It’s a loophole in my argument, a volley to be thrown. It’s not something I’ve really addressed. So- for the point of having a complete story here, without chunks of information missing- I might as well blog how and why that decision was made. And address, I guess, that startlingly misogynistic notion that the man in this relationship should have moved to me, instead of the other way round.
First off, it wasn’t like The Most Amazing Man didn’t offer to move to Sydney. Because he did, many times, and knowing him the way I do now, I’ve no doubt he would have happily settled into the existing rhythm of life with the kidlets and I. But nothing’s ever that simple, really, is it? There’s always more to it than that.
My work is flexible– I’m tempered only by my laptop and an Internet connection. The Most Amazing Man’s job is more stationary. The biggest practical concern when you’re permanently changing locations is work, is it not? And it was easier to uproot mine than it was to shuffle his.
If you’re going to do family life in a city, you have to choose one that’s livable. Melbourne, undoubtedly, is. It’s considered one of the most liveable cities in the world. Sydney, by comparison, is expensive and crowded and choked with traffic.
I dearly love Melbourne (everything except the weather, anyway. But that’s another post for another day). It’s colourful and diverse and friendly and accepting. Why would we both move somewhere we don’t particularly like, when we could both live somewhere we love?
With all that established, there was the kidlets to think about. And I did very little but think about it, for weeks and months on end. It’s not a decision you make easily. And sometimes it bothers me, even having made the decision and being happy with it. It niggles at me that children- everyone’s children, to a point, are at the whim of their parents decisions. They get swept along in the tumultuousness of grown-up’s lives. You do your best to consider their needs, their wants, what’s best for them. You listen to them. But ultimately, it’s the parents who get to decide what’s best for their children. It’s not fair, and I remember it smiting when I was a child, the feeling of impotence that comes with being so young and having no control.
But that’s the way it is, with life, and being a kid. And sometimes parents see things their children couldn’t possibly take in.
Like being surrounded by the whisper of a death, and needing a new life. A fresh start. A clean break.
I didn’t want my children to grow up in the shadow of what happened. If I can, to a certain extent, break them away from what happened so that life is sunny, instead of defaulted to grey and gloomy, I will.
And I did.
So, to the people who have asked “If he’s so amazing, why didn’t he move to you?”, the simple answer is- he would have.
But it seemed much healthier, for everyone involved, for us to move here instead.