They say its a virtue, but it is not one I was blessed with!!

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post called “a little bit of a failure”. It was long and miserable and talked about all the ways I felt like I wasn’t doing as well as I should be. I cried while I wrote it and I cried when I posted it.

Sigh.

I was struggling with starting an incredibly overwhelming new job, having an entirely new life routine, leaving Coops all day every day and worrying about how Alex would cope long term being back in after school care.

Both boys happy and settled in to their respective care places in record time, but because the washing was piling up and B was helping with dinners more and more and the vacuuming was waiting a few more days than it ordinarily did, And I wasn’t instantly incredible at a role I’d never worked in before, I felt like I was failing. Like I was letting the team down.

The worst thing for me was that we knew it was going to be difficult. I knew there would be a settling in period. I guess I just wasn’t expecting that it would be me that needed the settling in period the most!

By the end of the weekend, I wanted to take the post down, hide it from anyone else being able to see it. I felt ashamed of myself for how much I thought I was failing. Where writing usually makes me feel better, this being out on display for the world to see made me feel worse.

We’re about a month on from that weekend and I feel like I’m getting my head around my new job, all the new terms and all the new people and I’m kinda loving it.

B and I are communicating a little better and I’ve realised that parenting is meant to be a team effort. I can’t base this experience on my last when all the pressure was on me because last time there was no choice.

Not only is B there for me to rely on, but he wants the responsibilities that come with parenting, that come with sharing a life with someone. I guess that’s something I’ve never known before.

It’s sort of wonderful.

We are getting the housework and chores under control and I feel a little ridiculous at just how insane I’d been thinking I could transition with the snap of some fingers.

This past week has been yet another roller coaster. I did what I usually do and took it all on and let myself get worked up, anxious, pessimistic and dark over it all. And then it all worked itself out and I was left with a lesson.

A lesson in patience.

Patience with myself. Patience when I’m working towards something new. Patience while I learn. Patience while I grow.

And. A lesson in faith. Faith in the process. Faith that I can get through anything. Faith that everything always works out exactly the way it’s meant to. Because it always does.

The thing with life is that it’s never amazing all the time.

People that say that theirs is? They’re not giving you all the information.

Life is hard sometimes. Shit things happen. But everything works out in the end. Sometimes not in the way you expected, and sometimes that can take some accepting. I’ve survived everything life has thrown at me thus far. I’ll survive this too! Gotta tattoo that on my forehead for all the bad days to come…

Every hard time I’ve ever had has taught me something. Shaped who I am. It’s a messy shape, with rough edges, but it’s a shape I’m proud of.

Every devastating break up has lead to something more.

Something better.

I’ve come a little closer to figuring out who I am and what I want with each one. I’ve made mistakes.. and then made more.. and learnt from them. (And then gone on to make new and different mistakes to learn from!!)

Every dead end, every missed opportunity that I’ve been devastated over.. They’ve always worked out to be a stepping stone to an even better, more meant to be end or opportunity.

It’s something I forget too easily. And I shouldn’t.

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