The magic of my last post has worn off. Can I vent? Mr Poley is working hard at mo (as he should be and hasn’t always) and studying most nights. I know he has to do this. Im pleased he’s doing it.

I’m supportive. I bring brews and leave him to it. I take an interest in the subject and listen to him talking out his plans. It’s good he’s giving it his effort. I really am behind it. I bank rolled it. I did my masters while working full time. I know it’s hard.

After the kids are in bed, when I’ve not got pole class or cardio I’m at home. I do the chores, I pole, I shower, I read, I scroll a bit. I pass out.

But I’m his time away from the laptop, when he’s having a break, I’d value some company. But he’s just sat scrolling on his phone. Or fires up the PS4. It’s what he wants in his down time to unwind. I don’t complain any more. He only gets defensive when I have in the past and that’s worse for any intimacy right?

I don’t watch TV. I don’t play video games. I do scroll, but I limit it. My eyes limit it for me tbh! After a bit I just can’t see.

So last night I’m sat with him, while he scrolls again. He’s showing me lame clips on YouTube he finds hilarious. I could not give a fuck. I’m watching, I’m listening, Im chuckling. I want to be amused. But I’m not. It’s moronic crap.

I feel neglected. Fucking put your phone away and talk to me. Look at me! Can you even see me?

Oh he made a big fuss of me when I got back my trip last week. He’d fucking missed the family powerhouse. He was feeling the strain. Since the day after I returned, normal service is resumed.

Sorry babe can’t chill tonight got to study. Have you seen this thing I need? Would you mind doing this for us? Sorry babe I don’t have time. Can you? Have you? Would you?

I am fucking accommodating. But I am accommodated out. What is in it for me?’

He’s happy. Our marriage is a dream come true for him. I hear it endlessly how lucky he is to have me. He’d be lost without me. I’m a legend. I’m awesome, thanks for all I do. (Some women don’t get this from their husbands I know. I’m lucky too. )

Of course he is happy though. His life is a breeze. He gets to pursue his passion in his job. I have made that possible for him seeing how unhappy he was in his old career.

I pay the bills, he earns pocket money, no financial burdens. He basically just has a debit card and spends.

He cooks. He actively enjoys it. Cooks for fun. Otherwise if it’s happening in our family, it’s on me. I’m horny as hell these days so he gets all the sex he can cope with. 2 magnificent healthy, confident, high achieving kids that adore him.

As far as marriages go I bet there are plenty men working a lot harder for less.

Sometimes I envy other women. I have a friend at pole. 10 years older than me. She’s happy. She doesn’t work. Spends her day keeping horses, working out and in the spa. Looks after their teenagers. Always on vacation. Always a great big smile and holding a glass of Prosecco in a glamorous location.

I want her life. Ill never have it. I’ll always be the workhorse in this marriage. Everything I want, I’m going to have to get for myself, as I always have, after I’ve finished looking after everyone else.

I married for love. A man whose company I enjoyed above anyone else’s. Who made me roar with laughter. Who was the life and soul of any party. A man who made me feel cherished. A man that made me want to be a better person. A man that was passionate in the bedroom. A man that other men enjoy hanging out with and other women flirt with. He wasn’t a bad choice. He still isn’t.

My friends would tell me I’m lucky I picked a good one and remind me of their own tales of woe and poor choices.

Over the years I have wondered if I should have been more strategic. If I should encourage my daughter to be more strategic in her choices.

Left him lounging in bed again this morning while I’m up with the kids. Standard. He’s tired. He’s grumpy. Told me no sex before he’d even opened his eyes. So I just get up do breakfast, get on with the chores, service the kids. (Not today though, today I’m typing this. )

Fucking notice me. The woman lying next to you in bed. Look at my face. Touch me. See me!

So he has plans to go somewhere with our Son today. So it’s me n the girl having a girlie day. Nothing. A. Happen until he gets up though. Then I’ll rub his shoulders, stroke his back, make his coffee and sit fucking quietly amusing myself until someone needs something again or it’s time to go out.

Self care self care self care.. only goes so far. I’d love some non self care.

Thanks for listening. Advice? Criticism? Sympathy? Clearly I’m going wrong somewhere and need to do yet more differently.