A toast to the last post

Hello friends
It's February. Ridiculous, right?
I've been thinking about this exact post and this little juicy blog for two months now. Perhaps longer. And I'm sad, but kind of relieved, kind of excited to say that this is the last post for this blog.

The chapter ended some time ago for me. And this next chapter is just so bloody exciting and good and amazing and incredible and fun and entertaining and free.

Over the past twelve months I've been receiving weekly, sometimes daily, some lovely, some sad, some powerful emails from women who have been either following my blog or have stumbled across it. I feel very humbled that these incredible women have reached out to me, seeking advice or looking for answers or just simply putting their feelings into words and sending them to a stranger, me. The topic of these emails is the same: Help. My husband has left me. What do I do?

It's been almost eighteen months since my first husband and I split up. Divorce is so 2016 for me, but there's a lot of people out there who are in the thick of it and are simply looking for a light at the end of the tunnel. I remember Googling anything and everything I could think of in search of any kind of answer to reassure me that I wasn't a complete fuck up.

So I thought I would write an open letter-slash-guide to the ladies out there seeking guidance and support while they go through one of the trickiest and stickiest times in their lives. Each email I have received asks the same questions, amongst the words of stress, shock, fear, panic and sadness. Therefore, in pure-Ali form, here is my checklist for getting on with your shit and making a life for yourself.

Help. My husband has left me. What do I do?

1. Cry. It's good to cry. Let it all out, right into that pillow of yours. When you're done with the tears, come back and revisit this list.
2. Open your own bank account. From today, you are in charge of your own coin. Put it aside, squirrel it, you may need it for legal fees or just to pay rent or mortgage. Become a tight arse from today. You've got a big and financially challenging year ahead of you. Make yourself a budget in an excel spreadsheet or on the back of an envelope. It doesn't matter what format it is in, it's just time to take control.
3. Breathe. Fifteen minutes has passed and you have survived. Breathe again, now it's hit half an hour. Make yourself a cake. Another half an hour. Eat the cake. An hour and a half. Good work, you're doing great.
4. Chat to your workplace, tell your boss what's going on. Your organisation might have an affiliation with a counselling service. Accept the offer of free counselling. If not, seek out a counsellor. It's good to get this shit off your chest, talk it out with a stranger who can offer you some verbal, healing remedies.
5. Cry some more. Don't hold that shit in. Let it out. This is big.
6. Go and visit your mum. Let her cook your favourite childhood meal.
7. Put your sneakers on and go for a bushwalk. A big one. Cry for the first twenty minutes, scull some water then plan your future of independence.
8. Write a list. A list of your values, what you liked doing before you were married, who you were before you were married, your favourite records, your goals, shit you want to do when you grow up... that kind of thing. This life is now about you. Your husband has left you, he can figure his own life out.
9. Stop complaining. Accept what has happened. This is not saying you have to forgive (I always associate forgiveness with religion and I'm not religious), but accept your new situation. Deal with it. This is now where you are at. Work out your next steps. Look forward, the past has already happened. Just keep swimming.
10. Eat veggies. The divorce diet will take its toll and while you will be skinnier than ever before, you will be feeling like shit. Stress does bad things to your gut and I bet you are stressed to the high nines right now!
11. With that money you have squirrelled away from your own independent bank account, buy something nice for yourself: a frock, a candle, more cake. I highly recommend buying a new bed and bed linen.
12. Simplify your life. If you have kids, you are now on your own and that washing pile or dinner won't sort itself out. Stop putting pressure on yourself, and just let life take its time. Remember, fifteen minutes, then half an hour, then forty-five... and so on. If it's baked beans for tea. Rad. Crack that can. Tomorrow add a slice of bread.
13. Start to look around you and be proud of how well you're doing. You're becoming independent and taking control of your life. Don't let his failure, fail you.
14. My mum told me at some point, the best kind of revenge is happiness. Never go seeking revenge, only seek happiness. Find what makes you happy. Go do it. Starting now.
15. Plan towards something: a holiday, a house move, a new career, study, a new course, craft - something that inspires you to get out of bed in the morning.
16. Say yes to offers from your friends. Don't feel like you are putting people out of place, if they're offering to cook you food or a night in their holiday house. Take it. It's a treat.
17. Get out of the house. Start exploring your new world. Do things because you want to do them.
18. Breathe. Six months has passed now.  You're doing great. Get a haircut.
19. Invite friends over to your house regularly for wine and food. Time to start picking up your social life again and start making a new home. Your home.
20. You've got this girl.

So it's been almost eighteen months. I left my Yarraville home that I had renovated with my first husband, heavily pregnant with my now almost five year old son. The house that started this blog in the first place. It was such a relief to leave that house. My son and I are now living in Kyneton, twenty minutes away from my first husband, who is slowly becoming my friend. It hasn't been easy, there's been tears and insecurities, but fuck me, I've just completed the home stretch and it's good to get pass that finishing line and start at the starting line again.

Which is why this sweet little blog is now coming to a sweet end. But don't worry, I'm planning up an excellent concoction and a new blog is on its way. You better bloody follow it.

In the meantime, I will leave you with something I have said to my son (and whispered to myself in the mirror daily) over the past eighteen months:

You are strong. You are brave. You are kind. You are awesome.

You got this girl.

Signing off.

Ali Murray nee Webb.