speaking up

Strength is: Letting people be there for you

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Strength is: Letting people be there for youA couple of years ago one of my best friends and I arranged to spend a Saturday at a spa.

It sounds like a wonderful, relaxing way to spend a weekend. And it would have been, if I hadn’t been deep in the throes of what I now know was panic disorder. It’s hard to describe what I felt like at that time without just repeatedly saying words like INSANE and HORRIBLE and LIKE MY HEART AND BRAIN WERE TRYING TO DIG THEIR WAY OUT OF MY BODY THROUGH MY MOUTH.

I can look back on it now and understand it, but at the time I had no idea what was going on. I had constant panic attacks – I mean, about 25 to 30 a day – whilst trying to hold down a job, a marriage, and a social life. It was not fun.

And there came a point during this day when I just couldn’t take it any more. On the face of it I was just another woman, laughing and joking and sitting in rooms of varying temperature with her friend. But on the inside I was losing my freaking mind. So I decided to tell my friend what I was going through, and that I didn’t know what to do about it.

I think about that moment a lot. About the weight that lifted from my shoulders when I admitted it. About the fact that I could see she didn’t even think about judging me. And about the unquestioning support I’ve had ever since.

Why am I talking about this now? Well, it’s partly because time and distance are a marvellous thing. I can look back on that period – and I do, daily – and see everything it taught me. About myself, about my friends, and about what it takes to admit that you’re suffering.

The older we get, the deeper our friendships become. I guess it’s because we have less time and therefore less motivation to hang around people with whom we feel we need to pretend to be OK when we’re not OK.

I value every conversation I have with friends where we tell each other what’s really going on. But even more than that, I value the courage and the strength it takes for any of us to talk about it in the first place.

Strength is: Letting people be there for youOn reflection it took me months to admit what was happening to me. I thought that it would pass. I thought that I could handle it. I thought I had to handle it. Saying it was only the beginning – I had a long way to go before things got better – but you can’t get to step 20 without taking step one, and once I’d taken it, I didn’t look back.

We all want to just be all right. It’s more fun to be around, it’s more appealing, and it makes for better Instagram posts. But life doesn’t always let us off so easily.

I’m about a month away from having our baby and, to be honest, I’m amazed that I haven’t yet totally lost my sh*t. I’m not saying I haven’t come close, but I’ve found the knowledge that any anxiety I experience is also felt by the baby to be marvellously grounding. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my moments, but my focus is clear and all I can say is that it’s helping so far.

But I’m also realistic. I know that I have a weakness and I’m not letting it out of my sight. I’m trying to tell myself and those around me now that if I struggle after I’ve had the baby, I want to feel able to say so. All anybody can do is take it day by day, so that’s what I’m doing.

When you’re in the thick of a struggle and you let people in on what’s happening to you, you feel like you’re making such a fuss. Like you’re moaning and exaggerating, and bothering people with the contents of your mind.

And it’s only when you’re on the other side – when somebody speaks to you about what they’re going through – that you can see that simply isn’t the case. They’re not over-sharing or being dramatic, they’re being brave and strong, and giving you the chance to be there for them, which is a gift, actually.

I will never regret finding the courage to say something about what was happening to me. And I can only hope that others will do the same when they need to, too.

Growing up and learning to find your voice

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Step right upWe were watching that episode of The Simpsons where Bart fights back against Nelson’s crew when they pick on Lisa and he gets beaten up for it. Marge wants Bart to report it to Principal Skinner but Homer says he can’t, it’s against the code of the school yard, which states:

  1. Don’t tattle
  2. Always make fun of those different from you
  3. Never say anything unless you’re sure everyone feels the same way you do

So instead, Bart puts together an army and teaches Nelson a lesson. It’s every bullied child’s dream outcome and makes for a great episode. We had it on video at home so I know it pretty much word for word.

That code really does exist, or it certainly did at my school. To tattle or ‘dob in’ as us cool kids used to call it was very much frowned upon. Rule 2 was definitely kept to – sometimes at my expense, sometimes at other people’s, and I wouldn’t go back to that way of life for all the money in the world. 

And rule 3 – I followed that so closely that I’m still learning to break it. I’m 31 years old and I know I don’t always value my voice. And I don’t think I’m alone in that – I think lots of us struggle to remember we have as much right to speak up as anyone else.

When we step into the real world, independence forces us to stand on our own. And with that comes a daily set of decisions – about whether to stand up for ourselves, for other people, and for what we think is right. Sometimes we make the correct call, sometimes we pick the wrong argument, and sometimes we walk away, never knowing what we could or should have done.

How to interact with people is a life-long course that we never finish taking. And the hardest part, in my view, is working out how to stand your ground without smashing it to pieces. How to say your piece without just screaming the house down or calling people names. How to come away having made a sound argument and, ideally, having persuaded somebody to think a little differently.

NoIf having arguments with people in your head isn’t one of your favourite pastimes then I guess we’re just very different people but I do it ALL the time. I run through exactly what I’d say if only I had the guts and the promise of no repercussions. I’m excellent at it when I have total control, but sadly the world will never know.

In reality, speaking up can sometimes feel like a maverick thing to do, even when it’s totally justified. Whether it’s to say no, I’d rather we didn’t split the bill, I only had a tap water and a side, or, actually, that was my idea, not yours and you know it, or I’m not going to let you speak to me that way, fighting back can feel so bold. I am doing it now, more and more, but I’m never not shaking afterwards.

There are lots of things that can make speaking up feel like the hardest thing in the world. Louder voices, hierarchy, education, subject matter. Sometimes you worry that you’re going to ruin a nice time by contradicting a group decision or a consensus. But it’s OK – as always, it’s all about how you say it. Think like a human being and you’ll be fine.

I’m talking about this now because it feels more important than ever that we’re not afraid to speak up for what’s right. There’s a lot of nastiness, a lot of hate, and a lot of frightening rhetoric around. In this country, in the US, all over. And if we don’t speak out against it and challenge those trying to marginalise and disempower people, it’s going to become the norm. Then goodness knows what comes next.

Of course, what I’m talking about is more complex and important than minor social disagreements, but empowering yourself to take those on puts you in a better position to tackle the big stuff when it comes – and anyway, this is also where you’re likely to hear a lot of it. Whether it’s misogyny over the dinner table or racism on social media or bullying amongst so-called friends – it’s our duty to call it out and push for kindness, equality and understanding instead.

I have a voice and so do you and we don’t just deserve to use them, we have to. If The Simpsons has taught us anything, it’s that bullies know exactly what they are, they just think they can get away with it.