I left the house for the first time in a long time today. ⠀
As we pulled up outside one of our favourite coffee spots, I briefly considered not going inside. ⠀⠀
The thought of getting out of the car and interacting with people who are a) not my husband and b) not my child filled me with a kind of dread. ⠀⠀
A dread that implied I had forgotten how to interact. That I had forgotten how to say ‘hello, can I have two filter coffees, please.’⠀⠀
In the end, the need for caffeine won out, and I got out of the car.⠀⠀
I said hello, had a nice chat, ordered takeaway coffee, smiled at a few people, and got back in the car delighted with myself. Like always. ⠀⠀
But I was surprised at my initial reluctance. ⠀
It was new. And not particularly welcome.
I worry about this newness. This weird new reality we’re living in. I worry about all of us. About our kids. About the impact this strange time is having on them.
Who will we be months from now? When we emerge from this lockdown.⠀⠀
Will we remember who we were before? Will we be more anxious, or more skeptical, or more unsure of ourselves?⠀⠀
Or will we remind ourselves, gently, that deep down, the old versions of ourselves are still there, a little rusty perhaps, and in need of new batteries, but ready to give it another shot?
Let’s go for the latter ♥