I wanted to write about how lovely my weekend was. I also wanted to share how in love I am with my boyfriend. Guys, it’s month 11 and week 2: I can’t deal. I actually can’t deal with Ed. Sometimes I feel like David Attenborough when we talk, are you of the same species? Are we speaking the same language? Who am I speaking to because I’ve known you 8 years and this is new?!?!?!?
In general this isn’t a huge thing. Particularly as we’ve not had some huge blazing row. Have you met us? We don’t even shout when we argue.
You’re not gelling with your partner or you have a barmy and you aren’t speaking. It’s normal, a part of relationships I’ve heard.
However whether or not I like it, the world I come from has higher than average rates of lone parent families. Moreover I come from one.
So while we may just be having an off week, (which compared to the last year isn’t the worst).
In the back of my mind I become all to aware, of what could happen if everyone doesn’t tread carefully. I also worry about the effects of one not so brilliant few days on my baby. Sanaa is so loved and we are sure to keep all of our disagreements away from her.
But there’s still a sullen air that lingers in the kitchen at 7am as we give each other pursed lips and curt replies. Or the unspeakables we’ve still got left in our throats, the words we didn’t already vent.
On one hand, I know that I cannot shield her from all of life’s sour grapes and faces. But, I also don’t want to contribute to the realisation mum and dad aren’t superheroes.
I think I’ve just understood part of our problem when Sans was born: I thought we’d both become superhuman. Not just the parents I dreamed for us to be, but the people I hoped we would be. Instead I’ve learnt we both make mistakes and we aren’t perfect but we love each other.
Also every discrepancy doesn’t mean we’re doomed and keeping things cordial is mum code for: I hope you know we’re not friends today just everything else. I also know if I’m not civil then I’m the one making drama. That means whatever point I had becomes void and I’m seen to be unreasonable. So, have a nice day, I love you.
Our kid will always come first; I’m not really sure where we come with each other at all.
This could all be my period talking 😂 but I suspect not. Anyway as always ups or downs my insta and blog must always come from a place of honesty. While I may not enjoy speaking about these kinds of things publicly, it’d be worse not to talk about them at all. So I thought I’d say it out loud: WE ARE NOT SUPERHEROES. Just Remi and Ed at month 11 week 2.
We don’t really talk about the verb of grafting and hustling. Not proper logistics of what that entails. We tend to refer to them in name only. Between parenting, university and trying to make sure next summer my writing can financially sustain me; I’m knackered. I’ve gone into an auto hibernate mode. Trust me I’m not complaining and I feel so lucky to be able to do the things I love but it is tiring. As a result of constantly being on the go, a few pretty cool people have asked me to write or guest blog for them. That means I need to get off the 100 mph rollercoaster and get organised and creative.
It means I need to be still and listen to my thoughts. This is where my main graft is sourced. I gain most of my inspiration from everyday life by way of observation, interactions and conversation. Reflecting on how I feel about it all and what I see from it all. I make notes in the memos of my phone, most days of the things that inspire me to write.
Stewing over all these unconnected bits of information somehow, join together and make up a finished piece. Honestly, it sounds much more straightforward than it sometimes is. Anyway I’m waffling now and I just wanted to provide some insight to how I work and where it all comes from. I’m off to do what I do 2nd best. WRITE. So I can send out all the pieces I’m excited to share with you. This one was all about the how next I’ve go to do!
No not high school. This would’ve been far easier to write if it was just about that. This is about the HS in my life. Hidradenitis Suppurativa. This is a chronic skin condition and although it isn’t an autoimmune disease a lot of research has shown it has a clear relationship with the immune system. So anyway I’ve had this since I was 13 it’s basically like getting the most painful acne in your bits and pits. Luckily for me it’s stayed mainly in my armpits for the past few years. But, the boils are so painful that sometimes you can’t actually move your arms.
Unfortunately all female upkeep such as shaving, waxing and wearing deodorant can aggravate it as well. I mean come on I have to put on deodorant EVERYDAY so it’s really a never ending cycle.
According to the HS trust it’s affects 1 in every 2000 people, so it’s not that rare but there is a lot of embarrassment associated with it. I used to be very self conscious of it and I thought I had genital warts before I even lost my v plates because I just didn’t understand what was going on. Once I’d seen a dermatologist he let me know what it was and how to treat it but he also told me there isn’t a cure. A good diet and healthy lifestyle can only alleviate the symptoms for a time and for a while that did work for me.
From around 4 months prior to getting pregnant and the whole way through my pregnancy it lay dormant. No flare ups, no twinges, nothing. However another factor that contributes to the severity of HS is stress. Obviously becoming a new mum is stressful no matter how well it’s going and my transition was definitely not smooth sailing. My labour was so traumatic I still can’t speak about the emotional effects and it’s my kids 11 month birthday today. I’ve had a flare up or two every month since I gave birth. So if I’m honest I’m only sharing this with you guys because I’m avoiding going to the hospital or conveniently forgetting and I have been for a while.
I get labour flashbacks in those places and it’s pretty grim. But I need to go because even though life’s gotten better now my HS hasn’t. What I do know is now I’ve told all of you lovely readers I’ll feel like I’ve got to visit a Dr. While I’ve written this for you to read, I’ve also written it for myself to remember.
It has never been my aim to be fearless nor was it to be brave. I just wanted to live in the most unrestricted way possible. I just wanted to live.
How do you do it they ask, weren’t you scared? ABSOLUTELY!Most of the time when doing something new I get all the jitters and bubble guts. But I’ve learnt how to direct that nervous energy. I find it focuses me because due to my state of mind I don’t have room in my brain for all the usual traffic. I knew that life would change tremendously after Sanaa was born and with university out for the summer I thought I have to make the most of it.
All the places I’ve wanted to see and all the things I’ve wanted to do. Instead of waiting until “next year” I chose to do them now. The idea of being as free as I have been over the summer, especially with a baby was alien to me before and I still wouldn’t call myself adventurous.
What I would call myself is gobby.
That’s been the trick to my summer with Sans; to tell people my plans. Procrastinating is my favourite past time and chickening out of plans is a close second. However, if I tell people what I’m going to do I feel like it’d be embarrassing to say well actually I flaked out: so I could have a duvet day. There’s an air of accountability I adhere to once I’ve solidified plans in conversation. My aim was to experience things now so I don’t regret it then. My aim was to lead by example and if you think it’s easier now seeing as I’m always doing something new guess again.
I perspire like a chargrilled hog at the thought of some outings. It’s a good thing though it means I’m getting outside my comfort zone and doing what I set out to.
But, it has never been my aim to be fearless I just wanted to live.
I wish I could explain my methods, I wish I could immerse you in my systems.
Yet, I have no definition.
What I do know is between 2 and 5am is my creative window. When my art flows like wind on a clear day. All chaotic, free and untraceable. This is when I’m compelled to document all that comes to me, in the notion that something will stick. This is also when my flat is silent: not a she’s gone quiet is she okay type or a has he fallen asleep while we watch a movie type. It’s a I’m alone with my thoughts type.
At the onset of this blogging journey I only had one goal in mind. To positively inspire or affect someones life. I felt if a single person found comfort in my discomfort, I would have changed the world for better. I felt that like me your corner of the earth is significant and in times where one may forget, here reminder could be found.
The last time I wrote so much I was in school, I was about 15 or 16 I thought it was writers block but I didn’t write for at least 6 years. So imagine my joy at being able to write again.
I hope it’ll last my lifetime but I realise that at this stage in my life it’s my purpose. Its my opportunity to bathe in my abilities, to absorb my talent, to refine my craft and cleanse my ego. The ease that these past few months have been creatively, can only be recognised as one thing.
Everyone has a period of time where things just fall into place, where nothing is perfect but everything makes sense. Currently I’m flourishing in my season.
I enjoy what I do however I’m always dubious to feel pride. That would mean I care in a fashion I’m yet to admit. It would also mean the belief in myself that was so fragile has become unyielding. My intentions were to name this piece inspiration but in this sentence I realise the narrative is therapy.