Perfectly Imperfect 


There aren’t many people on the planet that won’t have heard of Tony Robbins. I’m not entirely sure of all of his official credentials, but he’s seen as some “King of Coaches”legend.

The man is known worldwide and I am sure that thousands (at least) of people would tout him as someone who has had a positive impact on their lives. So for that I salute him, because hey, I’d love to be known for having a positive impact on people too.

However, this morning on FB someone had shared a post of his. The title of which was “New Year = A New Life”….I’m sorry, but what complete and utter bullshit.

Just how exactly is that possible? Suddenly waking up on January the 1st means the shitty slate has been wiped clean? To me, that title, that headline if you will, is totally unrealistic and a tad irresponsible.

In general, my theory is that most people want a quick fix, they are looking for the magic pill, potion or formula to transform their lives….spoiler alert – IT DOESNT EXIST!

I’m sorry but this world we live in of instant fixes and metaphorical band aids pisses me off. So for someone with as much clout as TR to trot out that huge gem of hope to the masses is infuriating to me.

Now I am 100% for people wanting to change their lives, I would happily be head of the cheerleading team for anyone that wants to move forward, to break free from something, to become unstuck. I would love to be the person that could help to facilitate that. But, that change is not as simple as waking up on the first day of the year hoping for the best.

If we really REALLY want those things, then we have to work to get them. That work isn’t always pleasant. It can be draining, emotional and fraught. Digging about under the surface will always uproot something. Whilst that notion is uncomfortable and scary for many, it’s exactly what is needed to get that person on the road to where they need or want to be.

I saw a program not so long ago about our reliance as a nation on painkillers and antibiotics. Go to the Doctors, get a prescription and all is well again. However those pills we all shovel down are very often just covering something up, something bigger that really needs looking at. The pills will make it better for a while, but sooner or later you’ll be making another appointment for that ultimate cover up.

It takes guts, grit and honesty to find your cure, your genuine way forward, it also takes time. There is no perfect day, or perfect start. So why not just start anyway? However, rather than starting with that flashing beacon of “A New Life” dazzling your retinas, start where you are, with what you have available.

It might not be glamorous, elegant, seamless. It definitely won’t be a smooth newly tarmaced pavement, there will be spots where you could trip or stumble, a hole where you might fall down and scrape your knee, and it’ll probably happen when someone else is around to see it so your pride will be hurt as well as your body. It will however be you. The real you, with all your fucked up beautiful imperfections.

It is the start of a new year, but every new day is that blank page you’re waiting for. It doesn’t need to be a certain day on a calendar, and if that’s what you’re waiting on, then you’ll never do anything. You will end up in ‘Groundhog Hell’ year after year of promising yourself so much, and actually doing fuck all.

This is your life racing by, your one precious life, and it’s disappearing in a fog of missed opportunities and failed expectations, because circumstances weren’t perfect enough for you to actually make that change.

So if you are already thinking that on Jan 2nd the sparkle is fading then listen up. You will not get infinite New Years to change things, that illusion needs to be shattered and swept up like shards of glass. If you are ready, and I mean really ready then you will make a change, and keep your own promises. You will get off the sofa and work out, you will quit your shit job that destroys your soul, you’ll pack in the cancer sticks, stop getting smashed every weekend, stop shagging the wrong people…the list of ‘things we want to change’ is endless. The change will always ALWAYS start with you. Not with the chiming of Big Ben, not with the turning of a page in a calendar, and not from any guru.

X

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Resolution Free


Well here we are, NYE is upon us. Along with the usual celebrations, its a time when a lot of people will be reflecting on what’s been and gone, and looking forward to what lies ahead.

For me, NYE is one of the greatest examples of the importance of living in the moment. There is no going back, no changing the events that have unfolded, and equally, there is no way to see forward. No way of looking through that door and viewing the days to come.

All we can do is enjoy the now, as much as possible. Of course, there is a place and time for reflection, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with looking ahead with hope and positivity. I’ve had a moment of that myself this morning, but in terms of how we live our lives daily, all that exists is the present.

I’m sure a lot of you will be making New Years resolutions for 2017, if that works for you then great. Perhaps you could write a book telling the rest of us how to make a success of them.

Me, I gave up making resolutions a while ago now. I don’t like how they make me feel. Somehow they stifle me, making me feel like I’ve put unwarranted pressure on myself before the year has even begun. I  happy to admit I’ve promised the following things in the past……

1. I will not drink for the first 3 months of the year (failed by end of first week)

2. I will go to the gym 5 x a week (oh that’s right, I loathe the gym)

3. I will swear less (fuck that, it’s one of my favourite things)

4. I will be super organised and never forget a birthday/anniversary etc (oh you didn’t get the card? Bloody Royal Mail)

5. I’ll cut down on cups of tea (totally unreasonable, I am at least 40% Tetley)

It simply doesn’t work. I’ve never gone to bed on NYE and woken up on NYD a brand new shiny and perfect version of me. Letting go of that illusion of “overnight transformation” was such a refreshing thing for me.

What I do believe in is focus, and being realistic about my expectations. I know the importance of being honest with myself about the dreams and goals that I have. I do have a list, not of resolutions, but of ‘aims’. Now, those don’t all need to be divulged in public, but I am heading into the new year with a fire in my belly that is newly ignited and without fear holding me back.

I did an exercise recently that my own coach set me. Write a summary of the year, the twist was to write it as if I was already at the end of 2017. This turned out to be a hugely powerful exercise for me, it moved me to read back my “vision” of the next 12 months, and I am actually using it to assist me in forging ahead. Using visualisation is a really great tool for me, and in moments of uncertainty or lethargy, it helps me to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I know what I want, I’m clear on how hard it’s going to be, and the work involved, but I have the support of those that actually matter, and I have the courage of my convictions. That for me is enough.

So my resolution is to never make a resolution again. I’m pretty sure that’s one that I can and will stick to.

Dream big guys and a very Happy New Year to all of you, whatever it may hold

X

2016 I Thank You


It would seem that everywhere you look people are slating 2016, cries of “can’t wait to see the back of this one” or “its been the worst year ever” are in abundance. I don’t pretend to know what each individual has gone through this year, for some it may genuinely have been the worst year of their lives, and if thats the case then I sincerely hope that the next 12 months are kinder to you. For the rest of us however, is there just a touch over ‘over dramatisation’ going on here?

As humans it is a fact that we are predisposed to believe and/or listen to the negative, this is a basic primal instinct as it helps us to survive, but we are no longer cave dwellers, we live in houses built of brick, with heating, lighting and hopefully a well stocked fridge, times have moved on, and maybe our thinking needs to as well.

The year has been smattered with the passing of some of the highest public profile names, people that should still be here, but for reasons beyond any of our control, they aren’t anymore. We’ve had Brexit which apparently wasn’t what was wanted, we’re waiting for the new age of Trump to begin, which is also seemingly a hugely unpopular result, but thats whats happening.

Do those things though therefore mean that MY life has been shit this year? Not at all, 2016 will always be a year I remember, because it has brought about one undeniable fact. Things have changed, I have changed, and change is the thing that a lot of us struggle with.

We sit in our little bubbles, politely ambling along, living out our lives in our set in stone routines. We don’t like it when anything threatens the status quo. Why so fearful though? Whats wrong with shaking things up?

In April of this year I suffered a miscarriage, a heavy blow to both myself and my husband, a loss that will be etched into both of our hearts forever, that baby should be here now, but they aren’t, and they never will be. That fact hurts like hell. For that reason alone I could join the ‘we hate 2016’ masses, but I refuse to. That event, as horrible as it was, started a chain of other events that have led to wonderful things for me, and for us.

I am not the same person I was before our miscarriage, neither is my husband. It was the first thing in a long time that really shook us up, as people in our own right, and as a couple. Would I want to go back to being that person now? Absolutely not. She needed a kick up the arse and she got it, she needed to realise that simply ambling along was never going to be enough, and that as solid as her foundations were, there was always that something out there that could come along and move her in ways she never thought possible.

It seems strange to look back now at the beginning of the year, both of us believing that we would sail into parenthood with the greatest of ease, how foolish we were. Why should that have happened? Why should we be exempt from pain? Why should any of us be?

There is injustice all around us, thats a Wet Wet Wet song that never took off *mood lightener there*. That injustice doesn’t discriminate. It’ll wait for us to feel at our most secure and then come along and try to ruin it. So how do we deal with that?

“Wherever there is dark, there will be light” This is something I truly believe, as its been proven to me time and time again. It is within us to take something painful and use it to our advantage, we always, always have a choice. Let it consume you and beat you, or use it to move yourself forward, onto a better place, filled with things you never dreamt becoming a reality.

After our miscarriage I needed two things, one was to talk to someone I didn’t know, to be able to spew out all the hideousness swirling round in my head, and secondly I needed a holiday.

These needs led me to seeking out a life coach, and booking a week away in Portugal. Both of these things were also life changing. My coach Liz, not only helped me to process and deal with my thoughts around our loss, but also to put a load of other shit to bed that I had merely been hiding under the bed for years. Things that would have continued to always hold me back. My work with her has had a hugely positive impact, I am now training to be a life coach myself, something that I would NEVER have found the guts to do without going through that process. It also made me love myself, as I genuinely struggled with that notion beforehand. Voices from the past plagued me constantly, and via Liz, I have silenced them.

In Portugal we fell pregnant again. Its amazing what some sunshine and relaxation can do for the mind, body and soul. We are now just over 28 weeks and our baby is due in March next year. There are no words for the happiness and excitement we both feel at the prospect of our child coming into the world.

Neither of these positives have been easy though, the coaching meant being really fucking honest about stuff and facing things I had managed to avoid for decades. It was tough, really tough. Falling pregnant again has also been fraught with anxiety. Getting through those first 3 months were like walking on thin ice, I was terrified of one wrong foot placement and falling through into the freezing depths beneath. History repeating itself was always at the forefront of my mind, and never let either of us rest.

I guess my point is, that in order for joy to occur there must always be sorrow, one cannot exist without the other. If you live your life thinking that’s the case, then you are heading for a fall. None of us are exempt from anguish, from devastation and grief. However, none of us are excluded from moments of life affirming beauty and wonder. Its all part of LIVING and not just existing.

2016, I thank you for the lessons you have forced me to learn, for the discomfort you pushed me into which has in turn enabled me to break free and become unstuck. I also thank you for your rewards, those gems that mean my life is brighter than it has ever been before.

To all of you reading this, I wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas, Buon Natale, and Joyeux Noel if thats your bag, if not then I wish light and love for you regardless of your faith.

Go forward with your eyes open, don’t shy away from the scary and uncomfortable and if they come looking for you, use them as best as you can. You’ll never know where they could move you onto unless you embrace them.

x

 

 

 

Confessions of This Blogger


I have to fess up, and I’m fessing up to something I didn’t even know I’d been doing until yesterday.

I was getting ready to go to a friends and watching some of Jason Silvas posts on FB, he was talking about love, and learning, music and sorrow, and I resonated with every single word. It’s so outside of our normal chatter, I never hear anyone talk the way he does, but that’s how I talk internally, and how I’d love to talk openly as well.

I’ve realised that I’ve been holding back in my blog posts. When this blog was born I wanted it to be raw, and real. Whilst there has been no occurrence of bullshit, and everything I’ve written is from the heart, there are layers to that and I’ve definitely been staying near the surface.

My posts “Ode to Squash” and “An Open Letter to My Husband” were the exception to that, they were my heart, my bones, my tears on a page, and they are the posts I’m most proud of. They aren’t contrived and watered down, they are me in all my glory, or as near to it as I’ve allowed myself to go so far.

So why have I been doing this? Because I’ve let myself be scared, scared that I’ll be judged. That if I spill my real thoughts and feelings out in this place then I’ll be ridiculed. I’m quite proud of this realisation. For me it means I’m growing as a person, I know my shortcomings, and caring about what others think is one of them.

Why do I give a shit? Because I don’t want to be laughed at, I don’t want muttering behind my back, for someone to tell me that I’m OTT or too intense, that I should tone things down. The thing is, that bigger than those concerns is the thought that I also don’t want my tones to be muted, I want vibrant, out there and in your face. I want to stop people in their tracks and make them think.

It’s one of the reasons I’m training to do what I am, because I want people to wake up. To see colours instead of greys, to recognise fear, put their arms around it and say “I’m going to use you as motivation, and not as an excuse not to try”, to smash through the walls they’ve put up around them and be all they can be.

That’s what I want for me too, to live bravely, to know that nothing is certain, nothing is within my control and to just fucking go for it. Even by writing this post I am making myself more exposed, I am starting the process of peeling back my own layers to the “me” that sits in turmoil under all the day to day crap and small talk.

I don’t want half measures or lukewarm. I want a cup running over and red hot instead. I want the big conversations, about stuff that matters, about thinking outside of my own parameters.

I want to talk about the beauty I see in things, and also the pain, the darkness and the light. To indulge myself in those big moments that we all notice, but even more so in those little things that only I see. I want and need to do that in a way that leaves nothing unsaid, no stone unturned, no note unplayed.

This has to be real, and authentic and full of truth. It will mean being unapologetic, unashamed and most importantly, it’ll mean being unafraid. There are tears while I write this, like I’ve got out of my own way a little bit more. It feels as though I’ve suddenly given myself permission to do this, to push the limits of what I believe I’m capable of.

If people do mock, then bollocks to them. They don’t have to read or follow, how they feel about my writing or who I am as a human being shouldn’t leave me feeling suppressed or hemmed in, that’s their stuff and not mine. If friends laugh and belittle, then they aren’t people I need or want around me anyway. From now on there will be more, more of me, my dreams, worries, hopes, joys and regrets.

To write this blog halfheartedly would be a huge waste, because I know it’s worth it. Worth it for me and worth it for the others out there, those others unsettled by the rapids coursing through them, who currently feel crushed by the weight of what they aren’t saying, who look at the stars and wonder so much.

Fear is being replaced by excitement, hope and courage. Speak your truth, speak it loudly with conviction, speak from your depths.

X

The Story So Far


When I set this blog up, one of the things I wanted to write about was my journey to being a life coach. Its just occurred to me that so far I’ve not written anything in this area.

I’m not sure if thats been intentional, you see, my coaching is like my baby, well my other baby as opposed to the actual baby thats currently cooking nicely in my tum. I’m very proud of my coaching already, and feel quite protective of it. It feels very precious and I am truly very lucky to get the opportunity to do this.

The only reason I am able to do this is because I had coaching myself, my coach is a wonderful person who quite frankly helped me to change my life. I got the chance to meet her in October, and know she will be integral in my developing career.

Its through my work with her that I had my lightbulb moment to make the move into coaching, I knew I wanted to do something meaningful, I knew that I wanted to stop people from getting in their own way, and help them get to where they want or need to be.

I am a huge advocate of coaching, and I genuinely believe its something that everyone could do with in their lives, the wonderful thing is, its such diverse role, there’s room for everyone to have their space, there are so many different shapes and size of coach out there. So there is bound to be one thats right for you.

My coaching course started in October, I had been to an introductory day a few weeks prior, and left there feeling on top of the world. I knew that finally, I was on the right path. My husband said he had never seen me lit up like that before, I guess that says it all really.

The course is pretty involved, theres a lot of work that has to go into it and its very time consuming, but I don’t begrudge that at all, its all time well spent, and as tired as I am, I am also loving every second of it. Its so wonderful to be learning again, my brain is engaged and focused for the first time in a long time.

I’m training with an awesome group of people, seriously I feel very lucky to be on the same ride as them, they are all very supportive, as are the guys running the course. I honestly think they will all be great assets to the coaching profession.

And it is a profession, I know that a lot of people look down their noses at coaching, as many people did with psychotherapy in the 50’s, but it is becoming more widely recognised, even some universities are adding coaching qualifications to their curriculums.

Prior to coaching, I had been through two lots of counselling at different times in my life, and while it helped, I don’t think I got anywhere near as much out of it as I did with coaching. That may not be the case for everyone, and I salute all counsellors out there for doing wonderful work. I’m simply saying that there are alternatives.

Part of my course involves me coaching practice clients for a total of 40 hours, I am 15 hours in and can already see and feel such a  big difference from session 1 to where I am now. I see it as a huge privilege to work with my clients, I care about each one of them, and I really want them to get as much out of this process as possible. Its truly amazing to see the changes in them week after week, as we explore different things in our sessions. Its also amazing that they then go away and put in the hard work in their free time.

Feedback so far has been really positive, I don’t really do airy fairy, I’m a bit more, well ‘potty mouthed’ and bare bones in my approach. I am very comfortable with whatever my clients bring to the table, and even though its early days, nothing so far has phased me.

Thats one thing about coaching, its a collaborative experience. Its not a case of giving answers, its a case of peeling back the layers and finding those things that are holding us back, stopping us from moving forward and keeping us rooted to an unhelpful spot. If I can do that with someone, if I can be that space where they can really open up, really deal with their own shit and put it to bed, then I’ve done what I set out to do.

I’m just at the beginning of this stage of my life, I have learnt a lot already, but there is so much more to learn. Its a bit of a ‘sponge like’ time for me at the moment. I’m doing full weekend study once a month, coaching in the evenings, participating in coaching webinars, and also reading as much as I can to help complement my training.

I’ve noticed differences in me as well, I am listening a lot more, really listening. My thought processes are changing, how I deal with and react to things are so different to how they were a few months ago. I’m incorporating mindfulness into my coaching and I think this is also key to those changes.

I want to be the absolute best at this that I can be, I am full of ideas for my coaching practice, I try to visualise it as much as possible as I believe thats a really powerful tool. I have unwavering belief that the people that come to me have the ability to be who they are, change what they need to, and move forward to a more fulfilling life.

Before I had coaching I was so afraid of so many things, and I know that I never would have got to this new place of learning, creativity and change without it. So I am living proof that it does indeed work. I am looking ahead to my future with buckets of enthusiasm and hope, and I can’t wait to see where I am this time next year.

x

 

 

Don’t Call Me Baby

Whats in a name? We all have them, we meet someone, they introduce themselves as ‘insert name here’ we say nice to meet you and we move on.

So why is it baby names are so different? In a few months my husband and I will be tasked with naming a person, thats a pretty big responsibility. There’s so much to consider.

First of all, does it suit them? When I popped out (I’m sure it wasn’t that lovely) my Mum decided to call me Rachel as I didn’t look like a Becca, thats not Rebecca, just Becca…I’m eternally grateful that she changed her mind as with my red hair I’m sure i would have ended up being called Boris at school, and that was painful enough anyway.

Secondly, what does it rhyme with? Lets face it, we hope that we all raise kind, compassionate children. But, children can be nasty, all children are capable of saying something mean, and name rhyming is up there at the top of the list….Smelly Kelly is the first one that springs to mind from my youth, and she probably didn’t smell at all, but to children that can be the funniest thing ever.

Then theres the celebrity element. How many Brooklyn’s were registered post the arrival of the Beckhams first? I’d hate to be accused of copying because a name was popular in the media. Although saying that how many Apple’s were registered? I’m going to hazard a guess it wasn’t that many. And there, right there in that last sentence, is my judgement coming out to join the party.

For me thats the biggest thing of all, peoples preconceived notions of a name and what it means to them. Did they go to school with someone who was a bully with that name? Has their partner got an ex with that name? Well thats a no-no for sure. What about a horrible boss, or neighbour, or again someone in the media. You see, its a massive thing to put a name on a certificate for someone else and hope that its right for them.

We’ve told a few people our chosen names, and we have backups too. So I hope that when bambino arrives we’ll choose well. A name can never be to everyones taste, and thats another thing. People actually say that shit out loud. We have nicknamed my bump Norm, this is because we don’t know the sex and so there could be a Norma or a Norman in there. When I told my mum this she said “well I’m not sure about those names dear”. First of all she didn’t listen, and secondly if i had have totally loved the name Norman then I might have felt like my choice was wrong and that I needed to change it.

Complete minefield clearly. However, I guess its important to remember that despite there being a certain amount of names, we as people are all individuals, and that the name we go by doesn’t define us. I’m taking a lesson out of this, next time someone tells me their baby name I’ll just smile and say “how lovely”, for its absolutely none of my business. What matters is not the name, not who its linked to, or what my thoughts are about it, but the actual person instead, the life thats new and innocent and can be whatever and whoever it wants to be….thats the crucial thing. Still, I really am glad about that Becca thing

x

Body Swap

Not so long ago, I wrote a post shouting cheerfully about how I was sailing through my pregnancy. No horrible sickness, not looking like a marshmallow etc etc.

However in recent weeks I’ve felt a shift. Actually its more to do with what I see than a feeling, and that vision is bewildering.

Before getting pregnant I was, without question in the best shape of my life. I was lean, strong, had actual abs (there’s even a picture to prove it) and felt pretty fucking good in my own skin. It was hugely empowering for me, because I had grafted for months and sacrificed a lot to get to that point. Never in my life had I particularly liked my reflection, but for a brief period in time, I really really did.

In a way it made me feel like I had won out over the bullies I had previously encountered. Those people that had told me I was ugly, fat, useless and far far worse. Those that had harmed my self belief and self worth in ways I still can’t explain. In the process of physically transforming, my mind had transformed too. I liked having my photo taken, the family chins and pudgy edges of my face had gone. The long curly hair I had sported for 20 years was chopped off into a bob, the hemlines got shorter, and the clothes more figure hugging. Honestly I felt like I was totally rocking it.

My husband and I had decided last Christmas (no singing) that we would start trying for a family. After suffering our own heartbreak in that area in April when we miscarried, we had a time out and then tried again. I’m now 24 weeks, and everything so far is going well.

The thing is, lately I’ve been feeling odd about my figure, that’s probably as good a word as any to use. When I look in the mirror I feel super proud of my bump, I absolutely adore it, knowing that my body is providing a healthy, safe space to grow our baby is a wonderful privilege, and I wouldn’t change where I am now for anything. However, there are down sides.

Those have been showing themselves to me in the last 3 weeks in particular. It’s very hard to describe, but I am sure that millions of women out there will resonate with some, if not all of this.

My body is no longer my own, it isn’t something I can train hard 6 times a week, it isn’t something that slides into a size 8 with ease, right now it is entirely functional, and it’s functioning for another human being. I am expanding, the abs disappeared weeks ago, my hips are widening, my face is fuller (damn & blast) so once again anyone wielding a camera can fuck right off, and I look shitting knackered most of the time.

I remember seeing Demi Moore on the cover of Vanity fair when she was pregnant with her daughter and thinking that if ever I was pregnant, that’s the way I’d want to do it. I’d revel in my amazing body, embrace all my new curves and feel totally sexy. When the reality couldn’t be further from that. I don’t feel sexy, I feel frumpy. I’m not embracing my new curves, I’m feeling bloody awkward about them, and with 16 weeks still to go, I know those changes are only going to become more and more apparent.

There’s something else too, my reflection and my perception of that image are playing tricks on my mind. I’m anxious, that’s nothing new, but there is a new fearfulness about it that I can’t shake. It’s no secret to those that know me that I think my husband is a grade A hottie. Many times I’ve wondered how he chose me, when, to my mind, he could have had his pick of the ladies.

That little niggle that I had put to bed years ago now, has decided it’s time to get up and get busy. It’s official, I feel insecure.

Last Friday we went to the pub, there’s a new barmaid there. A younger than me and very attractive barmaid….and she noticed him, and quickly too. To be fair he’s 6ft 4 so he does stand out, but as soon as I clocked her clocking him I felt sick to my stomach. For the record, I trust my husband implicitly, and if it was 12 months ago she wouldn’t have even been a blip on the radar. Now though, I feel threatened, like he could be taken away, because I’m the frumpy and emotional wife right now, not the fun loving & ballsy one he fell for.

In many ways I feel our union is stronger than ever, we are happy, we love each other and we’ve created life, the majority of the time those thoughts make me feel invincible. Sometimes though, the devil on my shoulder whispers to me that he’ll get fed up of this and go after something freer, someone that doesn’t cry every day and look like they need a weeks worth of sleep, someone that doesn’t leave things half done because they forget about them, and someone that can go past 9pm without falling asleep on the sofa.

I guess that one positive I can take from this is that I am aware of how I’m feeling, I also know that it’s all down to hormones, and that hopefully in another few months, I’ll start to feel back to my old self. I do wonder about my post baby body. I’m not niaive enough to think it’ll ever be as it was before, but what will it be like? Will I have those infamous Tiger Stripes you hear so many women talking about, will I ever have a flat stomach again? What about the old pelvic floor, will I ever be able to laugh without fear of an accident? Am I going to find it a nightmare to shed the baby weight…for anyone’s that cares I’m up 17lbs already. All very real fears for me right now. Perhaps one day I’ll look back at this and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. But in this moment, it’s a scary unknown quantity, and I’m not a fan.

I guess I’m writing all this down so it’s not in my head, but also to be honest about what this process is like, that whilst on the outside you might look and sound like you are winning at bump life, in truth you are floundering a little bit. Caught somewhere between the woman you were and the mother you are becoming.

X