STEPPING OUT OF MY SAFE PLACE

"A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there"

Recently, l had started to think that all chat about "stepping out of your comfort zone" was so cliche. In fact, that phrase really started to bug me. I felt like I had done all my being brave and trying new things in my teens and twenties. I had found my "safe place" and just was not interested in doing things that made me feel uncomfortable or anxious. I'm thirty now for goodness sake.

That was just me talking myself out of doing anything that made me feel remotely insecure.

Well that was all going to change.

God had a different plan.

It's always the way with me.

The things I say I am not going to do, they are always the things that I end up doing.

You see, I had lost my brave!

I have been so involved in being "mummy" that I lost "Grace" along the way. Being "Mum" is my safe place you see. I feel needed, I feel wanted, I feel fulfilled in that role. I wouldn't change it for the world.

After I had Freddie, it was mum guilt that stopped me doing anything  I was so riddled with postpartum anxiety that I couldn't focus on anything else - it beginning to become detrimental to my marriage and my family life. I needed to make a change. I needed to  start doing things just for me, whether that was simply popping out to do a grocery shop alone, meeting a friend for coffee, having a shopping day with my mum. I needed time for me. You might be reading this and think that it was selfish of me, but as mothers we need to look after ourselves. We need those thirty minutes of quiet, of sanity, that time to think, that chat with a friend, that hour spent at the gym, we need to refresh and we need to find ourselves again amongst the nappies, and feeds, and endless washing.


I was happy in that safe place.
Content with the small changes

Then I had Alex.
Two children...twice the work, twice the washing, twice the stress, twice the love.

But I was determined. Determined that I would look after myself better this time. I would trust my husband with the boys and I would take time for myself and do something scary at least once a month. I needed to. I did not want to find myself in that downward spiral again.

I am so glad that I did.
I am so glad that I have found my brave again.

Brave enough to start this blog. Brave enough to meet a group of complete strangers for coffee, brave enough to even talk to someone I don't know, brave enough to sign up for a workshop alone, brave enough to share snippets of my life, my family and my faith. Brave enough to open myself up to criticism and brave enough to follow God's leading.

I listened to my heart and to that still, small voice of God, prompting me to do things that scared me.

Without faith in God, I don't think I would have been able to do any of those things. You see, my strength comes from the Lord. On my own I am nothing but a wimp. I believe I am at a new stage of growth in my relationship with the Lord. That I am connecting with people and really clicking with a few of them for a reason.

 This is an exciting season of life.

I am ready for more challenges.

I am ready for more growth.

I am ready to be brave!

(The image at the top is the photo I shared the day after #cuppaforkindness meetup. This is my reminder that I can do these things, that I can step out and do the things that scare me the most.)