HappinessAt the moment I’m trying to fight a cold/virus, so I’m a little under the weather, my own personal storm, I guess.

This morning when I awoke from another sleepless night, I decided what I needed to do was to have a positive attitude to the day. Have a shower, clean clothes, do my hair nice even though it was going to be another day in front of the keyboard editing.

While under the shower a thought struck me. My life has been a series of ‘why’ questions. As a child I was forever bugging my mother with the question.

Why is Mark (my older brother) allowed to do this or that?  Why can’t I?

Mum would say things like because you’re a girl and he’s a boy. I would argued why was I born to be a girl, girls don’t get to do fun things.

My mother said she never had to worry about me because I could look after myself. I had two younger sisters who took up her time, maybe this was the root cause of my lack of interesting in following in her footsteps and becoming a mother of four children.

In time with the breakdown in my parents’ relationship more ‘why’ questions followed. Why didn’t Love mean forever. Why don’t thing remained the same. Why does time moves on.

My grandmother told me that I viewed the world through rose-tinted glasses.  As child I found this to be an odd statement as I didn’t wear glasses when I was young.  It wasn’t until I was older that I realised what the painful truth of the saying means. I still find it hard to believe that the world is a bad place, that people are evil and unkind.

This doesn’t mean I’m not aware that hurtful people exist as you see them on the news every night of the week. What I means is I don’t expect it from the people around me, or within my close circle of family and friends.

When I met my first husband, I never believed he would want to marry me. I thought he was a clever, shy man. He came from a good hard working background. His siblings, like himself had been well educated. I felt shy to be around them, but I got on well with his parents especially his mother.

After we brought a house together cracks in our relationships started to shows. The clever shy man I thought I knew and loved began to show another side to himself. The more I changed myself to become the woman he wanted, the less of who I was survived. My question of ‘Why’ haunted us.

Why marry me?

His answer was because it meant I got the house I wanted.

Why is it that I can’t see when thoughtfulness and a kind remark carries an arrow that will tear through my heart. That the power and belief in the goodness of others has left me being seen by them as weakness.

I hate seeing myself as a victim of fate’s cruelty.   And in fairness the last twenty years of my life in a new relationship has brought me the greatest of joy, though it has come with its own price tag as three key figures in my life have chosen to vacate it.

My last ‘why’ must therefore be… Why put a price tag on your own happiness?

Through my rose-tinted glasses I’ve always believed in the magic of happiness. To share in the joys of others whether it is a race won, a birth of a child, a freshly created garden, a work of art or just news of a new job. Whatever brings joy or happiness into the lives of others is worth sharing in when there is so much sadness in the world.  Learning to fly

Have a great weekend,

Remember to keep smiling because after the rain the sun does shine again,

Paula R. C.

1 Comment

  1. A reflective post. I suppose that we never do stop thinking why, although less often than the period we go though as a young child when it’s asked all too frequently.
    I hope that you feel better soon. Thanks, and you too. xx


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