The last four years have been the toughest I have faced and I have been lucky to have some amazing people around me who have not passed judgement and have listened for hours as I pace my thoughts in a circular motion around my head. Some stayed the distance and some fell by the wayside, weary. Over my shoulder I can feel the scars where the knives were hanging out of my back, wounds from my former frenemies.
At the moment I am in the midst of the edit of my next book ‘Looking For Mr Rabbit’. It is my memoir, collage of the life of an ordinary 42 year old British woman – me. But truthfully, it’s a book about searching for love, trust and loyalty. As I read my toe curling writing, written over the years, and I face my younger self, I realise now that all of my mistakes have been made due to the quest to find love, loyalty and trust. ‘Looking For Mr Rabbit’ is a true story about love and growing up which I was forced to do, aged 2 years old, when my mother died. It’s a classic Disney film. I read an article recently that explained the rationale for parental bereavement in Disney films:
“In a revealing interview with Glamour, longtime Disney producer Don Hahn gave his two theories on why there are rarely any parents, or more specifically, mom characters in Disney films. One theory comes from a practical stand point, but the other theory stems from a truly tragic story from Walt Disney’s past.
“One reason is practical because the movies are 80 or 90 minutes long, and Disney films are about growing up. They’re about that day in your life when you have to accept responsibility. In shorthand, it’s much quicker to have characters grow up when you bump off their parents,” Don offers. “Bambi’s mother gets killed, so he has to grow up. Belle only has a father, but he gets lost, so she has to step into that position. It’s a story shorthand.”
‘Looking For Mr Rabbit’ is about growing up. I am very loving, loyal and trusting. Too much so. I am indeed a terrible judge of character and have made some grave errors in the past. I have walked open hearted into situations time and time again to be pooped on from an enormous height.
This week, I think I finally grew up. I decided to put the past behind me and make some significant changes to the way I present my life. I was making it too easy for the nay sayers to watch from afar so I have changed the settings on my Facebook account to private instead of public and I have shut down my second account. I have stopped pleading with the past to love me. It took Bambi 90 minutes to grow up and it’s taken me 42 years. I am not sure there is a happy ever after though.
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So if you know me personally and have been reading my blog just to keep up-to-date so you can judge me and you can no longer see me on Facebook then you have been blocked mother fucker. Yes, it’s time for me to come to terms with the fact that some of the people that I actually thought were my friends, or even my family, are actually arseholes and best kept out of my life. Once again the military has proven to me that it is corrupt and nepotistic. Yes, bold words; but even in 2014 it’s still an old boy’s club where ego rules and truth fails. Fortunately, I don’t work for the military so it’s not my problem. I’ll leave that down to Hagar. He’s big, bad and ugly enough to look after himself. Onwards and upwards.
The toxicity of the past has been coarsing through my veins for far too long and it’s time to move on and learn lessons. I have learned who is definitely not my friend, who is not on my side, who I can and can’t trust. But most importantly, I have learnt that being there and loving your children is all that matters and my family is my everything and I am blessed by their gorgeousness. Love is everything. Love is a splendored thing. All you need is love. Love lifts us up where we belong.
Clare Macnaughton; a modern military mother; a feminist, British military spouse, and lifestyle journalist, writing about real life adventures.
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