Saturday, 1 April 2017
I was going to apologise for writing something else when I'm not really in any fit state to write it, but I'm not going to.
I'm tired, my brain is fuzzy, i want to go back to bed, but there's something else, something strange that I want to tell you about.
I've never had any faith in my abilities, I'm hyper aware of my bad points, the way I dress, my practical hairstyle (if you can even call it a style!), my intensity that has the power to irritate and bore at the same time, and many more to boot. I've always felt like a disappointment, and I'm sure if you ask the right (or wrong as the case may be) person, they would confirm this. To so many people, I'm just not good enough.
Before going to Wrexham I was cowed, beaten down by having to fight for everything yet inevitably fail, and had no confidence in myself. I could fake it, but it was a front, a mask, and never felt real.
As I walked through the station to the first train of the journey I was crying, silently hoping that my husband would give me permission to back down and not go (not that I need permission you understand, more that I wanted backup that my instincts to run were correct). My shoulders were hunched up around my ears. At that point I would have gladly chosen to not exist, to not go through something I had foolishly chosen to take part in.
But I changed in Wrexham. I've no idea if this change will be permanent, but it's something I will hang onto and go with the flow of this ambition I have unexpectedly found, and this new found confidence in myself.
In Wrexham, despite my eternal scruffiness, I belonged. I was with people who didn't have the societal rigid expectations of fellow human beings, no-one looked down on anyone else, we were all equals in our own individual ways.
I don't think I've ever felt an equal in proceedings, so this is a very new and exciting feeling for me.
I came away from Wrexham with my head held high, with a glimmer of an adventurous soul sparking inside me, ready to start planning the next step in my life.
At the same station that I had trudged through in tears, I returned, and this time it was my husband in tears as I strode towards him, confident and grinning.
The guard on the last leg of the journey was drawing on passengers' tickets as he checked them. The photo above is my ticket, something I will keep to remind me of my trip to Wrexham, the one that changed me. The drawing shows me, a passenger wearing earphones, and smiling.
Whoever I am, no matter how I dress, how I look, how intense and annoying I can be, how stubborn I may be, it doesn't matter. I am me, I will always be me, and I am good enough.
I've found my people, I've found my spirit, and I will not be letting that go.