I've just sat and watched Harry marry his Megan, and was I overcome with emotion, an emotion that I hadn't expected.
I've heard so much about Megan representing colour, America, divorcees, and actors, and I can totally understand why her marriage into the royal family was so important for anyone who fits into the categories that have been flagged, the categories that she unknowingly has become an ambassador for, but I didn't feel connected to her
I'm now old enough to have noticed a pattern, and I know that my mood is hormonal and will pass, but today, it's here and it's fierce.
I was gonna do a Facebook live into our community group to talk about how I'm feeling but I'm on the verge of tears, and while I'm not adverse to crying on FB, I fear that the emotions will take over and that I won't even be audible. When I'm in this mood, social media becomes a massive trigger and fuels my feelings of inadequacy, I know that it's healthier for me to stay away from it.
I've just finished watching Come Home on BBC iPlayer and WOW, it really triggered me, I mean REALLY triggered me! Days of processing and crying followed.
13 years ago I left my husband and my 3 kids just like the mum in the show had (although mine came to stay with me half the week) and so watching the show I was propelled back to that time but now I was viewing it with full clarity.
Please tell me that I’m not the only rebel struggling to rebel in a time when virtuous living is EVERYTHING?
When I say I’m a rebel, I mean a REBEL.
I started smoking at 10 years old, I started bunking soon after (you can’t smoke on the school grounds), I smoked weed at 13, got pissed on vodka on a school night out at the Ritzy, Tottenham at 14. I dropped out of school at 15 (yep not one GCSE, fucking wild) and I was dancing in bars for money in Tenerife at the ripe age of 16.
My day started with the realisation that Ace’s whole school uniform and PE Kit were still in the washing machine wet from the wash last night.
It had been my intention to hang it all out last night before going to bed (we don’t have a tumble dryer) but due to being so overworked (and yes underpaid) I fell asleep at 8pm and missed the end of the cycle.
While I’m sat here naively imagining the clothes being dry in half an hour on the radiators I’m feeling defeated and fed up.
I was having a chat with a friend the other day; we were discussing the difference between being a mum of boys vs being a mum of girls.
I was explaining how I felt my relationship with my grown sons was far more fragile than that of my almost grown up daughter and what impact that made on them as adults.
We started to dig deeper, why did I feel so different about being a mum to boys than being a mum to a girl? (aside from the obvs, tissues under the bed vs hunting out my eyeliner AGAIN from the pit of despair she calls her bedroom).
I like to swear, it feels rebellious, it feels controversial, it feels somehow, freeing and it’s become a bit like my trade mark, this has been proven 3 times, twice when I went on BBC Essex and once when I spoke at a WI meeting, both occasions started with ‘Welcome Lauren, please don’t swear’. Much to mine and other peoples surprise I did actually manage to hold them all in as requested (at least we now know it’s not Tourette’s!).
One of the mums from Ace’s (5) school recently asked me after seeing me swearing like a docker at my book launch where Ace was present, if it worries me that Ace hears me swearing?
And of course it was all in aid of METOO, a campaign that was brought about to highlight the (oh too common) sexual abuse of women, not just in Hollywood but in all areas of society was so glad that she ‘reminded’ us of this really bloody important campaign, a campaign that raised awareness, created hashtags and gave women permission to stand up and share their truths, but I feel it was a campaign that disappeared as fast as it came? When was the last time (barr Oprah) that you thought of it.
I’ve been innocently knocking back, on average, half a bottle of wine (some more nights) every night for around 12 years!!
When my 3rd child was born and I started to loose my mind from being a mum of 3, I discovered the perfect way of de-stressing after a full on, straight up fucking exhausting day of mumming, I’d just pour myself a glass of wine.
10 years ago I decided to end my 11 year marriage.
The feeling of needing to end it all hit me like a train. I knew we’d been having a tough few years trying to navigate our way through early parenting, buying a house and keeping our heads above financially challenging waters, but, I don’t think anyone (including me) saw this coming.