I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately.
It’s an uncomfortable space, as if the clothes I wear no longer fit me. Except this is not about skinny pants, it’s about life, personality, behaviours, the people around me and the things I do every day, much of it feels too tight.
So I do this when I’m in a funk, I write to try to make sense of my world and in so doing, maybe I can help you, friend, also make sense of your world. Perhaps you’ll read this and say “Oh sweet mother of rabbits, that’s me too, I see myself clearly, in you.” Or you might say, “silly, self-indulgent cow, what is she going on about?” Either way, it’s your right and your choice. I used to care but I don’t, any more. This is my little corner of the internet and I’m writing for self expression and my own wellbeing and because just maybe, it might help someone too.
Of course, I want to make sense of my own world because this is the head I live in, the heart that beats in my chest, the body I walk around in, the energy I give off, and frankly I’m not sure that what I’ve been doing in life is really working for me anymore. Or indeed, whether many of the people around me are floating my boat either.
So let’s see, I’m a 51 year old woman, I have birthed a son, who is now 15, and hairy, and have co-parented (I hate that term) two boys who are now 18 and 20 and also hairy. I’m proud of my/our boys, and I have to say ‘my/our’ so as not to lay claim to have been the only parent, because then the other parents would read this and get upset … and look there it is right there, censoring myself so as not to upset other people, making sure to give credit where credit is due, when in fact this blog is about me, so what the hell am I even doing here worrying about what other people may think and feel and stressing about trying not to come across as too self-congratulatory and indulgent?
The point is, I’m a mum and a step-mum and being a step-parent is one of the hardest and yet, most rewarding things I’ve ever done. I’ve both lost and found myself as a mum and step-mum, over and over again. Express needs, suppress needs, express needs, suppress needs. Step forward and love, step back and give space with love. Fail at parenting, win the day at parenting, wonder what this strange step-love is and where it came from. But this isn’t about step parenting today, more on that in another story.
Where was I before my inner critic sat up? Oh yes, stages in life. In real life and on the web where I spend a bit of time because, well, online business…. I’m surrounded by bright, shiny, happy people, all filled with wisdom and zest for life. I’m bombarded by twenty and thirty-somethings with perky boobs and wrinkle free faces and their advice to wake up happy, be grateful, change my mind, change my life, relax, go with the flow, meditate, eat mushrooms, save animals and whilst some of it makes a lot of sense, some of it makes we want to shout crossly, “you don’t get it, you’re twenty-three and your nipples still face north, come back and preach life when you’ve had some real-life adversity that’s nearly broken you.”
You bright shiny Insta-something, you do not live my life, therefore I cannot allow you inside my head because you’re just spouting the same crap as everyone else without really understanding it.
In conclusion, if we’re going to look for life advice and inspiration, let’s look to people who’ve actually lived life, shall we? Let’s listen to the people who’ve dealt with the shit we’re dealing with, and emerged bruised, yet smiling. If we can all be more honest about the shit we’re dealing with, we’ll all serve each other better in life.