperature, and while it is minus temperatures outside people walk around in shorts and t-shirts inside their apartments.  I suppose when that happens my washing will dry quite quickly.  I found an iron in the cupboard so guess I might have to finally learn how to iron.  Something I have managed to avoid my entire life so far.

Well I guess it's time for me to use some of that heavenly bread I bought and make myself some breakfast.  I want to do some writing today.  My goal for yesterday was watch rugby, find a supermarket and do my laundry.  I reached all targets.  Today's goal is to write my blog, pack away my hopefully dried clothes, do some school work and work on Hush Baby.  Sundays will definitely have to be writing days as there is no time during the week and when I get home I just want to chill.
Have a great week ahead!
Cindy