I am the one thing in life I can control

Pictures of Emma Charlesworth taken during a photoshoot

So. The control freak is writing about control again. But this time it’s with a different perspective. Because she’s starting to realise that she can’t control and plan for everything. That she needs to just live life in the moment and stop the planning for all eventualities. Although, please don’t worry dear reader, I was still sat down writing a holiday itinerary the other evening!

I also want to mention that for the last two years we’ve seen Hamilton shortly before the anniversary of my late husband’s death and the blogs I’ve written for those anniversaries have been inspired by songs from it. But we were fortunate to win TodayTix lottery tickets so saw it in December last year too. The song “Wait for it” is the inspiration for this blog and title. It’s been going round in my head since we saw it then. Because it’s true. I am the one thing in life I can control. And on days like today I think about this even more.

You see, today is a particularly poignant day for me. It marks two years since I was told I was heading for a nervous breakdown if I didn’t stop. It marks one year since I took my daughter to the doctor because of her anxiety. February is also full of reminders and flashbacks to this time four years ago. What was to become our final full normal month as a family of three. I don’t believe things like this will ever leave me.

I last wrote about being in control in April 2022. Two months after the nervous breakdown comment was made. Two months after I was signed off work and was approaching the day I would return. At a time when I was trying to regain the control that I’d lost on 16 March 2020 when we were suddenly all told to work from home and my world felt like it had been flipped on its head. I felt like I was starting to take back control “one tip run at a time.” I said at the time “But I know that life will always throw challenges my way. I just need to make sure my mind is as strong as it can be to cope with them.” This last week has shown me that on that point, I’m making great inroads.

Just over a week ago, I received some disappointing news. Something that had been hanging over my head for just under two months hadn’t worked out the way I’d wanted it to. It hurt. It was triggering. Because it brought to the fore the feeling that I try to bury a lot of the time. That I am on my own. That I am the sole person responsible for mine and my daughter’s financial security and future. Almost as soon as I’d had the news I dropped my daughter off to go to the theatre for her birthday and then I came home to an empty house. The silence was deafening. The lack of anyone to put the kettle on for me. The lack of anyone to put their arms around me and reassure me that everything was going to be ok. I broke down on a phone call. It all felt too much for me. I took the dog for a walk to get out of the house. I just needed air and to breathe. To take stock a little bit.

But then I was reminded that while I am on my own, I’m not alone. Supportive messages started. Offers to come and keep me company came in. The amazing people that I’m so fortunate to have around me were there for me once again. I know just how lucky I am to have them. And I don’t take any of them for granted. I allowed myself the opportunity to wallow for a little bit, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, but then I started to look for the positives. I put myself in control. Truth be told it actually scared me a little bit how quickly I was able to do this. Because it’s not who I am. It’s not what I do. I’ve never been that person that bounces back ridiculously quickly. I overthink. I try to plan ahead for problems that are years away. A prime example happened when my stepdad was making the Father of the Bride speech at the first wedding we’d been to since my late husband died. I ran out of the hall having a panic attack because I didn’t know who was going to give my daughter away. “She’s 11, I don’t think we really need to worry about it just yet” was my sister’s brutally honest response. Which, to be fair, I needed. She was right. My daughter might not get married, yet here I was trying to take control and plan for something that might never happen. Because it’s what I do.

Or rather. It’s what I did. I think I first noticed the change in me during that period in 2022. When I booked our “F**k It week” because life is too short and we were just going to do things because we could. I booked activities with a few days’ notice. I lived for the moment and for enjoyment. But, if I’m being honest, it probably just was for a week. I wasn’t really brave enough to go beyond this too much. I needed the stability and security of being the person I’d always been to keep me going. To help me get through life.

But that person is changing. I know she is. I feel it in a way I haven’t really felt before. When my world imploded, when I became a widow and solo parent at the age of 39, all I wanted to do was survive. I had nothing else. If we got through an hour, a day, a week or a month that was enough for me. I remember writing a Facebook post a month after my late husband died that said “This whole experience has irrevocably changed our lives. It’ll continue to do so. But I won’t let it define us or who we become.” Did I really believe we could do this when I wrote it? Or was I trying to take back some control? I’ll never know.

But in August last year, I knew I was taking control of my life again. I mentioned in my New Years Eve blog that I’d done a boudoir photoshoot with Style Photography. This for me was one of the most empowering things I’ve ever done. Because it made me see myself through different eyes. The one thing I told the photographer that I wanted to come through in the photos was the fact that I was taking control of my life again. Now. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t completely overthought in the run up to that day. I took way more outfits than I needed because I wasn’t sure what might work. I felt the most uncomfortable I’d ever felt for a lot of the session. But as I was having my hair and make up done, I remember saying “I’ve stopped dying my hair dark, because I’ve realised that getting grey hair is a sign of growing old and that’s a privilege.” Yet while I had this bravado approach, the second the photographer started it ebbed away. I felt I was being such a rubbish model! As much as I’d dictated the photos I wanted in a way to show me taking back control, I didn’t actually feel it or think I’d like them.

A few weeks later I went back to view them. One of me was on the big screen when I sat down. Yet. I didn’t realise it was me. I was in shock. As we went through all the photos, I repeatedly asked if they’d been photoshopped. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. And then we got to the one Mr C would have called the money shot. The one that completely and utterly showed me taking back control of my life. It was exactly what I wanted. It gave me probably the biggest confidence boost I’d had since becoming a widow. As I reflect on this now, I am so grateful for what it gave me. I won the shoot after I saw a competition and entered on a whim. There we go again. Not overthinking, just chancing something. It was beyond empowering. To think that you’re a really rubbish model. To think you’re not being any good at something and then to see the output. To know that that really is you. That at the age of 42 you’ve pushed yourself to do something so far out of your comfort zone. And you like the outcome. I’ve shown these photos to a number of people now. I am so, so proud of them. And while I won’t share some of the more risqué ones publicly because, quite frankly, my daughter will never speak to me again, the collage in this blog are all from that shoot.

And since that day I’ve probably been on a bit of a trajectory. When the world went a little bit mad and threw so much at me in 24 hours just before Christmas, I responded with levity (new favourite word). I didn’t overthink at the fact that things I had no control over were happening to me. I just responded to them in the best way I know how. Similarly, when I had a burst pipe at 10pm one Saturday evening in January, I didn’t cry. I just got on with it. It needed dealing with, so I dealt with it and moved on. No debate. No stress.

The recent news I received could have pushed me one of two ways. I know that. But I’ve controlled how I’ve responded to it. I’ve looked at it from a ridiculously pragmatic perspective (once I got past the tears!) I’m in control of what comes next. It’s made me realise that I need to make changes. That my mindset is changing. That I don’t need to plan for all eventualities, because, let’s face it, they may not happen anyway. What matters in life is how I play the hand that is dealt to me. How I respond to all the challenges that come my way. The example I set to my daughter on how to deal with adversity. They are the only things that I really need to be in control of. Life will happen to me whether I like it or not, and I have absolutely no control over it. My husband dying is a prime example of that. As the song says:

Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway
We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes

We’ve fallen and we’ve broken. My god have we done that. It makes me so emotional to think about this day two years ago. But it also makes me so, so proud. I was at the bottom of a very deep and dark pit. I was, essentially, at rock bottom with what felt like no way to get back up again. It’s not been pretty, I’ll admit, but I’ve clawed my way back from the despair. I’ve had no choice. Likewise, when I think about this day last year and my daughter, it makes me emotional. But so, so proud. She has also clawed her way back from despair. I couldn’t have ever imagined writing a blog like this on either of those days. We’ve had to go through what we’ve gone through to make us the people we are today. I hate that in a way. But it’s true. Yet now is our time to rise. Now is the time to look forward and think about what next. Change doesn’t scare me in the way it once did. Because we’ve been through the most unimaginable change and sadness in our lives, yet we don’t, and I refuse to let us, live a sad life. And if change is going to continue helping us, maybe it’s time to start embracing that and letting go of the control a bit more. Who knows where this trajectory will take me. I refuse to be defined by being a widow. I’m me. And I like the person I am. I’m proud of her. There is no-one like me. As the chorus says: