Like those stretchmarks, wrinkles, lines, the added height she has not seen, I am confronted with an intense grief.
I don’t wonder why they behaved this way, but I ask myself why I responded. I put this individual’s behaviour down to them having a bad day and I forgive them. Yet I can’t forget the fact that they saw me at my most vulnerable, and strangers must have seen me as weak.
Losing our mum aged me in so many ways, which I have mentioned a lot in blog posts before. Mum would always call me a “party girl” which used to make me cringe, but I quite liked the colourful description. I liked that people thought I was colourful and energetic.
Why do we have this self-imposed idea that throughout our lives we are meant to maintain a perfect, crisp version of ourselves? Like untouched snow, or fresh school shoes that we don’t want to scratch.
I felt emotionally exhausted and wanted the opportunity to transfer this emotional struggle into a physical challenge that I could overcome, learn and develop from.