Sunday, 13 August 2017

Letting Go

Ok, so I am going to give this a try but this is going to be a hugely personal post, so I'll see how I feel when it's written.

Yesterday was a day that overwhelmed me. But not in the ways you would think.  It was a day of victories, and kindnesses, and successes.  So why this morning am I crying into my cup of tea while DS is at his Granny's from a sleepover & my little starlet DD is still sleeping?

Because it's too much for me to lay down my strong.  It's harder than not.

I saw a quote this morning on social media that said something along the lines of - the people who never ask for help are the ones who never had it from the earliest age.   Well d'uh I thought!  Of course it is. But it's a hard pattern to let go of.....

Yesterday I went to visit a dear friend, and her sweet, lovely old Dad gave me a bag of vegetables from his garden and took me out to show me his pumpkins and sweetpeas.  It was so much like my old Pa I wanted to weep.  The gentle kindness and simplicity and openness of this dear man just touched my heart and lifted my soul, but also made it ache for my Dad who is long gone.

Then I went on to go and meet three more very dear friends who were coming to my daughter's show with me, to support and encourage her and cheer her on (in the absence of any actual family coming to do so........)   One friend whom I've known virtually since birth, one I've been besties with since we were 11 years old and the third I've known via the second for probably 15 years now.  I have a lot of old friends lol.  We laughed about it last night - joking if it ain't broke why throw it away.  And I love these guys (yes, they are all male friends - it is possible lol) and how they sat in the front row with me at a family show and cheered and hollered like proud uncles.  And I felt unutterably blessed that the gaps in my life are always filled, by some other loving soul who steps up to take the place of those who should've been there.  And it warms my soul. But it also awakens the sadness, reminds me that there was a gap in the first place. 

And then there is the photo I shared on social media yesterday.  I have a Facebook account, which is a small, private account of my real life 'tribe' and a Twitter account - which I only opened in January of this year - where I Blog, connect with amazing people, review and am followed by over 3000 people (that blows my little mind!). 

The photo was of me yesterday morning, having lost almost 7 stone in weight.  A fact which astounds me every day, every time I pass a mirror, or buy clothes (and have to go back out the changing room to get smaller sizes lol!), or when my son says 'Mum you are shrinking!'  So I shared it - because I am proud of what I have achieved, and I know many of my followers struggle with weight/ self esteem issues so I try to encourage others that we can do this.  Especially us hidden Mums, the ones who lose themselves in their children and lose sight of the way back to themselves. 

And luckily for me I have had only kind, positive reactions - no nastiness.  But that overwhelms me also.  When you have been hidden behind so many layers, for so many years, it can make you feel very exposed to not be.  I'm not a limelight kinda girl 😊 I really, really am not.  I am the girl who got her name because it was the name most similar to the boy's name that had been chosen for the boy child her parents were hoping for.  I am the girl who was tall, taller than her 'big' sister, taller than all the boys, with a shock of red hair when everyone else in the family was the opposite.  I was the 'postman' or the 'milkman's'.  I was actually born with a full head of my red hair, it claimed it's place right from the start, and I came to own the family joke that my Mother had told the midwife to 'put it back' when I was born such. 

And I understand all too well how this, and so much more, has made up all my layers.  But peeling them back is hard.  It's glorious, and empowering but oh so absolutely terrifying. Even with my army of magnificent friends cheering from all along the side lines. 

And today, I have more incredible, amazing kindness coming at me.  I bought one of those garden arches, the big wooden ones, some months ago.  I had one in the garden before but it had rotted over time, so I pulled it all down and bonfired it, cleared the area etc.  I painted all the many pieces of wood with coats of woodstain, after lugging them to and from the garage single handedly over several weekends.  But since then it has stood in the garage with me at a loss of what to do, as it is simply too big for me to be able to manage myself.  So I asked my Facebookers if anyone could recommend someone who would do a small job like that, on a shoestring budget.  Oh no said my tribe, some of us will do that.  Even though those some of us are busy with two small non-sleeping children of our own, and full time shift work, and a million other things we are doing for everybody under the sun.  We will come and do that for you. 

So this morning I am laying down my strong for a while and accepting the help I asked for.  Bit by bit I am letting go (or trying to at least!) and allowing myself the tears that come with doing so.



  1. You are strong and beautiful, inside and out.

  2. Nice honest piece about your life. I could identify with the lack of family around to help. You are doing a great job of parenting and it must be challenging.

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