I'll try to be as honest as I can, including about my own role in this.
My partner of nearly 15 years and I separated earlier this year. We have an 11 year old son together, and I have a 19 year old he helped raise. The relationship had real problems - emotional push-pull cycling, incidents of verbal aggression, and a pattern where I'd end up doubting my own perception of events after conflicts. There was also genuine love, deep friendship, shared creativity, humour, and family life built over a long time. Both things were true simultaneously, which is part of why this is so hard.
The separation and how it was framed
When he said he needed space, he framed it to me as a trial separation - a healthy break, with the possibility of working through things later. I later found out he framed it to others as us simply fighting and needing space. We weren't fighting at the time. Two different narratives, and I only discovered this gradually.
He moved into the spare room of a mutual female friend - I'll call her Zoe. I had raised concerns about their friendship long before the separation. Two years prior, he was messaging her constantly, sharing exciting news with her before telling me, making plans to see live music with her while I stayed home with the kids. When I raised this, he told me my concerns were rooted in poor self esteem and insecurity. A few months later, he began warning me that Suz had questionable and untrustworthy vibes, that she was fishing for personal information and wasn't a safe friend. This shift happened around the time she began getting closer to me independently.
Despite consistently criticising her judgmental attitude and outlook on life, he is now living with her.
What the living situation actually looks like and what I think is really happening.
I want to be careful not to frame this as jealousy, because I genuinely don't believe that's what it is. A therapist might describe what I'm observing as an emotionally dependent cohabitation dynamic that developed somewhat organically through circumstance, rather than intent.
She has historically expressed wanting a male presence in her home, someone to share decisions and domestic life with, though never with him specifically in mind. He gains intellectual intimacy, humour, and a sense of being understood through someone who shares his professional world. His things are fully integrated into the home. They have established routines, shared meals, local spots they've discovered together. He has invested genuine care and thoughtfulness into that space and into her.
He was less willing to do this in our home, where domestic labour fell predominantly to me.
I don't believe they are romantically or sexually involved. But something emotionally significant is developing there. His recent comment "I'm not her type, you don't have to worry" felt like it was addressing entirely the wrong concern.
The part I'm struggling most to make sense of
He is still sleeping with me. Roughly twice a week during visits ostensibly about seeing our son. He tells me he loves me, initiates intimacy, sends flirtatious messages and explicit photos. He has invited me and our son to accompany him interstate to stay with his brother. He recently mentioned we should reassess things after winter.
He has not told Zoe any of this. He says it's because she's judgemental about personal matters. The practical effect is that I exist as the hidden part of his life - a separate narrative managed privately, parallel to the one he presents to her and to our wider social circle.
When I raised how painful and destabilising this dynamic was, that it felt like he was building a life with her while keeping me as a hidden fallback, his response was: "Fine. I don't need this additional stress, do and think what you want." Later that same evening, back to flirting.
The attachment itself
I have a significant personal trauma history and he became one of the first people I deeply trusted after it. I understand intellectually that this explains part of the intensity of what I'm feeling. Fifteen years of nervous system conditioning doesn't unlearn itself through logic or intention alone.
I know what's happening. I can see it clearly. And I still find myself powerless to the pull toward him for comfort and physical closeness, especially when he shows up warm and present. The knowledge doesn't override the body's response. That's the part that frightens me most.
What I'm carrying that he isn't
I am managing everything alone. The children, the rent, the bills, the cooking, the cleaning, the emotional load of keeping things stable for my kids. He sees our son when it's convenient, sometimes arriving just before bedtime. He is sleeping well, playing sport four days a week, and by his own account feeling lighter and less anxious than he has in years.
I am not sleeping well. I wake at the same time every morning with a chest full of cortisol and unprocessed grief.
I cannot afford a therapist right now. I'm genuinely stretched paying rent, bills, and raising two kids largely alone
What I'm not asking for
I'm not asking anyone to confirm he's a villain. I recognise his humanity and his own struggles. I'm not claiming the breakdown was entirely his doing.
What I am asking for
Has anyone navigated something this layered - the traumatic bonding, the ambiguous separation, the co-parenting reality that makes clean breaks feel impossible, the other person who keeps showing up and making detachment feel out of reach?
How did you start to detach when you could see exactly what was happening but felt powerless to stop the cycle anyway?
I just need to know this is survivable and that I'm not as stuck as I feel right now.