Gentle Stories of Discovery

It perched on the mantelpiece, aloof, self-assured, and provocative. A seemingly harmless rectangle of card bearing its messages in sophisticated font and branding colours. Yet I felt the thud of my heart dropping to the floor each time I glanced in its direction. Too ashamed to respond, yet too frightened not to, I allowed the whole business of the invitation to consume me.

In reality, no rectangular card sat on a mantelpiece; no constant visual reminder in my living room. It was digital - Facebook to be precise. The innocuous words: you have been invited… were like a petrifying poison that surged through my veins, alien and unsettling. And up went the invitation, onto the metaphorical mantelpiece for later. I needed time to process this.

What do you do? — My flawed narrative

How could an invitation to a reunion have caused such an opening of deeply disguised wounds? The Pandora’s box of wrong turns, missed opportunities, lack of self-awareness and confidence, oh and guilt and shame and self-blame and everything, all spilled out forming a veil of ice on the ground around me, ready to crack. The familiar security I had built and relied on felt precarious now. Exposed, I had nowhere to tread.

We are all just actors trying to control and manage our public image, we act based on how others might see us.

Erving Goffman

Could I navigate this messy crowd, baying for my execution? I wondered whether I was alone? I considered whether there were others, or even one other, who felt the same way? The way a new flower bud struggles to enter the world, but is too late, and all the other buds have blossomed and made their mark? Except we will not be asked ‘what kind of flower will you be when you grow up?’, because we are already grown up; by now, we should have taken on the semblance of the flower that we were meant to be.

So, instead, they will ask: “what kind of flower are you?” Who would have thought that what is usually considered to be a friendly inquiry, could turn clouds black, shatter my protective shield, my sense of self?

“What do you do then?”

“What do YOU do then?”

“WHAT do you do then?”

“What DO you do then?”

Silence. Awkwardness. “Well I …”

Following an awkward grimace, I would try to make sense of this question and ponder on it. What would I say had I posed that question to myself whilst no one was listening? Would I explain that I was still navigating the question of identity confusion and that life had somehow obliterated ‘me’ from its agenda? Or had it?

How reframing your perspective, alters the reality of the story

If I were to change my narrative, reframe my story, and reflect on the positive, would it go something like this:

Well, I am a writer, and my path has been long and overgrown with nettles and brambles, and later, with patches of soft moss and dewy grass. I have recently rediscovered the joy of creating through pictures and words.

This was a joy I nurtured in childhood, but somehow discarded, as I followed paths that were not mine to tread. There could have been reasons, there could have been blame, there could simply have been life.

I have been raising a family, and my children tell me that they love me. I have had to bear the heartache of terrible things happening to those I love the most. I have battled with self-doubt and lack of confidence, but I am proud of the family that I have helped to create and support. I am proud of the friendships I have built and I am grateful for the opportunities that have finally presented themselves to me, I am proud of embracing these opportunities in my own dishevelled way, and I am grateful and proud that I have the support of people who love me.

I am excited about the new determination that is bursting out of the seams of my own confinement, and I embrace the things that I am learning with vigour and enthusiasm. I am reading, writing, learning about writing and taking pictures. I am still looking after and looking out for my children, my husband. I have neither the energy, nor the mental capacity for any more, but this is enough. I am enough.

These are merely the buds, but they will flower in their own time; that time is approaching. The fear in my veins has been shifting whilst optimism, gratitude, and purpose take their place on my mantelpiece.’

The invitation? I accepted wholeheartedly. I accepted the invitation to shower myself with kindness, positivity and joy. I accepted the invitation to bestow upon myself, patience and empathy. I accepted the invitation to kick my own butt. I accepted the invitation to revel in the excitement of my new ventures and to share my journey with my old friends. Lastly, I learned to be mindful before asking anyone, What do you do?

How clues from your past are keys to your future

What do you want to be when you grow up? Asked just about every adult who first met me as a child. Depending on the day, my age, or which way the wind was blowing, my answers were consistent only in their resolution and finality.

I want to be Little Red Riding Hood I announced one day. But more often than not, my answer would be a dancer, a maker of things, an artist, or a writer of stories. This last one was a trick answer because of course, I was already a writer.

I made little notebooks from scraps of paper and decorated them with drawings of flowers, fairies, and elaborate swirls. I wrote with ease and never questioned my stories nor did I need any validation. I didn’t care whether anyone liked them or not, because I wrote them for pure joy; I wrote them for me. I fantasised that in the distant future, someone would find my scribblings and find them fascinating.

Over time, fiction merged with fact as the notebooks transformed into diaries filled with teenage angst, confusion and longing. At times, anger manifested itself as random choice words scrawled over the page in various directions and fonts. These weren’t accompanied by flowers or fairies. There may have been oversized exclamation marks and seething swirls of rage though.

Now I am all grown up and never added flowers to the rage and sadness of those random words. My dreams had somehow eluded me and I pursued a life of mere survival but little resonance. When I was in my thirties, I felt like I’d missed the boat. I watched others climbing career ladders, and wondered why despite having performed well academically, did I never really succeed? I imagined that this was because I followed paths that were not mine to tread. I lived a life of doubting myself, and was queen of imposter syndrome before the phrase was invented.

Lack of self-confidence and self-esteem, expectations of others, fear of comparison, and many other factors have played their part. However I do not look to the past for anyone or anything to blame; I look inside myself; I take ownership of myself. My identity was not fixed at birth and it is up to me to develop it. An article on Erikson's Stages of Psychosocial Development states:

…the developmental stages and formation of identity is an ever-evolving process, as opposed to a rigid concrete system

Gabriel A. Orenstein; Lindsay Lewis

Do you believe you made the wrong decisions in life?

As my confidence lurked somewhere in the shadows, and life confirmed my mediocracy, I reached a point of pause. I could internalise the narrative that there was something wrong with me, or I could change my story

I picked up my pen - a Lamy, a pot of ink - blue-black of course, and a fine notebook of handmade paper. I began to write again. My fingers curled around my pen as my stories trickled from my head, through my arm, and down my pen; into the welcoming arms of open blank pages. And this was where my story began.

I reckoned there must be others too, who feel as if they are living in a limbo of lost opportunities and little or no future. Today, I want to challenge such perceptions.

My mantra now is to breathe in life and exhale stories, and to impress upon everyone who thinks it is too late to follow their curiosities, that it is never too late – no one should be left behind. Age often stands guard like an over-zealous bouncer, keeping us from reaching our potential, rediscovering ourselves, and staying curious. I hope that you will see how being further along the road of adulthood is not an end but a fresh start. With age comes a carnival of knowledge, experience, and lessons learned. I hope that you are ready to really start living, for your beauty to shine, and your many gifts to finally manifest themselves now that the rehearsal is over.

It is never too late to become the real version of you; this could be the version you never lived out or a new version you feel yourself becoming. Perhaps you are where I was before I began to pull back the weeds from an overgrown path and started to explore an unconventional route, a different way of taking up space in this world. Perhaps your decisions were the right ones at the time and brought you much happiness, but now you have changed. Do you want to explore new hobbies, change how you live, who you wish to spend time with, or how you want to earn your money. Big or small, the change you wish to see can be within your grasp.

How to take ownership of yourself?

I am preoccupied with writing, journaling, and encouraging others to embrace their worth and their potential whatever their age. I would like to extend my invitation to you.

My membership club is for those who want to dip their toes into a pool of possibility; it is for you if you are ready to unravel your uncertainties through jouraling; it is an opportunity to start writing about your journeys of gentle self-discovery. Everyone has something to say and everyone can reinvent themselves. I want to dispel the myth that as you age, you turn translucent, invisible, and you count less and less. I want people of every age to decorate the canvas of life with their beautiful selves and their stories. How will I make this happen?

How I want to help you become visible

Community – shared experience and mutual support means that we can encourage each other to develop and support each other.

Creativity – moving away from old narratives and embracing new ways of being and doing. Anyone can take up something new and often, all we need is a gentle hand of reassurance. My letters and essays will offer you options and reassurance.

Self-reflection guidance - through journaling, writing, poetry, or other creative pursuits that spark your curiosity. Prompts, tips, live calls and workshops will help you.

My membership club – Gentle Stories of Discovery, will be a journey to a living book of stories by people who tiptoed, stumbled or marched where their curiosity, interest, passion led them. Regular essays from me will offer insights from my own journey and tips that I want to share. Writing, poetry, and journaling prompts will encourage self-reflection and the unravelling of truths.

Because community is a potent force, I will hold monthly live sessions where we meet to journal together and then discuss whatever comes up. The idea is to ignite the sparks of potential in each person and light the page. I have offered journaling coaching in the past but it is impossible to reach many people and answer everyone's questions. This community would be a chance to escape to a forest clearing, where everyone's voice counts; where everyone is a visible and vital character in our story of magical re-emergence.

I want your stories to stir from deep slumbers and feel what it is to live. I plan to offer feedback and review sessions for anyone who would like them, so that these stories can bloom to their full potential and there will be a further optional opportunity to immortalise these stories in a book. They will be stories with a pulse, your stories of how you struggled, made changes in your lives, and how you refused to put a sell-by date on your joy of life.

I wanted to create a space where second chances are possible. For a long time there seemed to be something missing from my life and I’d had enough of never feeling ‘good enough’. Many creators all over social media are often young and dynamic; some have quit their day jobs to start afresh. Some haven't, but are still doing amazing things alongside. Well now it's your turn.

What would this membership look like?

I envisage a welcome video from myself, outlining some ground rules and what to expect.

I would also provide journaling tutorials - like a mini-course – included with membership.

A further option of one-to-one journaling coaching around, creativity, finding your path, and reinvention, will be available for a higher tier membership.

I would send out newsletters with tips, encouragement, and inspiration. But the key is connection. I would not be preaching from any pulpit. I am my own student, kindling the embers of my dreams. I merely wish to wave my wand of enthusiasm over others and share what I learn. Journalling is my place of comfort and it has been responsible for all my new stories of discovery. I would be honoured to work with you, to help you unpick your story, then change it.

Those interested may opt to simply participate in any live sessions and receive my letters and informative essays. Additionally, there will be options for individual guidance sessions, and the opportunity to be involved in developing your story and submitting for inclusion in a collaborative book.

I would invite guest speakers to offer tips and guidance on topics of interest for example, journaling with tarot prompts for self-reflection, meditation, calligraphy, and more, according to your interests.

Would you like to join me in a web of support?

Are you ready to embrace your needs, passions, integrity, and sense of self? I want to share what helps me, how I go about things, and any tools I pick up along the way. I also want to learn from you, so that the sum of our parts creates alchemy; so that we step forward with confidence and optimism into the world we call ‘our future’.

Most of all I would like you to enjoy my stories — some are real, and some are creations from my mind, some are short poems. All are rooted in real feelings. All are allegorical. All are designed to empower, validate, and inspire you.

I write for anyone who is seeking a more intentional, self-fulfilling, and creative lifestyle. After years of meandering, seeking validation, and procrastinating, I realised that only I can craft the story of my true essence. I invite you to take these steps with me, so that together, we may find our way to a gentler way of discovering and treading our paths.

Remember those random choice words scrawled upon an adolescent diary page? Those pages will inevitably still punctuate our lives; every good story has to have conflict. However, with our membership community, I envisage the resolution will embellish those pages with hope, fulfilment, and magic. Will you accept my invitation?