the lion letters
I was once in Greece, we hired this little boat and found the most stunning turquoise sea with white sand beneath it, we found out later it was called ‘little Hawaii’. Other boats were there, folk jumping in, loving every dive, splash and ‘ahhhh’ feeling that was being echoed. Alistair was first in (he’s now my husband, the LOML, the man who is my worthy adversary which turns out is how I think relationships need to be) my then 7 year old daughter (Daisy) was right behind him and then there was me. I stood on the side of the boat, could feel the cool water on my skin yet I hadn’t jumped. And I didn’t jump for what felt like ages. Fear? Not sure if it was. I just know that this is what I did with things I knew that would feel good, I’d just not done them in a while/never done them/wasn’t sure how to do them/thought I may look like an idiot if did.
I did it with all sorts of things, I’d have a great idea, sit on it and before you know said idea, in a Big Magic kind of way, has flitted off to find someone who will actually breathe air into it. Just like me on that boat, with my favourite type of sea calling (more like screaming at me) to get in, I figured it was time to take the leap of faith.
I’ve been running my own business for 8 years. Before that I was Head of Communications for a £2 billion turnover hospitality business, I’d previously managed some of their biggest venues, I’d even won awards for breaking sales records. Because of my hard work, I was rewarded with education and career development (as well as cash). Despite being from a successful family (mum famous author, dad entrepreneur) my education came to a halt the day my mum died when I was 15. Being given such opportunity in my career felt extraordinary. Various certifications, business coaching qualifications, trips to USA to learn from the best and a masters degree later, I felt like the top of my game was getting exciting. I hadn’t reached it yet, but it was taking shape. But like all best laid plans, the universe had something else on the cards. Cancer.
The dark side of my life, that no-one ever saw was my marriage, money management and how I tried to keep it all away from my daughter. My marriage was dreadful for both of us. He was angry and I ran away, on a daily basis, from myself and definitely from him. I’d had IVF to have my daughter when I was 37, he sat in the passenger seat most of the time until he wanted to impose some sort of control. I’d plucked up enough courage to leave, just to be diagnosed with breast cancer three months later. It’s a long story, and one that actually doesn’t really need to be told anymore, but suffice to say, I stuck to my guns, did my 18 months of heavy duty treatment and surgery as a single mum, he temporarily got over himself and helped out (it was short lived) and we divorced a few years later.
Money was never an issue because I always earned a lot of it. Both my parents had died leaving nothing (which was cool as I never expected them to. They truly lived life to the full and both their lives were short, I’m glad they did). My problem was, spending it. It was my escape. In my ‘woe is me’ headspace, the need felt big and I didn’t know how to tame it. It resulted in my being in 6 figures of debt, as well as having a massive mortgage to get out of my marriage.
So why am I telling you this?
Because despite the drama in my life, a lot of women have felt/dealt/feared/shamed part of what I have too. I know, when I hid the truth I was abandoning the parts of myself that wanted love and to get it they had to go full rebellion. In my darkest days I held onto the smallest things, memories of my mum bringing back hand painted bangles from Florence, the yellow eyeshadow she admired (it was the 1980’s) and the fact she had an idea and brought it to life, again and again. When I felt on my knees, when I couldn’t find the light, when I stared death in the face, I knew the battle she lost was mine to win.
Florence became a thing. The art, the love, the romance, the poetry. And that’s how I found Danté and his lion. His lion became my lion, his she-wolf and leopard became the things I knew I had to overcome, the mirrors to my soul. I named my business Eléa which is latin for lioness. I started The Lion Club as a space for women to be equals to each other, to find the roar that’s patiently waiting to be heard. And now, we have the Lion Letters, my musings on all this strength and courage life has to offer.
And the boat? I didn’t jump. I dived. And then I floated like a starfish.
