Ok so shock revelation I found out yesterday a piece of information that has crippled my joy and CRUSHED my world. I am a glass half full kinda gal so it doesn't take much to tip me over the edge. Ok, you ready? Here it is: MY EYELASHES ARE AGEING! I kid you not. I read this in The Sunday Times Style mag, which is pretty much the Bible of all things fash' n beauty, so it is in fact FACT. So now as well as all the other 534 things I worry about, I also have to now face the reality that every nook and cranny of my bod is aging. Rats that's my modelling career over then.
So it got me thinking about all the other things I worry about. The worries that hound my chunk of peace and happiness and continually threaten it with jibes and recurring mind obsessive chit-chat; in a nutshell, that I am failure basically. This is a dirty deep rooted fear from my childhood for lots of different reasons. Every time I think I have shrugged it off it follows me up the stairs or attaches itself to my leg and wont let go. I am a worrier just like my dad and the trouble is that the worries always take bed in that fundamental damaged foundation of my girlhood where they lounge and grow. I know I'm not alone.
Here's some worries right now from my worry pot; Son number 1 is turning into a grunting man-boy whose phone has become an extension of his nose and I just don't want to lose him!!! My firstborn!!! NOT EVER!!! Son number two is disturbingly calculating in a (Crimewatch kind of way) and doesn't eat anything unless its a plate of sweets. Also son number two is saving up for a tortoise may I add. Yes I just wrote that. Yes it's happening in my life. Son number three has been so mollycoddled and over-fed by me (but he's the baby!!!) that I worry he might end up living with us forever. But now here's the rub, the biggun' the humungazoid of worries; I walked out of a job that made me so miserable and ill four months ago without having anything else to go on to. Stupido? Much? Well I don't regret leaving, no not ever, but financially it really aint fine n' dandy for us right now.
I worry so so much about the 'me' word. What am I now? (what have I done eek no job!!!) I know I'm a mum, tick. I know I'm a wife, tick. But what else? Whats is my title/job/box now?. Our family calender goes like this, in columns: 'Harrison', 'Marcus', 'Pierce', 'Paul' (the hubster) and then 'Mummy'. No name, just 'Mummy'. Whats is 'the mummy?' Who is 'the mummy?' I realize that I am at a point in my life where I am coming to my mothering senses so to speak. My boys are all at school and I walked out of job that was breaking my heart and killing my insides, yeah just left y'know. Life has slowed down and I am a now a very healthy and happy (poor) person. Before me I have a blank canvas to sprawl myself on and stamp my big fat Greek ass logo on. Yeah, I'll do that. In a minute. Maybe tomorrow. Ok today. Maybe.
You see its hard to know who you are sometimes when you have devoted your whole life to your kids. When you have put them and their needs first and suddenly someone shouts that your on stage to perform in a production of 'Your Own Life' in like FIVE MINUTES!!!!!! Oh and you are naked by the way. (or was that a dream I had? Well anyways you get the gist) That's how I feel, Maybe if we are honest how a lot of us women feel. Happiness was once just about if my kids were happy. Period. Listen I still want that but I want the 'me' to be happy too y'know 'the mummy'. (not sure that's grammatically correct but lets just go with it for now shall we.) Y'know I lost myself when I had my three boys, mostly due to PND which I spoke about in my first blog, I remember the days of pushing a double buggy with a buggy board attached (yes there is such a contraption of torture for mothers would you believe it!) like totally in a fog! I knew I was pushing the buggy but I wasn't really present. I felt lost. I had three boys under four (WHAT THE!!!??? I know, I know) and I did a good job but all the while felt I was drowning. I loved those three boys like nothing else (I still do before you call social services) but I wasn't really there y'know. Present. My body did the work but my head was 'out to lunch' so to speak. Even when I look back now there is a numb patch of motherhood. I thank God I got well and that we have all come through miraculously unscathed as a family. I am grateful, so grateful that and I am whole again. But I am left with the question, now what?
What's gonna make me happy? What were the dreams I had and shelved, neigh buried in fact. BB as I call it: Before Boys. What about you? What are your dreams my darling? Yes, you, reading this now.
I think we are all searching for happiness aren't we. Aren't we? The dreams you had haven't gone away. Dormant doesn't mean dead. The happiness you long for is right there with you, in your hands sugar. Sometimes we strive for something beyond when all the grace and joy we need is right in front of us, around us, in us. The person you lost is still there, I promise. The dreams you had. you still have. It's all there don't worry. I actually feel that I am 'thawing out' from mothering if that makes sense? I am still a loving devoted mum but I am coming round so to speak and remembering the things I once loved to do. The person I used to be.
How do you get the happiness? Like actually physically get it, grab it then eh? Well I think as a woman, as a mum it's by making and creating space in your life (I know how ridiculous and impossible this sounds.) But sometimes, especially as mums, we think if we aren't running around (headless chicken stylee) doing everything at once then that is resting. But its not. Not doing is not resting. Not doing doesn't amount to stillness. Not doing doesn't mean you are giving yourself the space to find your happy and figure out your girl thang. Is your mind at peace? What is the cost you are willing to pay for happiness? Oh its going to cost. I think for me its letting go of perfection and the need to have it all well, perfect. The perfect house, the perfect made beds, the perfect folded washing, the perfect folded kids. Sometimes you need to let things go for a bit to look after you. To find you. Right now as I tap away at the lap top I sit with a wet crotch from spilling my coffee all over myself. But its okay I'm going to keep going, keep writing. Whatever you need to do pretty mama do it. I like saying pretty mama by the way. Is it taking time in a coffee shop to reconnect with yourself with a notebook, is it a long walk or exercise, or a piece of music. Find it and do it and be. We never just 'be' as women, as mums.
All I ever wanted to be was an actress. Aged 5 I began playing different characters, different imagined people each day to deal with a trauma that had happened to me growing up. At junior school they thought I was deaf, but that's only because I chose to play at being deaf. Aged 11 I wanted to audition for The Going Live Talent Contest with Philip Schofield (man now you know how ancient I am) but my dad wouldn't take me all the way to Birmingham and I sobbed. Shame. My Cilla Black impersonation was the bomb. Still is actually if you are asking.
I want to act and make people laugh and 'do the funny' as my Greek mama says. I am pursuing my comedy career and I am scared, like poo my pants scared. I still feel like a bit of a fraud at the school gates talking myself down. "Like really? Who do you think you are? You a mum of three? Really at this stage in life? Aren't you going to be 42?" Self-talk sucks and it ain't real. Just coz your mind says something to you Mrs it doesn't make it real, did you know that?. I have paid a lot in tears to learn the truth I am telling you now. I am pursuing my dream even though it feels 'wrong' because I know in my gut, not my head, that it's right. What about you? Whats your dream? What did you like to play when you were five little lady? I don't want to come over all 'cheesy-fluffy-cutesy cat picture' (cant bear those) with you, I am being real with you. We try so hard to be mum-woman sensible and tick life's big boxes but what about taking time out to be happy, to actually figure out what that means to you. Time out to play and dream again?. Go on dream again I dare you. Go get you some happy. Don't put it off till tomorrow. Now, is the best moment of your life.
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