Second chances

There are moments when I realise the fragility of my new resilience.

At my housewarming, a school mum noted that I wasn’t in a good place yet – in light of some of my blog posts – and I disagreed  with her vehemently. No, no, I insisted, I’m good. Really, I’m great. But I could tell she didn’t believe me.

And it’s occurred to me that she’s right. While I’m good about the separation, very much at peace, I’m not quite good with myself yet. It takes only the smallest sling or arrow to wound me, bring me low.

I suffered an arrow on Sunday from a friend who let me down really badly, and suddenly found myself having one of my old woe-is-me weeps in the shower.

My self-esteem is held together with chewing gum and string. It’s easily rattled.

I don’t like showing people my sadness, I’d much rather make them laugh. But I reached out via text message to one of my post-separation besties for a kind word.

I wasn’t expecting a reply because I knew she had a busy weekend, but to my surprise she texted straight back. Struck down with a migraine, most of her plans had been cancelled. She told me to put the kettle on and came over in her pyjamas and slippers to offer comfort.

Rubbing her temple and looking tired, she listened and was so very, very lovely and supportive.

Me being me, I was tortured with guilt at dragging her from her home. Not to mention fretting about never offering the same comfort to her.

I warned her before she arrived that I might cry, but I didn’t until she left. Just a little weep.

Then yesterday, still needy, I reached out to another friend. I didn’t tell them anything had happened, but they said just the right thing anyway, incredibly sweet, and it made me smile and feel loved.

But my confidence is a well that seems to constantly run dry, so my sister was hauled over last night for vodka and sympathy (and company while I vacuumed up the Cheezel dust from the carpet).

My sister gave really good advice. Absolutely perfect. Very insightful and sensitive. And that’s saying something coming from me because I like to GIVE advice, not TAKE it. People giving me advice usually put my back up a bit because they never understand the subtle nuances, but she didn’t put my back up at all. Bless her.

Still, deep down I know all the reassurance in the world isn’t what I really need. It’s about believing in myself enough not to give people 5th chances when they only deserve second ones.

And in the meantime, while I work on that, there are good friends, my gorgeous girls, getting fit and giving everything  I can to my new job.

All wonderful things. I am a fortunate woman to have them all.









2 thoughts on “Second chances

Add yours

  1. My self-esteem is about as solid as yours. I beat myself up all the time about everything. It’s exhausting. I’m always fearful. Can’t relax. Expect to fail. At least when the kids were really little I felt good about my mothering. I genuinely felt I was a good mum. Now that they’re a bit bigger I don’t even feel good about that anymore. I’ve put them through a marriage breakup and they have way too much screen time. When I actually stop to breathe I feel incredibly sad and at a loss. Paralysed.
    Yesterday at work I just wanted to scream. And quit. But I can’t afford to quit. I don’t tell my girlfriends his I’m really feeling. In fact, I don’t tell anyone. It feels like such failure.
    Anyway, you are brave for reaching out to people and for writing about your life for the public. I realise your intention behind this post wasn’t to get random rants from your blog followers but it’s kind of a relief to tell SOMEONE .

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: