Baby news. It’s flooding into my inbox from all corners at the moment, and I’ll admit it’s making me wanting to grab a piece of wood and firmly champ down on it to supress my screams.

Yep, I find it really hard to admit this but a baby girl (I even have a named picked out), is part of my plan A, along with an adoring husband, a business that lets me curate the perfect work-life balance, and a four-bed house on a suburban street in a close-knit community with a high street just around the corner teeming with cute cafes and independent boutiques*.

This is my REAL plan A (the one I’ve let bubble to the surface as part of my healing journey) and one that I think has been drowned out by the: “I’m not good enough/worthy to have what other people have,” messaging that comes as a result of a potent cocktail of not fully getting my needs met/acknowledged as a highly sensitive child, generational trauma (parents who fled a civil war and had to establish themselves in a new country), and possibly taking on an identity that hasn’t fully been my own to keep from rocking the boat in several areas of my life.

And having let plan A take a foothold in my heart and consciousness in midlife comes with the inevitable challenges (if you know you know), and that hollow feeling that comes from realising you’re going to have to dream and do alone as faith from those around you is likely to be in sort supply (‘surely if you’d really, really wanted things you’d have them by now’…’you’ve coped so far, maybe taking up gardening would help/act as an alternative?!!’) .

I have a sneaking suspicion that this blog is going to come across as more of a rant than anything else but maybe this bumbled attempt at catharsis will leave anyone experiencing something similar feeling slightly less adrift.

Yep saying yes to plan A can weigh really, really heavy, particularly as you let the mask slip and reveal your true desires to yourself, the Universe, and anyone you trust with the innermost workings of your soul. For me it’s led to distancing myself from friends who I feel can’t invest in this journey I’m undertaking to slipping into bouts of choking anxiety and depression as I get glimpses of the box-ticked Miriam that is walking beside me in some parallel universe, and seemingly haunting me from a near-distant future.

Plan A is changing me, and while I feel it’s deeply necessary, it’s not all pleasant. So how am I coping in the meantime? I’ve made a firm commitment to not give up on the aforementioned vision*, but I am working on trying to bring forth some mini plan A moments (a day job that still gives me plenty of breathing space), connecting more deeply with some new friends who aren’t too jaded by the me of the past to get a smidge excited by the me of the future, and just stepping into the me I see using everything from subliminals (thank you Manifestation Collective) to self-invoked mantras (usually something along the lines of: you know who you are, while getting in some cardio on the treadmill) as well as experimenting with belief-shifting modalities such as the Emotion Code and Body Code. This is on top of just being more honest about who I am and not shying away from talking about what I feel is meant for me.

I’ll also no doubt continue to grapple with plenty of plan B and C moments from attending a so-so arts/culture event alone to fill time and give some colour to my daily existence, to going through the motions of conversations that I’m kind of zoomed out on.

It’s all part of what can be an uncomfortable process. While I can’t say I’m any closer to my plan A goals I know, in a way that can’t be described, that I’m on the ‘right’ path. And I’m going to continue putting one step in front of the other until I ‘arrive’ in a way that feels true to me. There’s no turning back, even though fear threatens to tug at my boots and keep me rooted in place.