When life gives you lemons

Life did a 180 on me back in August 2014, when RA got it's nasty little hands on me. I was pretty much just floating through life, relying on my husband to be responsible whilst I dealt with my unending dilemma of trying to be a Pinterest mum. You know the sort! Crafty, washed hair, nice house and a pretty Instagram feed. Of course, I was kidding myself and everyone around me. The domestic goddess within' never really was and there was no time for anything else when I was busy doing nothing, avoiding people and wishing I was better. Wishing I was doing something with my time instead of slacking. And then I'd feel guilty for the slacking when my husband arrived home after a day of hard work. We were pretty miserable to be honest. He worked too much, I didn't know what to do with my time and money was forever an issue.

My income back then was in spits and spats depending on when I could be bothered to use my 'precious' time working or not. I was a photographer. But really, what I was doing was anything but something! So many wasted days spent watching movies in blankets, dreading 3pm because I knew it was time to go and face a playground full of reminders of what I wasn't really so good at. Being a great housewife slash mum. I was just mediocre. Mediocre housewife. Mediocre mum.

Maybe I was unorganised? Or maybe just plain lazy? Regardless, when the RA started to take away the use of my hands and my ability to walk any real distance, suddenly, I regretted all of my days of doing nothing. I'd wasted my twenties!

Many RA sufferers mourn their former selves. They miss the energetic lifestyles they led before this disease. And of course, I miss having the use of my body. There have been many pity parties along the way. But RA has given me something else along with the awful pain and disfigurement. It's given me perspective, discipline and courage. It's given me the ability to focus on the things I can do (which isn't a lot but what I can do is pretty awesome). It's helped me shape my identity and become not the Pinterest mum I wanted to be so badly, but the person I am deep down. A designer. A creative. Somebody who can happily spend hours at the computer designing beautiful branding and websites for awesome people and not only am I completely dedicated to my work, I'm also contributing. And contributing well. 

Now, somehow, I am finally living. Finding my place (at last) in this world, it's boosted my confidence, improved my relationship with my husband and even my kids. Now I can treat us to a family holiday, days out and treats. The depression is fading away and I feel good about myself. I might not be able to do 90% of the things I could do before, but the 10% I have left, I won't waste. I am humbled by my talent and ability to still feel I am achieving my dreams despite suffering such a horrendous disease.

SHITTY HANDS VS. LONG HAIR

In the days before my Rheumatoid Arthritis diagnosis, I was pretty pash about having super long hair. I ruined it up to no end with extensions and refused to cut it for YEARS! Imagine the split ends, right? It didn't matter though cause I knew with some TLC I had the sort of hair you're only ever jealous of! Bit of back-combing and a few waves put in with some GHDs and voila! Hair perfection. My hair was my thing! But RA has this special little party trick where even on good days you have complete weakness in your hands. That means brushing your hair with said hands is a total ball ache. So you stop brushing it and it gets all matted like a disgusting nest at the back of your head. You look like Hagrad from Harry Potter and trust me, it's not a good look. So, after weeks of gentle persuasion from my mother, I gave in and decided to have it cut off.

Now, you may think it's still long enough, but to a lover of the big kind of hair I may as well be a bauldie! It's short as shit at the back and longer at the front but you know what, whilst I thought at first that it was 1-0 to the RA, actually, I LOVE THE NEW STYLE!!!

With a new style comes a new me (ha! and + a new blog!) and I'm no longer of the 'I can't' attitude anymore. The days of misery and laying in PJs (feeling sorry for myself) are over. I say a big fuck you to the RA!