"Our past does not have to dictate our future happiness"

ten things I’ve learned as a single mom

A poignant post from Rachel, the mum behind "Finding Joy".

This week has been a real mix of highs and lows. Although I am happy, there is an undercurrent of loneliness and self-doubt.

The self-doubt isn't about being a good mother: I've nixed that one* - my daughter is an irrepressible, raucous ball of positivity - it takes quite a lot to get her down. And even when she is, she bounces back up within minutes. She's healthy, she has clean clothes (mostly), she still has good teeth, she can write her own name, read simple words, say complex ones (scary) and much much more. OK, sometimes she makes me despair ("Don't play with the glasses! Don't play with the glasses! Don't play with the---*smash! tinkle, tinkle* Oh, for the love of...") and I find myself hiding from her demands. And we are often late for school, she still doesn't have a school cardigan, and meals have been three different types of crisps and dinner has been whatever happens to be in the fridge. I am grateful that she has five solid meals a week when she's at school.

But I can see that she's doing well and I've learned not to judge myself harshly for doing the best I can. Sure I can do better, but I'm learning that I'm also enough.

The self-doubt has been bubbling these few days -- might be due to hormones in flux, might be depression making itself felt -- has been about me as a potential mate.

I've started dating again, or at least I am out there. It's been heady and delightful... but an incident has made me question my motives for seeking companionship.

My friend Wise Light asked why am I always running from myself. Months ago, I started researching how to be alone, that is, how to enjoy my own company. As usual, I soon got distracted and that got put aside. The issue has returned and I am now wondering again.

I think I need to perhaps try meditating and running again. I don't know why, but the coolest-headed people I know are all runners. Time to take a leaf out of their book.


*For now. For three nights now, she has been refusing to go to sleep at a reasonable hour and I feel horrible because I am horrible to her as I am so frustrated.

"Does the walker choose the path, or the path, the walker?"

~ Garth Nix, Sabriel, and all his books of The Old Kingdom*.

 

Today, I turned 42.

I'm learning that one needs the bounce-backability of a child to weather the storms of a fresh start. And I've had two pretty big ones in the last 12 months.

A year ago, I was stumbling amid the burning debris of my broken home. But I wasn't alone. My family and friends held me up and showed me how much they cared. On this day, I was treated with such kindness, and I felt so loved. And today -- this week -- has been no different.

Two months ago, I left a secure (-ish) job because I found myself in a constant state of rage. As someone who had suffered with depression twice, I knew this state would inevitably lead to a deep, dark hole. And drugs would only camouflage the journey. If I didn't change my situation, I would lose myself and my daughter will know someone she called 'mum' but it wouldn't be me.

So I quit with nothing to go to. I've been looking for work and set up a small shop but for some reason I still haven't got my site up and my creative consultant pitch remains unformed.

The last few weeks have been particularly trying - I ran out of money and had to ask for help.

This year, too, I faced my daughter's entry to big school. I worried about her settling into that society; I worried that she would hate it and refuse to go. After initially being cross most of the time (her teacher's description) she's settled in. And I am so proud that she's now able to demonstrate care for others. It was my greatest fear that she would be incapable of empathy.

In the last week, I've also been distractingly preoccupied by things I can't have. Or more precisely, people I can't have. I have no idea what is up with me. It's damned unhelpful.

On the other hand, my alter ego won me a writing gig. No cash, but opened up a personal avenue that I hadn't realised I craved. I also sold a short story, a voice over and a bedtime story. Just a couple of days ago, I made a new connection and a possible new venture has unfolded. It's terribly ENFP of me, all these little projects here and there, but it's also grin-inducingly exciting.

My dear friend, Irish, took me out for lunch the other day and observed that I was really happy.
And you know what, despite the lack of money, companionship, despite the distractions and the worries? I find that, yes, I really am. Truly, deeply so.


*Henry Rollins once derided a date for reading the Harry Potter books because she was a grown woman and shouldn't be reading children's books. Much as I love Henry, he's an idiot in this. Just because you're a grown up, doesn't mean you have to abandon the child in you, doesn't mean you should dismiss childish things.

Mix Tape: An Expression of Love

Since I bought my first music tape from a door to door salesperson in an HDB high-rise in Toa Payoh, I've always enjoyed making my own mixes. The 80s were especially challenging since I only had a single deck tape recorder and my pocket money wasn't enough to buy me a tape-to-tape. I used to record the top 40 tracks I loved off a TV programme called Skytrax (Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush just wasn't getting any radio air play at the time for some reason!) and TV theme tunes (anyone remember MASK?).

Inevitably, I graduated from tapes to CDs, and started mixing them up with spoken word tracks and comedy excerpts. Eddie Izzard, Bob Newhart and Henry Rollins made frequent appearances, as did the inimitable Tom Leher. I sought out readings -- Neil Gaiman is wonderful to listen to as well as read - interesting cover versions, and just cool sound. I suppose it's a habit I picked up as a promo producer - picking out the kicker lines or that intriguing clip. (I never went on to do mini-discs but I did learn how to edit reel-to-reel with a scalpel and a chinagraph pencil!)

The thing I liked best about making them, was writing out the tracks. I sort of wish I'd made images of all the covers and designs I'd done. This is the only one I took a copy of as I wanted to make a print for the case. I never planned them, I just let the pen take its own path. Well, I say never, I usually have a theme or an image at the back of my mind, but I didn't do a draft before I put ink to disc or paper, so each one was unique. (It had never occurred to me that I would make a mistake until one recipient pointed it out. Hasn't changed the way I make these things though!)

As to why I made them - lots of reasons, but mainly because I wanted to share the small pleasures I got from listening to these tracks. I once did a mix to be played at someone's work. At the time, this was someone I loved to my near destruction. I didn't actually make conscious choices about the tracks - only that they would have a timeless quality, so old classics. The mix... well, what came out elicited this lovely observation: "Wow, your wife must really love you."

Looking back at my choices in all my mixes, yes, they really were expressions of love, of my regard for the recipients. They had all been chosen with care and often, the subconscious me would add her own, much more meaningful, selection.

If you have images of a mix tape you'd made or CD or even a link to a YouTube playlist, I'd love to see/hear them. Pop them in the comments.

In the meantime, keep sharing the love.