(I might also add its with a pinch of relief as well…)
Last week a long held dream of mine FINALLY came to fruition. I saw my very own lovingly crafted words in print. In a glossy magazine no less!
Back in August last year, at the exact time that Gisele “I-might-be-beautiful-but-not-very-tactful” Bundchen opened her big bloody mouth to fire poison arrows at the non-breastfeeding fraternity, I vowed I would be silent no more. Sure, I blogged about it, but it didn’t seem enough. It lit a blazing fire of indignation within me that I felt could only be quelled if I shared my own personal story in a parenting magazine; to state the case of those of us she seemed to think should be imprisoned for not adhering her narrow minded principles. Impulsively, I fired off a round of emails to various Editors, begging to have my say on this controversial subject.
And one blessedly said YES!
The upmarket LittleONE Baby parenting bible were, thankfully, happy for me to contribute my own heartfelt tale of breastfeeding trouble. It was no easy feat to be so open about my struggle, and part of you feels like it exposes you as a target for more condemnation. But at the crux of it is the fact it is MY story, and by sharing it I may have also helped someone else in a similar situation to feel much less guilty, and much more empowered to make the correct decision for their sanity, and their baby’s health.
A new chapter has begun in my world, as a result of this media milestone. I want carry with me always this sense of pride, of passion of finally seeing my name, my story, not only imprinted within the pages of this beautiful parenting magazine, but now also forever embossed in my mind. Of the wonderful, heart-warming and overwhelmingly supportive reaction of my family and friends… Of finally feeling like I have done something worthwhile, for bolstering my courage to continue down this much longed for path.
Fear has been killing me softly for far too many years. The confidence to put my self at the mercy of the publishing Gods has too long held me back. But with one story successfully in black and white for the world to see, I feel the self-imposed shackles of diminished faith in myself lessening. Onward and upward, with vigour and determination I must go, to tackle the next project of seeing again my name in print. It is, after all, as the great Laurie Oakes recently prophesised, much like a drug, this journalism caper. Now if you will excuse me, I’ll be off trying to line up my next fix…