I am still ploughing through the Chimp paradox and have come to the conclusion I’ve been living in a Snow White mindset. It’s really common and is more often than not born out of trauma.
Briefly, people with Snow White mindsets, are not born that way, it’s put there by Gremlins, like low self esteem, poor self image, lack of confidence. It causes some rather unpleasant “attributes”, such as Innocent, passive victim at the mercy of others and circumstances. Completely devoid of accountability, responsibility, and power to change the circumstances… not very nice people to be around. Something I am fighting this huge battle in my head to dispel from my life.
Please read on, because I promise this isn’t going to be another “poor me, sympathise with me as I beat myself up, blow smoke up my arse and tell me I’m fabulous” post.
Snow White does not look good on me.
One of the things I admire in my 18 year old daughter is her amazing ability to take whatever life has thrown at her, pick herself up and just get on- hard as it is to believe, if you read these blogs, follow me on Instagram or are blessed enough to know me in person- she gets this from me.
Yep. I used to be gritty and fierce. If life was a fucker I did something about it.
When Emmie was tiny we simply couldn’t afford for me to work full time, nursery fees were about the same as my wage for one baby, yet alone two . We were skint- I mean car running out of Petrol and having to push it up a hill skint. I hated it- most of all I hated seeing Nick working 50 hour weeks with back to back night shifts, I hated feeling reliant on him- “hun, please can I have some money for breast pads”- not that he EVER made me feel guilty for this- it was all me. So I decided that one way or another I would add some money to the pot.
I printed out some leaflets for mobile hair- remember I don’t drive. I gained about two customers a week- so that was £40 in the pot. Then I saw an advert for house cleaning- I picked up two regular jobs. Nicks mum would take Emmie sometimes, or, if I knew the home owners were not in, I would take her with me, stopping to feed her
I would be lying if I said I enjoyed it. If I said I loved walking 4 miles between jobs with my hairdressing kit under my buggy, only for the client to not be in. (Arseholes). Did I love the passive aggressive notes from the owners of the houses I cleaned? Picking up their used sex toys? Their teenage sons wank rags? Definitely not. But I loved the little bit of freedom it gave me- a gym class twice a week, being able to join other mums for coffee and cake.
I was once desperate for money for Christmas so I meticulously listed about 60 items of clothing on eBay. Walking to the post office 2-3 times a day. Wrapping each item carefully. I made about £600 all in. An old PlayStation and some games, which turned out to be rare, making me about £150 on its own. Christmas was sorted.
I got fat. I didn’t wallow.. well, I did for a bit.. I got my trainers on and lost 3.5stone- and I’ve kept it off for three years now 🙂
Everyone assumes my work ethic comes from my dad, he was a workaholic. This guy went to work with meningitis- putting on sunglasses to shield his eyes because the light hurt. But actually, I think I got it from my mum. 🤷♀️ she jokes that she has never worked but one of my resounding memories from childhood is going to cleaning jobs with her- when she wanted money for Christmas she got a job stuffing envelopes (is that still a thing?), she would clean the urinals in gents loos, the floors in supermarkets, even in the Butchery
My mum has some funny stories about cleaning- like the bucket of water she poured all over the floor in front of the manager at Tesco- or the client who locked her in her house after she handed her notice in- so mum lifted her rugs and poured neat bleach under each one- I think I get a lot of my personality from mum too 😂
Anyway, I really did go off on a tangent there…
The point I am making is that this victim state I am comfortable and safe in needs to go. There is no magic pill, no self help audiobook, or amount of therapy (sorry Dave), no man or opinion of a stranger online- which is going to do this work for me.
I need to harness that tenacity, which I know is in there- look at the evidence of her existence- I’ve left a dick head after only a year of abuse, when many people stay for years, I went to work, day in and day out and managed- for the most part, to hold it together in front of client. I allowed myself to get the feels for someone else (it may not have worked out and not been reciprocated but I felt feels, proving I’m not completely dead inside), my children are the happiest and most settled I have seen them in years, I was brave and rehomed my dog, even though it broke my heart, I bought my own house 🏡 I’ve recognised my shit and am determined to own it, rather than continue down the same path. I had Covid, am still not 100%, but am STILL getting back out running, I’m pretty much completed my colour specialist course. I’m learning to drive. I have signed up for a degree.
When you think about it- that’s not too small a list of accomplishments for someone who feels like a failure. In fact its pretty epic
So, new moon, I’m ready for you. I know what I want, I know what I deserve. I know how to get it. By being quietly bad ass 🙂
If anyone has any tips On how to trust someone again? How to open yourself up to being hurt and discarded? Because I genuinely NEVER want to feel this way again. If that means being on my own forever then I will take that.
did I mention I run? 