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Will I Even Publish This? I’m Not Sure…

Writing a BlogI toyed between writing this in my journal, or just sitting down and writing direct to you. I don’t even think I’d formed the answer to that question in my head, yet here I sit, at midnight, typing away to you, my dear Monkey & Mum community.

To begin with, I’d just like to make it clear that this piece will have no world changing end. It will not conclude in a neat little summary of how all the problems I am about to lay bare will be solved, just in time, like some cliche Hollywood film.

In fact I am not even sure where this blog is going to go, or where it will end up. So it appears my dear friend, we are on this journey together – hold tight!

In The Beginning

Let me start by painting a picture. It’s midnight and I just crawled out from beneath the arm of my beautiful lover. From a bed warm with love, kindness and security. Why? Fucked if I know, but I’m going to try my darnedest to nut it out.

My first instinctive response to that question is that over the past few years I’ve had to learn to trust in me, and me alone. At first that was a lonely space, filled with fear and uncertainty. A place from which I didn’t know how to function, or how to care for myself – let alone my two darling boys. I learnt to be strong, to trust in me, and to lean on me and me alone. At times I looked for people to lean on, but they couldn’t stand the weight so I moved on, and eventually I became content and comfortable with my space. I learnt how to hold space for me.

Then He Happened

I met Lee. Big and strong, kind, respectful, and honourable. I had never met someone like him before. I was intrigued, I was curious, and I was filled with a peculiar sense of knowing. A knowing that he was the one for me. I know that sounds cliche – and I have already told you this is not going to be a Hollywood story – but somehow I did just know. Anyway it turns out I was far more intuitive than he, because like most men, he didn’t see the flaming glorious beautiful queen that was right in front of his bloody eyes… at least not straight away! Lucky for him I had intuition, and patience (well a little).

LeeYou see I’ve come to learn that as you get older, shit gets complicated. People are wounded, there’s baggage, hang-ups, and well formed ideas that a nuclear war couldn’t bring down. Some say that age brings acceptance, calmness  and a mellow attitude… but I’m beginning to think this isn’t a consequence of age at all, but simply a prerequisite for maintaining any form of relationship with aged peers. Long story short: deep down we all get fucking difficult with age.

Shit Got Real

I said in the beginning I didn’t know where I was going with this story, and I feel I’m proving that point beautifully. So let me try to push forward.

As a young adult (geez I can’t believe I no longer fit into that category!), life was rich with possibility! Love was forever, magic was an accepted fact of life, and the sky really was the limit. But life inevitably happens. Stuff goes wrong, jobs are lost, people get sick, friends move away, relationships end, hearts are broken, trust is challenged, and the magic of life is ultimately left questioned.

At this point people make a choice. They choose to get categorised into one of two groups: the glass-half-empty crew, or the glass-half-full.

Now the thing about choosing to be a glass-half-full kind of gal, is that it’s not quite as simple as just making that decision. See those fears, insecurities, and well formed (albeit probably faulty) thoughts are all still there, sitting as well formed nuggets of crap right inside your brain. So you begin to tell yourself stories to work your way around them. You create your own paths within your mind that conveniently detour these crappy soiled spots, and life seems just peachy, content in your blissful avoidance of all that mess… until that is, you meet that perfect beautiful someone. Then by some cruel act of nature, your thought patterns get detoured. Shit gets real, and suddenly they’re given no option but to venture through the – until now – closed off, mucky, dirty, soiled and very conveniently avoided areas.

Oh dear.

Lee and TessThis Brings Me To Now…

To right here. To me sitting alone in the dark at 1AM, now slightly unsure as to why I ever left that warm safe bed. It brings me to the realisation that absolutely nothing is wrong except for these blocked shitty pathways inside my own mind. The pathways that have only now become apparent because I’ve fallen in love with that beautiful someone, and I’m scared. I’m scared of letting myself go, of trusting in another person, and allowing myself to feel safe and secure in the knowledge that they have my best interests at heart.

My past has ensured that I know a level of pain and suffering which can’t be easily forgotten, and unfortunately so has his. Whilst this makes building a life together sometimes challenging, raw, and very real, I am confident that the foundation we have laid down could now weather the craziest of storms… although I hope and pray it won’t have to.

Will This Even Be Read?

I am not sure if this piece will be published or not – out of respect for Lee I will obviously get him to vet it first – but if it does, I hope that it speaks to at least someone else out there. I have endured some terrible bloody weather these last few years, and I hope I can be a light of hope or comfort to anyone else who may be experiencing something similar. Life is a series of swings and roundabouts. It’s full of a lot of crappy people who will – if you allow them to – teach you unforgettable lessons and build immeasurable strength within you, and then it’s also filled with gold shiny stars. People who deserve a space in your heart, and in your mind. People who make all the other trials and tribulations worth it. To these people I am eternally grateful.

I love you all ladies, and should this blog speak to any of you who in turn feel compelled to speak back to me, well hell I’d be honoured to talk! Hit me up via a personal message or email.

Much love, Tess

Mwah! x