Why health, physical & mental, starts from within (part 2 of 2)
(part one can be read by clicking here)
So, with a spring in my step and a wealth of luck and opportunity behind me I began university in my new hometown of Derby. My love of performing and the arts led to me studying BA(Hons) Creative Expressive Therapies, the only course of its kind in the country, and one of 30 lucky students accepted onto the course. As many know, this is where I met James, my husband… Well, technically, it was in the student pub, The Friary, on Friar Gate and the rest, as they say is history.
Within 3 years of meeting James we’d settled down together, had our first daughter, Amelie and got married, with our reception at Blackbrook House in Belper. The fast pace in a huge change of life, as well as watching my university friends move away, back to their original homes, hit hard. As I was ten days from my due date, I didn’t go to my graduation due to lack of confidence and a concern of what others would think of my, rather large, Bump. Thanks to the coalition government, and becoming a mum, James and I chose to close my company which worked in schools delivering creative arts workshops, and focus on James’ photography business. He asked me to join and the rest - for this part - is, once again, history.
What I hadn’t foreseen was the stress, and judgements I would receive as a young, professional, working mum. With a ten year age gap between James and I, I was classed as a “younger mum” and James an “older dad” however, sadly, society and stereotypes cast a shadow over my capabilities in my roles as a mum (now of two young children), professional co-worker and wife. As much as I fought to be the best I could be, and try and meet other people’s expectations and pre-conceptions of who I should be, the more stressed I became. One January evening, at the age of 26, I chose to have an early night and went to bed. After watching some television I decided to settle down, to sleep, and found that I could not move my legs. I shouted for James and we tried to get my legs to move but they just wouldn’t. I could no longer feel them, my feet or my toes. James rang the NHS helpline which resulted in an ambulance being called. Despite a paramedic taunting me by putting needles on my feet, to see if my needle phobia would create a reaction to make me move my legs, they just wouldn’t budge. Four days later, after two MRI scans, copious amounts of poking and three different specialists stating that, under their care, I was completely healthy and therefore they couldn’t help me, I was sent home with a zimmer frame. To this day, we still don’t know what caused me to lose feeling in my legs. I had all the symptoms of a stroke but no scientific data to back this theory.
A couple of months after the event, whilst learning to walk again, a GP suggested vitamin D deficiency and this triggered something in me. If I had been so focussed on trying to live up to other people’s expectations, and work to provide for our young family and to prove to others I was able to do my job well, I had completely neglected “me”. A memory of being, lovingly, mocked at a family friend’s wedding, at the age of 15 or 16, came flooding back because I’d chosen to eat the fruit rather than chocolate cake for pudding. James used to buy ridiculous amounts of fruit, when we first met, when I went around and he found my love of fresh pasta and freshly made vegetable sauces a bizarre, yet luckily lovable, quirk of mine.
I sat myself down. I had a degree in therapeutic arts, which focussed on health and wellbeing, yet had completely neglected the signs that I was nearing burnout. The loss of feelings in my legs had reminded me to look after my nutritional health, but I was still striving to try and please others - the event of losing feeling in my legs, and subsequently learning to walk again, hadn’t managed to wake me up to the grim reality that depression and anxiety was knocking on my door - my physical and mental health was deteriorating.
Fast forward to 2017 and, despite advice from midwives not to have a third child, our youngest was born. A bit of a surprise to us both, but she was here and we were both healthy. I’d spent my third pregnancy dreading what others were going to say and do however they moment she arrived I felt a change in me to say “enough”. I am enough and to be good enough, for my daughters, my husband and me, I had to put my needs first. It may have taken three and a half years, but this is where you see me, today.
From my years as a gymnast I was lucky enough to learn about the importance of nutrition. From my last ten years as a wife and mother, I have learn the importance of mental wellbeing. It is important for me to accept who I am and for me to be happy with myself. If I think I’ve achieved something, I deserve to be proud of it and not care what other’s think. I can listen to my own body and work out whether the fatigue I feel is emotional or physical and make sure that the needs of this response are met - nutritionally through eating healthily, taking vitamins and also holistically by taking a day for me to enjoy - a bath, a bike ride or just an early night. It’s not about being on diets and keeping up appearances, physically or socially, it’s about feeling comfortable wearing what you want to wear - physically and socially.
These thoughts, and feelings, along with James’ profession as a Photographer and my professional background as an Arts Practitioner, have been the foundations for Be Bold Be You and I could not be prouder of what we have achieved in this company’s short year of being alive alongside the current pandemic.
For all of the women that we work with, I urge you to “be bold, be you”. This isn’t meant to be a cliche, but something I am passionate in. We can all feel lost and disconnected and if #BBBY is able to reconnect an individual with their soul, with who they want to be, then I am so fortunate in that I am able to call this my “day job” and these amazing women “my clients”.
With love & friendship,
Kirsty