Harry's Blog

There's this way people look at me in Shenfield, which I've coined the "poor Harry" look. They don't see a person, they see a tragedy – the poor widowed man left alone with twins. And they don't see much further than that.

I'm sure many do mean well, but they stop me in the street and talk to me like I'm a special needs child – rather than a grown man. To them I am incapable of functioning, cooking myself dinner or heaven forbid – smiling.

And I almost think they want me to stay as some tragic figure. Several months ago I began to heal, which I feel is a real gift. This happened months before I ever expected it. But this healing is real. I became able to be a happy man again and begun to enjoy life again. In fact I began to have fun. That's what Lanie would have wanted, but you could see people looking at me oddly if I cracked a smile. As though I was behaving disrespectfully.

And then I met RJ. And the love we found together was built from the foundations of who we are, not based on some personal tragedy, neither hers nor mine. Nor was it based - as some might think - on some imagined need to find a mother for Patrick and Kitty. At that time I wasn't sure I was able to be a father – so I hardly think my motivation had anything to do with the children. It seems though that this has to be spelled out time and time again to some people, they can't seem to understand that I absolutely fancy the arse off RJ, adore and love her – she's an amazing, wonderful, gorgeous girl. The fact she now loves the twins has sod all to do with why we are together.

But like I said, in some quarters I'm just a sad tragedy – and one that is taking advantage of an innocent girl who I've sold a sob story to, to find a mother for my children. Or to others I'm just a sad lonely man who due to the pain and suffering of his loss has all too quickly leaped into the arms of another woman.

I think there's definitely an element of both those things in looks from some people I know in Shenfield. Sometimes the people or organizations you expect to support you and offer compassion are the last to do so. I know someone from the church back there who couldn't even bring themselves to say "congratulations" when I gave the happy news of our engagement. Not so my in-laws, Lanie's family have been extremely supportive and genuinely delighted in our engagement. If they can be happy about it, why can't others?

I'm not sad at all to be leaving that corner of Essex. But there is the worry that there will people here in our new home who will also see me as "poor Harry" that I'm taking advantage of their RJ. But when people won't talk about such things to your face, then there's little one can do about it. Gossip is a malicious and usually built on lies. But gossip by its very nature is hidden, it's the cowardly approach to dealing with any issues.

What can we do about the "poor Harry" syndrome. It's pretty simple. We'll carry on as we are doing – loving and cherishing each other and loving our little bundles of fun and puke Patrick and Kitty. There are tens of engagement cards here that show how the people that matter to us think. In 32 weeks time RJ and I will be getting married, perhaps then people will lay to rest "poor Harry", though I'm happy to say that I laid him to rest myself a long time ago.