I suspect that there will be people reading this that don’t think they have a story to share. I disagree.
Everyone has a story because resilience is part of the human condition. Of course, the practise of resilience looks different for everyone.
During my lockdown maternity leave, my resilience was propped up by a collection of angels in noisy, colourful disguise. Cbeebies: thank the gods and goddesses for Cbeebies, and those bright, squishy and reliable Teletubbies. They gifted me the odd warm cup of tea and the occasional toilet break in peace.
The baby walker, nicknamed the circle of neglect, absorbed my son Christopher for happy hours with its noisy buttons and flashing lights, while I grabbed a shower or scrolled through twitter. My little moments of peace and self-indulgence, facilitated and punctuated by primary coloured, squeaking, bleeping paraphernalia, gave me the space to take breath and find a little bit of myself beyond my leaking, swollen boobs and painful c-section scar.
The past two years have demonstrated a cultural, collective and personal resilience unimaginable to me previously. Together (although apart) we baked soda bread, we Joe Wicksed, we cheered on Sir Tom, we clapped, we cried, we mourned and we welcomed new members of the family.
There is a world of stories out there about how we managed. By sharing them – talking them over and celebrating our achievements – we can support each other, take a collective breath and find ourselves again.
If you feel ready to share your story of resilience, however big or small, please get in touch.