I love this photo. It means more to me than any other that I have taken (and there are gazillions, as you can imagine for a selfie-queen). It signifies a defining moment for me not only as a woman, but also as a mother. A mother with a different family unit to the one she had always dreamed. It tells the story of us. The four of us.
Behind these smiles are an untold story. One that only those closest to me will ever know. But this moment? It’s the moment when I remembered ‘me’ again.
That may sound like a corny Beyonce anthem, but this photo signifies a re-birth. A visceral moment of finding your strength and learning to love your wounds.
Of forgiving yourself for making mistakes. Of letting go, of changing your path and realising regret is such a wasted emotion and that the rich tapestry of a beautiful life – a life really worth living – is simply the sum of all your experiences no matter how painful they are.
This photo was taken for a The Sydney Morning Herald cover story I wrote called Find Your Sexy Self. You can find the link to the story here: https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/find-your-sexy-self-20120304-1uaj3.html
My editor had prompted me and pushed me into doing it. I was terrified. I still remember the day as I was running around like a lunatic as usual between taping a TV show, frantically racing to school drop offs and assemblies, meeting my column deadlines, formulating a quick dinner plan and somehow getting it on the table, making sure homework and reading was done plus, from memory, we had a night time rehearsal for one of the kids upcoming concerts so we had to be out the door again rapidly. It was also pouring with rain and I’d wanted to get a blow dry for the photo but regretfully hadn’t managed to squeeze one in!
Basically in the story I shared how almost six years after the birth of my youngest child I had never felt better, that I had mourned the loss of my “former life BC (before children)” and that I’d come “full circle, squished through the mincer and popped out the other end happier than I’ve ever been”. I also interviewed the wonderful Dr Ginni Mansberg, who shared her aeroplane theory with me from her book How To Get You Mojo Back, revealing airlines always say “fit your mask first and then your children’s” and that women needed to follow that advice.
Truth was that was my part of the story was a lie. The truth is I didn’t feel sexy at all! I had just finally caught my breath and managed to get to a stage where I could go the toilet uninterrupted, hold down a full time job, find matching earrings (a task which seemed Herculean in those days) and not be in a heap of tears most nights distressingly trying to untangle legal jargon from divorce documents I didn’t understand which scared the hell out of me, emailed from my stern solicitor. (They were so awful and antagonistic I ended up doing a DIY divorce settlement without said scary lawyers on a simple handwritten piece of paper with my ex in a park, much nicer than a courtroom! But again that’s a post for another day).
But this photo very physically showed a new version of me and my lovely little brood. It may have looked different from the one I had planned – and was still yearning for. That one which was ripped from me unceremoniously, pulled like a tablecloth from under a full table setting, before I’d barely had time to look up.
But it was going to be all right. We were gong to be all right. The photo may look different to the framed family photos I had envisioned for my family photo wall. They were now gathering dust in the garage alongside my wedding photos. It may be minus significant others. But it was still beautiful. More beautiful than I could have imagined. And it still showed a family unit full of love and laughter with me at the centre. That was really important for my sense of self at the time. The Madonna role and its importance.
It highlighted there is another option for your Plan B life. That even though it might not be Plan A, it can still a beautiful life. That life doesn’t always have to be the rosy fairytale we set out for. And that if you happen to take the wrong path it isn’t necassarily ruined forever – as I had thought up until that point as the first ever “divorcee” in my good Italian catholic family. I was in unprecedented waters, remember!
Instead this photo signifies life could simply be the “sum of your experiences” not matter how good or bad. It didn’t have to be doomed.
I actually found those words: “Life is the sum of your experiences” engraved in a ring I picked up in the markets in Byron Bay at this time. They came at me like a bolt from the blue.
It was the first holiday I had taken the kids on, on my own. And it was monumental for me. Just the sheer logistics had terrified me. But I managed. Just. Parts were a nightmare, I even drove my son to the police station as I wanted them to help me discipline him! But again I digress, that’s also a post for another day. (FYI they didn’t help. I think they wanted to lock me up!).
We had driven up to see my sister and her kids, and walking around the market I had stumbled across the ring, or maybe the ring found me. I still wear it to this day when I am feeling my strength zapping and need a boost of empowerment, even though it’s a ring I wouldn’t normally choose. But the words really made me look at my situation in a whole new way. It’s funny how it sometimes a different vantage point can change your whole point of view.
Basically the words signified to me that you can be the hero in your own fairytale. That you can wipe your own tears and pat your own back (and even change your own lights and put your own garbage out! Hell even unzip your own dress with a coat hanger – again another blog post). And that life can be a wonderful series of messy adventures. Pain and emotion jumbled together with things of beauty, wonder and joy.
And that sometimes courage doesn’t have to roar. It can simply be the quiet inner voice at the end of the day that says “I will try again tomorrow”.
The way you speak to yourself matters most girls. And I’m proud to be part of a network of incredible super hero sisters & women. #WomenSupportingWomen.
NB* This Instagram Challenge, was presented as a way of celebrating women. I learned a day later was in reference to a much darker origin and started as a way for women to raise their voices about the hideous incidence of Turkish femicide. The Black and White filter to represent the Black and white photos Turkish womnme wake up to every day plastered across their news outlets of murdered women. This challenge was then branded #slacktivism as opposed to #activisim by irate keyboard warriors. I don’t usually engage in hashtag campaigns just for the sake of it. I have to feel personally involved and this new version of the electric chain letter was a more recent strain it appears. When I wrote this post it was heartfelt. The real original intent for the challenge had not been passed on in the resurrected version years later. However, since this has now come out – the original message about Turkish femicide – has been highlighted, which I think is truly wonderful. You can hear my thoughts here: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=898663993962079&extid=PtJCZteY47TmUXGm
