The challenges of parenting seemed obvious to me. Crying, sleeplessness, poop, blah blah blah. Surprisingly, I’ve struggled with something far more difficult to overcome: my introverted and shy nature.
My default mode is reading a book by myself, headphones and iPod on, in a room with the door shut. I love doing stuff by myself. Eating out, art galleries, seeing movies – you name it, I’ve most likely done it solo. One of my uni lecturers nicknamed me “the girl with no friends”, because I’d often turn up to lectures by myself, instead of surrounded by a posse of mates. I had friends, but I always preferred my own company.
I’m now a mum of two, and very rarely do I have a moment to myself. Just now, I had a shower and I put my baby son in the bathroom with me, because he cries if he can’t see his mum. My three-year-old daughter sleeps in my bed, and always wants to sit on my lap. I’m with at least one other person 24 hours a day.