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“It clashed this weekend with Marc.

It was smoldering, but there, it really clashed. We left for the weekend (he had insisted a lot), and we found ourselves in a kind of place with no wifi network, no connection, and no receptionist: basically, we were unreachable. For me, that was out of the question.

Our two sons are still small, and I refuse to take that kind of risk. I said it quietly to Marc, it seemed obvious to me. I didn’t expect his reaction at all: he was furious, he left the room, slamming the door, and saying to myself: “Anyway, you didn’t want this weekend. You don’t want to spend any more time with me since they’ve been here, you prefer children and I use you for I don’t really know what”. The worst ? He is right.

I prefer children. I know, said like that, it may sound a little strange, but it’s true. I prefer the moments I spend with them. I prefer to fall asleep and wake up near them. I prefer to eat with them, even if we have to dine much earlier. And between a movie with Marc or an outing to the toy library with them, I will always prefer the toy library. So.

The problem is that I got them late. And hardly. For a long time, I thought they would never exist. I saw them in a dream, and that too, it’s strange to say it like that, but I missed them. Atrociously and in my flesh. Since they are there, they fill me. They are my victory and they are my joy. And the love I have for them is so intense that next to it, what I can feel for Marc seems all bland: he’s great, we get along well, he’s a wonderful dad, but what do you want happens after ten years together? It gets dull, and that’s normal. Whereas with my boys, we are only at the beginning. That’s how I explain it anyway. You agree ? – Lisa, 44 years old.

“Dear Lisa,

Uh, uh – the lady coughs, trying to find her words, to tell her interlocutor that, no, she does not agree, but without taking the risk of offending her so that the discussion can continue… But therefore: no , Lise, I do not agree with the fact that your ties with your children, and with your partner, can be compared to the yardstick of the years spent together. Because, whatever the number, it will not erase a fundamental: The. Relationship. Is not. Not. The same.

With Marc, it is horizontal, chosen, and thus potentially doomed to disappear. With your children, it is unconditional, absolute and vertical: you are their mother. Neither their girlfriend, nor their companion, nor their lover, their mother. This means, for example, that you sleep with your companion – or alone, if you prefer, but not with them. I know, it might sting a little at first, but that’s not your place.

Your place is unique, and you are irreplaceable, but you cannot, you must not, be everything for them: your mission, to love them, to help them grow, also consists in letting them breathe a little… And sometimes take a babysitter to accompany them to the toy library while you go to the movies with Marc. Don’t worry, as great as she is, they’ll never prefer her – because you two aren’t interchangeable either… Don’t worry, everyone will get over it.

Better: you will have missed each other, you will be happy to meet again, and you will have many, many things to tell each other. Deep down, I’m sure you know that. That the theory, you know it. As for many mothers, it is the practical implementation that is more complicated. We wear them for nine months, they are physically in our flesh, our belly, our cells, our blood…

Everywhere they are with us. And we quickly get into the habit of doing nothing without them: when things go well, it’s soft, it’s good, it keeps you so warm… So obviously, when suddenly, they “come out” of us, it’s like a vacuum, a current of air, which can be a little scary. It has long been called “deliverance”, the moment when the baby comes out of the mother’s womb. Except that freedom, sometimes, it scares the crap out of you.

What are we going to do with it? What are we going to do with this new body, neither the one who is carrying the child, nor the one who has never carried one? How to find this fusion so complete, and so perfect, that we discovered when we were the only ones able to feel this baby to come? And it’s true that, in general, these are the times when we argue the least with our children: in any case, from their pocket of amniotic fluid, they have little to respond to… Leave them the space to be autonomous means taking the risk of seeing them develop without us, outside of us, and therefore, from time to time, surprising us, even shaking us, in their singularity – OH MY GOD, THEY ARE NOT MY EXACT COPY!!!!

Because then, we would have to try to understand them. Because then the link would no longer have this evidence of the very first heartbeats – again, I’m talking about the cases where it goes well. And so, if you follow me, failing to accept that this link is transformed, we will do everything to find osmosis: we don’t leave them anymore, we don’t let go of them anymore, we breathe their air and we even share the chicken nuggets for dinner. The problem is that you are expending mad energy in a losing battle: they will grow. They will always love you, a priori, but, yes, they will leave you. And it’s the best thing that can happen to you, to them, and to you, I promise you. Because then they’ll know all the joys of life that you’ve ever known – I’m talking about friendships, I’m talking about love, I’m talking about travelling, whatever you want… And then you, too, will find yourselves. who you were before them.

Attention scoop: you were someone before being a mother. And that someone, he’s always there, no matter what you think. But maybe that’s where it gets stuck… Maybe there you should ask yourself: what was your life as a woman like before becoming a mother? What did they, basically, represent for you, your children? This lack, of which you speak, why was it so cruel? No, Lise, not all women feel the same… And maybe it would be worth talking to someone (professional) about the deep and legitimate pain you may have felt during all that time you were trying unsuccessfully to get pregnant.

Lay your wounds somewhere. Take the time to ask yourself these questions, rather than evacuating the subject with a: “I prefer my children”. You don’t have to “prefer” your children or your companion, since, once again, they are not on the same level. It’s a bit like saying to me: I prefer my car to my house, you know? That, yes, that would be strange”…

PS: yes, I agree with you on one point: if I had been unreachable, even 24 hours, when my sons were young, I would have left immediately! But I’m sure Marc understands that very well. It’s your romantic bond, in general, that he wants to see reborn. It is his place he wants to recover. So, even if he does it clumsily, we can perhaps say to ourselves that on this, he is not entirely wrong…

PPS: no, love doesn’t necessarily fade after ten years. It transforms, yes. But it can also grow, on the contrary.

PPPS: That’s it. »