On a day when I was asked to reveal my superpowers, I found out that my kryptonite is lack of sleep.

My superpower is my ability to bounce back; my ability to see the sunshine ahead and the silver linings of every situation my tools.

But a consistent lack of sleep drains me of all my energy and sparkle; and the more they fade, the more lacklustre and frustrated I become until all I can do is fall helpless.

Fortunately, all superheros have back up’s or side-kicks.  And I am grateful for mine.  Mine is 6’5” and bears gifts of wine and promises of massage and makes do with leftovers for supper.

I hope my little superhero cub sleeps tonight.

100%.

It was a running theme through today.

I am feeling 100% back to my happy self.

I know because I enjoyed my first run in the crisp morning light 100%.

I know because I was 100% myself without worry, with 100% trustworthy friends.

I know because I have 100% belief that everything is going to be ok;  better than ok.

I know because I have 100% let a load of crap and toxicity go, in the form of thoughts, beliefs, people, situations and events.

I know because I have 100% of all I need to feel safe and loved, fulfilled and energised.

I know because I am 100% grateful for it all.

I know because I have moved 100% of the self doubt mountain.

I know because I can feel 100% of the sun shining in a cloudless metaphorical sky.

And I got 100% in my first health coaching exam this afternoon.  That was just the goji berry sprinkling on the fab four smoothie!

Michael Buble is crooning about Christmas as I sit with my feet up.  I am wearing my new festive jumper, Willy has decorated the most fabulous Christmas tree, Tom and the Big Man are under a blanket watching movies and all of us are full of roast beef, yorkies, roasties and sprouts….

“All is calm; all is bright.”

Michael sooths and reminds me that we are a million miles away from the disruption of last year, the chaos and disastrously dull atmosphere.

I am confident we are the ‘explorers’ that Esther Perel talks of in the last chapters of her book.  She says there are 3 types of couples to decide to face the new shame of society and work it out, stick together after infidelity.  The sufferers who can never let it lie, can never let it go and suffer more than perhaps they were before – perhaps they have no choice? The builders, those who are committed no matter what and strap up their boots and get on with it and move on and rebuild what was broken.

And then there are the explorers.  Those who live with the excruciating pain of what happened, holding each other through it, sowing seeds of positivity and use the experience to totally redesign their lives and create something new.  There is acceptance and rebirth.  They repair each other and in doing so re-pair together with a love that is stronger and more passionate than thought possible.

If this is how we feel and how we are living, it is so disappointing and hurtful when others, sometimes very close, can’t see that.  Do they think stoking his guilt, my pain, our shame helpful? Or is it a cry for help for themselves?

If the latter, I sincerely hope, they have the strength to face their own demons and work it out, realising life is too short to be unhappy.

If the former, then this family of explorers don’t need that.  And we will keep on exploring and creating a new life elsewhere, content, calm, very happy and forgiveness for ourselves… and them.  We just don’t have time for that shit.  We have too much to live for going forward, rather than to be dragged backwards, downwards or anyway wards.

And this Christmas will be the best Christmas for all of us, because it will be all about the real things, love, family, togetherness;  all the things we didn’t have last year.  And the only things we need going forward.

Today started with laughter.  I always love a day that starts that way and especially when it is 4 of us in a bed, giggling under the duvet.

 

The giggling started with Tom’s openly honest question, “how do you have sex?”

 

Not quite expecting that kind of question before 8am, our grogginess stunned us in to silence.

 

The giggling started when Willy, breaking the quiet, retorted with an air of confidence, “my friend ‘N’ says that the boy puts his balls in the girl’s balls.”

 

The conversation between them then continued about the logistics of how this could happen, while I shook with hidden laughter, releasing the muffled snort when the Big Man started to intervene and correct with words such as ‘Widgy’.

 

In answer to the question, “Why on earth would you want to do that? It sounds disgusting?  It would feel weird.”  We explained it was so that you could have children.

 

Once again, the imagination of how this worked and the subsequent conversation, led me to hide further under the duvet… until someone said, “At least you only had to do it twice, Dad!”

 

I have laughed out loud several times today in recollection of the memory, especially if I have felt the sun coming over the clouds or the dark witch threatening to come out from hiding.

 

I turned a corner today.

It is surprising really, given the lack of sleep, due to late returns of the Big Man and a poorly little limpet lying next to me, coughing in to my ear all night.

But the dark witch has been absent today.

Perhaps it was because she was found out and written out?

Perhaps it is because my attention was demanded elsewhere, all day, for comfort, answering incessant questions, making food, snacks and drinks.

Perhaps she too is tired, from being so loud.

Perhaps the effects of the daily self-care challenges I have been doing this week, have started to work…

Who knows?  But I am enjoying the break and looking forward to the good witch to return in her full splendour!

This last week, I feel I have been writing a satire.  A dark satire.

The irony and ridicule all about me; shaming me.  Exposing the two sides of me.  The dark side and the light side.  The imaginary witches in my mind.  The ugly, long nosed, talon fingered, hunchback cackling with glee at how she tricked the light-hearted, joyful, happy, pretty version of me in to the hidden and lost crevices of my mind.  The bright version of me, is diminished, hanging on to the bars, desperately trying to get out; shrinking in the growing shadow of her nemesis.

Is this the true version of me?  No wonder I question everyone – how could they possibly love, or even like this hideous beast? I don’t.   She is scary, evil, jealous and wrinkly. How can I possibly trust anyone, when I don’t even trust myself?

This witch has stolen my naivety, my positivity, my happiness.  She has swept them under her long billowing black skirts.

How do I get them out?  How do I unlock the trapped girl, so desperate to escape?

Everyone has a dark side.  A shadow.  Mine comes out on paper.  As I write my thoughts and feelings in to characters, it is easier to recognise who I want to be.  The scribing process often turns the keys of escape and allows for role reversal.

But this satire has been going on too long now.  One side holding all the power, the balance tipped too far gone.

Strangely, today’s #womenwhoflourish challenge is apt:  what can I do to make today great?  In a day of cancellations, I find I have a free day.  And I can hear the whispers from within my cage – go and connect with people at the Acorn, write about your witches and set me free, and then go walking in the sun.

Will those small things be enough?  I seem to take small steps forward, grow in confidence a little but get plunged back in to darkness as some small trigger will hand the power back to the dark side.

I know it is time to seek help.  Talking of witches in my head, sounds nigh on crazy!

**

Post script:

I did 2 out of the 3 things I put on my list today, but the snow storms put a stop to my walk in the sun!  But I did smile a lot more today; mainly at my dark witch.

And I smiled especially at the message I received today from a deck of cards.

I am following a 5 day challenge lead by a life coach called #womenwhoflourish.  She asks a question that leads to a thought process or an activity.   Yesterday, the question: ‘What kind words can I say to myself?’

My answer yelled at me from a blank page.  I could only think of negative, hurtful things to say.  And all day, despite taking deep breaths and turning the negatives in to positive, none of it felt true and my page remained blank.

Clearly, self-doubt is at an all-time low.  As one layer of the infidelity experience peels away and is dealt with, the next appears.  I am sure I have been here before..?  But it is this layer again.  Somehow even harder to deal with, just like an onion, the closer to the centre you get, the tougher, thicker the layer, more attached to the core it is.

It was right to bring up my thoughts of yesterday in our session.    I didn’t get any closer to what I did to trigger the initial actions that caused so much hurt to us all.  But it led us down a path of understanding how the relationships and actions of our parents can sometimes, and often lead to thought processes and actions in the future.  Locked away memories of childhood sometimes come out to haunt our subconscious mind and enable us to ‘act out’.

If I didn’t learn what I did or didn’t do that lead to a chain of events that found us here in the present moment, I did learn about why I struggle so much with my self esteem currently.  Born to a brilliant man in the banking and accounting sector and then marrying in to a family of more accountants, with spreadsheets and abacus, I have always felt that ‘worth’ and ‘value’ always had a pound sign with it and a monetary significance.

When I left my corporate job, moved back into part time consulting, started my own business, I only felt they were any kind of success based on the wage, the daily rate or income I generated.  So, when I took the decision to stop going out to work, my self-worth started to falter.  But I did learn that working for money didn’t motivate or drive me, in fact it probably made me less successful as I was so miserable.  And the conflict started.

I tried to prove this to myself and to others, by volunteering, but it was met with comments that ‘charity started at home’, implying that if I wasn’t bringing money in, I shouldn’t be giving my time away to others for free.  Even the amount of petrol I used was called in to question as the family expenditure spreadsheet came out!  I fought hard and flounced like a toddler at that one.

AS I began my spiritual journey and understood more about happiness, connection, belonging, self-care, love as energy, the more my conflict on my own success and self-worth raged.  I wanted to be the authentic me – volunteer teaching, health coaching, writing, being homemaker but the monetary value attached to those is practically nil.  And so I feel worth-less… almost destroying the happiness and joy and authenticity I feel being and doing all those things I love.

Today’s question in the challenge reminded me of those things:  ‘What do I love to do?’  My list has never really changed:

• Being with my family
• Being with friends
• Sport / exercise / running
• Working in a team
• Helping others / volunteering
• Writing
• Cooking for fun
• Learning about food / nutrition, health and spirituality
• Laughing and having fun

In my dark days, I set my own personal challenge to do at least one of the things on my list a day.  To bring me some joy.  To realise my value in being who I really was.

I have continued to do the same, but maybe focussing on some more than others.

Being with friends needs serious work. I am aware of my significant trust issues with everyone; my naivety yet another thing I grieve the loss of.  I know it will take time and for me to step out of my comfort zone, more often than I am ready to do.  My nerves and anxiety often blinding and completely crippling me with fear.

And volunteering and helping others also.  I agreed to join a committee for a charity carol service which has been wonderful in terms of making some new friends, new connections in the area.  But I have realised, I love the connection with children that I had when I volunteered in schools.

So, as all good challenges should do generate, I took inspired action.  I know I feel so good when I am lost in the moments of working with young people.  I have put my application forward and now I wait with baited breath and fingers crossed.  At least this time, the petrol comment is irrelevant as I could cycle there!

My page for kind words for myself remains blank.  But I will keep it open.

I have been listening to Esther Perel’s new book on Infidelity.  Sometimes I tell myself it is like picking at a scab, deliciously, enticingly painful… but really, I am still so curious about it all.  What happened to me, the deception and intricate web of infidelity was mind-blowing.  I am clearly not that imaginative… or perhaps just too innocent to believe anything like that would happen, not to me anyway, especially not us – the couple who had been together for ever and had everything, the picture postcard perfect couple and family and life…

 

Her book enlightened me to the fact that far lesser acts of infidelity can be more damaging and far greater acts can be more sustaining to a marriage.

 

I learnt new words and concepts – like polyamorous.  I learnt more about sex and what people want than perhaps I ever really wanted to know.  I learnt that marriage doesn’t have to be as traditional as I was led to believe, that many couples don’t adhere to the vows of one person for the life, or even just the duration of the marriage.

 

In some cases, I turned off the tape in furious frustration!  Why bother getting married? No, I don’t believe in all cases it is the fault of both parties, or all parties!

 

In our couples’ therapy, we have learnt a lot about him.  About how he felt.  Why and how he was able to do what he did.

 

And I have learnt a lot about me in the aftermath of infidelity and a long love affair with someone outside of our marriage.

 

But what I haven’t learnt is what I did wrong, or what I wasn’t doing prior to the affair starting.  Each time I ask the question, the answer is always the same: “It wasn’t about you.  You did nothing wrong. It was all me.”

 

I don’t like that answer.  Maybe why that is why I keep asking questions, why I am still searching for the answers.

 

If I did nothing wrong, if I wasn’t the trigger.  How can I control the fact that it won’t happen again?

 

And if I can’t control it, what happens after this new ‘honeymoon’ period and the novel, open, honest way we are living now when we inevitably slip back in to the way we were?  Will he, or even perhaps will I, go looking for something new, exciting, look for thrill and adventure to wake up and shake up our relationship again?

 

She says that infidelity can leave a legacy in one of 4 ways; destruction and the delivery of a final blow to a marriage or relationship that was already dead or dying;  it can sustain it, an agreed, sometimes unspoken but known, rule so everyone gets what they need; force a badly needed change, the wake-up call to realise what you have is enough and you will do or change anything to keep it; or it will create a new relationship by ending the first and beginning again with one of the parties involved.

 

Perhaps this is also another reason why I continue to be curious; for I don’t know what our legacy is.  It is definitely not either the first two.  Not in this chapter anyway.

 

It was a wake-up call.  And it has forced a lot of change and we are living through that chapter now; new house, new schools, new social networks, new career (for me), new confidence, new honesty, new appreciation and humility, new attitudes, new visions for the future.

 

But I no longer feel like I am married or in the same relationship.  Not to the same man I married nearly 12 years ago or fell in love with over 20 years ago, nor do I want to be. In that space, I feel like I am Bambi, skating on thin ice.  Treading lightly, testing the strength… collapsing frequently… and always tempting that crack that will divide us and leave me under water again.

 

Today is our 6 weekly check-in session.  I think I should probably bring this up.  They are emotive topics, one best served in a safe environment.

 

We have progressed so far from where we have come;  and the last climb is always the hardest.

 

When I was really nervous and panicking about my ‘lump’ and the biopsy to determine it’s malignancy or not, I decided to follow something I read in the multimillion best-selling book ‘The Secret’ by Rhonda Byrne.  A lady, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer decided to laugh.  And laugh a lot.  She watched comedy after comedy and laughed and believed the laughter and light heartedness would ease her discomfort and fear.  In the end, it cured her.

 

Rather unbelievable.  But apparently true.  Another miracle, where love conquers fear.

 

I decided to do the same.  I cooked and laughed as therapy.  And for some reason, Netflix thought I would enjoy a series called ‘Grace and Frankie’.

 

Netflix was right; through the American Jewish obvious humour, there was (and still is) something that makes me laugh out loud to myself, alone and in the kitchen with no shame.  Today, I realised why and what it is that makes me laugh.

 

Frankie and Grace are both sides of my personality, reacting to a situation they never saw coming.  Thrust together by the turn of events that found their husbands falling in love 20 years in to their respective 40 year marriages.

 

At first, they battle and fight through their personality clashes:  Grace and her somewhat endearing snobbish behaviour clinging desperately onto the professionalism of her youth, reflecting her life as a business owner and upper class status; her vulnerability, naivety shrouded and masked by her pearls, perfect hair and clothes but clear from her obsession with her image and controlling dietary requests.  Frankie and her ‘hippie’ chanting, magic herbs and potions, healthy, wholesome eating, rituals and routines, vlogging as therapy and her creative life as an artist leading you to believe she is a little ‘coo coo’ but she is wise, grounded and in touch with her authentic self.

 

It doesn’t take the two highly different women long to discover that they work well together, they support each other in different ways; the voice of reason and practicality, the quiet of compassion and calm and the sense of fun and joy in the small things.  They make a good team.

 

As I realise the parallels and similarities of their personalities to my ‘split personality’, I recognise that two parts of me that make me my whole.  And I should stop fighting myself internally and just like Grace and Frankie, make myself my best friend.

 

 

 

I do love Sundays at the moment.  Very family focussed.  Very relaxed.

 

But tonight I am a little anxious.  With that Monday morning feeling I haven’t had for years.  I am already overthinking!  Ridiculous.  54321 stop.

 

I already have my action plan for tomorrow morning.  It won’t be a problem.