Is it just me? Or has your partner turned into the Stasi?

Is it just me? Or has your partner turned into the Stasi? asks MARION McGILVARY

  • Marion McGilvary shared her experience of socially isolating with her partner 
  • British writer claims he’s in her face constantly, noticing everything she does
  • She admits that it’s a challenge having him monitor her productivity and diet

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the company, but being socially isolated with my partner is giving me a persecution complex.

We are both secret introverts who usually spend some of the week apart, but suddenly he’s in my face all the time, noticing everything I do. Or, more importantly, don’t do.

It’s like living with the Stasi, being under 24-hour surveillance. Granted, it’s all benevolent attention from a man who cares about my health. Just a bit too ruddy much for my liking, is all.

Marion McGilvary shared the challenges of socially isolating with her partner (file image)

I rather enjoy the unobserved life, but it’s a thing of the past. The non-drinking boyfriend is monitoring my wine intake, commenting on the missing biscuits or asking what happened to the crisps.

If I fancy a lie-in, he wakes me up with coffee looking disapproving. If I miss my daily yomp, he asks if I’ve given up exercise.

We are currently locked in a chocolate war as he said I ate it all — I mean, I did, but still. I’d quite like to be left to gorge and slop around as I usually do when alone, but these days my inner slut has nowhere to hide. My housewear has to be proper clothes. And a bra. If I don’t go to my studio and work, he knows I’m being lazy.

Have you been productive today, he’ll ask, censoriously. If watching four episodes of Bake Off is a creative pastime, well yes.

Normally when he’s away I let the cats sleep with me. I eat toast in bed. I do messy projects in the sitting room. But now I can’t even sneak in an afternoon nap without being caught out.

I don’t mind being at home. I love it. I just can’t bear having nowhere to hide my crazy. Or his, come to that.

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