It was a typical grey, damp August bank holiday Sunday morning when I found the key I had been searching for to unlock who I was…because I did exist pre children, and marriage, and work…somewhere along the way I had lost sight of who I was while spinning plates and managing crisis after crisis.

I’ve been seeing a counsellor for a whle now; my mental health has been up and down for years, but lockdown and pregnancy and family problems led to more lows than highs in the general levels…please dont take this as I regret for one moment my children, they are my world…but thats also part of the problem, they became my whole world, and I lost myself in the process. I was a mum…and in so many ways that felt like all I was. For the last almost seven years I have been pregnant, breast feedig, pregnant, breastfeeding, pregnant, breastfeeding…and as wonderful as those journeys have been, its been all encompassing. There has been no time for me.

Until recently I hadnt realised how much of me I had lost. I was busy, all the time. I had no need to look at clothes or hobbies because until my body was mine again, there was no point. Bedtime I was needed to settle WildOne 3 down as he still fed to sleep most nights. Until he stopped, there was no reason to try and find clothes that did more than meet the basic needs.

Its no secret daddyETW and myself have been rowing and struggling to find our way together of late. The amount of times I wondered if divorce was the only way forward for us both. Last Sunday morning was a turning point for me.

I went clothes shopping. I was completely lost in fairly small stores. I had no idea what style I liked or would suit me. I was overwelmed with choices. The body I have finally reclaimed as my own did not really resemble the body I used to have. As I looked at myself in the full length mirror, under the unforgiving lights in the changing room in peacocks, I didnt like what I saw; saggy and flat boobs, flabby tummy, fat thighs and just generally a body thats been worked but not looked after. All these things can (and will) be fixed by diet and excercise…a decision I had already made before standing there that Sunday; but what truley hit hard was I had no idea who the person staring back at me was.

In that minute, I couldnt tell you anything about the stranger in the mirror. I didnt know what music she liked; What colours suited her; what gave her life; what she was passionate about? Did she have any hobbies or interests? In those few seconds (that felt like forever but really werent) I just looked at myself. I was tired. Real tired; not the sort a good nights sleep would help (although I wouldnt turn that down either). I was stuck, I was lost. Without the WildOnes in tow I didnt know who I was or what I should do.

Id left the house that morning in a really bad mood. Words had been said, tempers had fired, I felt taken for granted and resented Daddy ETW for his ability to come and go; to sleep in and know the children were being cared for…the list goes on.

I was supposed to be going to a flower show at the local RHS gardens that I was really looking forward to, but I didnt get to leave early as I wanted, so when I did eventually get out the door, car seats moved into DaddyETW’s car, instructions given it was too late to get in as it was very busy. So I drove to the local outlet village (I was not going home on my first childfree day in forever that didnt include work or other such mundane reason). So I wasnt in a good frame of mind anyway, so probably not the best day to try and find clothes, but maybe the best day to stare into a mirror and really see who I had become for the first time.

I didnt like what I saw (and I dont mean the physical bits that I had already looked at and put a plan in place to start dealing with when the WildOnes are back at school or Preschool). I mean how could I like a total stranger? I didnt look particularly inspiring in that moment either. I didnt know myself anymore – and without excusing DaddyETW from his faults, I suddenly realised if I didnt know myself, how could he? How could I expect him to respond to me in old familiar ways, if neither of us are the people we once were when we got together over a decade ago. The 20 something year old he fell in love with had changed – motherhood, life stress (both for us personally, and the global changes we have all edured) have changed me. Have changed us.

He has his own trials and issues to overcome, it is not my place to share; but what I did realise was that in some way, although I am here with him, he must face them his way, and I must look and face my own issues in my way.

In some ways that last argument was a blessing. I was also unwell all week which helped too. The week where we circled each other nervously, communicated about the WildOnes, and day to day necessities but other than that we were keeping our distance from each other. Two lost and hurting people.

But while I have been alone, I managed to find a focus that was lacking. I’ve been looking at ways to get ETW business moving, dreaming big, but acknowledging the need to start small. I’ve been wrapping up work bits as I finish my job at the end of August. Looking at jobs available at the moment. Applying for said jobs. Listening to Spotify’s new DJ setting which dredged up music I listened to in the past – not just the same old playlists over again and again that just fade into the background.

A few nights ago, while doing battle with WildOne3 that he needed to go back to his bed, the light fell on the bookshelves that sag with books that have been abandoned aside from the lower three shelves where the WildOnes books live. I picked up “If Women Rose Rooted” by Sharon Blackie. A book gifted to me by my mum years ago – probably to kick start what seems to be happening this week at last.

I remembered. Some spark at 1am in the morning started the fire that had been dying. The Divine Feminine; Nature; Celtic Spirituality; Native histories; Myths and Legends; The Natural World; the feeling of being part of a whole. This was what I had slowly been losing along the way, becuase life had bigger demands on my time then me.

I had been so busy trying to keep “our” (as in our small nuclear family’s) world going, I had lost sight of the belief that had always kept me going that we were all part of something bigger than just our individual circles. The small, individual circles that our society tells us are what we should focus on, while ignoring or maligning our neighbours.

In many ways, its what Church should be; what society should be. I’ve worked or volunteered for churchs on and off since I was 18. I’ve attended all denominations throughout the years. Church has always been part of me and my life. I am a Christian – I dont think that could ever change, but the church is an institution with its roots in the patriarchiacal society that we live. Years ago I’d say I was a Christian without the religion. I didnt want to be judged for being a Christian, but for myself. I still dont. Working for a Church, although I have no complaints, had helped me lose sight of my own personal relationship, belief, spirituality.

I didnt want to rock the boat (more so than my mouth did unitentionally-its a family trait) and cause issues. I didnt want to upset peple. I didnt want to make life difficult for others or myself. So I moderated what I said and thought outwardly.

This is not a critisism of the local church, or the larger church. Its my inability to cope with conflict and always looking to be the peacekeeper, even when really the battles are all in my head. Although, I know some of my views are radical to some within the church, heretical even in some peoples views. So maybe they weren’t all imagined issues.

But now, I can acknowledge them, not to upset others, but to acknowledge the part of myself I have ignored and trampled down.

That is what I am now doing again. I am looking at my life. Looking at what I like, enjoy, what gives me life, discover where my passions and dreams may lead. I have found a website that sells the style of clothes I used to love (wicked dragon.co.uk)…I also know of some independant shops I can go browsing to slowly update my wardrobe (although I will get a bra fitting done first I think). My Spotify playlists are a lot me eclectic, diverse, more me again. This weekend I sat down and watched Murder on the Orient Express. Its not something I think DaddyETW would have chosen, but for once I made a choice for what I wanted. It inspired me to start rereading old favourites again at bedtime rather than aimlessly scrolling on the phone.

I’m going to keep my flower subscription going with Bloom&Wild. Im going to buy more candles and reed difusers (maybe even make some). Im going to get some incence and burners again. I’m going to draw, and paint, and cook food I like.

I am Rebecca, a mother – always; but I’m also a woman who is on a journey to find just who I’m becoming, now I can remember who I was.