Does April still count as the first part of the year? In my heart of hearts, I know it’s not. But it’s still in the first third of the year, so let’s go with that!
I have never been one to join in with the January ‘new year, new me’ brigade. Not because I don’t believe in moments of re-birth and change, just because I think January is bit of a naff time for it. Winter is hard and cold, we spend most of our time trying to simply survive. It’s a time for blankets and fires, slow movement, hearty food, and rosy cheeks. I’d much rather take joy in slowing down and snuggling down than considering how I want to be a better person/fitter person/more attentive person/more more-ish person.
But April? It’s the season of change! Flowers sprout from the earth, the sun shines brighter, the frost retreats. Even the rain feels different. The new season is here, baby, and I am starting my 2026. And with that, I have chosen a word to bring with me through the year –
Authenticity.
I want to find who I am and live the way she deserves. Back when I was in my early twenties, I used to think I had a strong hold on who I was – personality wise, style, ethics, ethos. I was unashamedly and authentically me, dressing like your favourite manic-pixie-dream girl meets English lecturer, talking about books and feminism and music.
But that was all thrown up in the air.
First, COVID. Then career change. PCOS. Chronic pain. Endometriosis. Recovery. Miscarriage. Pregnancy. Hyperemesis. Motherhood. Post-partum. Post-partum depression. Some of these parts of my life are truly wonderful. Others? Not so much… Regardless of what I was doing in the world, those singular moments became my defining feature. The woman with Endo. The woman who is sick. The woman with post-partum depression.
One of those single moments (one of the more wonderful ones) is being a mother. My daughter is five months old so I am out of the fourth trimester and those blurry post-partum days. In all honesty, being her mother is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. At the same time, I can really feel myself going through a matrescence. My mind, my psychology, my body are in a tumultuous spin of hormones and alterations.
I find myself drifting away from the anchors I have that make up my mind, body, and soul. As I learn to be a mother, I notice that I am neglecting my inner self and her needs. My authentic self has been packed away in bubble wrap and put in the attic whilst I naturally go hard on the motherhood overdrive, thinking of her, her, her.
I don’t want my daughter to see me as a singular being; I’m not just her mother. I want her to see me as a woman of many pieces, like a jigsaw in a box, all adding up to make the shape of me. Like the women in my family before me; complex, creative, joyful, full of multitudes.
So as the frost dissipates completely and the flowers secure themselves as staples, I’m going to work on letting my authenticity break through. Let’s explore who I am now – a new woman, made up of everything that happened before and everything that will happen after. Let’s live authentically for her, for me, and for my daughter. Afterall, what’s the best that can happen?
Love,
Rosie x
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