‘I filed for divorce during lockdown’
Ruth*, 44, broke up with her husband Jamie*, 47, last October. She lives in Devon with her daughters, aged 12 and 9.
My relationship with Jamie was already tricky. We had grown apart since the girls were born; he’s straight-laced and conventional while I’m much more free-spirited. But what I’d thought was steady and reliable turned out to be dull and pedantic and he found me flighty and irritating. We started to row a lot, over money, parenting and even tone of voice.
Before Covid hit, we spent a lot of time apart with hobbies, friends and work. Lockdown changed all that. I completely understand why almost a quarter (24 per cent) of working mothers in the Telegraph’s International Women’s Day survey said their relationship with their partner had become worse since Covid hit – and why one in eight are considering a break-up.
For us, homeschooling was when things really went downhill – he was constantly bad-tempered and regularly snapped at the children for getting answers wrong. He has a high-pressure job and was furloughed. I felt he was behaving with our daughters the way he treated juniors at the office and I hated it. If I protected them, he’d snarl that I was “undermining him” as a parent.
I also found myself doing all the extra housework and food shopping – he’d lurk in his office upstairs until dinner magically appeared, yet if anyone left any clutter anywhere he’d make a huge fuss. Once, our eldest left her shoes in the living room and, the way he was ranting, you’d think she’d set fire to it.
I thought things might improve once the school holidays began but, though lockdown eased, we were both still off work and couldn’t go away. Without structure or plans, things got even worse – by August he was sleeping in the spare room and we were barely speaking.
Jamie isn’t a deliberately cruel person and was never violent, but he was so tense and we were constantly walking on eggshells. Just before school started again, he made our youngest cry by snapping at her when she spilt a glass of Ribena on the kitchen table. It was no big deal and easily mopped up. For me, that was the final straw.
That night I told him we couldn’t carry on as we were. Part of me still hoped he’d apologise and we could find a way back, but he’s far too defensive to even consider his own role in any of our problems.
After another explosive row, that ended with the girls crying and me frantically googling “divorce lawyers” at 3am, we agreed to call it quits. Of course, it was awful: he went to stay with his parents and the girls were very upset. I felt sick with guilt, but him not being in the house was such a relief. I felt a huge burden had been lifted ultimately it was the right thing.
Having the girls back at school throughout the autumn term was a godsend. Jamie found a flat nearby and we sorted out the finances quite quickly with the help of a good solicitor.
He eventually admitted that he felt relieved too and thought he’d be a better father as a result of our split. He now sees the girls every weekend and they have told me: “Dad is much calmer.”
I worry about my future alone or a new stepmother they don’t like and wish things had been different. But I’m grateful for the lockdowns. They highlighted all the problems we’d been brushing under the carpet and set us on a better path.
*Names have been changed
