The post Celebrating Mums (And Non-Mums) On Mother’s Day appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>If you are a mum, I hope this Sunday brings you all the treats that you deserve, be that a lie-in (depending on the age of your children this may be possible…or as likely as a trip to the moon), flowers, chocolates, breakfast in bed – or maybe a Sunday lunch out with your family. Perhaps even all of the above, if you’re really lucky! It’s your day – make the most of it.
If you’re a childless woman who struggles through Mothers Day with a smile, all the while holding it together and praying the day passes by as quickly as possible, here are a few tips for getting through the day as painlessly as you can:
1. Focus on your own mum
If you’re lucky enough to have your mum around, cherish her. If she’s anything like my amazing mum (aka De Mama) then she probably deserves a medal. None of us know how long we have with our loved ones, but the fact is, we’re all on borrowed time. I’ve been fortunate enough to have two amazing holidays with my mum recently, and have written blogs about both our Costa Rica and Thailand trips. Make memories and capture them. They are far more valuable than buying ‘stuff’.
2. Be kind to yourself
If you don’t have children to buy you flowers on Mother’s Day, why not treat yourself to some? You don’t have to be a mum to be worthy of some beautiful blooms, like these ones from Prestige Flowers. They brighten up your home and your mood. Childless women can feel down in the run-up to occasions like Mother’s Day and Christmas, as well as the big days themselves, as it reminds us of what we don’t have. Allow yourself a short period of reflection, then remind yourself how strong you are and how far you’ve come and slay the day, girlfriend! You are a warrior woman! And warriors deserve treats.
3. Book a trip
It’s not Mother’s Day everywhere in the world! If you’re feeling overwhelmed by sadness at the prospect of Mother’s Day, book a trip to a place where it’s not Mother’s Day at all! Here’s the list of who celebrates when. I know people who have lost mothers or children who do this, and it helps to take their mind off the day’s celebrations back home. Ditto Christmas. Of course, Christmas is Christmas wherever you are, but if you’ve ever had December 25th somewhere hot when you’re from a cold climate or vice versa, you’ll know that it feels so unlike your traditional celebrations that it hardly seems like Christmas at all. I still can’t get over the feeling of spending Christmas Day on the beach in Sydney one year – weird, but fun!
4. Have a Non-Mother’s Day date
Get together with your childless/childfree mates (if you can find some – we’re a rare species) and have an alternative Non-Mother’s Day celebration. If you don’t have non-mum mates, join a group (like mine: The Non Mum Network) and find your tribe! Avoid traditional family eateries as they’ll be full of families and Mums Go Free! offers (ahem, what about us?!). Choose a swanky, family-unfriendly establishment and enjoy the chilled ambience and (uninterrupted!) chat.
5. Stay off social media
You know your newsfeed will be clogged up with proud mummies showing off their gifts and family snaps. In the name of self-preservation, stay away. It’s just one day. Tomorrow those same mums will be back to bemoaning bad behaviour and asking if it’s wine o’clock yet. Count your blessings 
That’s it! Whether you’re a mum or a non-mum this Mother’s Day, I wish you a wonderful day filled with love and laughter.
I was lucky enough to be gifted these gorgeous treats from Prestige Flowers which I had sent to my mum for Mother’s Day (don’t worry, I got her my own gift too 
). There’s a huge range of flowers available for every budget and preference on their website. Next day delivery is available if ordered before 9pm, there’s a £5 off voucher inside your order, and there’s even a free box of luxury chocolates thrown in at the moment too. Result! My mum was delighted with her early Mother’s Day treats – I’m sure yours will be too.
Oh, and non-mums – go on, treat yourselves!
Sam x
PS – Non-Mums, did you know that there’s a CNBC Magazine, and World Childless Week? I told you we count too!
An abridged version of this article has also appeared at Huffington Post UK here.
Fancy reading my back-story before you go any further? You can find my other blogs at:
www.costaricachica1.blogspot.
www.samgoessolo.blogspot.com
www.mummymission.blogspot.com
www.worldwidewalsh.blogspot.
Follow me:
Twitter: @SamanthaWalsh76 (lifeabirdseyeview)
Facebook: @lifeabirdseyeview
Instagram: @lifeabirdseyeview
The post Celebrating Mums (And Non-Mums) On Mother’s Day appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>The post The Thing About Things appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>I’ve always valued experiences over things, and this is never clearer in my mind than upon returning from South East Asia, where people have far less stuff but always seem so much happier than us Western folk. Can you relate?
The Thing About Things
The thing about things
Is that objects can’t talk
They won’t laugh at your jokes
Or come out for a walk
The thing about things
Is that stuff gathers dust
It clutters your house
Or turns into rust
The thing about things
Is they can’t make you better
They won’t say the right thing
Or cheer you up with a letter
The problem with things
Is the buzz won’t last long
You hand over your money
But what’s wrong is still wrong
The things that we buy
To fill holes that we’ve found
In our souls end up filling
Big holes in the ground
So whenever you think about buying a thing
Consider the happiness it may bring
If the thing won’t benefit your heart or your head
Put it back on the shelf
And buy an adventure instead.
Sam x
Fancy reading my back-story before you go any further? You can find my other blogs at:
www.costaricachica1.blogspot.
www.samgoessolo.blogspot.com
www.mummymission.blogspot.com
www.worldwidewalsh.blogspot.
Follow me:
Twitter: @SamanthaWalsh76 (
Facebook: @lifeabirdseyeview
Instagram: @lifeabirdseyeview
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]]>The post The Height Of Happiness: How I Grew To Accept Being Tall appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>Ella is writing a book entitled Yeah, Right: A Girls Guide to Surviving Teens and asked me to contribute to the Image And Appearance section, explaining how my negative body image, specifically around my height (I’m almost six feet tall), affected me then and now. Here’s my story:
The Height Of Happiness: How I Grew To Accept Being Tall
I’ve always been a tall girl; as a child I was the very embodiment of “growing up.”
I grew up. And up. And up.
Like many young girls I attended ballet classes – mostly because I loved the idea of wearing frilly tutus, prancing about looking dainty and elegant. Unfortunately though, it quickly became apparent that being the tallest in the class meant I’d always be sidelined for the female roles; instead I was chosen to play the male partner in the dance shows. While the other girls shimmied and swirled in their frothy pink outfits, I’d tug at my boyish shirt and pedal-pushers crossly.
In photos I always had to stand at the back, a body-less head floating above the crowd. When my nan made me jumpers she’d have to click-clack away with her knitting needles, adding extra row upon row to the arms, like she was kitting out an octopus.
In my early teens, my average-height girlfriends could borrow each other’s clothes, chatting away at school about which items to swop with one another for the party at the weekend…but their stuff would never fit me – the arms and legs would be miles too short. At that age, we all wanted to look the same – or at least very similar – to one another. Matchy-matchy, like a girl band.
When it came to boys, they seemed to prefer the shorter girls – cutesy curvy ones they could tuck neatly into their arms, dropping the occasional kiss on the top of their head. Which guy wants to have to reach up to kiss his girlfriend? I was about as curvy as an ironing board; my family nicknamed me Olive Oyl after Popeye’s gangly girlfriend (if you’re too young to know who she is – google it and weep). My mood swings were vicious: I’d shout and slam doors, or lash out at my mum for making me such an unlovable shape. It was a design flaw, a genetic defect – and therefore all my parents’ fault.
But then, something quite remarkable happened. I grew into my lanky body. People starting complimenting my stature, suggesting I become a model. I was stopped in Oxford Street by scouts when out shopping. I did a modelling campaign for a bridalwear company, where I was actually being PAID for my height.
Suddenly, my height was my USP (Unique Selling Point). We all have one – several actually – I just hadn’t figured out that my height was one of mine. By now I was almost six feet tall. People noticed me. When I spoke, people listened (I also have a very loud voice, but that’s another matter entirely). In shops I went straight to the bottom of the folded pile for the 34 inch leg jeans without complaining. At concerts I could see everything, whilst my shorter friends craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the show. I could reach tall shelves without a ladder. Boys asked me out. People looked up to me (they had no choice, but hey, it felt good).
These days, I love my height. It turns out that being tall is an advantage, not the disability I saw it as as an awkward teenager. I used to think my legs looked like golf clubs – huge feet on the end of stilts. I stooped; hunching my shoulders to try and look shorter, yanking my sleeves down over long arms. Now I know that my feet are perfectly in proportion, as is the rest of me. This is how I was meant to look. And I look pretty good (…well maybe not when I first wake up, but after breakfast, certainly). I’m 41 years old (which I know sounds ANCIENT to you) and this body has given me a wonderful life so far: I’ve travelled the world, got married, worked hard, danced and partied and laughed and cried. My body is strong and healthy and has served me well.
So if you’re feeling down about your appearance remember this: your uniqueness is what makes you you. If we all looked the same the world would be a boring place. Whilst you’re worrying about your looks, you’re wasting valuable energy that could be spent having FUN.
That other girl, the one you wish you looked like? She’s worrying about her looks too. Be kind. You’re so much more than a big nose, or frizzy hair. Your personality is what makes you shine; it’s what people remember the most. When you talk to yourself in your head, your body listens. So tell it you’re amazing. Tell it you’re thankful for everything it’s doing to keep you alive: pumping your blood, beating your heart, inflating your lungs. If you tell yourself good things, you’ll feel good. Try to look outside of yourself, rather than always looking inwards. There’s a big world out there, a whole life waiting to be lived. The things that matters to you now probably won’t matter to you later. When I think of all the hours I wasted fretting about my looks, I wish I hadn’t. My height, that thing I hated most? It turned out to be one of my best assets. I’d never have believed it if someone told me that when I was your age. Love yourself. Embrace your individuality. Be kind to your body. It’s the only one you’ll ever have. I wish you happiness and joy and a wonderful life. Now get out there and live it and stop worrying about your hair.
Sam x
To support Project Teen and get Ella’s book Yeah Right! A Girl’s Guide To Surviving Teens to the girls that need it most, click here. Please share this post to raise awareness of the campaign, the issues facing teenage girls and to let them know that we love them, we support them and we have their backs.
Sam x
Fancy reading my back-story before you go any further? You can find my other blogs at:
www.costaricachica1.blogspot.com
www.samgoessolo.blogspot.com
www.mummymission.blogspot.com
www.worldwidewalsh.blogspot.com
Follow me:
Twitter: @SamanthaWalsh76 (Life:ABird’sEyeView)
Facebook: @lifeabirdseyeview
Instagram: @lifeabirdseyeview
The post The Height Of Happiness: How I Grew To Accept Being Tall appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>The post I’m a guest on Mike’s Open Journal Podcast appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>G’Day Birds Eye Viewers!How are you all on this dull February morning?Now, those of you who know me personally and not just via the blog will already know that I’m something of a motormouth. I have a tendency towards being pretty full on: turbo-charged and as nutty as a tray of Ferrero’s at the Ambassador’s Reception. Some of you may remember my previous podcast recorded with Washington DC-based podcasters Sip And Shine.
Trying to get a word in edgeways when I’m on one is no mean feat…as Mike Douglas, creator of the mental health podcast Mike’s Open Journal, was about to find out, when he invited me onto his show to talk about my experiences with mental health issues, specifically in relation to infertility, IVF and marriage breakdown, as described in this blog post…
Having had his own experience of mental health issues and also a marriage breakdown and no children, Mike and I have plenty in common. Unfortunately what we don’t have in common is the same calm and controlled style of speech, so listening to Mike’s even and lilting tone will be soothing and easy to listen to; my own hyper and breathless babbling…not so much.
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| I wonder which one’s me…? photo credit |
So apologies for the frantic pace of my chatter – oh, and the fact that I sound like Pat Butcher from Eastenders…and say “yeah” a thousand times. Believe it or not, despite the mile-a-minute rambling, I actually don’t like the sound of my own voice that much. Let’s just say I make Bianca Jackson sound posh.
Anyway, thanks for listening! I hope I don’t send your blood pressure soaring and you can listen with a nice cuppa, and not require a vodka and a fistful of statins to get through the hour-long episode….
To listen to the podcast click here
Listen to Mike’s other episodes
Follow Mike’s Open Journal on Twitter
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| Who, me? I don’t know what you mean… photo credit |
Sam x
Fancy reading my back-story before you go any further? You can find my other blogs at:
www.costaricachica1.blogspot.com
www.samgoessolo.blogspot.com
www.mummymission.blogspot.com
www.worldwidewalsh.blogspot.com
Follow me:
Twitter: @SamanthaWalsh76 (Life:ABird’sEyeView)
Facebook: @lifeabirdseyeview
Instagram: @lifeabirdseyeview
The post I’m a guest on Mike’s Open Journal Podcast appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>The post We’re All Broken appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
]]>You are the star in the theatre production of your life; whether you’re the extrovert lead in a high-octane, all-singing all-dancing performance, a stand-up comedian using humour as your armour or an autonomous one-man show: it’s your gig. How you live it is entirely up to you.For the most part, we get up and at ’em on a daily basis; like Groundhog Day, this repetitive show is a long-runner – it requires stamina. Day in, day out, you paint on your public persona – for women quite literally, using make-up as war paint – and step out onto the stage.Some days, the spotlight’s warmth feels good as you tap-dance out onto the well-trodden boards, all smiles and jazz-hands. On others it takes every ounce of strength to plaster on that grin and slip into your costume, drawing a deep breath as you step gingerly out to take centre stage, the bright lights blinding you.
We all experience ups and downs – basking in the glory of our achievements and good fortune, cursing when the universe seems to be conspiring against us.
But what happens when the rough days outweigh the smooth? When you lie awake at night, dreading tomorrow’s performance? When your life really does feel like acting: you stutter along, feeling awkward, forgetting your lines? Sometimes what’s going on backstage becomes distracting – how can you be the best version of yourself, head high and shoulders back, when there are problems with the set…or the other actors in your show are fooling about in the wings? In this production, you are the star – there is no understudy.
We are human; we all experience peaks and troughs in our daily moods, our performance. But how long does it take for an acute case of stage fright to develop into chronic depression?
Until I reached the age of about thirty, I was of the belief that depression was largely down to your genetic make-up, a chemical imbalance in the brain; an unwanted heirloom passed solemnly down the family line.
Like everyone else, I’d experienced things that had greatly saddened me – which affected my thoughts and feelings – but I don’t recall being actually depressed. Even when I had stage three pre-cancer and subsequent treatment, which you can read about in my last blog post, I wasn’t knocked by it – I was young, healthy and never for one moment thought I might die, or even suffer any repercussions from the treatment.
By and large, life had been kind to me and I saw no reason why that should change. I’d been lucky. Generally if I wanted something, I strived to make it happen. Like most ordinary working-class folk I’ve got a strong work ethic, instilled in me by my parents from a young age:
“You can be or have whatever you want in life, if you want it badly enough – you just have to work hard.”
And I believed it; that’s how naive I was.
So it took me by surprise when I decided that, having got the job, met the man, got married, bought the house (tick, tick, tick off my list of life goals) what I wanted next was a child….”worked” for it….and then didn’t get it. Unfazed, I tried a bit harder. Doctors got involved, money was thrown at it, along with various quacks’ wacky fertility-boosting ideas and hippy alternative therapies.
Nothing.
That was the point when the dark hands of depression began to squeeze my soul – his cold, bony fingers reaching into the deep recesses of my mind, taking my logical approach and tossing it aside with a derogatory sneer. Days passed…months…then years, and my usual upbeat approach began to slide, replaced with desperation, sadness…then deep despair, accompanied by an anger so incandescent it scared me, a white-hot ball of molten lava bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t asking for a private jet, a penthouse – I simply wanted what everyone else seemed to get almost by accident: a family.
When the doctors finally told me there was simply no point in having any more fertility treatment, I felt momentary relief at stepping off the medical merry-go-round.
And then…emptiness.
Like a carcass picked apart by vultures, I was hollow inside – mentally as well as physically, having had the various treacherous organs that had betrayed me removed in the process.
Not only had I lost my chance of motherhood, I’d also lost something vital to my mental health: hope.
It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking into the ravine. It took all my strength not to jump.
Of course, life goes on – you have to work, there are bills to be paid. The world doesn’t stop turning because your life has unravelled. But how do you carry on when you’ve painstakingly laid the foundations and lovingly built the house….only for it to come crashing down around you, leaving you standing, bewildered, amongst the rubble wondering what the hell just happened?
Hence followed the hardest few years of my life. Everything felt heavy: my shoulders were stiff, my heart physically ached. Somehow I was excelling at work in spite of my personal problems and had recently been promoted, yet I’d start each day crying in the shower. My marriage collapsed like a deck of cards and I found myself living alone for the first time in 37 years. The silence in my new house was deafening.
I was now a Ms, which, as a mate reminded me with a wry grin, is “short for misery.” I felt like a failure; my self-esteem plummeted. In my darkest hour I contemplated suicide. Eventually something had to give and I stepped down from the demanding role at work and took a three-month sabbatical during which I gradually got a grip on my life again.
This is what I’ve learnt from the experience. Everyone is different, I’m not saying this will definitely work for you if you’re struggling with mental health issues, but I thought it might be worth sharing:
1. Are you surrounded by assholes? Avoid them!
I remember reading this quote:
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| photo credit |
If you’re feeling down, look around at the people in your life – is one or more of them the cause? Sometimes a simple cull of toxic friendships or relationships is all that’s needed. There were a few people who inadvertently made me feel worse when I was down, so I actively avoided them.
2. It’s Good To Talk
I was lucky in that my friends and family were extremely supportive. They often said they didn’t know what to say to make me feel better; they felt helpless as they couldn’t fix my problem. Let them know you don’t expect them to have all the answers, just being there for you and listening is enough. My mum was my saviour. Men in particular tend to feel uncomfortable revealing their feelings – it’s hardly surprising, then, that suicide is the leading cause of death in men under 45. Go to a counsellor if you don’t feel able to talk to someone you know, or if you feel you need professional help.
3. Visit your GP
For me, my problem was two-fold: a combination of situational depression brought about by my personal circumstances, combined with the hormonal imbalances created by gynae surgery and IVF. (I was not diagnosed with premature menopause until much later, despite having textbook symptoms). I visited my GP when it became evident the feelings weren’t going to go away on their own. She was relatively sympathetic, despite refusing the CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) I requested and dismissing my menopause concerns. She prescribed an SSRI (a type of antidepressant) which I was reluctant to take, but I did for a year or so and it helped. When I was ready to stop taking them I did so easily with no adverse effects.
4. Remove yourself from the situation
When I announced I was taking 3 months off work and going to Thailand alone to recuperate, some implied I was running away from my problems. “Yeah, and…?”
I can honestly say the minute I landed in Koh Samui for my solo adventure I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. I know not everyone is able to do that, but try to reduce your everyday stress as much as possible. Take measures to simplify your life: don’t be afraid to say no if you don’t feel upto something, streamline financial affairs, de-clutter your home and your life wherever possible. It helps you feel more in control. If you can take a complete break, even just for a short time – do it. When all of my senses were stimulated by the exciting new sights, sounds and tastes of Thailand, I found myself dwelling less on my problems and thinking more positively about the future. It was an epiphany. (You can read that blog here, if you’re ever really bored).
5. The drugs don’t work
Well they do, obviously, but only in the short term. It’s common for people who are depressed to use drugs and alcohol as a crutch, but these deplete the serotonin in your brain and ultimately leave you feeling worse. A hangover is hellish at the best of times, right? Try to eat serotonin-rich foods and take care of yourself as well as you can, even if you just want to curl up under the duvet with a giant vat of ice cream. Exercise may be the last thing on your mind, but the endorphins it produces will give you a much-needed buzz. Take brain-feeding high-strength omega oils, or eat plenty of oily fish. Most Brits are deficient in mood-enhancing vitamin D since it comes largely from the sun, which, to our chagrin, is often in short supply. You could consider taking a multivitamin high in vitamin D as an insurance policy if your diet is lacking. Vitamins A, C & E are powerful anti-oxidants (which you also need to process the omega oils) and you’re likely need extra B-vitamins, since these are used up particularly quickly by the body when you’re stressed.
6. Change the things you can, accept those you can’t.
They say time heals. This is true, to a certain extent. Take everything one day, and one pigeon step, at a time. Ask yourself, will this still matter to me in a year’s time? If the answer is no, deal with it swiftly and move on. How about 5 years? Personally, my health issues are permanent, and yes, it will still matter to me in 5 years. I realised that I couldn’t change the situation, only my attitude towards it. If you can’t fix it, can you at least alleviate the burden? Life is constantly changing and evolving, who knows where you’ll be in a year’s time? Don’t underestimate how much your mindset may have altered by then. The hardest part for me has been finding my place in the world, now that my planned life path has changed dramatically. What’s my raison d’être? It’s a work in progress…
7. Do more of what makes you happy
Be kind to yourself. Take pleasure in the small things: a beautiful sunset, a well-made coffee, a long bath. Go for a run. I often felt guilty about feeling so sad when there were others in the world with much “bigger” problems. A few people told me as much, which is not helpful since we only know our own feelings. Everything is relative. Allow yourself time to feel sad: lick your wounds, then start to deal with it and move on. Later, when I felt better, I was able to acknowledge that yes, there are people with much bigger problems than my own, so I fund-raised and volunteered in Costa Rica, helping disadvantaged children in the city of San Jose (you can read my blog about it here). As well as helping those kids, it also helped give me a renewed sense of purpose and direction when I needed it most.
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| Some of the Costa Rican children who put the smile back on my face. |
8. Get out of your comfort zone
When you feel up to it, stop just existing and throw yourself headlong back into the land of the living. If someone invites you somewhere, go. Stop making excuses; start saying yes to everything. Be open to new experiences – you never know what might happen, which inspirational people you might meet. Life is about doing not having. It’s about the memories held in your mind’s eye, not the material objects held in your hand. You want your life to be a Hollywood blockbuster, not some low-budget play? Make it happen! This is not a dress rehearsal: you only get one take. Write a bucket list of things you’d like to do and work towards them. As I get older I ask myself how I want to be remembered, then challenge myself to be more like the person I want to be : bold, ballsy, adventurous, fun. Which adjectives would you like people to use when they describe you?
Hey, I’m not a doctor, don’t take my advice as gospel. It’s just my own experience – how I’ve grown as a person through overcoming some of life’s challenges.
I guess this is how I’d sum it up:
You are a glass that has been smashed. You are broken. It happens to us all at some point. It takes time to glue all the little pieces back together. Occasionally you’ll cut yourself on a jagged fragment and have to start over, but you’ll gradually begin to take shape again. If you look closely, there’ll always be imperfections, scars. You’ll never be exactly the same as you were before, but that’s ok. Because one day you’ll look in your dressing-room mirror and notice that the sparkle in your eye has returned. As the curtain comes up on a new act in your life you’ll realise with a smile that, finally, you’ve put yourself back together again…
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| My “Eat, Pray, Love” moment whilst travelling solo around Thailand |
This article has also appeared in The Huffington Post UK
Sam x
Fancy reading my back-story before you go any further? You can find my other blogs at:
www.costaricachica1.blogspot.com
www.samgoessolo.blogspot.com
www.mummymission.blogspot.com
www.worldwidewalsh.blogspot.com
Follow me:
Twitter: @SamanthaWalsh76 (Life:ABird’sEyeView)
Facebook: @lifeabirdseyeview
Instagram: @lifeabirdseyeview
The post We’re All Broken appeared first on Life: A Birds Eye View.
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