“My worst Christmas was the one straight after my marriage ended”

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“My worst Christmas was the one straight after my marriage ended”



My worst Christmas was the one straight after my marriage ended. In the initial rawness of separation, my ex and I agreed that our ten-year-old son would share his time between us over the holidays. I had him first. I took him to my mum’s house a few days before Christmas and he had a great time helping bake mince pies with Granny, hanging out with the rest of the family and waking up to a load of presents on Christmas Day. It was lovely—right up until after lunch when his dad turned up to take him to his family Christmas.

I’ll never forget our son’s miserable face staring out the back window of the car as they drove away. Why had I agreed to a situation in which he’d be torn away from the warmth and fun of my mum’s house to go to a separate Christmas that was already underway elsewhere? How come I hadn’t thought through just how hard leaving would be for him?



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