When I leave my husband Pete I suspect he will say it came out of the blue – he might even protest that we’re happy and I must have someone else otherwise I’d never leave.
He’s wrong on both counts.
I think he’s happy, or at least content with his lot, after all everything goes his way otherwise he sulks.
 And I’ve lost the will to try to make him compromise – the first sign he should have picked up on is me surrendering on every issue. I no longer care that when my friends come round he ignores them, or takes over the TV every night to watch sport, or leaves his plate beside the dishwasher not in it.
Because I no longer see years stretching out with him – I know it’s temporary so there’s no point in fighting my corner.
Our marriage started out full of joy. We met 30 years ago, when I was 27 and he was 37, in the pub. I was being chatted up by a loser, and he rescued me. I thought he was the one, there was a feeling of coming home, and we moved in together after six months.
Interestingly when we got married 18 months later, my best friend refused to come because she was convinced we weren’t right for each other, she said he was too introverted and I’d end up bored. She was right, he’s also deeply selfish.

In the early years I didn’t notice, we were both busy working, me in publishing and him in recruitment. We were both selfish, pursuing our careers and going out in the evening. They were happy times.
When we had our daughter, Helen*, now 26, it was great. We were both besotted and we loved spending time with her. He was a great dad in the early years – she was a happy baby, barely cried and slept through. So while many couples buckle under the strain of a new baby, we thrived.
But it was when she started school that I first felt that I was on my own. Pete didn’t want to step up, he wouldn’t compromise his job by doing school runs, he never knew her term dates, he refused to take her to birthday parties and never wanted her friends to come round. He escaped family life on the golf course.
We started bickering. I resented him and felt he was adding to my ‘work’ rather than helping with it.
But we ploughed on – many of my friends had the same complaints so I thought it was ‘normal’. I wasn’t deeply unhappy, we still got on, though tellingly the laughter stopped, and we were so busy that I don’t think I realised how far apart we’d grown.

It was when Helen left home aged 18, that I felt as though I was married to a stranger. I imagined we’d get back the closeness we had in the early years, but we were miles apart and I took stock.
I tried talking to him, but he shrugged it off. On one occasion I remember him saying ‘we’re stuck with each other now’ and feeling a sense of dread. Counselling was dismissed out of hand. He didn’t care that I was miserable, his life was what he’d created when I’d been running round after Helen and he was quite happy with it.
His only interests are work, playing golf and watching sport on TV. It was six years ago that I first thought about leaving, but financially it was impossible.
So I started making plans. I’d gone part time when Helen was born. Rather than going back full time, I set up a virtual assistant business as a sideline and decided to build that instead.
I think the first clue that I had separation in my mind should have been when I set it up in my maiden name and called myself Miss, that was after I tried to discuss the business with him and he didn’t turn down the volume on the football match he was watching.

Since then I’ve been quietly untangling my life from his. I set up my office in the old playroom and then added a sofa and TV and now after dinner, that’s where I go.
Three years ago I moved into the spare bedroom. I cited my reason as my virtual assistant  business and needing to wake up early as I work over so many time zones and not wanting to disturb him.
We were still having occasional sex up until then, but there’s been nothing since and I don’t miss it.
It was at about the same time that I took off my wedding ring – saying it was too tight in the heat. I’ve never put it back on and I never will.
I no longer think of myself as part of a couple – but as a single entity.
An illustration of this happened the other day when we took Helen and her fiancé out for dinner, I’d made the reservation and put it in my maiden name. I’m not sure he even noticed when we arrived at the restaurant and our waiter used my name to confirm our table.
And while we got into the habit of going out separately when Helen was born, we never reverted once she left. I used to at least check with him before I made plans to go out, but now I don’t give it a thought before I book theatre tickets or a day trip to London with a friend.
My business as a virtual assistant really took off about two years ago and I left my publishing job. I can now afford to move out and I’m looking at properties. I’ll stay near him in Cambridge, as I’m hoping we can still do things as a family when Helen visits, and my life is here. I’m not in a huge rush, Helen’s getting married in December and then we’ll have Christmas together but come early next year I’ll make the move.

Will Pete be surprised? Yes. If I’d suddenly lost weight and dyed my greying hair he might have wondered what was going on, and thought I was having an affair –most middle-aged men only leave when they’ve got someone else.
But I’m not looking for that. I just want to be away from a marriage that makes me lonely and resentful. And sad, remembering what we used to be and what we’ve become. I’m also bored and want to start afresh.
And if I’m honest I’m filled with horror about the thought of becoming Pete’s carer in the future. As he’s 10 years older than me it’s a possibility and I don’t want that. By leaving now he’ll know where he stands and be able to make arrangements for his future.
Do I feel guilty doing all of this behind his back? No is the short answer. I tried and tried to talk to him, I suggested a million outings and dates, I tried to make him go to counselling and he ignored all of that. And the signs that I’m preparing to go aren’t really that subtle, short of leaving housing brochures around the house I couldn’t have been more obvious. His oblivion highlights how little about me that he notices.
So I’ll present him with a fait accompli. I suspect it will pull him up short and he’ll try to make me stay and promise to work on everything – but for me it’s over so it’s better this way.
What to look out for
Separate tv rooms
Separate bedrooms
Not wearing wedding ring
Indifference
No sex
Using maiden name
No consulting