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  • I am freakin' lost!

    I am lost.

    I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

    I don't know where I'm going.

    I don't have the answers. I'm not even sure which ones to ask.

    That felt good to admit.

    I've been quietly floundering for a couple of years now and I'm TIRED of doing it under cover. There's liberation in admitting to these feelings, however uncomfortable they are. It's made me see how infinitely destructive unacknowledged feelings are, how progress and growth can't be made - can't even be started - until those feelings are given names.

    I've always had it pretty together. I'm the first-born in my family and we First-Borns seem to often share similar qualities: a yearning to succeed, to do 'the right thing' and please our parents, to be fairly conventional and tow the line, to be the child the parents worry about least. So I did well all throughout school. I went to university and completed not one, but TWO degrees!

    (lots of pats on the head, congratulations)

    I got a teaching job straight away, at the school I'd gotten my teaching experience at, even though it was a miserable place.

    (applause for being a martyr)

    But I found a nicer school, with a better reputation and things got easier for a time!

    (high fives!)

    For a time. About 2 years. Then it got hard again – regardless of the nicer kids, easier job, I was still a teacher in a system I was rapidly losing faith in, with a head of department who had the people skills of a lizard, and my teaching practice was starting to lose its zing as a result.

    (awkward shoulder shrug)

    Nevermind. This all coincided with the Great Urge to Become a Mother. So I joyfully got pregnant and everything at school took a back seat to me embarking on this mystical, miraculous journey towards meeting my baby.


    At 7 months pregnant, I high-tailed it out of there, with the vague intention of returning to work when imminent-child was, say, a year old.

    (snorts, smirking)

    Now, two and a half years later, not only have I not returned to school, but I don't plan to in the foreseeable future. After 18 and a half years as a student, then 3 and a half years as a teacher, I'm lost without my academic labels. The things that earned me praise, validation, gave me purpose, gave me 'good standing' in the community, made me feel I was a Decent Human Being.

    Now, all of that is not to take away from the supremely rewarding experience of being my daughter's mummy. I love her and I love taking time out from my own little bubble of me to focus on her in these formative years.

    But I have no direction. No purpose outside motherhood and the dishes and the washing and keeping the house tidy and doing the grocery shopping and making sure the household machine keeps running.

    I am lost in a soupy brine of all that I used to be, before my baby, all that I became when I crossed the threshold of Motherhood, and all that I am now, as I yearn for something more in my life.

    I feel a little burst of Life, Energy and the Universe, shoot out of my finger tips when I write. That there is more than there presently seems to be. But having labelled and defined myself as a Teacher and before that, a Student, for so long, it's not easy for me to identify as a Writer. It's too great a label.

    But maybe that's just it. This journey towards nowhere; freeing myself of these labels and the praise and validation that used to be my breath, my heartbeat, is all part of it.

    So here's to being Label-less. Purposeless. Directionless.

    And discovering Who it is that was beneath all that junk all along.

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