BEAUTIFUL perspectives on my inner flamingo

When I was about 10 I was given a small record player of my own: mum had found one cheap on a second-hand stall and thought it would make a great present for me as I neared my teenage years. Unfortunately, I she didn’t think of buying me any records, so I sat, crossed legged, in front of my silent present until my sister came to the rescue. She searched her limited collection and found one that she was happy to give to me. Her choice turned out to be inspirational, although I don’t think my mum would agree. Being my only record, and a song that I grew to ADORE I would sit for hours, yes HOURS, playing “Pretty Flamingo” on repeat. Eventually mum gave in and bought me “Joseph and his amazing technicoloured dream coat”, “Peter and the wolf” and “My Fair Lady”. Well if the record is going to played on “repeat” you’re better off buying an album!

Inspired Flamingo when I was ten

Mum’s cunning plan backfired slightly because although I frequently played my other records I didn’t do so as frequently as Pretty Flamingo. Perhaps at the age of 10 I had stubbled on the Law of Attraction. You see I’d always been a reasonably confident if quite child, yet things were starting to change. I was being teased at school because I was polite, didn’t swear and didn’t answer the teacher’s back. Although I hadn’t retreated into my shell due to the prolonged bullying that would happen a few years later I was already starting to have less “sparkle”. So, listened to the record for hours at a time, wishes that I would “brighten up the neighbourhood”. I wanted hair that glows like the sun and eyes that can light the sky. I wanted to be more graceful so that I walk to so fine like a flamingo. Yep, pretty flamingo is want I aspired to be.

Damaged Flamingo in my twenties

Unfortunately, life often doesn’t give us what we want. The gentle teasing developed into outright bullying and my desire to be a graceful flamingo flew out the door. A tiny mouse hiding in the corners and scurrying away from danger was a more accurate description of my life. I eventually managed to turn things around in my mid-20’s when I started to “fake it before I made it”. I bought a couple of 1980s “power suits” and pretended I was an ultra-confident young woman about town. I met and married my first husband who was attracted to my impersonation of a “pretty flamingo”. Unfortunately, although he wanted a pretty wife on his arm he didn’t want “all of the guys” to look at her. He wanted someone pretty yet dumb and he would put me down at every opportunity to keep me in my place. When I was 27 I realised that, for the sake of my mental health, I had to leave my first husband otherwise I would end up being a quivering wreck.

Fabulous Flamingo in my thirties

As I entered my 30s I knew that I had a lot of healing to do. My inner flamingo wanted to shine brightly again after the damaged caused by my failed marriage and the death of both my parents. Although I started the new decade well, the progress didn’t continue for long as my much-loved step-father died. The compounded grief of three major bereavements in seven years took its toll and my inner flamingo flew to the other side of the moon, taking my mojo with it. Luckily, a few months before my 30^th birthday I landed my “dream job” as IT trainer and I was loving that. Then 18 month later fate worked in my favour again as I landed my dream job at the most prestigious IT training company in the UK. I still needed to “fake it until I made it” pretending that I was a confident, experienced trainer whilst I became that person. As my confidence in the training room grew that confidence spilled out into the rest of my life. My friends recognised the difference and so did new people that I was meeting: my flamingo had returned, and I was brightening up the neighbourhood again. I’m not sure if “every guy would make (me) his, if he just could, if (I) just would”: however, everything was perfectly aligned for me to meet and fall in love with Andrew. Yes, then end of my first was fabulous for this would-be flamingo.

Fading Flamingo in my forties

To be honest, my forties didn’t start at all well despite being on holiday in The Bahamas. We arrived four days before my birthday in the last plane to land in Nassau prior to Hurricane Noel shutting down the airports. We were stuck in Nassau for a couple of days waiting for the hurricane to pass. Eventually we got to Exuma to find that there had been a mix up in the accommodation booking so we had to make alternative arrangements on an island that was reeling from it’s first major hurricane sideswipe in over 100 years. Whilst being a 40^th birthday holiday I would never forget it wasn’t quite what I had planned. Little did I know that far worse was in store. Within the first three hours of my birthday starting I woke up in screaming agony. Having been charting for several years I knew I was about to ovulate (conceiving our first baby whilst in The Bahamas would have been a dream come true) so I knew enough about my body to realise that the pain was my left ovary in severe distress. There wasn’t much I could do whilst on holiday, apart from drink G&T to ease the pain, so arranged a visit to my doctor as soon as we returned home. Three months later I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. Despite having displayed no previous symptoms I had very aggressive Stage 4 endo that needed specialist laser surgery in order to prepare my body for IVF. The grief hit fast and hit hard, although I didn’t realise it was grief for another seven years. My poor flamingo was limp, lifeless and totally drained of colour and I feared I would never hold my head up high again. Too much damage had been done.

Flamboyant Flamingo entering my fifties

Now that I have entered my fifties I’ve looked back over the last decade and thought WOW did that all really happen to me? I’m also amazed that I have found my way towards acceptance whilst being astounded that it took me so long to make a start. I’ve realised that for years I really didn’t think that any tangible degree of healing was possible. I would look at other people who were making strides forward and shining a light for people following in their wake and think “well it’s different for them.” My infertility grief, compounded by the grief of becoming an orphan in my mid-twenties, is too much to recover from. Thankfully I was WRONG. It IS possible to find a way to heal, if you believe, even a tiny bit, that healing is possible. In life coaching we often talk about self-fulfilling prophecies: if you wake up thinking you are going to have a terrible day, you will have a terrible day. Thankfully the reverse is also true: if you think the day will be fabulous it will be fabulous. Your thoughts will have an impact on your ability to heal. For years I refuse to acknowledge that there was even the slightest possibility that I could be happy again, so I wasn’t. The single biggest breakthrough in my path towards healing and acceptable is believing that it might be possible, even though I may have to “fake it till I make it” for a little while. Now that I am embracing my Canbace life, my impersonation of someone who is making progress is turning into a reality. As such I shall be welcoming home my flamingo with open arms and together we are going to be fabulous and extremely flamboyant!

These fabulously flamboyant flamingos are the work of Fiona Meakin who kindly gave me permission to use them in this blog. She creates a wide range of cards and gift perfect for birthdays, weddings and Christmas. Many of her designs would be perfect if you have young nieces or nephews you want to treat. You can look at her designs at her on-line shop www.fionameakin.bigcartel.com or on Instagram (@fionameakin)

You can find out more about her design and illustration work on her website www.fionameakin.com whilst most of her work is aimed at the children’s market she’s happy to discuss any other projects where her quirky and vibrant designs might be a good fit.

In CANBACE friendship!

If anything I have written resonates I’d love to hear from you in the comments. I appreciate that this can be a difficult subject to speak openly about so if you don’t want me to publish your comment on the website please let me know and I will keep your words private.