Something has been playing on my mind and last night I decided getting it down in words might help, a little brain purge on a Sunday morning, it’s a step away from interiors, but it’s all linked.
I used to share a lot more photos of myself on social media, before I started my blog I wouldn’t shy away from group photos, I wasn’t adverse to a selfie or 2, maybe 3 or 4! But something changed, I had a second baby, I felt amazing all through pregnancy, birth is one of the best experiences of my life. Yes, I’m one of those people that others seem to either disbelieve, or think are bragging, in actual fact I’m just celebrating an achievement of mine, I give birth to babies like a boss, OK?!
But it goes downhill from there, somewhere along the line I’ve buried myself so deeply in the things around me, my children, our home, I’m not really sure where I am anymore and I don’t recognise the person I see in the mirror. Some weight goes on, I joke about it, a little more, I buy some new clothes because that will make me feel better, right?! A bit more, but it’s ok because my house is looking quite nice. The next minute I’m buying a size clothes I’ve never ventured into and it seems a little less funny, a little more like drowning.
I don’t post many pictures of myself these days, because if I’m honest I’m ashamed of what I’ve got myself into, but it’s ok, because I’m tall and ‘you can carry it much better than most’….apparently.
I try to fix me, fail, so I fix something else. I love design and interior styling, I love to share with you here, but when I see people comment saying ‘everything about your life is so beautiful’, ‘you just have it all so sorted, ‘how to you manage to keep everything so perfect?’ I just want to shout DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S NOT TRUE?! I am completely winging it, like everyone else, when one part of my life dips, I up my game in another, but I am nowhere near ‘perfect’ and I think it’s really important for me to say that here, to you.
My house was photographed for Mollie Makes recently, I’m so excited to see our home in print, but there is a big dark cloud overshadowing that excitement, there will be photos of me, close up, as I am now, at my heaviest.
It shouldn’t matter, I say it doesn’t matter, but it does. I have seen them and I am a little shocked. No one is to blame, it isn’t the photographer’s fault, or the editor, it’s just a fact of life right now, one I need to accept, the photos are part of the truth. I can take a photo that I am reasonably happy with, but it will be 1 out of 20.
I don’t look like me and yet I do. I am me, not the person I was, not the person I want to be yet, just me and that has to be ok. Because I can’t be anyone else.
So there, a little bit of me that is less than perfect, but I am also more than I give myself credit for.