What it feels like to be “other”

I see versions of myself reflected all around me. As a white, cisgender, straight, healthy, educated woman who chose marriage, career, house and family. I do not presently live with a visible or invisible difference. Added to that, I’m a dedicated rule-follower, colouring nearly inside the lines. Typical. Generic even.

My life has lead to very few experiences of feeling other. But I did enter that way of being after Xavier died. Read more

A Perspective. On Perspective.

Perspective - Butterfly on beach

I keep coming back to it. Perspective.

It’s a slippery thing.

After Xavier died my perspective on perspective changed. No longer a guilty reminder of my first world problems. It became a talisman. I held to the blessings, not because I felt the nagging need to be more grateful, but because they were all I had left. Read more

If it were common – would it hurt less?

*** Trigger warning: This post discusses child loss, grief and miscarriage ***

Grief. Loss. Pain. Sadness. These are universal emotions. If all the feelings of the world were placed on a scale, I daresay the darker side would draw lower. Yet, that’s not what we see. Not what we are taught. Happiness is to be prized and paraded. Sadness is to be swallowed and hidden away.

I’ve thought a lot about this since Xavier’s death. The reactions to child loss, and to loss in a broader sense. What is acceptable in grief and what is not. You are told there is no guide book. But believe me, there are a host of unwritten rules. Read more

Yearning for Rest

Yearning for Rest

My youngest was nearly one. The mythical “sleeping-through” remained mythical. And from the accounts of my new mum girlfriends, we had all been fed the same fantasy. None of us were getting a full eight hours. My very bones were weary with tiredness. It was impossible to fathom how we could continue and yet we all did. I yearned, yearned for rest.

I remember talking to mum about it. How weary I was. My dear mother has a way of seeing herself in every story. So she told me about how tired she was. As an aside, if you’d like to frustrate a person to tears, be a person without a baby telling a person with a baby how tired you are. Of course, new parents don’t have the monopoly on exhaustion, but for the love of all that’s holy – just give it to them. They are honestly only just hanging on.

And while my mothers “empathy” rankled she then said something that gave me pause “sometimes I wish for just a short stay in hospital, nothing serious of course, just a little rest.” Read more

How not to worry about the little stuff

We all feel it. Those times when we are unsettled. Perhaps a few things haven’t gone our way. Little things hold fast and refuse to let go. An equilibrium is unsettled and unwelcome thoughts keep rising despite being pushed down. It’s when we know we shouldn’t sweat the small stuff and yet the small stuff is dripping out of our pores. The word discombobulated comes to mind. That itchy, unpleasant discomfort. I’m not talking about the big issues here. I’m not talking about grief or loss. This isn’t a post about what to do when something shakes your life. This is about how to wrest control back from the pesky little thoughts that have no business taking up so much mind space. Read more