The Invisibility Myth 13 - Not Dead Yet Awakenings

Finally coffee was served

➨The morning ritual remains the same wherever I am - turn on BBC Radio 4 (long wave only as i'm currently in France) and make coffee.  A thirty something woman is saying she wishes she could go back in time and give her bulimic/self harming/laxative addicted young self a hug and tell her how beautiful she is, and how there was no need for all that self-loathing. Yesterday I was flicking through old issues of The Sunday Times Style magazine - June 2017 is all about fun in the sun with a colourful photo of what looks like two thirteen year old girls in bright swimwear accompanying a piece about what we ADULTS should be wearing on the beach this summer.

WTF?

These flat chested, skinny waifs pout off the page at me and I feel my irritation growing.  I continue flicking…Avocado art is on the way down apparently, but ‘porerexia’, an obsession with the size of the pores on ones face is on the up - who’d have thought either of those was a thing?

 Next up; The Changing Shape of me - from size 8 twenty something to size 18 mother. Thankfully a more uplifting story, but still riddled with angst. Next headline; Fail at breastfeeding - a woman recalls the overwhelming pressure to be a perfect mother in those first few weeks because she couldn’t produce enough milk. Over the page an M&S advertisement inviting you to “hang up, your hang ups’ whilst wearing their slimming swimwear.  All your insecurities fed off and into by the media, will momentarily vanish as you jump off that rock in your fuchsia pink (rather lush) swimming costume….as if.

I decide to gloss over the killer teens headline article and the young people claiming that Harry Potter saved their lives…..I have a quick scan of India Knight telling me it’s ok to put my life before a career - thanks for that positive affirmation India.  All these mixed messages and my coffee hasn’t even cooled down enough to drink yet…Bugger it. I’m stripping off to bake my bones in the glorious sun - stretch marks, bingo wings, gaping pores n all. It’s more life-affirming than the media, despite the skin ageing/cancer risk. At least my vitamin d levels will be topped up….

My own British Bakeoff

➨In the interest of research, I bought the first issue of a new French magazine; 50 & Plus Le Mag.

I spent ages painfully translating the articles and I found the content more uplifting and refreshing than all the English magazines I’ve been trawling whilst out here in the French countryside…On the cover is a well groomed but ‘normal' looking sixty year old French woman. The main tagline is: Le bonheur commence apres 50 ans!  With not a plastic surgery story in sight, it concentrates on the personal individual attempt to attain well being and happiness in all areas of life. We should be taking a lesson from their format…. Which has given me (via my man and yet more coffee)  a brainstorming, fizzing idea - YAY - a positive from initially negative train of thought!!!  I shall report back….

➨Is it any wonder we have lives riddled with insecurity and confusion, when this stuff can reach us even if we ignore the magazines. It sneaks into our brain subliminally via our peripheral vision on headlines and advertisement hoardings.  It is hard and sometimes isolating to keep walking to the beat of your own drum, especially as a young person when pressure is applied to be doing it all and having it all. I am aware that the same constant vigilance is needed to keep my almost 61yr old equilibrium in check as it did at 17yr when I left a toxic home to start my life adventure. I think that this well of experience good and bad is a major advantage of age, when it comes to cracking on.

➨It is with great pleasure that I can say personally I’ve found new ground to explore, a new richness and fullness to my life via the wonders of such groups as  wearingwellbeing.com, theadvantagesofage.com, the forever fierce Angie Weihs at The Ageless Rebel and the joy filled Colour Walkers of Spitalfields market and beyond. Happy day! Dipping in and out of their ‘gangs’, (I can be a little capricious in my loyalty!) hearing and sharing stories of life and loves is like a big therapy session, without any need to attach labels.

 Meeting up at events and embarking on new friendships is enriching, entertaining, questioning, challenging and FUN.  Proving It is never to late to meet new people play and work wise and experience new adventures - some of them life-changing catalysts.  

 ➨This Invisbility Myth project of mine is taking me to a whole new confident place in my life, opening doors and prompting me to re-asses and close others. There is such a wealth of talent and wisdom amongst us, the baby boomer generation, so much of it accumulated by the access we had in the 60’s and 70’s to self-determination and the road to equality.  Asking any one of the people i’ve met recently that irritating question “what do you do?” is pointless - we are all polymaths these days, with so many multiple layers determining the bigger picture of who we are. This zeitgeist movement of strong minded older people is set to grow bigger and bigger as we live on from now to somewhere in infinity.  How utterly EXCITED am I…can you tell? !!!…..

Now, what was that piece I saw about substance abuse and STI’s among the older generation?????…Yes, I really did…. 

The Invisibility Myth part 12 - Failed Samaritan moi?

➨Negative language is never helpful in the quest for self - no shit Sherlock. For me it's been a personal learning curve that’s lasted many years and led to more self-flagellation than I would freely admit to...I don't find masochism a pleasurable experience. 

➨On a wet Monday morning recently a 1991 life memory came to me, which started a whole train of initially negative language and thinking:

  

I was 34, newly married, new baby, new life, new me. I decided I wanted to be a Samaritan, so I signed up for the in-house training sessions. I fail the final test. It never occurred to me that I would…  Apparently I sounded bored on the telephone and even though I was great with the face to face stuff (actors acting out grim scenarios) my phone voice sounded bored. I did feel it was a tad judgmental as you can only get so much nuance into the words: “Samaritans how can I help you”, but rules is rules I suppose. 

➨Before I had given birth I had signed up to start an Environmental Studies Degree. Three assignments in and I dissolved into a pile of blubbering snotty tears having to admit that I couldn’t  deal with the enforced loss of my previous business, a new life, a new baby, and a degree.

That word - fail niggled away at my self-worth. Was this altogether remotely surprising, unexpected or unusual? No of course not, but it didn’t stop me beating myself up.

➨Ten months after giving birth I enrolled on a business development course and used as my small business concept the idea of frozen fresh, organic baby food.  The working title was Baby Organix - at a time when fresh frozen food for babies was unheard of. Did I follow through past the development, drawing up a profit/loss account stage? Nope. A few months later the trend for this kind of product took off big time, making the few who followed through gazillionaires. Oh well, fail again. Reality check - could I/would I/did I want to spend 23 hours a day making it work? No I didn’t, because what I really wanted to do was learn how to be a good enough mother.  At that point in my life I was competing with myself to prove that I could do it all, have it all, be it all, with babe in arms. Zap, Bang, Pow, Frickin Wonder Woman...

➨I was so desperate to contribute a little financially that I often failed to benefit from living in the moment. This continued even after having my second child. Most of my peers had returned to their former careers, leaving me with the impression of being the most invisible and insecure I have ever felt in my life. Then, after years of volunteering in various capacities other than The Samaritans, taking odd jobs here and there to pay for holidays and extras, my man often working away from home leaving me to juggle with the parenting thing, what is now recognised as the peri-menopause kicked in and robbed me of my forties. What a shame I didn’t know what I know now: Motherhood was actually the unravelling and re-making of me on a deep, profound level. My own re-birth of sorts. Instead, many things physical, mental, real and imagined froze my development and sense of self. Flipping hormones were on overdrive, a runaway train driving me into uncharted territory. Lordy it was horrible - like the worst bits of being a teenager all over again, with responsibility...

➨At the age of 50 the fog palpably lifted, albeit with the welcome help of hormone patches! I finally came alive again and things started to make sense.  My confidence returned, the anxiety departed and I felt like a newly emerged version of my old self, the me who was comfortable - even proud of the successes and failures in my life. I felt liberated, strong and in my prime. It’s that literal and metaphorical carrying of scars thing;  they show you have survived, which is an incredibly empowering and comforting realisation. I could see the short periods I now have of negative thinking as another fail, but the enlightened me sees it as a necessary part of the journey - one side of the coin.  To dwell too long on the darker moments without at least finding personal growth from it would be a sad waste.

 ➨I currently have two years of a Humanities Degree completed with really good marks, I am totally committed to my new project The Invisibility Myth, a topic which perfectly encompasses and embraces my life journey and experience. I’m meeting amazing people through the wonders of Instagram and being an Airbnb host.  My man and I are spending more time as a couple once more and this means working positively around and along with the various health issues that age has sprung upon us.  Re-connecting with one another and returning to our love of  global wandering, going to gigs, drinking coffee together and binge watching Netflix series is somewhat different from our young life together, but not in a negative way. My wonderful family are now mainly happy and self-reliant, off writing their own life scripts, so it is time to give myself permission to pursue my creativity without boundaries... No such word to me now as fail - by eventually  selecting the right attitude, I have been able to change my perceptions, not only for myself, but also to help empower and bring out the best in others, which is in and of itself a source of great satisfaction and pleasure. Learning, learning, learning.  This week it's been about wearing well being - a whole new, colourful and enlightening experience! 

Cue WhatsApp message from Fam member asking whats for supper, another asking whats happening with the Chrismukkah family play; Macbeth the Musical (don’t ask),  the Airbnb guest politely pointing out that her bed has sagged in one corner, closely followed by pooch yakking up, tyre going flat on car and the kitchen roof springing a leak in the August rain. Hmm, think I may need staff and a bit of positive affirmation...Practice what you preach woman...