petite anglaise

May 31, 2005


Filed under: navel gazing — petiteanglaiseparis @ 12:10 am

I’ll admit that I’m feeling weird about the act of blogging at the moment.

Although I’m only telling you part of the story, sharing what I want (or feel compelled) to write about, to get out of my system – all the while keeping in mind that I must respect Mr Frog’s absolute, unquestionable right to privacy by refraining from stringing out our dirty laundry across the internet for all to see – I still feel awkward and uncomfortable.

First, there was the flood of comments and emails. Lovely, supportive messages from people who admitted that no, they didn’t know me, but said they *felt* as though they did. People who said that reading “endings” caused them to shed a tear, or to think about me all weekend. That reading about Mr Frog and I affected them as much as hearing about a couple of close, non-virtual friends splitting up. They offered advice, a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, or even to send me comfort food by airmail. I was touched by the warmth contained in those messages, and surprised at the emotions my words had visibly stirred up, but it remained virtual all the same. And I was painfully conscious that there was far more going on in my life than the little I was telling. So readers were making judgements without being in possession of anything like the full facts. Which didn’t seem fair on Mr Frog, for one.

The stats climbed steeply. I began to fear that I might feel tempted to exploit what was happening in my personal life for its drama potential. Worried that I already had. Alternately racked with guilt and childishly gleeful about the extra hits petite anglaise was getting. (I suspect there were lots of repeat visits, in any case, out of concern, to see if any more news was forthcoming).

Someone once asked me whether having the blog couldn’t potentially influence my actions in some way. My response was something along the lines of: “No way! Read what I write and you’ll see! I write about the mundane, the trivial, the everyday. I don’t lead a fascinating life, or make myself do things in order to have something to write about…”

Now I am wondering. Are my actions skewed by the fact that I know I may write about them afterwards? Is the very fact of having a blog, and one which has always peddled the naked truth, akin to having countless cameras trained on my every move in a ‘Big Brother’ house, making it impossible to behave naturally, impossible to live life the way I would have before, when it wasn’t under this self-inflicted scrutiny?

You may suggest that I should just blog about something else: trot out a light-hearted little piece about Parisian life, or elaborate on that funny thing that Tadpole did this morning. To that I would counter that it is impossible for me to do whimsical and amusing when I am wandering around in a permanent daze, I haven’t slept properly for weeks and am feeling in turn blissfully happy about the glowing new perspectives that the future seems to offer, and melancholy about this page which is being turned and the effect it will have on our little family. There is little space in my head for anything else.

Mr Frog and I are living in limbo: we have decided to separate, but the change this has wrought remains virtual. We wake up side by side every morning, and follow the same daily routine. He comes home; I fix some pasta and ask about his day. The only outwardly visible difference is that the coffee table is littered with A-Z maps and ads for 1 bedroom apartments. Inside our heads, much has changed. But nothing concrete seems to reflect that yet.

You may suggest that I stop blogging for a while. I won’t like it if you do, and I don’t actually know whether I can. It is a powerful addiction and I don’t know that I want to kick the habit at this point in time.

I feel weird. But bear with me. I’m sure it will pass.


  1. “Limbo” isn’t easy. All you can do is follow your instincts about the blogging. Sometimes it helps to vent a little; other times it’s nice to cocoon and keep it private.

    Comment by Bluegrass Mama — May 31, 2005 @ 12:31 am

  2. If you want to blog go to it, if you don’t, don’t. Anyone who reads a blog HAS to know that they don’t get the whole story … and should know that it’s not actually our right to get the whole story :) … it’s YOUR blog, you do what you want to do – or whatever is working for you at the moment …

    that said, still wishing you all the best – and the Frog and Tadpole too :)

    Comment by Miss Lisa — May 31, 2005 @ 1:14 am

  3. Bonsoir PA

    J’ai la nette impression que finalement écrire ce carnet durant cette période c’est un peu pour vous la recherche (inconsciente?) de réconfort, de conseil… Un peu comme avec un conseiller conjugal!

    Cette envie de débalage est compréhensible. Garder “ça” en soit ça fait mal, alors vous le distillez pour atténuer la douleur.

    Vous avez reçu plus d’une centaine de commentaires depuis la déclaration de la fin, des épaules virtueles etc… Mais tant que MrGrenouille restera sous le même toit, cette “gêne” sera toujours présente pour vous comme pour lui (oh! une Lapalissade!)

    Ne vous y trompez pas, vous n’êtes qu’un personnage virtuel, un peu à la manière d’un roman. On ne sait de vous que ce que vous voulez bien écrire. Il n’y a pas d’illusion d’amitié. Juste éventuellement de la compassion. Mais on ne sera pas là pour vous écouter quand une nuit quand vous serez seule vous aurez envie de parler à un humain, un vrai…

    Souvent je me demande ce qui pousse les gens à écrire et plus encore qui en pousse d’autre (plus nombreux) à les lire et leur répondre…

    C’était le Dr BoB.
    Je voulais être psychanalyste quand j’étais petit :D

    Le week-end prochain vous prendrez vous fille sous le bras (quoiqu’en poussette c’est bien aussi!) quelques amis (si,si ils viendront!) et vous irez écouter un peu de Jazz (je sais que vous aimez ça) au Parc Floral de Paris (Porte de Vincennes).

    Au programme:
    Samedi 04 Juin 2005
    РDaby Tour̩
    РRokia Traor̩

    Dimanche 05 Juin 2005
    – Marcia Maria
    – Tania Maria Viva Brasil Quartet

    C’est 3 euros l’entrée (hélas ça augmente tous les as) mais le parc est très grand et il y a du monde :)

    Bonne écoute et bonne nuit (l’est 01h23)

    Comment by BoB — May 31, 2005 @ 1:23 am

  4. I think we can all understand that you’re only giving us the headlines of your situation and find that entirely understandable.

    I’m in very much the same boat, I’m afraid. My wife and I ‘separated’ almost two years ago, after being married for over 30 years. Unfortunately, at about the same time I was made redundant, so we’re still sharing the same house, although we sleep separately, thank heavens.

    Both of us need to move on, so that we at least stand a chance of remaining friends to some extent, for the sake of our daughter who obviously loves us both individually. The divorce absolute is hanging fire until we can split the matrimonial assets and still both have somewhere to live.

    Like you, I’m both depressed at the present impasse and excited about starting again. I can well understand your concerns about your blog, but I’m really glad that you’re continuing at present.

    Comment by David H — May 31, 2005 @ 1:27 am

  5. Hi,
    I’m sorry to ask but where is my me me me ? ;)
    I think I can understand what you feel, and respect it because it’s your blog, but of course you are gonna give ur opinion, and it’s not a question of fairness or anything else, but as I think you mentionned before, you getting your life back. So do what you want and live ;)
    Hope to see ya tommorow btw.

    Comment by schuey — May 31, 2005 @ 2:08 am

  6. What? You have been keeping things from us? Not telling us EVERYTHING that’s going on in your life? I am shocked! ;-)

    I could write all kinds of things about myself that would be completely misunderstood by anyone who didn’t know me in real life! Even in person we often edit our realities as we share them with our friends and acquaintances. Especially with those who are only acquaintances (as we are to you) – and sometimes even when we retell the story of our own life to ourselves!

    When listening to other people’s stories we react to what we hear inspired by our own experience and prejudices. The value I find in your stories Petite is what I find in any good literature – not just the story itself, but how your story reflects (or doesn’t) my life and makes me think about it. You were (are) living with someone you had a child with but weren’t married to – that was alien to my thinking, but made me think about why I made the decision I did to live the way I do. You have reminded me of the strength I find in my marriage and (obliquely) inspired me to knit a sweater for my husband. (I realized that it was time to make that commitment to him!)

    I suspect that no matter what you blog about I will find it interesting, because you write well. And if you chose to stop blogging, I’d find other things to do with my time ;-)

    Comment by Susan — May 31, 2005 @ 3:22 am

  7. Nothing unusual about the fact that you give your side. This is what would happen if you were amongst your friends and were telling them. We all tend to put a rosey picture on our side of the story and the other half is always 100% at fault.
    But as I have mentioned in my past comments, the most important person to protect and make sure that everything is clear is your tadpole, that she be able to see her daddy. There is nothing worse for a child to see than their parents break up and to use them as a bargining tool to hurt eachother.

    Comment by Andy — May 31, 2005 @ 3:28 am

  8. I haven’t read any of the comments yet. I am going to ask you to stay together in your bedroom – to realize that, in creating Tadpole, you signed up for something that you can’t just cancel. (And I know that you’re not taking your relationship lightly.) Think of this little girl, not yourselves! Be, in a word, French!

    Comment by R J Keefe — May 31, 2005 @ 7:40 am

  9. The dilemma you describe is the reason I felt extremely reluctant to comment in the first place. Of course we are only getting a one-sided account, necessarily everything you say is according to your own experience and view of things. How can I possibly give advice, attribute blame or pass judgement in such a situation? And why would I want to? There are no villains here, only people in pain.

    All there is to say is this: I sympathise with you and your whole family, and I deeply hope that with the pending separation, things become easier for both you and Mr Frog.

    And in the meantime, if you wish to blog, I hope that you continue… but I will understand if you decide not to.

    Comment by Julia — May 31, 2005 @ 7:43 am

  10. I admire your honesty with yourself, Petite. And I’m bloody glad you don’t tell us everything about you! THAT would be worrying…
    I would like to add my voice to those who say how well you write. The reason I read your blog isn’t to get the juicy bits of someone else’s life – I’ve enough in my own! – but to appreciate some damn good literature, that reminds me not a little of Bridget Jones but with class…
    I’ve never had a blog, but I reckon there must be a fine line between venting what needs to be…well, vented, and exhibitionism. As long as you (as in one) doesn’t feel that it crosses that line and you feel benefited by it rather than exposed or compelled to carry on/expose more then its healthy.
    You should publish!
    LJ Rennes

    Comment by Lucy-Jane — May 31, 2005 @ 8:31 am

  11. I have been reading your blog for a while and this is the first time I have sent a comment. I can echo many of the previous comments.

    It is your blog and many have enjoyed reading it. Now it’s time to use use it for yourself. None of us want you to feel pressured by it. If it helps you to write please do (and we’ll be there to read it). If it feels wrong for a while we’ll understand.

    I wish all three of you all the best.

    Comment by Martin — May 31, 2005 @ 9:03 am

  12. Once you start writing you always turn double. I sat by my mother’s deathbed, part wholly grieving and involved, the other part detached – finding words to describe it; gleefully almost. No good feeling guilty that’s just how it is. How writers are. Don’t worry about it.

    Anyway, no matter how much or little you are telling us, you do have to a capacity to nail down feelings most of us can’t. Not least here, your ambivalence. It’s interesting as well as moving.

    If you need to write, do it – it’s just how you are and if the release is there then it’s good. Not like Big Brother at all. You can select just what you want – and create an artefact which is and isn’t ‘real life.’ (Nor is theirs of course; but not at all in the same way as yours.’) Your honesty is wonderful. Use it.

    A kiss for Tadpole meanwhile. If you and Mr Frog can remain friends and joint parents that’s the best thing you can do for her, It sounds as if you are doing just that. Baisers all round.

    Comment by grannyp — May 31, 2005 @ 9:59 am

  13. if you want to blog, then blog, nobody wants you to stop blogging. I’ve been reading your weblog for a while but this is the first time that I leave a comment here. Just follow your heart, life goes on :)

    Comment by echa — May 31, 2005 @ 10:20 am

  14. I think the big response to your recent news is a mainly telling you how well you write, that you have the gift of communicating the flavour of bits of your life, including this bit, that you conjure up a sense of feelngs in flux that resonates with lots of people. If your writing was flat and boring, it wouldn’t elicit strong feelings for someone we don’t know. I would think that the exercise of this gift is something that can bring you comfort, an ongoing sense of self, in a time when you need that. If it does, then I would think that’s a good thing.

    Also, I think one of the lessons of blogging and the community it generates is that if we are open about feelings this elicits warmth and compassion. Often, in face-to-face life, from habitual defensiveness and sadly narrow expectations in many work and social situations, we aren’t so open, so we don’t realise how much compassion we potentially have for each other. It’s openness that generates compassion, not that any of your readers think you’re ‘blameless’ – which of us is that?

    Having said all that, I have all the same qualms about blogging, and understand yours. But if the impulse to write continues, in my view it’s probably a healthy one.

    Comment by Jean — May 31, 2005 @ 11:08 am

  15. I hope you do go on blogging, as and when and on whatever topic, as long as it feels right for you.
    Good luck this summer as your life, Tadpole’s and Mr Frog’s develop into the new dynamic.
    One word of advice: don’t rush *anything* you don’t have to; a very even pace helps stress to level out.
    All the best,

    Comment by Ruth — May 31, 2005 @ 11:22 am

  16. I understand the ambivilance: I started blogging just before my then partner and I split, so faced the choice of how much to put online very early on. My choice was to keep it private because a) I’m not a sharer that way b) it impacts on someone else and c) google sees all. I admire your writing for making private emotions more public whilst retaining the dignity and anonyminity of Mr Frog and Tadpole.

    You should blog as much or as little as you feel comfortable with – the very fact you are unsure about how much to reveal demonstrates that you want an amicable split and want to continue to protect them and I’m sure your readers understand that.

    Comment by Mags — May 31, 2005 @ 12:08 pm

  17. Petite, you are so honest with yourself, a very admirable quality. I think that’s part of why I and so many others read what you write. You have an amazing way of putting into words what so many of us struggle to admit to ourselves, especially when it comes to the world of blogging. Do what feels right for you at the moment.

    Comment by Nicnu — May 31, 2005 @ 12:54 pm

  18. Please don’t stop blogging. I love reading about what’s going on in your life. It’s like being able to peek into someone’s diary, but with the person’s permission, so I don’t feel guilty for my nosiness. And because you’ve remained anonymous and only reveal the bits you choose, I think Mr Frog and Tadpole’s lives will remain unaffected by what you write.
    I enjoyed reading you before your split too, because I relate to lots of things you write about, having a similar sort of life. But I have to be honest and say that the bombshell of you leaving Mr Frog has made me start checking your posts daily as opposed to once or twice a month. Your life has become a subject of discussion between me and one of my fellow English friends in Paris. It’s better than Eastenders. It’s the rubber-neck syndrome…

    Comment by Mancunian lass — May 31, 2005 @ 1:13 pm

  19. You have actually decided to split up?
    Ohmygod, you poor, poor thing.
    I think you shouldn’t feel as if you need to tell your readers everything, some things you should feel it’s ok to keep to yourself.
    When you say you’re sure it will pass, you are probably right. Everything runs it’s course, ya know?
    Whatever, I’m no skrink. Just go out and buy some shoes.

    Comment by Teenie Martini — May 31, 2005 @ 1:40 pm

  20. > First, there was the flood of comments and emails.
    > Lovely, supportive messages from people who admitted
    > that no, they didn’t know me, but said they *felt* as
    > though they did. People who said that reading
    > “endings” caused them to shed a tear, or to think
    > about me all weekend. That reading about Mr Frog and I
    > affected them as much as hearing about a couple of
    > close, non-virtual friends splitting up. They offered
    > advice, a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, or even
    > to send me comfort food by airmail. I was touched by
    > the warmth contained in those messages

    Well, all this may sound strange to you, for I don’t know how you read your RSS feeds, or whether you read any at all. But all I can tell you is that even though you can’t know the people behind the writings, with time they start to be an integrant part of your every day life. Reading about other people…

    Some time ago, most people lived in little villages, where everybody knew what was going on, because there was a lot of discussion about it. Now though, as more and more people live in the cities, perhaps blogging is taking the part of the village talks over.

    People still care about what is going on, and they actually still feel compassion. Perhaps that’s just about normal.

    Anyways… Just my 0.02€.

    Comment by maradong — May 31, 2005 @ 2:58 pm

  21. Suggest that you stop blogging? No way. You’re far too good a writer for us to shoot ourselves in our collective feet that way. And you’d be a stronger woman than me if you could stop just as your site hits are zooming up! Hang in there; write what feels right; don’t write if it doesn’t feel right. I suspect your antennae for this are fairly well-developed already. Take care.

    Comment by Zinnia Cyclamen — May 31, 2005 @ 3:04 pm

  22. It’s your blog, your heart, your life. I’ll admit, I love reading it, as well as many others do, but do what’s best for you, petite. And if you don’t know what’s best, don’t worry, you don’t owe anything to anyone who reads the blog. You can choose to write when you need to, and to not write when that is rather what you need. Just get through this and take care of Tadpole, that is the most important thing.

    Bon courage, sincerement.

    Comment by sammy — May 31, 2005 @ 3:18 pm

  23. schuey – your questions have been sent. Other four sets of meme questions are work in progress, but I haven’t forgotten!

    Comment by petite — May 31, 2005 @ 3:20 pm

  24. Just remember why you started blogging in the first place, and what motivates you to write at all.

    The most important thing in all of this is YOU, what YOU like and what YOU enjoy. Don’t think about the people who read it, don’t even think about justifying yourself.

    When we put our lives online, whether we’re a serious writer or someone who blogs a meme-a-day, we put ourselves up for judgement from others. It’s easy to get distracted by that…

    I think if you continue to place the focus on yourself and on your heart, you’ll find the answers, the solutions for what you need to do – online and in real life.

    Comment by Katia — May 31, 2005 @ 3:52 pm

  25. Who are we (your readers) to suggest you stop blogging? It was something that you began and something that seems to have filled in something for you. It is YOUR outlet to do with as you please. No one forces anyone else to read it and there is no one outside of the little bubble of the world of Petite, Mr. Frog, and Tadpole, that has any right to judge you for what you write.

    If you decide to stop or to go on a hiatus, that is your decision. I for one will miss you but this blog is first and foremost, your own. Blogs are akin to personal journals. They are not required reading. Anyone presuming to make a decision for you on this matter is obviously a self-important wanker.

    I hope that your journey through limbo delivers you into a lovely place and that you soon begin to heal. The same goes for Mr. Frog (from whom I feel even more distant than I do you).

    My best,


    Comment by Greta — May 31, 2005 @ 4:34 pm

  26. I know…tell another exposed on video story! They always brighten MY day. :)

    I go through events, much like Grannyp stated, and at the same time they’re happening I’m wondering what I’ll share and how I’ll write for my blog. I decided to operate on the premise that it is my blog, my stories, my way. You seem to be more than considerate regarding Mr. Frog’s feelings and a genuinely nice person.

    Comment by Bob — May 31, 2005 @ 4:51 pm

  27. Petite,

    Thank you for the questions, I was very surprised by the “density” of some of them. I had to make a real effort to answer them as honnestly as possible, and I thank you for that.


    Comment by stephan — May 31, 2005 @ 5:12 pm

  28. I had a blog for about a year. In subtle, insidious way the blog started affecting my daily life. I started doing bloggable things. This was still good, simply meaning less vegetative Sundays.

    The part I did not like was obsessing about my stats counter, seeing how many readers chose to return to my blog day after day. I noticed ever so slight changes in my tone – instead of keeping a diary, I realized I had become an editor, picking out the most newsworthy, lowest-common-denominator stories. I felt the blog was changing me, my voice, and my life – and the much wider readership was steering me to a direction I did not really want to go.

    In hindsight, the blog was a process to get over a period of transition. It had its natural purpose and lifespan. When it started to feel more like a chore, like living in constant past tense, it was time to let go.

    Although I am not a blogger anymore, I never stopped writing (writing is addictive, as you say). I’ve simply channeled my creativity elsewhere – more productively. Frankly, it has been so much more rewarding than blogging. Instead of regurgitating lived moments, I have more time to actually explore and accomplish things. The result is that my career has taken off – and there is no looking back.

    I love your blog and read it religiously – but I am not expecting a life-long commitment from your part. Sometimes it is more important to live, instead of cataloguing and reheating already lived moments.

    However, I do think you are a talented writer, and that something based on your blog would make a fine book.

    Comment by Anna — May 31, 2005 @ 7:14 pm

  29. This note is probably preaching to the choir… when The X left me three years ago, I started writing a novel. Then I got back together with Jack, the long-lost love of my life, and put the novel on hold. Then Jack dumped me, and I started blogging. Now we’re back together, sort of, but things are far from perfect, and so I continue to blog. Much though I dream of the day my prince charming (a.k.a. Jack) will come sweep me off my feet, I suspect that, should that day come, I will stop writing. The best writers have always been the miserable, the poor, the tragic, and the fucked up. I’m not sure what that says about our world, but there it is.

    Comment by Postmodern Sass — May 31, 2005 @ 9:34 pm

  30. good luck, petite, good luck to all three of you.


    Comment by zed — May 31, 2005 @ 9:45 pm

  31. You keep going Petit do what ur hearts tells you to do, and if you don’t want to blog then let it be :)

    Comment by Ruun — May 31, 2005 @ 10:51 pm

  32. I hope you don’t stop blogging. I enjoy your posts about the mundane everyday things that you do. That’s why most of us started blogging to begin with. Hope things continue on an upward path for you, Mr. Frog & Tadpole. It can only go up from here!

    Comment by yayaempress — May 31, 2005 @ 10:55 pm

  33. Bonjour –

    I only v. recently discovered your blog website–and what a discovery! You are, without question, a uniquely articulate soul. I was instantly hooked upon reading a few of your accounts.


    Comment by VERonIQUE — May 31, 2005 @ 11:27 pm

  34. Sorry to hear you have been feeling rough recently – hardly surprising in the circumsatances! I hope you keep blogging – though be aware that some people who experience stress or trauma (and the end of your relationship, with all it entails qualifies, you for both!)sometimes react by self-disclosing more than they feel comfortable with afterwards when the hormones are getting back to normal………
    There was an article on blogging in the ‘Weekend’ section of last Sunday’s ‘Sunday Times’, but there was no reference to your site! One half of me was surprised & disappointed by the omission. That’s the half that always wants to share new, enjoyable experiences & accounts for all my ‘best’ finds in books. CDs, restaurants, etc ending up in other people’s posession. The other half of me (which almost failed to develop!)is the instinct to keep quiet about a great new experience, in case other people finding out about it spoils the pleasure it gives. Any blogger must have the, former, urge to share experience and communicate with an audience, and let’s face it, blogging is a new ceative art form, just like poetry, fiction, drama, ballet or any other visual art. Your adherents are telling you that you are crafting this new art form to a very high standard indeed! How do you manage to find & combine such evocative illustrations with your messages? How do you find the words, whether describing the mundane, everyday actions (as in poledancing) or in reflecting on serious events (such as the attack on Abigail) to express feelings and emotions which so many of us wish to identify with?
    The humour & lightness of touch goes down well, too. Perhaps, when I have time, I’ll try to do a literary critique of your art form! Also, I don’t claim the expertise to judge, but your observations on child development and language learning based on every-day banter with Tadpole do convey some sense of authentic originality to me…. I especially liked the obsevation of Tadpole’s merging of the definite article with the noun, in her speech development, whereas ‘adult learners’ learn them separately (and less well). Maybe its all been discovered before… but not in the way you tell it Petite! Feel good in yourself, as we believe in you……and get some damned sleep so that your receptors can tune up again!!

    Comment by fella — May 31, 2005 @ 11:39 pm

  35. Oh damn it! Breaking up hey! Well,that sort of things happens(I’m feeling stupid).Throw away the everyday grind,don’t do the cooking as usual,if you feel bad go for a walk outside and go with schuey he sounds smart.There might be a frog waiting for you a short leap away.You’re much too nice,say what you really think about the rotten deal you had.Get mad and back to living,take care and blog it to hell.From another virtual friend wishing the good cheers to you.

    Comment by GPV — June 1, 2005 @ 12:16 am

  36. i totally get what youre saying

    Comment by andre — June 1, 2005 @ 12:33 am

  37. Your blog should be something that liberates you, not something that chains you down and makes you feel trapped. You shouldn’t feel obligated to your audience. You drew them in by just being you, and they’ll stay as long as it’s still you they are reading.

    Cheer up! Things can only get better from here.

    Comment by Raquelle — June 1, 2005 @ 1:41 am

  38. I have to say this. This blog is like watching a train wreck in slow motion. Its not good. Really.

    Comment by Root — June 1, 2005 @ 4:33 am

  39. I think that’s the point of blogging. Feeling how you feel, what you think… We are reading you, not Mr Frog. We come here to read what you feel, think, want, and love. Please continue.

    Comment by Jesus — June 1, 2005 @ 4:46 am

  40. Oh lord. Ignore Root. Unsurprisingly you sound a little fragile at the moment but nothing like a train wreck in motion.

    Comment by Satsuma — June 1, 2005 @ 9:07 am

  41. so,read and understood your post.
    read all the comments!wow!
    i feel that your ‘virtual’ friends can be more objective and say to you ‘virtually’ how it is!
    your real flesh and blood friends are 2 close or 2 sad for you,frog+tad 2 say how,why,when,who etc etc
    sometimes there are things that we can’t say to a loved one,as a reader i have no right to tell you what to do but i can see things from a different viewpoint.
    I read the ‘girl power’ support comments when you first wrote that you were splitting.who wouldnt support a woman with a child?we all were there for you with our” men are bastards!””it’s his fault!”etc.etc
    as i read on i get the impression that you are looking to “us” for aprouvement,somehow justifying yourself and we are here to confirm your actions.
    this is so totally normal,when something like this happens we need people to tell us that,yes,you were right,you made the right choice etc.this is a really hard time for you and mr F,there are so many ?’s to be answered,so many ‘non dit’ that if you cant say them to someone(your readers)then who can you say them 2!
    you can see by your comments that so many of us have been there,done that! i would love to have had the occassion to have ‘voiced out’what i felt.i did this with my friends to a certain extent,but for the fear of looking crazy……!!!
    all this to say,i love your blog and would be triste if you stopped but trister if you wrote by obligation and lost that famous ‘petite’ touch.sois pas mal a laise.entre nous il y a pas de malaise!
    do what you feel!
    love 2 all 3
    mary 93

    Comment by mary — June 1, 2005 @ 9:31 am

  42. Whenever you are being watched, your actions change.

    Comment by Visage — June 1, 2005 @ 10:04 am

  43. all so interesting; must be tough though. follow your heart petite.

    Comment by jan — June 1, 2005 @ 6:42 pm

  44. don’t do it for us but do it for you if you need it. it’s a great container. hang in there petite. xxxxxx

    Comment by ruth — June 2, 2005 @ 10:56 pm

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