Dad Mode: Half Time, Full Heart

There’s the heartbreak of separation — and then there’s the admin.

And while the heartbreak comes in waves, this part feels more like a constant hum of stress in the background. It’s like being stuck in a never-ending to-do list that you never asked for, filled with things you don’t want to face but have to deal with anyway.

Today’s list:

• Shared bills
• The separation agreement
• Transfer of equity
• Trying to figure out if we should draw up a co-parenting agreement — shared costs, who keeps the boys’ documents, doctors, passports, birth certificates. All the practical bits of parenting that no one tells you you’ll have to discuss like a business negotiation.

And trying to have those conversations — even just over text or email — leaves me completely drained. I know face-to-face would be worse. There’s too much emotion, too much weight in the room when we talk in person. So we keep it to messages. Short, polite, carefully worded messages. I reread everything before I send it, second-guessing whether I’ve said something that might upset her, or come across the wrong way.

I don’t want to make things harder than they already are.

But honestly, I’m walking on eggshells. Constantly. And I have no doubt she’ll be sharing some of the same feelings too.

I want to get these things sorted so we can move forward — both of us. I want a solid plan for the boys, something clear and fair. I want to stop feeling like I’m stuck in limbo, living in a life that doesn’t feel like mine anymore. But it’s hard.

Every form I fill out, every line I type, reminds me that this is really happening. That we’re officially untangling the life we built. And I hate it. I don’t want to think about who “gets” the documents or how we’ll divide shared expenses. I don’t want any of it. But I know we need to sort it, because not dealing with it means we stay stuck — and that’s not fair on anyone.

Still, the anxiety is real. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to breathe normally again. There’s no guidebook for this stuff. No blueprint for how to separate with grace while you’re still hurting. I’m trying to do the right thing. Trying to stay calm. Trying to be fair, even when I feel anything but okay.

I just want us to find some kind of rhythm — for the boys, and for ourselves. I want less stress, I want peace, eventually.

And in the background the thought of having to tell the boys what is happening weighs heavily on my mind too. How are they going to react, how will they feel, what questions will they have, will they be OK? Two more days until that conversation happens though…