Missing “ME”.

I want to preface this post, with the fact that I love my daughter and husband more than anything in the world. Would die for them, either of them, in a second. I know how blessed I am to have them, not for one day do I forget that. But still. Tonight, this Friday night, I miss ‘Me’.

There is a reason why I named my blog ‘The Hesitant Housewife’. Because I want to be that person, so badly. I want to be the housewife, the stay at home mother. I want to completely rock it, to be honest. I want this life, to be me. But, just quietly, I wonder if I will always be hesitant. I wonder if it will ever come naturally to me, whether I can 100% commit to the person I want to be. Because tonight, I miss “Me”. I miss the person that wasn’t my daughters mother, my husbands wife.

I miss the ‘Me’ that could be ridiculously irresponsible, and the only person who would pay would be me.

I miss the ‘Me’ that didn’t wake up every morning, and have to be responsible for a whole other life.

I miss the ‘Me’ that was fun, and crazy, and spontaneous.

I miss the ‘Me’ that put make up on, straightened her hair, wore clothes other than singlets and shorts/tracksuit pants.

I miss the ‘Me’ that left the house, and went to work. Chatted and joked with people, adult people.

I miss the ‘Me’ that was a coordinator, that demanded respect from people. People who didn’t giggle, and laugh, and run across the room. People that listened, because they had to. People who, though I didn’t realise it at the time, validated me, and what I had to say.

I miss the ‘Me’ that cares. Cares that I hadn’t shaved my legs, cares that I am wearing the same maternity shorts that I’ve worn for the last 3 days. Cares that I really don’t care anymore.

As much that I have wanted this, to be a mum, to be a wife, for my whole life, surely, I must be more? Surely I have not been dissolved by all that I have attained to be?

I love my daughter. I love my husband. I want to be everything to them. But, I want to be ‘Me’ too.

If only I knew who ‘Me’ was.

Am I the only one that feels this? Or are other “Mummies’ fumbling their way back to “Me” too? xx

This Blind Eye Can Finally See.

This is the first ever post, that I have spent days agonising over. Mulling it over in my head, thinking about what angles I’d take, what I want my message to be. Every other post I have ever written, I have just sat in front of the computer, written what’s in my heart, read it through once, then hit ‘post’. No time for second guessing, no regrets. Why is this post so different? Because it has really made me think about who I am, who I want to be, and what I want my blog to be about.
Lately there have been struggles I have been facing within my on-line community. Nasty words have been written, I have felt attacked and ostracized. Basically, I feel that I have been bullied, by people I once considered my friends. When this first all blew up, I had grand plans of writing a post about bullies, and people hiding behind computer screens, blah blah blah. But then I realised that is not what my blog is about. This blog is about me, about my experiences, and most importantly what I have learned and how I have moved on. I will not use it as a passive aggressive way to get back at people.

The truth is, this whole episode has actually lead me to think about my past actions, in questioning why some people can turn a blind eye to such attacks, I have realised that I have done the exact same thing, many many times. I am very ashamed to admit, that I have witnessed subtle attacks on people, nasty comments, little digs, I have witnessed these things and I have never spoken up, and at times have giggled along with the perpetrators behind the victims backs.

It hurts to have to admit this, to think that I am that kind of person. However, I really believe that I am not alone. That many people reading this have been guilty of the exact same thing. Knowing something was wrong, but keeping quiet all the same. Choosing to keep the peace with the ‘bully’ as opposed to standing up for someone who has found themselves on the outer.  But why? Why do good people choose the side of a person who is causing pain or humiliation to someone else?

When I think about it, this has been going on for so long, particularly in circles of women. Think back to high-school, and the popular or ‘cool’ group of girls- were they the nicest girls, the kindest girls, the girls who would do anything for anyone? Or were they the ‘bitchy’ girls, the girls that could cut a person down with one nasty comment? It seems, quite often, the latter.  How do they become so popular? Because everyone is scared to stand up to them. Because they know, if they stand up to these ‘bullies’ when they pick on someone else, then they will be the ones to be picked on. The ones called nasty names, lies spread around about them, ‘kicked out’ of the group, lose friends. So, of course it is easier to just stay quiet. Perhaps even feel smug that they are not the ones being picked on. That they are ‘friends’ with the bully, so therefore immune to such treatment.

Does this ring bells with anyone? And more disturbingly, can anyone identify with this situation as an adult? I seem to have witnessed it mostly in the online community; forums, facebook, blogs, but I imagine that it occurs everywhere, in the work place, sporting groups, social groups etc. People think that if they just stay quiet, don’t cause any trouble, turn a blind eye to behavior they may not agree with, then everything will be fine. And by ‘people’, I mean me. I thought that. I allowed people to be disrespected, to be laughed at, at times even (the written equivalent of) verbally attacked. And I said nothing. I went along with it. I let the bullies think that their behavior was OK and acceptable. Hence, I am just as bad. Every single person who doesn’t speak up, who lets bad behavior slide is just as bad. Because if we all stood up, if we all questioned why a person was treating someone else with such contempt, then the bullies would lose their power. They would be the one on the outer, they would have to actually think about their actions, and how it affects other people, and how it makes people feel. Every time no one says anything, then their behavior is validated. “It’s OK to treat people like this, because I get away with it. ”
I know the majority of my followers are mothers- Are these the kinds of values we want to instill in our children? “When someone says or does something you know is wrong, just turn a blind eye honey, don’t cause trouble” “It’s better to be friends with the bully, than be on the receiving end” ?? Hell no. I want my daughter to be a strong, confident, independent woman, who stands up for what she believes in, who wont enable bullies to continue bullying. I will be her good example.

I am ashamed that it has taken me to be on the other side, to be the ‘victim’ , to come to this realisation. Very ashamed, and I want to offer my most sincere apology to all of those people I silently witnessed be bullied in one way or another. I promise that I will not enable that kind of behavior ever again, and that I will raise my daughter to be a kind, strong woman, who believes in herself enough to have the courage to stand up and speak out for what she knows is right. xx

Reality Check

I owe a lot to the internet. I met my amazing husband on an internet dating site. We then made our beautiful daughter. I have reconnected with old school friends, and made lovely new friends who I have gone on to meet and ‘click with’ in real life (there’s your shout out Rach!) I connected with an amazing group of women, who have supported me and helped me through pregnancy, premature birth and beyond. I started this blog, and connected with a whole new group of people.
But here’s the thing- somewhere along the way, I got a bit lost in virtual reality. Because it is so much easier to be ‘me’ on the internet. I do not have high self esteem. I do not think highly of myself. I am working on it, but most of the time, I am a bit of a mess. But the internet, well that has opened a whole new door. Here, I can think out what I’m going to say. I can delete sentences over and over again, till I get it right. I can read things over, analyse them, and then change it, so I sound smarter, funnier, less desperate. I can choose what images I portray to the world. I can photo shop all my pictures, before I post them to facebook. I can delete pictures where I look anything less than close to perfect. I can present myself to everyone else, however I wish I could be in ‘real life’. That ‘control’ over how you are perceived is great, awesome even. Until the virtual reality becomes your only reality. Until you become more comfortable with the people who you have built an image for, than people in ‘real life’.
To have people actually come to my house, and see the ‘real’ me, sends me into a panic attack. My house is so messy, I am not like all the blogs I follow, who have daily tasks, and lists, and housework checklists. If  I make it from the moment my daughter wakes up, to the moment my daughter goes to sleep, without completely losing m mind, I am having a good day. I live in maternity pants and maternity singlets (yes, my daughter is 14 months old!) my hair is rarely washed, let alone blow dried and straightened like in my photos. I wear my glasses unless I am going out, and replace with contacts. I don’t have funny, witty things to say. When faced with someone in my lounge-room, my brain rattles around my head, trying to think of something intelligent and interesting to talk about.
‘Virtual’ me, is so much better than ‘real’ me. However, sometimes the ‘real’ me needs ‘real’ friends. Because, as much as the online friends love and support the only ‘me’ they are allowed to see, It. Is. Not. Me.
So many times I sit at this computer, and I write, with tears pouring down my cheeks. And then I delete, and re-write, and re-write until it sounds like something I  think people may want to hear. Until I delete all the desperate, and the heartache, and, what I perceive as ‘drama’. And I post a watered down version of ‘me’. And, here’s the real problem- I wait for people to react to the ‘real’ me, the heartache and sorrow that I feel, but not what I portray. I sit on the other side of my PC, and I wait for people to understand me, people that I don’t even really know, people that don’t even really know me. People that have their own life going on, their own friends, their own dramas. I sit at my computer, and wait for them to notice me. I expect them to know that I am crying, that the flippant words I have typed, mean so much more. I am so immersed in this ‘virtual reality’, that I have lost the actual reality.
So I have stepped back. I am challenging myself to reconnect with real friends in my real life. Because, if I am sitting opposite you, if you can see me, in my less than perfect body, in my less than perfect house, with my less than perfect responses, then you can see my real smile, for all that is great in my life, and my real tears for all that I wish I could change. And that is the reality I need.  xx

The Wedding.

So, last weekend I got married. It was a surprise wedding, only our parents, and at the last minute, a few friends who nearly couldn’t make it, knew. I should preface this post by saying that I have been married before. I wont taint this with all the gory details, but the crux of it was, I was with someone for 7 years, and had the so called ‘fairytale’ wedding to the wrong person. We got married in a beautiful old church, I had the fancy dress, the band, we even had a harpist. We spent a ridiculous amount of money, on a day that meant nothing in the big scheme of things. We were separated after 10 months, and should never, ever have gotten married.
I met my husband 2 years ago today. We have a 13 month old daughter and have been married a week and 2 days. And I know, beyond a doubt, that this will be forever. I think we have both always known that. When I fell pregnant, after 3 months, we didn’t panic. Sure, it was earlier than intended, but it was always going to happen. We were in love, perhaps from the moment we first met. We talked about marriage, as a ‘one day’. One day when we had money, one day when we had the time. One day. We contemplated eloping, just the three of us, but knew that our parents would probably never forgive us.

So one day, about 3 months ago, as we ate dinner at our kitchen table at home, the idea came up of a surprise wedding at our daughters first birthday. All the people we loved and cared about would be there anyway. We didn’t need all the pomp and show. We just wanted to be husband and wife. We already knew a celebrant. The only other thing I really wanted was a photographer, as we had no really nice ‘family’ photos. So that night, it was decided, we would get married. In three months!
I organised everything over the internet and facebook. I ordered my dress from overseas, super cheap. (In the end, one of my beautiful friends paid for it, as a wedding present, you know who you are!) I found a photographer on facebook, organised a small bouquet of mixed flowers from a local florist, my ‘fiance’ hired a suit. All of that was just details. My previous marriage had been all about the wedding. This time, it was about the marriage. The commitment to the man I loved. I would have married him in my pj’s at a registry office, as long as I was marrying him.

Despite the haste, not for a moment did I ever doubt what we were doing. Not for a single second. We wanted the day to be mainly about our daughter, and celebrating her birthday, so we just wanted a simple, quick ceremony at the start, then make the rest of the day all about her. We didn’t want speeches, or dances, or presents. Actually, more to the point, we didn’t need any of that. We just wanted to be husband and wife, and celebrate our miracle girls first birthday.
The day arrived, and I will admit, there was a slight ‘bridezilla’ moment at the torrential rain that poured the entire day, (the ceremony had been planned for outside, along with photos in the winery) But once I arrived, and walked down the makeshift aisle towards my future husband, and saw him fighting back tears (he will hate me for sharing that!) I was just so happy. So damn happy, you couldn’t wipe that smile off my face. I was beaming. Everything I had ever wanted was standing in front of me, declaring his love and commitment to me. Hands down, best day of my life.


When the celebrant announced us as husband and wife, and presented us to all our friends and family, I felt home. I felt that this was the moment, the place, that I had been striving for, all of my adult life.


Marriage really does change things. Although everything is essentially the same, I feel different. I feel secure, and calm and at ease. I look at my husband, and I know, that no matter what life throws at me in the future, I will not be alone. That we will face it together. That even if it all gets too much, and I fall in a heap, for the first time in my life, there will be somebody there to pick me back up and hold me until I put myself back together again. I am not alone anymore. xxIMG_6626-199x300