A week ago I walked across the stage, officially graduating from the University of Portsmouth.

The past week has been filled with lots of nostalgia, a bittersweet feeling of goodbye, and a lot of gratitude. I thought that I would write and reminisce about my time at university, detailing different memories; but honestly, that’s more for my private journal than here. Instead, I want to share the best 5 things that came out of my university career.

Number 1

I got educated. I don’t mean academically, though of course that happened too; I mean I got an education that wasn’t possible living at home, in my small hometown.

I learned how to live alone, how to shop for myself, how to pay bills and how to figure out what my next meal was gonna be.

I got educated through my friends, learned about different backgrounds, and explored the labels I had given myself and other people. I have bettered myself through this education, becoming more open-minded and progressive in my thinking and lifestyle.

Number 2

I made friends. This sounds like a cliché but having had close friendships end very sadly before university, I wasn’t sure I’d actually manage to fit in. Now I have come to accept that I will never fit it, but that I can still have the most amazing friends.

I have had some rough patches and been close to people and then drifted, but I know that there are a few really great friends, who I can count on, call and who I hope to stay in contact with for many years to come.

Number 3

My Family. This is a long one, because there are a few parts, and it’s the most personal.

I) I got married. Admittedly, this isn’t a goal or reality for most university students in their early 20s but it has been my reality and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Working on my relationship with my partner has been one of the biggest challenges because being away with our son, while he worked to support us, meant that we have almost never been on the same page at the same time. I am grateful that he encourages my madness and ambition, and I look forward to actually spending time as a family soon.

II) I had a baby (I know this isn’t most people’s goal either!).

My son has taught me more than I can write here. I have learned about motherhood, about myself, about food, and babies and toddlers. I have learned that more often that not, my instinct is right. I have functioned sleep deprived and I have celebrated every small milestone he has had. I was told once that these things matter more to mums than dads but eventually they don’t matter; but I know that they do matter.

III) I began to appreciate my family (blood-family) very differently.

My relationship with my parents has evolved drastically since I left to university. I left, sad but excited to be moving away, but over the years, even before my baby arrived, I saw home in a very different light. I know that I have some of my biggest supporters in my parents and brother. My mum and I have an exceptionally close relationship, and I am incredibly close to my dad. My little brother and I don’t always see eye to eye but I cherish him dearly and I know that our relationship will grow once he leaves for university too. I see how hard it is to run a house now, and the dedication I somehow previously took for granted, and I have begun to understand what I want to make my own home like with my husband and our baby now.

Number 4

I learned my voice matters. This is a big one for me. While I have always been a vocal person within groups I know, being at university taught me that as long as I can back up my opinion, I cannot be wrong.

I am not always right, far from it, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I have learned, and am still learning that there is literally always going to be someone who disagrees with me, but it’s not my job to please everyone.

Being at university has given me the confidence to stand up and be vocal about what I believe. And to, where reasonable, call people out on their bullshit too.

Number 5

Lastly, university has taught me to believe in myself. Another cliché I know, but it’s true! I have overcome obstacles that I never imagined facing, and I have learned that hard work really does have incredible results.

I took part in a lot of stuff at university, I made friends, I broadened my views and I swallowed some bitter pills too. I have friends who have faced incredible trauma and adversity through their university career’s, and I have others who have seemingly had life handed to them. Each journey has been different, but none less important than another. My journey let me to graduate with a 1st Class Honours in Politics and International Relations, alongside being awarded (jointly) a prize for “Student of the Year” within my faculty.

I proudly celebrated with the most important people in my life, and I had an amazing day. I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity’s I have had, and I know that there are many more experiences to learn from, both within academia and outside of it. Every single person I have met and interacted with has helped shape my future to be what it is today, and I am so thankful for that.

Thank you for the support. Thank you for the inspiration. Thank you for the opportunity.

xoxo

R

Back in Gibraltar now and the days have been super busy, which is why this blog post is a week late. Sorry! Alas, time in the sun and catching up with family and friends has taken priority over sitting at my laptop and writing… at least temporarily. Plus I’ve been studying.

I had a few things I wanted to write about, and thinking about them alongside plotting my plans and priorities for this summer; I realised that I have lots of ideas and an image of myself in my head that I have swayed from. And so, I have decided that I am revamping my blog! It’s a little like getting a new style haircut or deciding that even though you like the style, it’s a little unruly and so reshaping is required.

***

Over 2 years ago my mum introduced me to Elephant Journal on Facebook and through their newsletters, often emailing me interesting articles on yoga and diet. In August 2016, encouraged by mum, I decided that though I wasn’t writing anything other than my personal diary, I would sign up to EJs social media and journalism apprenticeship. I started early September, before going back to university and I loved it! It was very time-consuming and the balancing act that I had to play between my apprenticeship, and everything else I was doing did prove difficult, but it taught me a lot. During that first term, I started a Yoga Society at my university and taught Hatha twice a week, I joined the Southampton University Royal Navy Unit (SURNU), was treasurer of the photography society and on top it all, I fell pregnant and planned my wedding. It was a very busy term!

Through my apprenticeship we were encouraged to write, to journal, to submit articles if we wanted and generally to explore the world of creativity and ethical journalism. We had to submit a final thesis in order to qualify our skills, and I did so, writing an open letter to my baby. I completed the apprenticeship at the end of December 2016, and for a few months focused on my pregnancy, uni, yoga, and SURNU; my husband moved away with work so we couldn’t really focus on our marriage at the time.

In March 2017, I don’t really remember what inspired me to do so, but I opened a Blogger account and began writing whenever I felt inclined to do so, almost always about my pregnancy. Earlier this year, I switched all those old posts over to this blog, and started using WordPress instead, still writing when I could, about my baby and about my life.

The intention in the beginning was that my blog was a safe place to share, a place where I could be anonymous and express myself. It was almost meant to be an online diary, but I’ve found a physical copy works much better for me. The blog didn’t stay like that for long; I realised that actually it was a good way to reach out and tell my story.

I am under no illusions here, I don’t think I’m special and I definitely didn’t think anyone would care what I wrote, but I figured that if anyone was interested, they could keep up – mostly I thought this would be family.

***

Hand in hand with my blog, comes my Instagram account. At first, I used my Instagram account on a regular basis, posting about my yoga sessions and some bits of my pregnancy… but before I gave birth, I decided that I wanted to change my Instagram account and so created a new one, giving a short background to my relationship and pregnancy, and then spamming baby photos when Theo Prana arrived! Unfortunately, I couldn’t transfer all my old account posts and so they have been discarded. Instagram became a little bit like a blog for me, it was more accessible and a lot easier to use because writing a few paragraphs or a sentence made posting regularly easy. That said, I wrote in detail about my birth story and postpartum experience on my blog, I wanted to write everything down before I forgot it all and while a little bit of a challenge, writing was easier initially because Theo Prana would sleep or be settled (I miss those days!) and my parents would take him while we were in Gibraltar.

Once back at uni, things became more difficult and I de-prioritised writing. I stopped writing the letters to Theo as I had when I was pregnant, I stopped writing my diary… I focused on getting from one day to the next. Instagram became my chosen outlet, and it allowed me to share, express and learn from my phone, which meant I never had to allocate a block of time, but rather could use it as and when time was available. My intentions for the blog, as I said before, were initially to remain anonymous, but that quickly dissolved. If I wrote, whenever I did, I would share my writings on social media, and I’d look forward to nuggets of feedback.

My biggest rule for writing was not anonymity, but rather, regardless of whether it was on social media, on my blog, or in my personal life: there’s no room for bullshit. I don’t fake happy and I don’t hide difficulty. I try to always be real and honest, even if it isn’t pretty.

However.

I want to be real, I tell the truth, but I do not like the idea of using social media to complain. I do not like the idea that rather than looking for lessons, the perception of my blog and writing is that it is used to vent.

I don’t apologise for this, because if I’ve done it, I’ve obviously needed to, but the intention of my writings was not as a space to vent… at least not often. I look back to the last few months of writing, both published and unpublished and I have used this space as a safe space to come to and just let go. Rather than a diary, I have typed furiously, I have typed sadly, I have typed excitedly and I have typed lovingly… and I have had a lot of support as well as criticism for it.

Over a year after beginning to write, after a year of incredible joys and intense hardship, I can trace back my growth and understand why I have had the experiences I have, and I am grateful that I wrote about them. My intentions were never to write about flowery experiences, about happiness without hardship or make light of reality. It’s not who I am and while I understand there is a line between public and private, I know I do not cross it. I started to write to share my pregnancy and motherhood, I have never hidden the surprise Theo Prana was, but neither have I wished for a different life. I have wondered what my life would be, had things been different, but wholeheartedly, I know that where we are, where I am, is exactly right.

Going forward, I want to take my blog back those original intentions, though they have pervaded all my writings in some way. I want to take the idea of sharing motherhood, (and things that aren’t related to motherhood too), and use it to tell our story, and hopefully learn from others, hear from others and if we’re lucky, inspire others.

I never thought I would have many people read my blog, and I don’t have a worldwide reach, but I do have a little one, and the feedback I have got from absolute strangers is such a beautiful thing. Reaching out to people when they have moved you is amazing and I encourage everyone to do it; I try to whenever I can, and when you get a message of support/encouragement, it makes a difference. I write for me, but if I can help someone else, if I can show them that being in the trenches isn’t permanent, then I’m going to do it.

Anyway,

I’ll sign off now, from my rant/explanation.

I’ve restyled the blog a little so let me know if you like it or if the old style was better!

Love you all

xoxo

R

It’s been a long week! My Friday night blogging session has become something to look forward to, though I had nothing planned to write today. I feel that this is going to become a source of catharsis, almost in the same way that Rachel Braathen’s “From the Heart” podcasts are for her; very likely inspired by them too to be honest. I am still months and months behind in listening, but somehow, they seem to fit exactly where I need them in my life right now.

I am sat with Theo Prana on my lap. He was beside me but woke up and has ended up here, and as I type I am wondering if he’ll wake up. This week, as much as I love my son, I have been desperately craving a break; from nights, and from clinging, a break to just practice yoga, read my book and breath. I don’t need days or weeks, but after sleepless nights, even a morning meditation is incredibly difficult, let alone any asana practice.

When I can, I take pause and breath; I practice my 3-part breath, and I practice inhaling prana up into my head and exhaling it around my body (something we learned on the neuroscience and yoga course I did in April). Just this little attention makes a significant difference, but the impact on my day is a lot stronger when I get to have some time on the mat too.

As we’ve settled in here, I have met more people and tried to make some friends – a real struggle for me as an introvert. Almost everyone I have interacted with is a military spouse, and so there is an element of relation there, but I do still feel out of my depth. That said, as the weeks have passed, I have become more comfortable and I’ve mentioned the fact that I am a yoga teacher which has had some positive responses. I want to teach, but I also know that to teach authentically, my personal practice is super important. Not just Asana (posture) but my practice in my everyday life. We learn the Yamas and Niyama’s in Satsang, though not always by those names, and in Teacher Training we study them… but until you try to implement them into real life, it’s hard to understand them. It’s even harder when you have a tiny human attached to you and dependant.

Being a mum and practising yoga though… it’s entirely different. This article by Emily Azad transformed my thinking. I have a long way to go, but the ideas in her writing and the honesty of motherhood and yoga off the mat make such a lot of sense to me; I just need to practice them, every day. I hope that at some point, I can, as she does, go through each one and consider its personal relevance to me; and maybe then I’ll manage to write about it too.

This week has been particularly trying for me on this front because I am running with a baby who has woken almost every hour for the last 4 or 5 (I honestly can’t remember anymore) nights. I have not felt like being selfless, and I have complained at the lack of sleep, and the fact he won’t do a bed routine. I have complained at my mental boredom, and I have felt selfish, wanting time to myself. This of course also brings on the mum guilt, but I’m not going to write about that tonight. Today, I ended up snapping, and because I did so while baby was awake and around, and in my arms, I have judged myself harshly for it. I got angry with my husband, shouted… he didn’t say anything, so I turned around and left him to set up his game, and I put some music on, danced around and let Theo Prana play at my ankles. It took 3 and a half songs for me to compose myself and apologise to my baby… I have yet to do this with my husband but he’s busy, so I’ve left him alone.

I managed to get Theo Prana to sleep around 90 minutes after this, hyping myself up and making light of everything, to combat any negativity that I would otherwise omit. He’s a little bit of a jumping jelly bean so he had a great time and was tired enough not to fight sleep too much… anything before 9pm is a win for me! As I changed him, and fed him and sang to him, I did my pranayama practice. I watched my breath, and I consciously directed it upwards and then around my body. I kept going, every possible pause, every opportunity to bring my focus back I did. It helped… It made sure that rather than focusing on my anger and my outburst, I was focusing on my breathing and my baby. And it allowed me to put him to sleep without a struggle.

Once he fell asleep though, I ran through things repeatedly, and have been my own worst enemy. I sat for a good while just getting angry with myself, and as I wrote my diary, getting angry with H again too. But, noting these emotions, I paused and this time, forced myself to stop. Breathe. Look at the perfect tiny human we created. BREATHE. Accept that we are flawed. BREATHE. Try to forgive.

It’s hard. It’s harder to be kind to myself than it is to others. I expect more, and I am a harsher critic, but I’m also a work in progress.

I am exhausted, yet I look down at my baby and know I am privileged. I am a Mum. Motherhood is not an easy job, but it is a rewarding one. It doesn’t come with a rulebook, but if I close my eyes, and listen to my core, it tells me that I’m pretty good at it. Motherhood is a privilege. My baby is healthy, he’s generally happy, he’s growing and he’s learning. We have a good little family unit here, and though the ride may not always be smooth, it’s alright if we take things easy. If we breathe things work out.

I’ll sign off here, get some food and go to bed.

Thank you for reading.

R xox

P.S. if you have any suggestions or requests for me to write about, let me know. Thanks!