Finding myself, again

​Last week, I had a day - the first day in a really long time - where I felt like Soph again.

I arranged to meet a dear friend who I haven't seen in person for almost 2 years. We first met in Morocco through a mutual friend during my first few months as a new mother. Almost 2 years later, life has changed so much for both of us - we have both moved back to the UK with our little ones, and awaiting our partners to join us. We chat regularly, sending messages and voice notes to provide mini updates on whatever is happening in our lives. I am so grateful for our friendship and to have someone who understands what its like to be solo parenting and without the invaluable support of their partner by their side. 

We finally arranged to meet just two weeks before. After a tough start to the year, it was something that got me excited for the first time in a while - something to look forward to, a saving Grace amongst life's storms.

As excited as I was about seeing my friend, having a mini-adventure on the train, lunch in a gorgeous cafe and a much-needed catch-up, I was also navigating the anxiety that comes with doing something like this for the first time as a mother.

I dropped my daughter off at nursery - extra early so I could catch my train - and as I drove away and towards the train station I could feel this knot in my stomach. It was subtle but enough to notice and cause some discomfort.

I decided to be curious and internally asked myself:

'Why am I so anxious today? What's wrong?'

The answer that came:

'You're doing something today that you haven't done in a really long time, and you're doing it for the first time as a mother. It's OK to feel like this. 

I gave myself the space to be curious and my body answered that what I was feeling was valid - I was having a human reaction to doing something for the very first time. 

I sat on the train and settled in for the 2 hour journey - I had my book, notebook, snacks, things to occupy my mind if needed. I sat and listened to a podcast and enjoyed just gazing out the window. 

As I sat on the train, thoughts crept in about all the things that could go wrong. 'What if something bad happens and I'm not there?'
'What if my daughter needs me?'
'What if something happens, and I can't get back to fix it?'

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that life is always unpredictable, but in this moment, everything was OK. There was no evidence to tell me that something would go wrong, apart from my thoughts telling me that it would.

As the train got closer to where I was heading, I found myself dropping more into the moment. The thoughts and worried feeling gradually melted away and I found myself feeling like a more familiar version of myself - the me that was always on a train, bus, plane going somewhere, making things happen.

Care-free. But most of all, present.

​Simply enjoying the moment that I found myself in.