My pursuit of gleaning the meaning of why things happen, rather than getting bogged down in why they happened in the first place, has always been my strong suit, a source of inspiration for those around me facing their own hardship.
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But this time around, something incredible happened. And I didn’t even realise how profound it was until I went to bed that night. I was… fine. More than fine. And that’s what I mean, acceptance just sneaks up on you, and you don’t even realise how far you’ve come and how much a situation that used to have so much power over you, no longer controls you.
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Refined over the last few months, and constantly evolving as my needs change, my ritual keeps me grounded, accountable, calm and ultimately empowered to live the life I want to live, not the life anxiety tells me I should lead.
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Three months into my chemotherapy regime, whatever relationship we had left was dissolved without repair when he left me on my knees, bald and crippled with side effects, holding a 3 month old baby while a slightly older one screamed from her high chair. I was begging him to stay - to help – but he stepped past me and straight through the door.
Some attacks have been so severe I’ve ended up in hospital, others times it’s woken me in the middle of the night, prevented me from falling asleep entirely, greeted me when I wake in the morning and followed me around all day.
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Julia was six months pregnant. She was alone in her apartment, having just split with her partner after a tumultuous relationship, when the weight of raising a baby alone dawned on her. “I remember just sitting there and saying, how is this my life? How am I pregnant and single? This wasn’t supposed to be my life,” she says.
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It’s here, as she doubles over her sink, the aftershocks of an emergency caesarian shooting through her body, she notices a missed call from her partner.
“I assumed he was just checking in… but he was calling to break up with me.” Just like that, Lisa was a single, unemployed, mother of two under three.
If I knew what I knew now, when this photo was taken exactly three years ago, on the way to a wedding with a 17 week baby Ollie in my tummy, what would I have done? Would I have changed anything?
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They’d search my face, expecting me to respond with “no, my husband is just paying for the taxi, he’ll be here in a second.” It became a fun game to watch their intrigued gaze linger a little longer than usual when I’d enthusiastically reply, “yes, it’s just us! We’ll sit right there at the window, thanks.”
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