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164: Freedom

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It is sort of shocking to hear I've stepped foot in a gym. And I totally get it. I was never into sport at school, I'd actively avoid it, hide in the out-buildings even, and when one teacher insisted I join the netball team, I went to her on lunch break and told her outright in no certain terms, she was crazy. (I got scolded for this but y'know, seriously, I couldn't be arsed with sport.)

But now...

One thing I've come to realise recently with the anniversary of my surgery is how differently I feel about my body. 

I felt it magnificently failed me last year, it magnificently let me down.

It wasn't strong, it was weak.

I wasn't strong, I was weak.

The two things become mutually exclusive.

My body didn't feel like my own: I felt I had lost all control - and ownership. 

In the months that preceded my surgery, I didn't try and do genuine things to make myself feel body and mind stronger, rather I did things that were maybe a quick fix to make me feel better. 

What I hadn't realised until recently was what a confidence knock that whole year was to me. I think I can appear pretty strong in character, pretty confident, but you should know, underneath, not always the case. And what happened with my lung, losing a part of me quite literally, made me feel like I wasn't capable anymore, I wasn't the same person, and when twinned with the ever on-going confusions of what it is to be a mother and your loss of identity there (let's not get into that) I was a bit of a ball of confusion - but chose to ignore it. 

When I made my new years resolution to actively do something about how to "deal", I realised it wouldn't be easy, and in fact would probably prove to be downright difficult. And it has. 

Concurrently these last two weeks, whilst realising this shit, I was without my phone, and I realised the things - and people - I missed. And it happened at a time when I was feeling especially vulnerable. I also realised I missed real life interactions, and I missed just talking on the phone to my friends, let alone actually seeing them. Twinned with a sense of my body being a bit "meh" all round, I had to do something. 

An old friend from school came round for a cuppa - we see one another maybe twice a year but when together, it's like we only saw one another last week. It's a friendship I treasure for that simple reason. My friend and I are cut very much from the same cloth. And she's been "training". And she looks and feels incredible. That was on Monday. Today is Thursday and I had my first gym session. I quite literally feel in her debt, right now. 

I want to take ownership back of my body. I have a tendency to feel weak and actually, I really don't think it's justified. My body may have failed me last year, but I now have 99% lung capacity, and so god damn it, I'm going to use it. I want to look, be - and feel - strong. 

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So, I am going to blog about it, Instagram Story about it, so I am accountable for my efforts, and to watch my own progress. It will probably be bloody hilarious too because let's be honest, I'm not a natural when it comes to these things and everyone loves a clumsy gym bunny. 

Be good and bake well,

Lady Bakewell-Park