A Strong Woman. An Exhausted Human.

Frozen. That’s the word that seems to describe my current state most clearly. It’s been incredibly difficult to set goals and start working toward them. I’ve wanted so badly to write again, but I haven’t been able to, or known how. It’s time.

Several of you, my lovelies, check in from time to time to ask how I’m coping and how we’re doing.

The children have now been at school for about a month. Six months straight with my three little ones, 24/7, without a breather. When they were all at school for the first time, being able to enjoy the silence and solitude felt heavenly. My mornings are priceless now. Even if I only have a little over four hours to myself, it’s so amazing!

Despite how harsh life has been, I still feel cared for here, surrounded by wonderful souls.

Yesterday morning, one of those wonderful souls invited me for coffee. I told him about my morning and how much energy and thought it takes to get three little people ready for school. Up, get dressed, brush teeth, food on the table, pack school lunches, sort out everyone’s hair, into the car! “Come on, come on! Let’s do this day!”

And once everyone is through the school gates, you get back in the car, breathe a sigh of relief, and light a cigarette. “Phew, that’s done for now!” My friend looked me in the eye and said, “I admire how you’re managing all of this on your own with three children. You’re a very strong woman!”

I’ve heard that repeatedly on this new journey—how strong I seem. But somehow, I constantly doubt myself and struggle to believe it. I know I could do better, but I’m also exhausted and overwhelmed. That frustrates me enormously, because I know what I’m truly capable of.

If I’m honest, I’ve also become quite skilled at putting on a performance. Walking around the village, answering “How are you?” with “Yes, I’m doing well!” Meanwhile, the questions keep pounding in my head: How much longer can I keep going? When will I fall apart? I’m so drained that most days, I don’t even understand how I’m managing at all. Alone with three children, there is too much to do, too much to think about, too much responsibility. I’m still living in a complete brain fog, somehow crawling through the days with the constant thought at the back of my mind that I can do better.

Another day, after dropping the children off at school, I drove my beloved old-school Corolla straight to the beach for a swim. I’m so grateful to enjoy the warm sunshine and warm sea on an October morning, on an almost deserted, magically beautiful beach. Being out in nature and floating in the salty sea is so grounding. For a moment, I feel a little lighter.

That morning, I ran into a woman I know, who told me to go for my swim and then join her up at the café for coffee. Of course! We chatted over coffee and a cigarette, and she told me that her way of navigating life is to keep her eyes turned towards the open sky and her palms open too, ready to receive all the good life has to offer. But you have to be open to it yourself.

And that morning, this wonderful woman gave me what was probably one of the loveliest compliments I’ve received. She had wanted to invite me for coffee because she felt I had good energy. Wow!

These encounters, conversations, coffees and moments of sharing are so wonderful here, and they help me enormously. Further north in Europe, these things don’t happen so readily, but here they’re a natural part of life, and I feel honored to be part of it. You don’t have to be alone with your worries. Sharing life with one another, through joy and sorrow, is so normal here. Sitting in a bar with friends, laughing wholeheartedly one moment and letting the tears flow the next.

Looking back over the past six months, since we tragically lost my partner and the father of our three children, it seems like an utterly crazy journey to have come through. Little by little, I’m learning to live again. And it’s a strange feeling, finding myself in moments over the past couple of months where, in the midst of the worst tragedy of my life, I can also feel a little happiness and laugh again.

One hour at a time. One day at a time. Another week. A month. I can’t change the past, but I am responsible for how I live in the present. And with each passing day, I’m working on myself a little more, for my own sake and for my children, to get to a better place. I believe I’m on my way. It’s time to shake myself out of this frozen state!