And funnily enough, I found the separation from my parents very hard to handle. Strangely, living with them for three months and having their support with the twins had brought a new dimension to our relationship. I was still by no means sure of their love or opinion of me, but was moving more towards seeking their approval. Living thousands of miles away was not what I needed at this stage of my life.
Things were not working out well for us in England and Ryan lost his job within a matter of weeks of my arriving. The first of my attempts to make excuses for him came into being and I finally had a real role in his life. He needed me. To run interference between him and his family. To bolster his confidence. And I was good at it. I’d found my place in life but this came with a nasty side effect. I believed that without Ryan, I was nothing and would not be able to survive. My entire existence was wrapped up in him and this was not healthy at all.
And I was pregnant again.
Realising that we would be unable to remain in England, for many reasons, not the least of which was the rejection of the twins’ visa application, we flew back to Zimbabwe.
After spending a few months moving from place to place, staying with various family members, Ryan managed to secure a job in Harare. We moved into a lovely little house which belonged to a friend and our lives seemed to be running smoothly again. But my insecurities were still simmering just below the surface.
More and more I was thinking about what Alex had done to me. I felt guilt, taking a large portion of the responsibility for what had happened onto myself. What a terrible person I was. My actions during my teen years also started to bother me. How could I have behaved in such a wanton manner?
It never occurred to me that there was a link between the two.
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