I am in a relationship but I don’t want to live under the same roof as my boyfriend

October 10, 2019

At 23 I met a man, with whom I lived an intimate love. We moved in together almost the month we met.

Three years later we bought our apartment, a small nest that I loved with love, and we decided to get married. We were on the highway of “standard” life, so to speak. All that was missing was the baby, but I was dragging my feet a bit, never having been very child-oriented, much to the chagrin of my friends struggling to babysit.

I want to make it clear that I do not despise this classic life chosen by many of us. But I felt that something was wrong with me, eqan inner voice screamed my dissatisfaction.

Live as a couple and share housework

At first, the division of household chores was fairly balanced. He’s manic and I’m messy, so he’s spent time tidying up and cleaning and pushing me to make an effort to do that, which I reluctantly did. On the other hand, I handled the management and administrative practices, which I hate above all but which stress me out when it lies on the sideboard.

The fusion love that connected us has ended up suffocated by the daily routine, and in particular from his work which literally devoured him. He withdrew and started having very harsh words towards me.

I managed everything at home and it was never enough for him, or he made unpleasant comments about my body. I no longer felt comfortable, neither at home nor in my body.

Slowly I realized: I was better off when he wasn’t home. During the few hours between my return from work and his, I loved the time spent at home. I like silence, I sat on the sofa or in the garden, I scratched my cat with a tea or fruit juice and I leafed through a book.

It’s a cliché, I know, but it was reality and I often closed my eyes for a few moments to enjoy the moment. I was relaxed, less alert. Then, when I heard her key turn in the lock, my mind told me “My old lady, recess is over! “my body tensed and I resigned myself to giving him the place that seemed to be his by right.

Living as a couple and having a hard time finding your place

He arrived, he put on television the channel he liked without asking my opinion, he wanted to eat, but not the vegetables, so I often cooked pasta (then he blamed me for getting fat, oh irony of fate…). That said, I know I look like I’ve let myself be fooled, but at work he was drooling so much that I wanted him to feel good by the time he got home.

It was taking up a lot of space without realizing it. But he was also at home, I had no right to blame him.

When he was there, I was careful to always be a little nice, not to “let go”. Without getting to the point of going around with 12 heels and garter belts every Sunday, I always wore a dress, a light make-up, I avoided collapsing with my legs apart on the sofa, scratching my belly.

Eventually we broke up. And in the complaints made against me, she specifically berated me for my cotton panties ” who does not [le] didn’t have a hard time “, the fact that I’m not always dressed and that sometimes my waxing left something to be desired. Hearing these words, considering the efforts I was making, I said to myself: “All this for this?”.

Live alone and enjoy your freedom

So I left, with my cat under my arm, to settle in Paris. I was incredibly lucky to find a large apartment that I had fallen in love with. And then I tasted …I savored having to take care only of myself. Shopping that I liked and not having to eat according to another. I tasted the creation of an interior decoration in my image, without the need for the validation of another.

I liked being able to go home and lie down in bad pajamas to watch a series without fear of judgment. I tasted the silence that I could establish in my home after the frenzy of a busy day.

I enjoyed being able to spend my money as I wanted without being afraid of being criticized for my purchases. I savored being able to go out late at night without having to report me.

I tasted being able to put the brothel in my house for several days and then do a big cleaning and be content with myself. In short, I enjoyed taking back control of my life. It was me, finally.

A new love story …

And then I met another man. He was supposed to be just another link, but in the end he carved out a place in my life by wiping out others with bewildering ease. His name is Giuliano.

With him I can talk late into the night, discuss all the topics that are close to my heart. He is attentive, thoughtful. But… But Julien is very messy, it takes 6 months to call a plumber where I would call one in an emergency.

For him, putting his large house in order (compared to Parisian standards) is an abstract art, cleaning is entrusted to others besides him, the expense is optional even for basic necessities.

One day he told me he wanted to live with me. Panic movement, all my lights started flashing: how? How come ? So fast, will I have to leave my heaven to get back on track with this life I’ve come to hate?

I briefly projected myself to live my life with him. Shopping for two, cleaning for two (even if he has a cleaning lady, the fact remains that there is a “daily” to guarantee a minimum). Think of everything. The mental load would have been perfectly illustrated in our couple.

But I would like to emphasize that it is also and above all a difference in the tolerance threshold. To me, it bothers me that the dishes have been around for more than a day, that there has been no toilet paper for 3 days, that the vacation suitcase from two months ago has not yet been unpacked. But not him.

So ? HE IS HOME, he can do what he wants. If my tolerance is lower than hers on these details, I force myself to stop worrying about them and let it be. Her apartment, her problem. Well, I admit I’ll buy toilet paper sometimes, anyway.

Everyone at home and love will be well kept

We don’t even have the same pace of life. It is excessive, consumes a lot of alcohol, does not always eat healthy. Talk all the time. All. The. Volta. Sleeping in bed with him is impossible, I barely raise an eyelid when an uninterrupted stream of words, visibly contained for several hours, falls on me.

Yet, despite all this, and sometimes thanks to all of this, I love him. I like our endless debates, I like him insisting on taking part in feminist demonstrations, I like it when we walk up and down Paris and he makes me discover so many neighborhoods I don’t know. I like our restaurants, the exhibitions we do together, the drinks we drink on the terrace with our friends. It is absolutely unique.

But… I like living alone. And my balance depends on it.

I love that I miss you. I like that we choose to see each other. Sometimes I don’t really want, I want to put myself in my bubble. I want to return to my little paradise only to myself, who do not suffer from any compromise and who belongs completely to me. Then I tell him and he understands. More rarely it is he who asks me for a free evening, which I gladly grant him. See you reluctantly? Very little for us!

So I decided not to make concessions and don’t go live with him. I told him and he understood.

Get closer but don’t live as a couple

We usually see each other three or four times a week. But this time spent together, we have chosen it, and we savor it. I’m a guest at his house, so even if I do the dishes or do the shopping, it’s because it’s my choice. He is a guest in my house. Whenever we meet, it’s a little party.

The next step will not be living together, but I intend to find another nest near her home to facilitate our relationship. No more, no less.

My cat, on the other hand, (I would rather say “our cat”) has already settled in his house for several months and does not complain about it, on the contrary. What I see as a mess is an endless playground for him.

I listened to my inner voice telling me that I was out of place in the “orderly” life of a couple. A new inner voice has appeared that worries me, because I don’t get into boxes and sometimes I’m afraid of ending up alone. But that voice is just a whisper that I can appease with the happiness I feel today, and that doesn’t seem about to stop.

If I do not give up my paradise, it is to love Julien better. If I remain selfish, it is to give him more. And it works.