I had a little meltdown this week. It wasn’t really a private affair.
In fact, it was a little bit public.
Not public like pulled-my-undies-up-over-my head-and-wailed-in-a-supermarket type public, but public enough that a few of my friends rallied and came to my aid as they could sense that my frantic waving may actually be me drowning.
Public enough that some of those friends saw my tears because I felt squashed by the enormity of this playing grown-ups malarky.
After chatting and crying and laughing and drinking lots of tea, I feel like I’m back on top, but I’m left with a residual embarrassment that my friends now may not see me as a croissant baking (yes, I will milk it) super homemaker, juggling children, writing and chainsaws, all without breaking a sweat.
Now the truth is out there.
I am not Wonder Woman.
I would totally have a crack at wearing her outfit, but I would be nothing more than a pouchy-bellied, hairy-legged, mortal wearing a costume.
Why does this shame me?
It makes me wonder about women in general, I mean, what is up with us chicks, and dudes?
Dudes aren’t immune to this overwhelming sensation of being swallowed, surely.
The exhausting newborn phase, the frustrating toddler phase, the mind-bending child rearing business/juggling act while you work, keep the house, tend the garden, have nutritious dinners on the table not just once, but 7 times a week, and keep your sanity in check, day in and day out, is a damned hard slog and no one escapes without feeling like it’s all too hard sometimes.
I must once more applaud the solidarity of the sisterhood (sorry, lads. It’s not an exclusive club per se).
I cried out and my girls were there by my side.
On one sunny morning, on my back deck, 4 of my girls and I drank tea and talked about where we’re all at and suddenly I realised that this shit of mine is not unique.
I am not a rare species, so unusual that no one can perceive my plight.
I am not alone.
My friends were saying their relationships aren’t perfect and their children aren’t perfect. Other people’s lives aren’t as amazing as they may seem on the outside. One friend said she used to hear her neighbour yelling at her kids and wonder how you could speak to your darlings like that…. and now she feel like she has become that lady.
I sometimes feel like that lady.
I am not Wonder Woman.
Do you ever feel like that lady?
Probably, because you are not Wonder Woman either.
I mentioned on my FB page that I felt like I was not coping very well last week, and my online community poured love onto my page. How awesome is that?
Some people I’ve physically met, but others don’t know me in person, but they were there with advice and love.
Some great words of wisdom came from that. I want to share a few, you know, in case you ever feel like going for a long walk off a short pier -
If you start to feel like it’s all too hard, call a friend, and go for a cup of tea.
Take a walk in the sun, or dance to some music that you love.
Honour your feelings. Allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling, but be kind to yourself.
Slow down and breathe.
Have a date night.
My personal favourite was have a whiskey. Whiskey always helps.
I just really want to impress upon you, if you’re feeling blue, you’re not alone.
Tell someone you’re struggling because there is no shame in not being Wonder Woman, and sharing the struggle brings forth wonderful women…. and wonderful men.
Flogging and flashing with some great linky link ups, With Some Grace, Hi, Mama G, thanks for having me!