Reflecting on 2022
It speaks volumes about a year when you have to record your review of the year episode twice doesn’t it! It wasn’t that the first recording was awful, but we just realised how tired we are, because there has been a lot going on in the community and outside for each of us.
For me personally, this year has been a bit bumpy, starting with the loss of my Nan, my Dad’s ill-health, starting a Master’s Degree and then a serious car accident, I have to be honest and say it’s sometimes hard to take it all in. Not because I’ve not dealt with it, but because it’s felt like one thing after another to be honest, some of it good, some not so good and some it just plain fucking scary.
But, as I reflect on my year as a childless woman I have to admit that I’ve seen things shift in our community and things have also changed for me. It would be a huge elephant in this newsletter if I didn’t mention the changes for us all and how I’ve experienced them, especially in the spirit of me showing up.
I have to admit, I’ve stepped back. I’ve not enjoyed watching things change so quickly. It felt as though my Elastoplast was rudely ripped away and left a soreness that I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve watched people struggle, both those involved in the changes and those affected by them. It’s been upsetting to see the fall out for the people who I care deeply about, when this community has been a safe place during my healing and having that consistency helped me to feel safe when the world wasn’t.
Not that the safety isn’t still there, or that my feelings towards everyone that is a member of the community have changed. I’ve yet to meet anyone in our community, through The Full Stop, After the Storm or socially that hasn’t deeply affected me. The courage we show to turn up, be counted and be seen, always, always affects me, and I count myself very privileged to be able to help people heal from the wounds of childlessness.
But, there’s been a shift and that has been unsettling. Something that has defined my life for such a long time, something that I clung to, is starting to ebb away. And that’s my need to identify solely as childless. With that has come a need to withdraw and watch what’s been unfolding with the community, so that I know how to turn up in it. There’s an uncertainty and a vulnerability in that, because it means I have to involve more of me now in the community, not just the childless part.
By that I mean, I’m not just Sarah the childless woman, or the counsellor, or the podcast presenter, I’m just Sarah, which is perhaps why I’ve struggled to show up, be seen and to come to terms with the changes in the community. Put simply, it’s meant admitting that nothing will ever stay completely static or the same. Things are always shifting, and that can be good, bad or indifferent, but it can also be really unsettling. But, nothing, and I mean nothing will ever mean that I turn my back on my community. I might retreat, I might be unsettled by events that happen, which might not sit right with me, but I will always, always be here in the community in some capacity.
And so I look forward to turning up in 2023 and giving the spotlight to other members of the community, and showing up and being seen. We have so much lined up next year, and to see more new voices stepping forward excites me. I genuinely can’t wait to hear from you, meet you (when we get this show on the road…it’s got to happen) and who knows finally get this bloody CIC set up.
Take care all of you, look after yourselves during the Festive break and I’ll see you in 2023, you lovely, supportive lot.
Sarah x