The monkey bars in the park
The day I did the impossible
Growing up I had never believed that pushing myself would get me much further than what my natural capacity was, I couldn’t see myself beyond what was comfortable for me and because I was doing relatively okay, I didn’t bother. I was lazy.
Becoming a mother changed ALL of that for me. It was as if a part of my brain that had always been there, but dormant, had been switched on. I was a completely new person and felt completely motivated to push myself beyond my own capabilities and saw a future for myself that I had never been able to envision prior to motherhood. In a way, my calling came to me at a time in my life when I couldn’t have been any further from having capacity to do anything about it, and yet, I did.
I was on a rampage, I spent years studying to become a qualified counsellor, engaged in so many community projects I lost count and landed myself a role in a mental health charity that allowed me to do important work that I was only able to admire and envy others for doing in the past.
Having my daughter changed me in a way that I didn’t feel was possible for me, the love I found in her was one I had always yearned to know. Until this year I would have been able to say that I could achieve anything I put my mind to and believe in that statement, yet, I was still holding back from the things I wanted to pursue that felt beyond my remit.
Every few days I would go to the park and encourage my daughter to attempt the monkey bars, I was determined to get her to overcome her own barriers and smash through this difficulty convinced that if she could do this, she would feel like she could do anything. I think I was a little obsessed, but this summer, she finally did it. And when she did, I was as proud as any other parent would be but something felt strangely odd. I felt like a hypocrite, it wasn’t enough that she had done it because I was talking to myself the whole time. I needed to complete the monkey bars. Yet, I couldn’t even hang off a bar. I would try to hold on and couldn’t manage it, I yearned to be able to feel that feeling and perhaps it was my inner child but I felt so disappointed not being able to do this thing that looked like freedom to me.
I was so terrified of not being able to accomplish this task that I didn’t try for so long, I realised I was blocking myself from achieving because of fear of failure. But in doing so I was failing anyway. But this summer I took the plunge, I started hanging off a bar in the house for minutes at a time and slowly tried to pull myself up. After a few weeks we went to the park and my daughter told me to join her on the bars. I grabbed hold and tried to see if I could hold on for longer than a second - I did it! I went back again and this time focused all my energy on switching my hand over to the next bar, just one hand, not the whole thing - it worked! Then it was time to finally see if all of this work had amounted to anything and I grabbed hold as tight as I could, moved my hand quickly to the next bar and then the back hand too, after I had done one I just kept going with the motions, I started screaming as I got mid way in glee and then as I got to the end was in disbelief that I had done it! I did it, as a grown adult, I can finally do the monkey bars and now I can play in the park with my daughter and it feels completely full circle.
The monkey bars may seem like nothing to those passing by, but to me they are a signal of complete trust in my own abilities to be able to move mountains if I want to and even though i’m thirty five years old, I am so proud I finally get it.