For someone who often talks about wanting more help with our son Josh I’m not the best at accepting it. So many more opportunities open up when the fear of failing is gone, and I submitted a short piece to the New York Times the next day. This is so important because it brings with it such freedom.
I thought “Not meant to be, I wonder what the Universe is planning instead,” instead of feeling rejected.
I applied to speak at two festivals and received “unsuccessful applicant” emails and actually felt joyous.I must add that later in the month I disappointed my teenage daughter, and this really got me upset, showing that when it comes to my kids, I still have some letting go of people- pleasing work to do.Previously this would have sent me into a downward spiral, and I’d have obsessed over how to fix it. I had a moment of panic but then let it go and knew it was their stuff not mine and someone being unhappy with me doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. I accidentally really annoyed someone.We’ll face hardships, grief, and be faced with difficult feelings that won’t go until we allow ourselves to feel them.īut being your own friend will allow you to see joy where you previously may not have and make getting through the hard times easier.Īs I pondered it’s impact on my life, I thought I’d share some examples of things that have happened in the last month that made me realise what a difference being my own friend has made in my life and that, thankfully, my book isn’t a lie. No matter what we do life is going to sometimes send challenging situations. Will making friends with yourself make your life perfect? No. So, in the midst of all this I began questioning whether making friends with myself had actually made any difference at all, and the subject of this month’s blog was born. I’m also self-employed and trying to authentically grow my business whilst not put too much on my plate which, as a recovering workaholic, I still have a tendency to do. My biggest struggle in April came in the shape of my gorgeous curly headed son Josh, not so much him, but his autism which means at four he’s non-verbal, has a lot of very specific needs and for whom the Easter Holidays weren’t a welcome chocolate fest but an upsetting break in his routine that triggered a spate of almost constant meltdowns. I’m writing a book about self-compassion and the role it plays in living a joyful life, but as imposter syndrome flooded through me during the first session of the Hay House writers’ workshop along with frustration and my general weepy demeanour I thought, “God, Hannah you are a total fraud – this doesn’t seem like joyful living, the book is lies!” Stress and overwhelm were regular visitors. I can’t believe we are in May – Mental Health Awareness Month – and I won’t lie, my intention to stay light-hearted in April didn’t quite go to plan.
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