Two weeks ago I turned 34, which I know is not a momentous age. It isn't a special age or even a particularly interesting one. Nothing dramatic happened on the day and it is not one that is typically associated with exciting events or life's milestones. But for me it kick started a sense of purpose and woke up an inner voice that had always been there, whispering in the background, if only I would stop and listen. I would like to say at this point that my inner voice certainly doesn't take on the form of a goddess and have silly remarks like "Oh My" on a playback loop and I also have no intention of adding to the newest genre of "mummy porn". (Very imaginative label I am sure!)
I have always wanted to write and be read but never really pushed myself to do it. I never felt grown up enough. I never felt that the life I had lived had given me enough life experience to allow me to write of others lives and feelings with authenticity. As an avid reader I know the crushing disappointment of picking up the latest "bestseller" and finding it hollow and two-dimensional.
I was also scared that I would fail. I am for the record what is commonly termed an "over-achiever", or "know-it-all" as my little sister would say. The thought of creating something and opening myself up to criticism was frightening and daunting.
I decided that blogging would be a start, a foray if you like into the unknown, and a way to marshal my thoughts and experiences.
So, where to start.....well you could say that it began with an ending. I went from receiving a love that was "bigger than the sky" to having that same sky crumble and fall down around me. At the age of 27, my father passed away suddenly leaving my family and I floating adrift like jetsam after a flood. We navigated the whirls and eddies of decision making in the wake of his death like bedraggled victims of an apocalyptic event. Vacant stares, frightened faces and an inability to do little more than just survive, than just put one foot in front of the other, than just wake up, when the longest sleep seemed more appealing.
I drifted for nearly a year, unable to leave a job that I hated, too blinkered to fight for my relationship and unwilling to help myself, until I had an encounter with a counsellor that changed the course that my life was taking. It took an hour, just one hour for a small elderly lady, an open fire and a big box of tissues as well as some very direct questions, to make me realise that I had to change something and that it had to be immediate. I resigned from a director role and made a decision to join a West End firm as a consultant and began working with a team of people whom I hope you will become familiar with over the coming months as their larger than life personalities colour the pages of this blog as they have coloured my life since meeting them.
So here I am six years later with a whole lot of history in between (I plan to share but not all at once!) and still something is missing. Writing these last few paragraphs has shown me that I may be on the way to finding out what that is. If you want to join me as I spend the next year writing, creating, sharing and shaping my memories into stories I would love your company, advice and the chance to hear stories of your own.
For now it is goodnight and I hope that you will wish me luck!
WestEndGirl79
