I am going away on Monday. Abandoning my family for three whole nights.
It’s not a work trip. There’s no obligation for me to go anywhere. I have chosen to go. Alone.
Of course there is some excitement, yes, but what I didn’t expect was the huge level of fear and trepidation currently running through me.
I am absolutely dreading leaving my two-and-a-half year old.
What hadn’t dawned on me when I booked the flights back in November, was that I’ve never even left Leo overnight for one night, let alone three. Had I gone mad?
Taking in every intrusive “what-if’” thought as if they were real, I looked to cancel the trip completely, but a softer, more rational voice whispered “..don’t…” (Plus, I have already made this move, and it didn’t end well. I was booked to go to Berlin alone last year. A week before, I became so anxious about leaving Leo I cancelled the flights.
The first night I was meant to be away, Joel put Leo to bed and he slept through the night, proving he would have been just fine without me. I was devastated. And unreasonably angry. Now, every time I mention cancelling, Joel reminds me of the fury I will feel if I don’t go.
My solo trip was not born out of a deep desire to explore Lisbon. (I merely googled “places to go in February that are warmer than the UK”). It was born out of resentment.
June 2022, and my partner Joel is away at Glastonbury. He’s having the time of his life. There is music and happiness all around. Four nights of freedom. I receive a postcard on day three and can barely bring myself to read his jolly words, because I am seething.
Despite knowing this was coming for months, it is a shock to my system and I am livid.
How dare he leave me with the children for five days! How dare he … have a break!
I told friends of my childish envy: “How come he gets four nights away?”
“When will I get a holiday?”
“I want to go to Glastonbury!” (I don’t.)
“Well you should go somewhere for four nights,” They said.
“I will,” I’d reply, manically Googling city breaks.
So I booked Berlin. Then I cancelled it. And along came Lisbon.
It feels, as these things do, too good to be true.
A holiday? Where I please no-one but myself? Not a single nappy to change? The children will be completely taken care of by other people?
Maia is away with her Dad for the week, so Joel and Leo will have the house to themselves. I pictured returning to a bombsite, but I’m assured Joel has plans to “clean and tidy” whilst Leo’s at nursery.
I look forward to the end result.
I love my alone time, so to have the luxury of a trip like this does feel like a mini-lottery win. But it’s also a scary one. I will miss my little family and most likely shed some tears come Monday.
Then I intend to make the most of every minute. Millions of mothers dream of adventures like this. To be child-free, hopping on a plane and exploring a new city. I’m incredibly grateful.
Of course it’s forecast to rain for the two full days I am in Lisbon. It’s sunny for you lot over here.
Thankfully, I love museums. Plus I ordered a new umbrella yesterday, so I’m very much ready for a spot of sight-seeing.
