It’s early hours of the morning and I’ve just put Eloise back to sleep. It’s been a rollercoaster of a few weeks and I feel terrible about not keeping up with my blog and YouTube posts. I promised myself I would give it all the spare time I have, but seriously, I don’t know any mum who has any spare time. Especially one that gives her time to work and studies at the same time as raising a little human. I don’t know, I think I am a little over ambitious sometimes.
After spending a good amount of time putting baby back to sleep, I feel like I can’t go back to sleep. So instead, I start to ponder about life. Thinking about my lovely afternoon with friends yesterday. About my daughter’s experience on the London Underground and my increasingly painful joints. You know, the usual stuff.
Somehow, I find myself looking back at how people hide behind illusions of a perfect life. How instagram models post about all the amazing things they’re doing and places they’ve been to, but not often talk about how life has really been. About the shit they go through, or have been through. In today’s world, it is so common to frantically post about how amazing life is, instead of being honest about all the good as well as the bad times we go through as humans. We seem to be in a race against each other to prove who had the best life. In a way, I guess it’s a good thing that we are consciously focusing on the positives instead of the negatives. People don’t want to see or read things that aren’t exciting. Things that are perhaps seen as a little negative. Things that perhaps make them feel, a little sad.
For years, I successfully made everyone think I was having a great life. I think I have always been good at pretending everything is fine. That might explain why my eldest brother often asked me ‘What have YOU got to be depressed about?’ Every time he realised that I was going through depression as a kid. To everyone, I really didn’t have any reason to be sad. There was no reason at all. That’s because, no one ever knew the truth. They only knew what I let them see. Just like we do all over social media these days. Let people see how amazing life is, without taking the time to talk about what really goes on. It’s easier that way, isn’t it? Everyone has a story and every story is different. I think quite a few people have childhood trauma and it makes them who they are today. Some people just prefer not to think about it or talk about it. Like I did for many years.
At school, friends thought because I was the only daughter in the family, I had anything and everything I ever wanted, without a single worry in the world. Truth, was far from what everyone actually saw. Sure, materialistically, I had everything I needed. But in reality, no one took the time to see behind the scenes.
Honestly, it’s okay. As a kid, I don’t think I trusted any adult to talk about the things that were happening to me. Firstly, who would’ve believed me? Secondly, I was thought to be believe I would bring shame on my family if I ever spoke up. Lastly, I feared for my family’s safety. My abusers were good at making me think they’d harm my family if I ever spoke. After that, I think I just grew up hiding behind the facade of sunshine and rainbows.
Yes, I did have some great times. But for a long time, my brain blocked out years of my childhood. I am now slowly putting back the pieces together with help from professionals. It’s funny when you meet people from the past that know you quite well and you have zero recollection of who they are.
Anyway, my history has made me stronger, it has made me who I am today. I have promised myself to be a good role model for my daughter and always be there to listen. To remind her that she can talk to me about anything, that she is my number one priority and I will always be there for her. I will do everything I can to remind her that she can trust me. So she never has to go through what I did. I hope no child ever has to. Ever.