Over the last few years, as I have been going through a metamorphosis of sorts, I have made a conscious decision to be braver. It started one day about 3 years ago when I was walking by myself in some lovely ancient woods near where I live. It was at a time when my therapy was really taking it out of me and I needed some time alone. It was a lovely cool but sunny day in Spring, it hadn’t rained for a while so underfoot was dry at last which was a pleasant relief from the ankle-deep mud of recent weeks and the dappled sunshine was pouring through the trees which were just beginning to get their coat of leaves for the year. It was perfect for a solo walk to rant silently to myself. 

About half an hour into my walk I came across a tree that had fallen across the path. It was huge and there was no way over it. My options were to go back, go down the steep bank to my right or scrabble up the steep bank to my left. I wasn’t going back so it was an up or down choice. I chose up. The bank was pretty steep so I walked back a little way to where the bank was a tiny bit less steep, gave myself a talking to and went for it. There were saplings and tree roots to help me pull myself up and as I took my first big step up onto the bank I realised that I was just standing there with my weight on one foot waiting to slip down again. I wasn’t pushing on, I was just waiting to slide back down. That is how I had been living, a constant wait to slide back down from any progress I made. Something inside me said “Not any more” and I planted one foot in front of the other, big steps up the bank. I was hanging onto roots and small trees, making steady progress, and after just a few minutes I made it to the top. I was so proud of myself but more than that I had showed myself I can do more than I think I can. It was a start of a new way of thinking.

Since then I have noticed that I push myself more than I used to. I am trying to get back into running and I keep telling myself when it gets hard “You can do this”. Slowly I am managing to run further. I am also pushing myself to do other things I usually avoid. We have a dog and walk him every day in all sorts of places. His favourite places are woods where there are lots of smells and hopefully a river to swim in. We often come across streams where there are places to step across from one side to the other. Not a big step but big enough to make me stop, think I can’t do it and avoid it. I have started to ask for help from my husband or my son, to ask for their hand while I step across so I know they have got me as I try out the big step. Once I’ve done it I then go back and forth a few times on my own to reinforce I can do it. It makes it easier for me to try the next new crossing place I come across. It’s something little but it’s having a big effect.

It was really put to the test last week on a trip away with my family. It was a beautiful sunny day, really quite hot for May and we went for a long walk around the grounds of a huge family-owned estate that is open to the public. A river runs through the estate and the banks run down to large pebbled areas packed with families enjoying playing in the river. At the point where we were going to cross the river to turn back and walk on the other side we had the choice of a bridge or next to the bridge was a set of 60 stepping stones. As we walked towards the bridge I could see a line of people slowly making their way over the stones. There were families with children of all ages and I could see two little girls doing it on their own in their cute swimming costumes and flip flops. “How hard can it be?” I thought to myself. I hesitated slightly but one of my sons gently pushed me on telling me it would be fine. I didn’t give it any more thought and followed my eldest son onto the first stone. My younger son was behind me and my husband behind him. The stones were just big enough to get both feet on comfortably and were fairly flat. The river is quite wide here and was flowing well as there had been a lot of rain recently. The water was clear but quite brown due to the peat washed down from the moors. The human line across the stones was moving really slowly, one stone at a time. The stones are pretty much in a straight line so I couldn’t see what the hold-up was.  I felt quite safe standing on my flat stone with my children ahead and behind me (they are both taller than me now). After about 12 stones the girl in front of my eldest son told him the next stone was wobbly. He then told me and I panicked a bit. The water was getting deeper and I don’t like wobbly stones. He held my hand from his stone as I stepped onto the wobbly one and then together still holding his hand we moved one stone across so I didn’t have to wait on the wobbly one. My heart was pounding but we made it. I was trying not to think about the people watching from the bridge and concentrated on calming my breathing down.

4 stones later I discovered what the hold-up was about. There was a stone right in the middle of the river, the deepest bit, that wasn’t flat. It had just a pointy bit, flattened off a bit but just a pointy edge to stand on. I froze. It was like time stood still for a while as I looked at how deep the water was, looked at how clear it was, sparkling in the sunshine. So inviting on a hot day but so menacing at the same time. I looked at my son and told him I couldn’t do it. He is 14 and not known for his patience but, in an act of kindness I knew was in him but seldom see, he gently told me it was ok, gave me his hand and worked out how we would do it together. It took him what seemed like a few minutes to persuade me to move. I really thought I was going to fall in so had taken my phone out of my pocket, put it in my rucksack and given my rucksack to my son behind me. I was swaying on the stone I was on and knew I had to get on with it. I reached for my son’s hand and we made it over.  The relief was immense but short-lived as I saw that the next stone but one was another odd shaped one. I was really struggling now as the previous one had drained a lot of my energy and the stone my son was standing on was not very big at all so we were going to struggle to get me over the odd-shaped one and off it onto the next one at the same time as he moved onto the next one.  I froze again but not for as long and we made it. I laughed out loud with relief much to the amusement of some people watching. There was about 20 stones still to do but they were flat and the water was shallowing so there was no more drama. After I made across the second odd-shaped stone I looked back to see if my younger son was ok, which he was, but I realised my legs were shaking so much I just had to get on with it otherwise I felt like I would keel over.

So we all made it to the other side. All four of us, plus phones, dry. Boy was that a relief. After the adrenaline wore off and I got my breathing steady again, I was really pleased I’d done it. I’d been brave. I’d also not been too bothered about what the onlookers thought, I really didn’t care. In the past I would have been overwhelmed with shame. That was real progress.

I thought about crossing the stones for days afterwards and realised that I stopped doing things like that in my teens because I was ridiculed. I was the only girl and had 3 younger, very capable brothers. I was always the one trying to keep up, trying to be accepted as being as good as them. It stopped me taking risks, trying things out, as I couldn’t bear being laughed at. I felt it really strongly and it didn’t feel kind. Thinking back it was probably no worse than usual sibling stuff but at the time it really hurt.

My husband told me there was a sign at the start that I didn’t see that said something about the stones being uneven in the middle and the depth of the water can be disorientating. So he knew it might get hairy in the middle but couldn’t do anything to help me as he was too far behind. Luckily I was blissfully unaware of what was to come as I wouldn’t have done it had I known. Will I do it again? Probably not, but I might if the river is lower. As long as I have my trusty helpers. My oldest son had looked after me and my younger son and husband had looked after each other and the bags. I had been a hindrance but I had been brave and together we did it. Step by step. What a team effort!

June 2021