I am brave, I am bruised, I am who I’m meant to be. This. Is. Me.
It’s amazing how the lyrics of songs seem to help you and relate to you when you need them the most. I love music, I love songs. Well written songs speak to you because they come from the heart, they tell a story, they share genuine emotion and are somebody’s raw feelings laid out bare. This song is from one of my fave soundtracks from one of my favourite musicals.
I was blasting it in the car on the way home from an impromptu play date and coffee with one of my favourites. One who always speaks truthfully to me, one that gives me the push in the right direction when I need it. In fact her another have given me what I needed this weekend. They can both read me like a book and have said and done just what I needed. They get it, they got it this weekend and they gave me what I needed. So then hearing this uplifting feel good, remember who you and are what you can achieve song lyrics were just the icing on the cake. Especially when toddler P clapped the end of the track and said, “I like that one mummy, it’s my fravrourite” (I especially like her extra R in the word favourite, seems give it extra passion).
My nearest and dearest know of recent weeks I’ve not been myself, I’ve been struggling a bit and it’s not really been clear with what. To a certain extent I’m a glutton for punishment and almost find something to get worked up over if there isn’t anything. Then one of my friends this weekend reminded me of something important. What I’ve been through and how bad that actually was. Her words, “it was a trauma, a big one and coming back from it will take a lot and to a certain extent it won’t fully go away, but you’ll learn to get better at coping when something triggers an upset again.” She reminded me of how much I’ve been through and that whilst it’s important I don’t dwell on it, it’s also important not to be too hard on myself on how quickly I heal. That it was a big deal for a long time and that it will take time to recover from it. She also reminded me of how far I’ve come, how strong I am and more importantly how lucky I am. How not every woman in my situation walks away as easily as I did, as safely as I did or even walks away at all…
She reminded me of how hard I have fought to be where I am now. To have the peace, the calm, the happiness, the normality, the mundane and the routine. She reminded me of what I’ve overcome. She reminded me of the daily fear, anxiousness, disappointment, suppression and loneliness I felt, how trapped I felt. Then she also reminded me of the humour, the freedom, the love and the bloody good friends and support I have now. She reminded me of my new found confidence and no more shit taking attitude I have. She reminded me of the toddler P sass and lust for life I deep down have.
It can get really hard and frustrating can life, it get difficult, you can get bogged down with the hard stuff. What some people did for me this weekend though was once again remind me of my worth but also they taught me how to cut myself some slack. They reinforced and supported my feelings and thoughts around it not being my fault, it being unfair that I had to suffer as I did and that it’s ok to still be upset and angry that I had to go through all that. They agreed that I’ve to be kinder to myself and acknowledge that what I went through and how far I’ve come are not to be forgotten.
I guess it’s one of those cases of keep talking, keep going, keep working through it. Raise awareness, raise support, for me and for others. Keep asking for help, keep reaching out. Keep remembering the good things, keep acknowledging and celebrating the success, the survival, the moving on and the achievement of saying, “no, I won’t be hurt anymore!” And most importantly to keep not letting myself be hurt anymore. Not letting anyone get inside my head, under my skin, not letting anyone spoil mine and lady P’s time.
I am who I am now. My experience has shaped me, it’s shaped me for the better. It’s left me bruised and battered but those scars have made me stronger, they’ve given me better knowledge, understanding, empathy and most importantly some selfishness. I might be a little broken and bent, but that is me and with that comes someone braver and wiser. I might wobble and fall of kilter a little but that’s life, it’s a rocky road. I don’t need to patch up the scars or hide the memories like skeletons in a closet. They’re not things to be forgotten, they’re things to remember because they’ve turned me into who I am now. They’re not to be embarrassed or ashamed of, they’ve taught me invaluable lessons about life and putting myself and toddler P first.
I’ve learnt and I am learning a lot more about giving myself what I need. Even if it’s a small think like choosing to read a book over cleaning the windows in order to escape for a little while. I’m learning to only invest my time and energy into the people and things that matter. I’m learning to brush off the small things, I’m learning to look and focus more carefully on people’s actions and behaviour over their words. I’m learning to prioritise the things I enjoy, my own well being. I’m learning to be honest with myself and accept and love myself for who I am.
I know you’ve heard a lot of these things in my blog before. I’m sometimes a broken record but I sometimes need to be. I write about what I need to write about and I’ve dipped a little lately so the more I write this, the more I say it, the more I do it and believe it. Therefore the quicker I climb out of my little dip, pick myself up and dust myself down. I’ve stoked the fire in my belly back up. I’m back.
In the words of the song, I won’t let them break me down to dust. And no I won’t, even in a dip, I’ve still got my fight, it doesn’t go away, I just need a little help from my fellow army and warriors. I won’t let anything get the better of me, I’m too far on for that, I’m too far ahead and on the journey. I’m too ambitious. So look out, here I come.