Category: Love and Hope

Faking Bravery

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I have been unprepared most of my life, if I am honest. I was ill-prepared to have a baby, start my own business, take the chances I have, and accept certain positions career-wise. I am familar with abject terror. Two things have helped me, or rather, two people. The first asked me to define when I thought I would be ready to commit to my dreams. What would have to be in place? There is never a perfect time to start IVF to try and have a baby, nor move toward a dream. There will always be doubts in both yourself and what you are aiming for. Just begin!

The second bit of advice I was gifted was a gem. If you are anxious, and feel as though your nerves will get the best of you, pretend you are Cate Blanchett! This reasonated with me, because I adore this actress. She has poise, style and confidence. She interviews easily and makes eye contact. I imagined I was Cate Blanchett whilst giving speeches, in job interviews, and throughout social occasions with strangers. How would Cate be? What would she say and do?  Fake it ’til you make it works! It may be George Clooney or Wonder Woman in your case.

So there you have it. Life doesn’t need to be perfect in order to chip away at your goals. There will never be a supreme moment to begin, so you may as well start now, right here with what you have today. Summon up the qualities you admire in Cate Blanchett or another wondrous soul, and wow this world!

Old Magazines and Time Travel

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Half the folks I read about as having married, have since come out as gay. Not even thirty years ago, people felt they had to hide who they were. Anyone over forty was considered to be of advanced age, and a rare few were celebrated as looking good “in spite of their years.” IVF was still in its early stages, and as ICSI hadn’t been devised, success rates were low. Gluten was considered good in most cases, and low-fat powdered skim milk was the go! Sexual, domestic, financial, emotional and verbal abuse were rarely discussed. If they were mentioned, it was only in brief commentary, advising the person to seek some form of therapy, though adequate help was scant. The postal service was rushed off it’s feet; the internet and express delivery still a long way off. We thought it marvellous if we could have our film developed in 24 hours, viewing the dodgy pictures we’d taken.

We saw Hollywood stars fall in and out of love, just as we did. Some famous folk sadly succumbed to drugs, alcoholism or other tragedies. If only we had a time machine to warn them! Would they have listened? Would we, had we been approached, regarding impending disaster? Some of the ads and features I came across in the old magazines made me smile and reminisce; some made me glad to be alive right here and now. People can be who they truly are without falling foul of the public or media. They don’t need to announce an engagement or marriage to be accepted. Medical advances have seen everything from cochlear implants transcend from one station (leaving only a minor improvement in hearing), to many, which can be adjusted easily for the individual’s comfort. Laser surgery is a thing, as are insulin pumps and scores of other astounding breakthroughs in medicine. A friend of mine was kept alive via an artifical heart whilst waiting for a transplant in the past five years!

Ageing is celebrated, and we are actually seeing people over forty on catwalks, and in the arts, being revered and heard. We live in an age of self-defrosting fridges, little vaccuums, mobile phones, laptops and the internet. Rather than hiring a huge video cassette, we are able to download a film on our IPads. We are fortunate, to be alive at this time. No more secrets nor shame. We are indeed fortunate.

Old Magazines and Time Travel (part 2)

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March 9th, 1987

Elton John was married to Renate Blauel and Michael Crawford was on stage in Phantom of the Opera.

March 12th, 1984

There was a feature on Celebrity Homes, with pictures of Liberace, Rock Hudson and others.

Joan Collins had started seeing Peter Holm. In good news, stress increases your metabolic rate! A recipe recommended orange juice, sugar, gin, instant coffee and ice as a refreshing drink. It goes without saying that a man requires a hostess and elegant wife to not only cook, but charm his colleagues. It is apparently expected and a lady can look at it as being her “job” as a wife.

December 11th, 1990

 

Elizabeth Taylor and truck driver Larry Fortensky were an item, as was Kim Basinger and Alec Baldwin. Cigarette companies were still running competitions, and the latest innovation was a rechargable vacuum with a torch on the end! There were no hair straighteners, only curlers and crimpers.

August 28th, 1990

Nicole Kidman was 23 years of age, and engaged to Tom Cruise. The movie Ghost was a hit and reduced-fat foods were becoming popular. Julia Roberts and Kiefer Sutherland were going out and fridges that automatically defrosted were beloved. Forty is considered old! Apparently, Mick Jagger-at 47- is exhausted from touring and at his advanced age, is looking forward to being home with Jerry Hall and the kids!

 

The Last Place…

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I have returned to most of the places where frightful events took place… Buildings and hospitals, houses, parks and reserves. I have stood at these scenes and wept for the girl who suffered so. I wept for what transpired. I took my power back, and incorporated that young girl  into my psyche. No more feeling discombobulated, as though I had been blown apart, my ashes found all over Sydney. I became a little phoenix, rising with her wings outstretched. However, there was one place I hadnt been back to, couldnt go back to…

It was where I spent a great deal of my childhood, it’s gothic visage, cemetry and vast grounds  seemingly enormous and frightening to a child. I have visited friends at the nearby hospital, averting my gaze from the tower standing high amongst the trees at the end of the road. In the 70’s, the old hospital was turned into a mental health facility and school for children and teens. The family had many visits there, none of them ending well. So many memories; too many memories. I was to be placed there at fifteen, my third such hospital, but the only one catering to anyone remotely in my age bracket. At my pre-admission, an older teen threatened to rape me on my admittance. I couldn’t go there… I had been through enough. Besides, I wanted to work. I had left school a year prior, and my god, I had seen and been through more than most adults. This felt like going back to the beginning. I was to be held here, with nowhere else to go.

A series of events saw the story changing, and my back was broken. I ended up spending several months in an orthopaedic ward. This place is my Sliding Doors moment. What would have become of me if I had been admitted? Would my story have been better or worse? I wouldn’t have had my hip and ribs grafted into my back, to make up a replacement spine. I wouldn’t be in physical pain every second of the day and night. However, I doubt I would have healed emotionally. It was the wrong place in the wrong era at the wrong time. I would have been as vulnerable as before.

My daughter was looking forward to an upcoming camp, as was I, and we learnt where we were to be staying. Yes, it was the place I had been avoiding for over twenty years. Every cell in my body stood on a knife’s edge. Then, I breathed. I thought deeply about the timing, and whether I could face it. Memories came flooding back. The hallways and offices, the conversations and smells. How desperate I felt to live a happy life, away from all this. I believed this opportunity happened for a reason. I am now strong enough to go back, and reclaim that girl. Strong enough to go back and reclaim me. I packed for camp, and then I went to camp. I wasn’t afraid. This time, I was free to leave, and nobody would harm me. I faced the gothic structure with courage and was rewarded with my last retrieval of ash. The phoenix could now breathe fire. The phoenix could now fly.

The Nest

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I had been given very little hope of ever having a child with IVF (after three attempts). Despondent, I went for a walk in a local park. I was standing under a tree, brushing away my tears, when an empty bird’s nest fell at my feet. I took it as an omen, and cradled the precious gift. I still have it- behind glass in my cabinet-eleven years later.Just the other day, I was walking with my daughter, and the nest pictured above landed at my feet! I marvelled at the time and effort that went into building it; a perfect home and  refuge. Of course, it came home with me, and my little bird was just as enchanted as I, coming close to inspect the handiwork. Nests and eggshells from newborn chicks are items I tend to find regularly. What are yours?

I am Sorry…

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People tend to find it hard to know what to say when confronted by another’s suffering, particularly if they don’t know the person well. They may inquire as to how many children they have, and when the answer is “three; two here and one in spirit,” they don’t know how to respond. It is the same when encountering grief, serious illness, infertility or a survivor of abuse. It is tempting to apply a verbal salve to the savage wound, usually in the form of platitudes such as “chin up,” “you can try again,” “it will get better with time…” These words hold no healing, and are rather like acid being poured onto a vulnerable soul.

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I went to a Bravehearts luncheon the other day, and afterward, one of the women divulged the abuse she had suffered as a child. Those gathered listened respectfully, and afterward, I went up to her, hugged her, and whispered, “I am so sorry that you endured such things; so sorry that you suffered so.” I did this because  kind folk had said this to me. Others wanted to know how far I had fallen when I was pushed off that ledge as a teen; they wanted to know the details to satisfy their curiosity. I treasure those who cradled me, and whispered how sorry they were. It is the ultimate recognition of trauma. You aren’t attempting to fix the situation with glib words, nor paper over what a brave person has divulged. You have acknowledged their pain and the unfairness of what has transpired. “I am so very sorry…” That is all that is needed.

BraveHearts

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I attended a White Balloon Day luncheon, to raise awareness and funds for Bravehearts, an Australian organization whose aim is to prevent child sexual assault. Their services include counselling for children and adult survivors, advocacy and support, an education program for children, research and lobbying, and community awareness campaigns. The more we talk and educate our children, the safer our society shall be. I would love to be able to give the gift of safety to our kids, so they have nothing to survive from their childhoods. That is their right and our responsibility as a community. I have hope that the tide is turning. Even a decade ago, such lunches would have been rare. The subject would have been deemed unpalatable. We as a whole are becoming more cohesive, aware and supportive. May it flourish at the same time as predators fall.


Marriage Equality, Sydney Rally and the Plebliscite

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Oh Sydney, I have fallen in love with you anew! You have a way of enticing like a siren’s call. I love the egaliterian spirit, witnessed a few day’s ago at Circular Quay when a businessman and local character playfully teased each other. I love the Vietnamese family who run a takeaway at the station, where my daughter buys her strawberry donut each week. They put it in a bag as soon as they see her approach.

Hopping on a ferry will take you to numerous islands around the Harbor, and a day spent walking around the city will see you stumble upon magnificent gardens and street art.  You will see lovers and love in all its forms on the streets of Sydney. Today, a rally is taking place for marriage equality, in preparation for the upcoming plebiscite, a staggering and demeaning waste of over a hundred million dollars. It is ultimately a human rights issue, and the community is demanding equal rights, as well they should. The turnout is astounding. It is time, Australia. Love, that is what it comes down to. That is what makes a family.

 

 

Vale, Connie

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The extraordinary Connie of Love your Sister died yesterday, leaving a legacy that is filled with rainbows and hope. Together with her brother Samuel, Love your Sister raised $6,000 000 in funds to aid in the eradication of cancer. Thankyou for what you taught us about love, and how to live fully in each moment. To donate to Love your Sister and help eradicate cancer for good, go to Love for Connie. You can also leave tributes.

Mentors in my Daughter’s Life

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My friend Megan uncovered that my daughter is interested in design and learning to sew. Megan took it upon herself to book in a time to take her to choose fabric and start on a project. She was beaming afterward, and can’t stop talking about it. My heart was full of both gratitude and love. Our kids need mentors  in their lives. We simply can’t be all things to them. Besides, I am rubbish at sewing! I cannot be taught, though many have tried!

My daughter is on the cusp of her teenage years, and both she and I are humbled by the women who are supporting her. The ladies who run the choir she is involved in, who teach with firmness and love. They educate her about honouring the past, and becoming a leader. There is the camp nurse and mum who tend to the kids. The homeschool community has a multitude of mums who love your child as their own. There are my friends who are involved in the theatre, film, literature and fashion, who spare time for my child. There are the adventurers who take her on wondrous journeys and those that have sat by her side when she was in hospital. There are the teachers who have gifted her resources and their expertise. We love you all. See how you can fulfil the role of mentor to a child in your life. I know my daughter will carry the knowledge she has been passed throughout her life.