The Dream

Wednesday 24th May - 54 days to go

I think this is a blog series about following your dreams. It’s certainly about following my dream. Since I was small I remember being obsessed with orang-utans. I can’t pin point why, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with my being a red head - being ginger was certainly not cool growing up in the 80s and 90s and I was mercilessly bullied for my hair colour throughout secondary school. I loved school though, there were difficulties for sure, but I was bright and I had a brilliant group of friends. On the whole school was a good place for me, bullying and mental health issues aside. I was pretty stubborn, the oldest of 4 and was no pushover. I carved a niche for myself and I still count friends I made at school as some of my dearest now.

So I can’t say why orang-utans; but they have always been on my bucket list. I’ll be 40 this year and I’m finally in a place financially where being able to travel to the other side of the world is a possibility. This blog is written from a place of enormous privilege. My husband and I both work for ourselves (after many years working for others) and we both earn a good wage. We have no debt (after a very long slog of paying off a huge amount of it.) We’re not rich by Western standards, but we are comfortable, this is something I will never take for granted. I grew up in a single parent household. My mum bought my sister, brother and I up on her own for the first few years of our lives. We lived in, what I now recognise, as near poverty. It must have been insanely hard for mum, but we were shielded from so much of that struggle. As an adult, after graduating from university with a significant amount of debt it took years to get out of that cycle, poor mental health causing poor spending decisions, causing more debt, in turn affecting my mental wellness. I never again want to slip into that cycle, but I understand how easy it is to fall into that trap. That ever wakeful, ever fearful how will I pay for this, will there be a bailiff at the door, I can’t open that letter - the utter exhaustion of that life.

Here I am. I’m 39, I’m healthy and fulfilling a life long dream is in reach. Many people would have been planning this for a good deal longer, but a bit like our wedding (organised in 6 weeks!) It’s somewhat last minute. A tour was booked in March for mid July, flights confirmed and a countdown app downloaded on my phone. Excitement abound. Actually a lot of angst before the excitement, the initial quote I received was more than I had anticipated, beyond what we could afford. I cried. I couldn’t go. Next year. A pep talk later from mum and I looked at booking the tour and flight elements separately, over £1000 saved and the trip was back on. But not before the guilt. This is a LOT of money. We’re saving to buy a home. I’ll be going on my own. How selfish of me. To leave my husband and children behind.  To follow my own dream and to sacrifice our family dreams of home ownership and long term stability for another year. For that money we could go on a wonderful family holiday.

I expect many people would agree that this is a selfish thing to do. To go away for 2 weeks alone, and leave responsibilities and family behind. In fact many friends and acquaintances have expressed surprise at my decision. ‘You’re going on your own?” “Will your husband and kids manage without you?” “Will you be lonely?”

And it is surprising, how many married women, with families, do you know that go off on their own traveling? I can’t think of any that I know personally. Perhaps a girls weekend, or a hen-do. But solo-travelling? I certainly know a fair few men who go off on ski holidays for longer periods, or to motor racing events though, business trips. I rarely hear the same reactions about their choices. This misogyny is hardly surprising for us women. We deal with it on a daily basis. Our decisions scrutinised, our independence eroded - even in these more ‘enlightened’ times. From our lower pay, reduced career opportunities, our inability to go out at night without being fearful, our murder at the hands of men, the slut-shaming, and women-blaming culture, the “you were asking for it” mentality that pervades our so-called civilised society.

When we do go off on a hen-do or girls night our husbands, our children’s fathers are often referred to as ‘baby-sitting’ their own children. The women organise things, put meals in the fridge, text reminders about bedtime and school pick ups. When was the last time a man in your life did that when they were off out to the pub with some mates?