“Women don’t have to be defined by others. We have the power to define ourselves: by telling our own stories, in our own words, with our own voices.” – Sarah Kay, poet
Mr Stork: When could you be here?
Hayley: A few hours
Mr Stork: Why not? Let’s do it!
Hayley: Ok I’ll need to see your hard copy ID mister I can arrive at 5 pm. Booking hotel now…prob Mantra hotel. Does that work for you?
Some of us grew up dreaming about the house with the white picket fence, the two kids, the gorgeous partner standing by one’s side. You know the one—that scene that is on a loop in your mind—the one that’s not real. Well, for many of us it’s not. I never dreamed of the white picket fence, but when I worked with a life coach back in 2005 this is what I visualised:
In five year’s time, I will be: Watching my husband holding our 8-month-old baby in the hammock at our stunning modern boho home that overlooks the ocean as the sun sets. It was a warm, balmy afternoon and I pinched myself so I knew what I was seeing was real.
Boom! The wake-up thump. Twelve years later and none of that had happened thus far.
It’s what then happened over the following couple of years that got me tapping away on my keyboard to put this book together. Did I ever see myself struggling to find someone to make a baby with? An emphatic NO. Did I ever see myself here? No. Well, maybe not exactly like this. Actually, if I am completely honest with myself, deep down I was probably destined to roll solo as a mother at some point. It’s in my DNA.
Still, I had absolutely no idea it would turn out quite as it has.