What happened when I stopped giving a shit …

I’m not a potty mouth by nature, but sometimes there’s only one right word to describe something.

Me and my lovely Mum

My third attempt at writing my first substack post, let’s see if it makes it this time…

It’s not that I’ve been procrastinating about writing my first substack post, rather that the previous two attempted posts just don’t seem relevant any more. They were written before it all changed, before I changed, so I no longer recognise the person that was writing them to be me.

Hi, my name is Sam and I’m a recovering people pleaser, that is to say that’s who I was before I stopped giving a shit. Now I’m no longer recovering, I am healed and fresh and new. I’ve finally found my way out of my gooey, sticky yet comfortably familiar cocoon and am embracing the beautiful butterfly I have become.

In my old skin when I used to feel guilty for everything I said, did and didn’t do, my days would be filled with anguish, anxiety and low self esteem, all resulting in feelings of low mood, a black cloak often weighing heavily on my shoulders, too frightened to say no or ask why without fear of rejection or judgement. Caring so completely about what other people thought of me as a mother, friend, daughter, sibling, wife, therapist, person. It was exhausting and at 45, having felt this way on and off (but largely on) for most of my life, I was feeling increasingly weary from it.

Then my mum was diagnosed with mixed dementia and my world began to crumble further. Her lengthy diagnosis and worsening condition unlocked a part of me that had been dormant since early childhood. Memories came flooding back to me, some good, some less than, about my childhood, the family dynamic and how all of that was showing up now in her dementia behaviour and in our family. It was as though, as an adult, I’d suddenly gained the awareness and processing skills to recognise where most of my people pleasing patterns had originated, how long I’d been allowing those behaviours to rule my life and what impact there had been from them on all of my relationships from early adolescence through to adulthood. It was sudden and it was tough. I was training as an Aromatherapist when mum was first diagnosed so at least I had something to focus on. Then, after qualifying, I set up my practice and was consumed by everything that goes with building a business. It was a welcome distraction but with 2 tweenage children, two dogs and a household to run as well, it began to become unmanageable. The pressures of social media algorithms and showing up day after day took their toll and when mums condition worsened yet again I knew I needed help before things spiralled out of control. So I found a therapist and went for counselling.

Talking therapies have always been very beneficial to me throughout my life from counselling to CBT to Psychotherapy, I’ve always loved to learn about myself and how the mind works, but this time was different, this time we went deep into my childhood to see if we could gently uncover some of triggers that may have caused my people pleasing behaviours and ruled my life for so long. This takes a very trust based relationship with a therapist and I was fortunate enough to find one I could truly be myself with, or at least the version of myself I was at that time. As our sessions progressed alongside my mums illness and my families attempts to contain & manage the situation, and then, my therapy sessions began to take a more spiritual route.

I’d been 10 years as a Christian which suited my people pleasing tendencies and need to be punished for feeling like I was always falling short, incredibly well. There was a lot to unpick and untangle (probably best for another post) but with time, love and grace, my therapist used her many tools and healing modalities to help me find the self love, self compassion and inner joy that I’d been severely lacking most of my life.

One of those modalities was angelic reiki. It changed my life. I shit you not. Regular treatments of this phenomenal healing tool, alongside my talking therapies and learning how to set boundaries for myself that didn’t make me feel guilty but instead empowered me to breathe, listen and find that inner spark within me that had been suppressed, that connected me to a force more powerful than religion, more gentle than a mothers love, more fierce than any judgment that could be made of me or that I could make of myself saw my perspective shift at a rate of knots, which brought with it problems of its own, but I kept working through it, pushing on, learning, growing, giving myself grace on the bad days and celebrating how far I’d come on the better days. After years of what felt like a constant merry go round, I had found stability but my god it took work. It was painful and messy and uncomfortable and raw but now it’s joyful and peaceful and balanced. My mum is still poorly and worsening every day, I still face challenges and have days that go a bit wonky, but there is a knowing inside me that grows stronger every day, an intuitive voice that whispers ‘you don’t need to go back there, you’ve changed for good and all that lies ahead is joyous abundance. You are a wonderfully and beautifully made child of the universe and the universe has big plans for you’.

So, I stopped giving a shit about the stuff that doesn’t matter and started giving a giant fuck about what does.

I’d love to hear if you’ve done the same or if you want to but don’t know how. I’ll be using this space to share some of the tools that have helped me become the best version of me so far, after all we are always evolving. My sincerest hope is that you will find something helpful within these posts, something that connects you to a part of yourself that was lost so it can be found again and given room to grow.

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