Day 3: Stronger than yesterday.

Today has had me thinking a lot about strength and what that word means.

The oxford definition of the word is; “the quality of being brave and determined in a difficult situation”.

All together a rather reasonable and sensible definition.

When someone commends you with the strength you are showing I always reflect and think “Do I have a choice?”. When we demonstrate bravery we are rarely put into situations that are comfortable to deal with or that we even have a choice of the matter. I guess it stems from our ancestral instincts of flight or fight. In prehistoric times It was eat or be eaten. So have those qualities stayed intrinsically in our very DNA, or are they learned? Ok so this examination of strength is not going to turn into a doctoral thesis on behavioural psychology. I will leave that to someone far more educated and qualified than myself.

I believe we find strength from the support of the people around us. Our parents, our friends, siblings, work colleagues. Everyday we rely on other people as we cannot navigate this vast blue globe all on our own. Apologies in advance if you are a flat earth believer. You are wrong. Simple.

Mummy was a great source of strength in some very challenging times in my life. None more so than my very first year living in the wonderful City I am proud to call my home.

8 years ago I decided to pack up my little life in Ballymena and head off to the great beacon that was the metropolis of Manchester. Looking back it was a whirlwind experience. 30 days after I made the decision I was on a boat heading across the Irish Sea. The reason for the most uncivilised form of transport was due to an Icelandic ash cloud that had landed all flights, nature can be so inconsiderate.

I had arranged to stay in a flat share with 8 other people. Nowhere else would let me rent a room without first seeing it, and more likely me (which as a future landlord I can tell you is a very wise decision). This one place had agreed to take me on no questions asked, no visit required just a deposit. I was relieved and a little nervous. I had reached the apartment block around 8/9 in the evening. Exhausted from the long boat /train/bus journeys I wanted to get myself settled and into bed. I unpacked all my belongings into this rather spacious bedroom. I unpacked a blanket and a pillow lay on my bed. I then cried myself to sleep. Had I made a huge mistake?

The next morning I woke up feeling refreshed and a lot more positive. I knew I had taken a risk but I was going to see this through. I promptly got myself looking respectable and headed to the local Morrisons for essentials like duvets, pillow cases and of course a bottle of Pinto Grigio. All the elements a survivalist would tell you that would see you through a doomsday scenario.

After a short few days of setting up base camp I was starting my first shift in the Trafford Centre. To those who have never experienced the place, I would describe it like Caesars Palace in Vegas, On Steroids! Everywhere their are fountains, Columns, statues of Greek Gods. All  white and gold. The boy from Ballymena had never seen anything like it in his life, the fairhill shopping centre was looking pale in comparison.

I settled in really quickly. I met my new manager who I shared a lot in common with, met the team of lovely people, quickly got up to speed with my new routine. It must have been a novelty to have two Irish people starting with them. Yes two. Did  I forget to mention I moved over with a girl I knew from home? I wasn’t on my own, I had a familiar ally that in tough times we would support each other.

Or so I thought.

The first 3 months went by in a blur, nothing remarkable must of occurred as I really do not recall them. Me and ‘the girl’ had moved out of the dingy flat share into a house down the road with a lovely girl we both worked with. We had a lovely routine the three of us from going to work together to socialising on the weekends. Sure I got a little homesick from time to time but that was to be expected. Apart from my university life I had never lived away from home so this was a big step.

We also had another friend from work, lets call her Cathy. Myself, ‘the girl’ and Cathy were inseparable for the first 6 months. We worked together, socialised together. We were almost in a symbiotic relationship it felt. I would love to end the story here and say that we are all the best of friends 8 years later and it changed my life. The friendship did change my life but in the most unexpected way.

It starts with the little things. I have always prided myself in my ability to read people. I feel my empathic abilities are on point. 10’s across the board. I notice the little things. different glances, unusual body language. Sharp pointed deliveries. This started to take place more and more. The paranoia then kicks in and you start to question all of your own behaviours. I would ask my dear close personal friend ‘the girl’ had I done something to upset either her or Cathy. Always the same answer delivered in a very blunt fashion

“No”.

I started to become more and more isolated. The funny witty character was replaced with this sullen, moody figure I failed to recognise. Things started to look up though as I was about to buy my first apartment. I had been looking for about 3 months and was finally excited to find this beautiful two bedroom apartment in the wonderful village of Monton. These were exciting times, what isn’t exciting about buying your very first home? Contracts were exchanged and our lease was up. As it was a two bedroom I of course asked ‘the girl’ to come live with me, we had started this adventure together and even though something was amiss I still felt a common bond with her. I made the decision that all she would have to pay for was half the bills, no rent. Looking back I think I was trying to bribe a better friendship. Readers this never works. If someone is your friend, they are your friend. No amount of shiny things will ever change that.

The day finally came and I received the keys, I was beyond elated! ‘The girl’ was working late so she arrived into the new apartment at about 8. I was excited running around opening cupboards, exploring every nook and cranny, generally buzzing around with excitement. She walked in, looked at my coat hanger smile and said:

“I’m going to bed”

I sat on my unfurnished apartment, on the floor, looked around and felt a little sad. Why wasn’t she excited?

As the oxford dictionary stated about strength being the quality of bravery, this was exactly the front I was putting on to my Mummy. She was oblivious to any of this. I never wanted her to worry about her youngest child. I wanted her to be proud and feel I succeeded. The problem with false bravery is it is like a mask. Eventually the mask will fade. It did.

I walked out of work one summer afternoon, lifted my phone as I did every night. Me and Mummy would chat about the most random of things. It was the summer so I’m sure she was filling me in on her favourite passion, Big Brother. My mother was a closet voyeur, she absolutely loved watching people go about… doing nothing. Our cycle of big brother conversations however took a break this day. I lifted the phone, she answered, my lip trembled, my eyes filled up. I had the biggest cry I probably have ever had in my entire life. It felt like a balloon was filling up and up, then it burst.

We talked for hours that night. She told me that the best thing to do was cut those people from my life.

I did.

I found the strength that day through her. She gave me more strength than I ever felt I had. It was not the easiest months that followed but I am thankful to say she got me through them. I am now surrounded by some of the most amazing friends I have ever had in my life. They care, they love. They inspire me.

After a few wines me and my mother would often reminisce about ‘the girl’ and generally have a really good bitch. She always said to me that the strength I showed was meant to be, that my life turned out so much better because of it.

My life turned out so much better because of the strength you gave me. That is the true meaning of strength.

I will always think of you when I need to be Brave.