Part 2: Making Room for New Relationships
Read part 1 here: Our Life Together Apart – No Manual, No Template, Just a New Way to Love and Belong
When people hear about our setup – two exes co-living, co-parenting, and still being each other’s closest allies – their first reaction is often:
How does that even work?
And the second?
But what about dating?
Ah yes, the million-dollar question!
How do you build a life together apart while also making room for new relationships?
How do you bring someone into your world when your world still includes your ex – who is also your best friend, breakfast companion, and occasional co-conspirator in the ongoing battle against the laundry pile?
How does the new person in your life feel valued when you confide in your ex before confiding in them – not because you’re comparing relationships, but simply because you were both in the kitchen at the same time and started talking?
Proximity, habits, and shared routines can be powerful – and complicated – things.
And maybe the hardest question of all:
How do you keep showing up for each other while also learning how to step back – gracefully, quietly, even when something inside you tightens – so that the other person can move forward?
Let’s talk about it.
We grew up with a particular narrative:
You fall in love.
You break up.
You move on.
Clean break.
End of story.
But love doesn’t always follow a script.
Sometimes, it shifts roles rather than disappearing.
Sometimes, instead of ending, it just changes departments.
From romance to friendship.
From partner to co-pilot.
From “you and me” to still you and me – just in a whole new way.
And let’s be clear – this is not seamless.
It is not painless.
It is work.
There were moments of silence thick with unspoken things.
Moments where we had to actively choose not to slide back into what was familiar.
Moments when one of us had to sit with the demon of jealousy or sadness alone, just to let the other person be happy.
That’s the part they don’t talk about in post-love stories.
You don’t just support each other’s happiness.
You make space for it.
Even when it’s not your turn.
Even when it hurts a little.
That’s when you choose the long-term friendship over short-term comfort.
When you realise that love – the kind that grows beyond romance – sometimes requires sacrifice.
This part of the story could be one of the most important, and I’ll come back to this in the future.
Now, onto daily life – because here’s the thing: co-living with an ex isn’t a “just wing it” situation.
Without some ground rules, you end up in chaos.
And nobody likes chaos – least of all people who are trying to raise a child together.
Some of the rules we live by:
Respect the space – Yes, we live together, but that doesn’t mean we’re constantly in each other’s faces.
Having separate rooms and personal spaces – and not commenting on each other’s questionable taste in bed linens – is crucial.
Current status: We fail at least once a day, usually involving a shared eye-roll in the hallway or a passive-aggressive door closing. But hey, awareness is half the battle.
Parenting is a team sport – We divide responsibilities based on strengths, not outdated gender roles.
If one of us is better at handling school forms, they take that on. If the other excels at logistics and meal planning, that’s their thing.
Privacy is a shared responsibility – You don’t get to know everything just because you hear everything.
Just because you’re home when the other person comes back from a date doesn’t mean you get the post-date download.
Emotional honesty over emotional performance – Pretending everything’s cool when it’s not? Doesn’t help anyone.
We’ve agreed it’s okay to say, “Hey, I’m feeling a bit off today,” or “That was hard to see,” without it becoming a blame game.
Vulnerability is welcome. Drama is not.
Don’t keep score – This one’s big.
We’ve both made sacrifices. We’ve both compromised. We’ve both made space when it hurt a little.
But we don’t tally.
Because love – the kind that lasts beyond romance – doesn’t come with receipts.
Humour is survival – Shared eye-rolls in the hallway.
Passive-aggressive tea mug messages. Inside jokes about who left the butter out again. (Its always me)
Humour keeps things soft when life gets sharp. We use it often. Liberally. Like butter.
We still talk. A lot. – The foundation of this entire setup is communication.
Whether it’s about groceries, emotional support, or making sure we’re not both scheduling dates on the same night (which, yes, has happened), we check in.
Which brings me to the next topic...
If our setup makes outsiders curious, it makes potential new partners cautious.
And fair enough – this is not your average situation.
The key to making it work?
Acknowledging that this is a lot to take in.
We don’t just assume someone will immediately “get it” or feel at ease.
Instead, we do what we do best: we talk about it.
Because it is a lot – loving someone who still has a love for someone else, just in a very different way.
And here’s the thing: it’s not just about the two of us.
There’s a third, very important person in the story of our life.
At the centre of all of this is our daughter.
She is, of course, our top priority.
But we’re also each other’s top priority – not in a romantic sense, but in a foundational one.
That creates a stable, healthy dynamic in our family.
One where love and respect aren’t competing forces, but parts of the same structure holding everything up.
We’ve made a conscious decision to build a harmonious environment around her – and also for ourselves.
One small but meaningful example: we try to start every single day in harmony. (Easier said than done.)
That might sound lofty, but it usually just means pacing ourselves, being kind in the chaos of the morning routine, and making sure the first energy our daughter absorbs isn’t stress or friction – but steadiness.
Our guiding principle is simple: she lives in a home filled with connection, clarity, and calm.
That doesn’t mean we don’t argue or stumble – of course we do. But we do it with care, and with awareness of what our energy creates around her.
Do we fail sometimes? Yes.
We also have boundaries in place – not because we’re strict, but because they help protect the emotional safety of our home.
One of those boundaries is that we don’t bring new romantic partners home to spend the night.
Dating is part of life – for both of us – but introducing someone into our shared space, and into our daughter’s world, is a big deal.
So we take that step slowly, thoughtfully, and with a lot of intention.
That said, our house is not a closed bubble. It’s alive.
We host dinners, we have friends over often, and our daughter is very much part of that social fabric.
She sees us laughing, connecting, and surrounded by people we care about.
She gets to feel part of a broader community, while always knowing that her core family is steady and safe.
We work to make sure new partners feel secure - This is huge.
If someone is dating one of us, they need to know they’re not stepping into a weird triangle.
We actively make space for them in our lives - not just as an afterthought, but intentionally.
They need to be comfortable with our setup – This isn’t a “take it or leave it” ultimatum, but it is our reality.
We live together, we co-parent, and our dynamic isn’t changing anytime soon.
Someone new needs to be okay with that - otherwise, it won’t work.
We stay mindful of their experience - It’s easy to focus on how well this works for us, but it’s just as important to tune into how a new partner feels.
Are they feeling left out? Do they need more reassurance?
We do our best to ask, to listen, and to adjust where we can.
(And we’re still learning – this is very much a work in progress.)
Ultimately, just like we want each other to be happy, we want any new partners in our lives to feel seen, respected, and never like a guest in someone else’s ongoing story.
At the heart of all of this is one simple truth:
Our priority is making sure we all have a good life.
That means keeping our co-dynamic healthy.
It means making sure new partners feel seen and secure.
It means creating a steady, loving environment for our daughter.
And it means continuing to show up for each other – even as we build lives that now include other people.
Would this work for everyone? Absolutely not.
But for us, it does - because we choose it.
And we put in the effort to make it work.
And honestly? Seeing each other happy, balanced, and surrounded by the right people is worth every hard conversation, every adjustment, every sacrifice, and every curious eyebrow raise from the outside world.
Because at the end of the day, love - whether romantic, platonic, or familial – isn’t about fitting into a box.
It’s about showing up, over and over again, for the people who matter.
Lots of love,
Stina