It was dark, a pitch black that not everyone has seen. After three whirlwind years of exciting challenges, colour, culture and fun I had plunged deep into the pit again. It was damp, cold, it smelt of algae and the walls were a dank moss green.
Penniless, Unemployed, Depressed, Emotionally abused. I was desperate and knew that I needed help. I put myself into the care of others, I couldn’t care for myself. I had a tick list to help me get up, get dressed and brush my teeth. If I managed, it was a good day.
Blossom. It was as if the cover of the well I was stuck at the bottom of had been pushed aside, a thousand feet above my head. A tiny pinprick of light floated down, and the jet black gave way to a dark moss green. I could barely register it, but I knew it was my chance. I waited.
Six months later, the day had arrived. I was excited. This day could only be positive. My coach could help me navigate the first few months of a new job and I was ready to take on what the world had to offer me. I’d begun to climb the invisible ladder that blossom had propped against the wall for me. Slowly, slowly. One step at a time.
People met, stories shared, connections made.
Who were these women? Where did they come from? What were their stories?
A spark ignited. Learning, caring, supporting. Tears flowed, discoveries made, strengths unearthed, lessons learned.
Everyone has different strengths and it’s okay to have preferences. There is no ‘should’ when it comes to personality. Not everyone has the talent you do, not everyone likes the same things, but the differences between us are what makes us human and ought to be celebrated. I’d met someone new - I wanted this relationship to be different. I'd need to celebrate the differences between us.
Breathe. Give your mind time to breathe. If you want your body to stay well, you look after it. Your mind is the same. Enough sleep, nutrition, and kind thoughts. My new job was making this difficult. Taking enough holiday for your body and mind – every day.
Being creative is not all arts and crafts. A good idea, a new colour scheme for a room, an inventive way to stay in touch with a friend, a new outfit, a makeover. The style and colour workshop was a safe place to explore and experiment. Quirky, siren, classic, romantic. A historical lack of confidence from snide comments quickly bloomed into curiosity and adventure with the unwavering support of my new friends. My passion for fashion had been re-ignited.
And now? I earn double what I did last year, I manage a team of eight, I had an offer on a house accepted last week. None of these matter. I am in a healthy and happy relationship, not only with my partner, but also with myself. I have the confidence. The confidence to be me, to know that I deserve the best, to look after myself, to dye my hair purple, but most of all I have the confidence to be happy. I’ve blossomed.