Writing to Dissolve the Mess
Writing is my ‘thing’. It’s something I’m passionate about. Even during physical and mental exhaustion, I’m plotting novels or articles, editing my work, studying or reading. But, despite having scribbled down stories since I was young, writing hasn’t always been something I’ve referred to as my ‘thing’.
When I was a kid, I’d say it would’ve been gymnastics or music, and during my twenties, definitely my family, my children. But there have been plenty of years when I didn’t have one: and only recently knew I needed one.
Indeed, realising writing was a part of me I so desperately needed to indulge was quite a profound moment. I can honestly say it was like discovering my best friend for so many years was actually the person I’m destined to marry.
I’ve been in a strange place since entering my thirties, not knowing who I am or where I’m headed. Sound familiar? It probably does, because, following a heap of research on my part, I discovered a huge percentage of women in their thirties and forties go through a phase. I call it my Transitional Period. Days littered with thoughts and feelings that I could neither fight nor understand.
My self-esteem was terribly low and I was sick of the conditions that came with being a woman: periods, waxing, plucking, moisturising – for what? My kids weren’t babies anymore and all I could see up ahead was an open space of loneliness. I was feeling less spritely and attractive and only grey hair and dentures beckoned on the horizon. I was sick to my back teeth, as well as my front ones, of the same mind numbing routine of each day.
It was becoming hurtful when I could see how people considered my tiring job as a stay-at-home mum easy. Why? Because I didn’t get paid for it? I became suddenly more forgetful and achy and needed bucket-loads of motivation just to play with my kids.
I’m not really one for discussing my problems with others so the intensity of a seemingly direction-less future led to me losing my grip on who I was. I felt an emptiness inside that no matter how hard I tried to fill it, it just never went away.
As a child I set high standards to adhere to, allowing myself momentary peace if I finished first or second in a race and scored in the top 1% of any test. Obviously, pretty ridiculous expectations and so I quickly excelled in emotional self-punishment, which became more intense during this transitional time, pouring petrol on the fire.
Thus, the accompanying guilt-overdrive pretty much finished me off on a lot of days. Surely my husband and children should be enough? The three beautiful boys I chose to bring into the world, who I’ve dedicated decades to. The husband who loves me dearly. Caring and doting on my family should make me satisfied, happy, complete.
Why can’t I be like all the other mums at the school, in the supermarket, at yoga? The ones who seem satisfied with their lot, the cards they’ve been dealt?
But the truth of it is, no, my children and husband aren’t enough.
Not for the selfish, self-indulgent side of me, at least. I love them and, in terms of importance, they would come top of every list every day of the week. Ask most mums and I’m sure they’d say the same. However, life is all about balance and this precise element was severely lacking for me. Every one of a woman’s needs have to be satisfied to provide support to the others. And during that time of my life, the others were crumbling.
What I realise now is that just because I need more than my family, it doesn’t make me a failure. Because, in truth, this is exactly how I’ve felt. Like in some way, I’d failed them and me because they just weren’t enough to maintain my balance.
But now all of these feelings are evaporating.
Some days I relapse, which is natural, but overall my ‘thing’, my writing, is unlocking my chains, tightening my grip, filling my emptiness.
As Women Writers already know, the reasons I now pay attention when my laptop and dictionary call to me is for the same reason I respond when my dusting cloths and vacuum cleaner do. I use them to clear up, to dissolve the mess and the chaos, to remove the unnecessary, damaging layers of everyday life. And doing these jobs improves every other portion of my life. It’s helped me approach everything that I do with clearer focus and determination.
For example, when I’m simultaneously cooking dinner, preparing tomorrow’s lunches, assisting with homework, searching out lost items, cleaning the dog’s paws, etc. etc., I hear a commotion in the lounge and discover my children gouging each other’s eyes out whilst my husband’s face is buried in a newspaper. Now, on most days, I don’t explode. I smile, deal with it and think about my time with words.
Of course, being me and striving continually to take another step up the ladder, has led to me edging the goalposts further forward. Although I will always be content just tapping away at my keyboard, I now want to share my work. I want to be published. And, with the help of so many wonderful, talented writer-folk, I’m nearly there. Offers have popped into my inbox.
I hope sharing my experience touches other women, like me, who are going through a similar search, looking for the reason they’re feeling so lost. Everyone’s ‘thing’ is out there somewhere. I firmly believe that and you will find it. I promise.
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Category: Contemporary Women Writers, On Writing
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So many truths in this post that I can relate to. Like you, writing has long been with me, but it became a greater force in my life once the children had grown and moved away. I thought of my forties as the “longest decade” ever.
Hi Kate,
Your article really touched me. I also started using – and still do – my writing as a way of “escaping the world”. I haven’t got children yet, even though I’m in my late 30s, so I wouldn’t know what it is like to be a stay-at-home mum. All I know is what I used to see – and hear – from my own mum what it feels like. I really admire you for finding a way to express yourself and feel fulfilled and balanced! And even more so, to share the experience with other women who may be going through the same phase in their lives.
Dear Dani,
Your message is what makes sharing such personal information so worthwhile. No woman, with or without children, or man for that matter, should think they’re alone. United we’re stronger. There is always a way to balance your life, it’s just a case of discovering it.
Thank you.
Kate
Hey Kate,
Only just came across this marvellous piece of yours today, via a post on Twitter.
You have been such a great help to me in the last few months, with your fantastic critiquing and editing skills. After reading this I now feel I know you a little more personally, so many thanks for sharing.
And again a very Happy birthday to you!
Debra
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Hi Debra,
Sorry I never responded to you on here. I’m delighted you enjoyed the article, and helping you has been an absolute pleasure. You have a beautiful book that will be sure to please many a reader one day.
Kate
Kate,
I really enjoyed reading this, and resonated with virtually everything you said, though I am another lifestage older. I still remember the grind of my 30s, when I felt that Egyptian slaves had probably had more time off than the modern mother.
Those”transitional” phases repeat over and over again through life, like tides.
But hanging on to one’s sense of self and creativity is acutely difficult in those middle years. The first bloom of youth and that sense of endless possibility has come up against some limits by then.
The spiral journey continues, though, everlastingly.
Dear Susan, I apologise for missing your comment, but I am so grateful for your words. You are so right, and, although I don’t look forward to the next transitional period, I now know a light can always be found at the end. I am so pleased you enjoyed the article. I wish you all the best.
Kate
Hi Kate,
I stumbled across your article through my twitter feed. I loved every word of it. I too am in that transitional phase having moved from SA to London in my early twenties, enjoyed the corporate world for 10 years + then embarked on motherhood and now ten years later, living in Wales and children are just that little bit older and there’s this void that needs filling. I recently embarked on a creative writing course at the insistence of a good friend and loved it. I have rediscovered my love for writing, something I used to do regularly many years ago. I am looking forward to pursuing my new passion and who knows where it may lead. Thanks for the fab read!
Hi Caroline! Thanks so much for your comments. This is the reason I wrote the post, because I know so many other women like us will feel lost at some point in their lives and it’s good to know we’re not alone, and if anything, completely normal! I’m so glad you’ve put yourself first and decided to take up writing again, if it gives you some peace and satisfaction, anything on top will be a bonus. Good luck.
Kate
Well said, it is realy very true that when u start writing, u forget everything accept the topic on which u r working.your mind only concerntrates on thing in which you are interested. The world of writing is amazing as well as happiness. This is the great essay I have ever read.
Hi Pooja,
I’m so glad you enjoyed the article. Writing, or any hobby, can allow a person to forget. It’s so important for us all to find one.
Good luck with your writing.
Kate
Kate, what a brave and honest essay! I relate to your experience on so many levels. Balance is a difficult challenge for me, as well. My oldest sometimes resents that I don’t show up for every game and event; my youngest gets angry with me when I’m writing rather than playing with him. But I’ve come to define writing time as my space to be “me.” I spend so much of my days as wife, mother, daughter, and employee, that if I don’t also find time in there to just be “Amy,” then I go a little crazy and start lashing out at everyone around me. That feeling of being nothing but a caregiver can quickly damage one’s self-esteem. I’m so glad you found your passion and are making the time for it.
Hi Amy, thank you for your support. I agree with everything you’ve said and I’m so glad you’ve found and use your ‘me’ time to keep within those sanity boundaries! It’s so important for everyone in your life that you stay in control and strong. Good luck with the writing.
Kate
Hello Kate,
I really enjoyed reading your article. It resonated with me, despite us being in rather opposite personal situations – I have no children or desire to have any as part of my future. But I found myself in the same emotional position as you so poignantly described – in entering my thirties I have felt lost, under-confident and mostly confused about where I am headed. Is this it? But I had forgotten ‘my thing’. Writing. I had put it on hold, shelved it for the last 7 or so years, un-questioning, as life and a career in education took over. As a result, a decade later I’ve realised I had been effectively sleeping all this time. It’s time to wake up.
I strongly believe that we don’t choose our ‘thing’. It chooses us. Once you recognise it, you just have to accept and embrace it. You have no choice, because until you do, you will remain lost. This process of discovery is very challenging. Downright frightening!
Writing was still there in me. I just had to re-discover it.
It was really comforting, Kate, to read about your experience, and the comments of others, at a time when I am feeling vulnerable, re-discovering my path – to be assured that we are not alone.
Hi Gemma, what a lovely response. Thank you. The reason I wanted to write this, and actually another piece I’m working on at the moment, is because, like you, so many women I’ve encountered at this age seem to be, not unhappy, but lost. Having a ‘thing’ gives a little direction back to our lives and hopefully stops us thinking life has to be about everyone else. It’s totally OK to be a little self indulgent at times, you have to fight your own corner as well as all of the other important people in your life.
Happy writing.
Kate
Thank you for writing this! This resonates with me on multiple levels: I am a SAHM; I have found my voice in my thirties; writing is the way I sift my experiences. For me, it is a shield when reality becomes too harsh as well as a way to more deeply experience the happiness and pain of life.
I’m happy to have read this. 🙂
Hi Shawna, you don’t have to thank me! I’m glad you too have your writing to help make sense of the complicated lives we lead. Sometimes it’s a release, but one we don’t have to share if we don’t want to – it’s no longer held inside and that’s what matters.
Good luck with your writing.
Kate
Hi Kate
Firstly, I’m sorry you went through a trough emotionally, glad you’re the other side now. I think I hit one when I was 29 and suddenly felt old, worn out, unsexy and a failure. Oddly enough, I felt better when I was in my mid-30’s so maybe it was something to do with the transition to another decade. Another unpublished decade. I decided ‘to be a writer’ when I was 22. It took me until 52 to be published, a neat 30 years. To get there, I kept hold of a goal as a bulldog keeps hold of a rubber bone. Sacrifices include leisure time, career and emotional security. For thirty years, unless I was writing I felt bereft. Unless I thought I was getting closer to publication, I felt a failure. I effectively cut the legs off my career, and my earnings over the years have been far lower than they might have been. No pension, need I add. Were the sacrifices worth it? Probably not if I add up the hard cost-benefit. But I didn’t feel I had a choice. Without writing, I felt incomplete. (Lest this sound like a misery memoir, I also had fun with my family and animals too. Wasn’t all gloom). To be published has exacted a high price and when I read others saying ‘being a writer is my dream job’ I mutter – beware dreams.
Thank you for your comment Natalie. And, as you’ve said, I had, and have, the best fun with my family – it hasn’t been all doom and gloom! More confusion mixed in with good times, which if anything makes it harder. I agree that to become a writer nowadays, it definitely cannot be for the money. There’s enough evidence plastered about the place showing us the appalling earnings of the average writer. It has to be for love, enjoyment and completeness. I hope that’s what you’ve achieved and good luck with your next project.
Hi Kate, just wanted to say every single word you write here resonated with me as a Mum of three in that “transitional period”, feeling that life is opening out through writing. Don’t you think we are so luckily to be living in this digital age where, for all its distractions, it provides access to other readers, writers and passengers on the same journey? Now following you on Twitter! Thanks for sharing!
Thanks so much, Lucy. It’s reassuring for me as well to hear that my experience isn’t just mine! And I totally agree that social media gives those in quite isolated situations and worlds the opportunity to mingle and share. So pleased to have met fellow writing women like yourself. It’s great to connect. Looking forward to chatting more!