It’s been a good few months since I, the happily married wife of a pro-wrestler, wrote anything. And there’s a valid reason for that:
I am no longer the happily married wife of a pro-wrestler.
No, he hasn’t quit wrestling & I’m not in an unhappy marriage – we’ve just separated.
Although I’m finally strong enough to say this, I’m still not strong enough to talk about it without ugly crying til the dog brings me her toys to make it stop.
I’ve discussed the whats & whys exclusively with my two closest friends & I haven’t even been able to bring myself to talk to my own family about it fully.
But, because I did that thing where I foolishly base my entire bloody blog on my life as a wife, I can’t not at least “mention” that I am no longer a wife & that this entire online snug of mine will need somewhat of rebrand sharpish.
I’ve been able to compose myself enough to think about what the next steps will be for The Unseasoned Wag considering I’m no longer a wag & the only thing unseasoned about my current state of insania is my chips. Because garlic mayo beats chip spice every day of the week, married or not!
Do I go into Adele mode & write all about my heartbreak in hope of making the same millions that she did to buy myself some new happiness?
Do I turn into my man-hating Mum & revamp this place into some sort of bitter divorcee coven for us all to share failed relationship horror stories?
Do I track down a pair of plus size Positive Pants that actually fit me & document my journey from rock bottom to beyond in a self-help way that may help others?
Do I give up this writing lark as a bad job & focus on going full Insta-cliché by painting myself rose gold & frolicking in lavender fields for photographs?
Do I go full rogue & write about an entirely new subject, like an in-depth look into how Hollyoaks has changed over the years or a look book of real life fashion seen in supermarket queues, & pretend that marriage was never even a thing?
There are so much potential of what to do – or what not to do! – next in terms of writing & I just don’t know which route to take right now.
What I do know, however, is that this is the last of my worries right now & that I promise to update you all on the next steps as long as you promise to respect my boundaries by not asking for “the dirt” on what happened.
I’ll botch something together to replace the happy-go-lucky wifestyle bio (which may well have already happened by the time I get round to publishing this post – time is a fucking fucker for me right now), I’ll see if that directs me in any new direction, & I’LL OH-FUCKING-KAY!