I’ve big news. I’m going back to University. As of yesterday I’m a fully registered and enrolled student, again! In July I got accepted to study for my MA in Creative Writing at Queens University Belfast. Fair to say that I am excited and terrified in equal measure – What if I’m the oldest in the class by decades? How will I juggle it with motherhood? What if everyone laughs at what I write, or what I’ve got to say? What if I’m not good enough? All these questions, and more, have been whizzing about my head and feeding my internal monologue. And yesterday they were joined by a healthy dose of ‘What the F***k am I doing?’ Everyone was so, so young. I’m not in the habit of hanging around with folk barely out of their teens. I’m either with little folk who still need help wiping their arse, or people with faces like my own; faces with creases, faces with stories to tell. NOT faces that look so… new. And here’s the other thing; they are all so sure of themselves, they seem to know exactly where they’re heading, they already know their place in the world. It was terrifying. Borderline traumatic. Where have the past twenty years gone? Surely there must be a mistake? I felt completely out of place. Unlike my self-assured compatriots, panic and fear seeped through my system.
I gathered myself over a coffee (though I felt more in need of gin) and I stopped judging. I stopped presuming that everyone was looking at me with pity thinking I was a sad old woman still in pursuit of her dreams at almost forty! I thought of myself at nineteen or twenty years old. I thought about the things I would do differently, if I had my time again. I thought about what my nineteen year old self would make of my thirty-nine year old self. I thought about what I might say to her, if I had the chance. Because I remembered that once upon a time, I too, was a confident young woman who thought she knew her place in the world, who thought she knew what she clearly didn’t. I was that girl. And even though, she has all the benefits of youth on her side, the woman I am today would not swap with her. As the Dixie Chicks say, ‘I’ve gone the long way around’. Maybe not everything in my professional life is how I might have envisaged when I was a nineteen year old university student, but it’s only when you get older that you realise not everything in life goes quite to plan. I feel lucky and blessed to be healthy, to have a happy marriage and two wonderful sons. I guess all those fresh-faced students will have to live a bit longer to appreciate just how precious the simple things are. To realise that sometimes you have to go back, in order to move forwards.
Classes start next week. Please God don’t let the lecturers be young enough to be my off-spring!
The sun is setting on the first day of summer holidays for 2016 (who am I kidding? There hasn’t actually been any sun!) and already my four year old spent most of the afternoon in his bedroom on ‘time-out’ while I took deep breaths and tried to keep a handle on my temper. He’s bright, energetic and has been likened on occasion to the Tasmanian Devil, in a word, he is challenging. Challenging at the best of times, but all day everyday for eight weeks, quite honestly, has me reaching for the gin bottle. I know I’m not the only Mum to be frantically booking every summer scheme within a ten mile radius, because summer, for some of us SAHM’s is a colder version of hell.
If you follow me on social media thingys you’ll have seen that we’ve a new addition to our family in the form of a Weimaraner pup. (Because trying to pull together a second book, look after two boys and oversee a house renovation is not enough -I only have myself to blame!) But hopefully it will explain why I’m taking the approach of 
Natasha Geary 