storytelling – Lessons I learned after I turned 30

My blue denim jacket

Have you ever owned an inexpensive item of negligible monetary value that you absolutely love? And you recognise you love it purely because of its sentimental value?

I’m one of the least materialistic people I know. I’d rather spend the little income I make on experiences, travel, time with friends and family, not on things. So I never spend a huge amount of money on clothes or accessories.

I often though associate my modest belongings with precious memories or people and when I lose or break one of these precious to me pieces I grieve. I, of course, understand that it’s just ‘a thing’ and losing it shouldn’t matter, but it does. Because, for me, this ‘thing’ is a memory nugget, reminding me of a special friend, a loved one, an awesome day, a significant period of my life, and I’m terrified I’d forget whatever I associate it with, if I lose one of these memory nuggets.

I’ve lost or broken a few of these memory nuggets over the years, a set of earrings my sister got me, a memory card with photos from the UK and my most recent travels to Sicily, Rhodes and Belgium, a bracelet a dear friend got me, a pair of shoes I wore absolutely everywhere, and most recently, my blue denim jacket.

‘Come on, it’s just a jacket, get another one, the same even’ one might say. But it will never be the same.

I’ve got this jacket in June, 2019. I remember that because it was one of the last purchases I made before I left the UK. And as with the majority of my decisions, I browsed for hours, painstakingly looking for the perfect jacket. Why do I find it so excruciatingly difficult, even choosing a denim jacket? But, when I came across it on the Mango website, I knew that was THE one, at least what I had in mind.

I wore it the last time I’ve hugged goodbye my UK friends in Southampton in July.

I wore it a month later, during my CELTA course, one of the most challenging, painful but rewarding months of my entire life. I wore it during our lessons, I wore it when Jonny hugged me after I told him with tears in my eyes that my grandpa had died the day before and I wore it when I hugged my classmates goodbye.

I wore it on my way back to Cyprus after 11 weird and wonderful years in the UK and on my way to Italy a few months later.

I wore it during my first year teaching at Reggio, an experience I’ll never forget and on my way back to Cyprus after going through the first wave of the global pandemic outbreak in Italy, one of the worst-hit countries.

So today I grieve the loss of my blue denim jacket and with it the friends and places I miss.

Eleni

Non parlo Italiano!

About two months ago…

I desperately needed a haircut. I couldn’t even look at my hair. Everything happened so fast I didn’t get the chance to have my hair cut before I moved to Italy and the last one I had was early in the summer in Southampton (I miss the UK so much more I dare to admit sometimes).

Of course it wasn’t about the hair. It was all about self care and I’d started neglecting myself, pretty dangerous for me, it lets the depression and severe anxiety demons creep in and slowly take over without me realising until is too late, so I had to get my hair cut. Urgently.

I’m not sure if you remember where I live now, it’s a small city where very few people you come across speak English, so even the thought of attempting to book an appointment I found intimidating.

But self-preservation prevailed and I wouldn’t let my very poor Italian get in the way. (My Italian hasn’t improved much since, in case you are wondering.)

If you asked me what the most common expression I’ve used so far during my first three months in Italy was, it’s not ‘scusi’, or ‘per favore’ but..

‘Non parlo Italiano’.

It’s my opening line most of the time. Oh no, I actually first speak in English, as I often forget they won’t understand me, then I notice the baffled expression on their face and I explain.

So here’s how I managed to get a (decent) haircut with minimal communication but plenty of awkwardness.

Eleni- ‘Hi, I’d like too…, oh sh**. Non parlo Italiano, parle Inglese?

Hairdresser- Mmmm, no… (waves at one of the other hairdressers who knows a bit of English apparently).

El- Taglio (cut). Pointing at my hair. ‘Un po’ (How the hell do you say ‘trim’ in Italian?)

H-Si. Quando? (Yes! Finally a word I know!)

El-Sabato, matina (morning)?

H– (After checking their appointment book). Mm, tredici? (1pm, Italians tend to follow the 24hr format).

E– Si, si, grazie!

Pheew. First step done. I managed to book an appointment!

Saturday (haircut day)

11pm

I couldn’t remember if the appointment was at 11am or 1pm. In my head numbers were mixed up the minute I left the hairdressers two day ago. Full time teaching does that to you, messing up your brain. So I went at 11am, just to check. The hairdressers burst into laughing. I thought I’d attempt to go food shopping since I got up anyway, but the supermarket was way too busy for my liking (Damn, I could have stayed in bed a little longer).

1pm

I walked in. I had no idea what to say or do. The place was full of customers chatting away. I felt paralysed, mute. I couldn’t let any words out. I didn’t know how to. I could understand some of the conversations but I couldn’t take part. A horrible feeling.

That’s how my students must feel… I kept thinking.

After about half an hour wait (which I was ‘lucky’ as quite often you wait way longer, I was told), I was summoned on the chair.

The stylist asked me how I wanted my hair. I managed to explain (thanks to Antonella, Elena and Google translate) that I just wanted a trim and layers but not too short.

I was terrified. What if she gives me a horrible haircut, what if I end up looking like a pencil?

Image result for fleabag i look like a pencil meme

We didn’t speak much after that. She couldn’t speak English, I couldn’t speak Italian. She made an effort, which I appreciated, she asked me if I was a student, thankfully I knew how to say ‘I’m an English teacher’. My second most used expression (‘insegnante di Inglese’).

An hour later and after a lot of miming and gesturing (and a few word exhanges partially thanks to similarities between Greek and Italian), I left the hairdressers relieved I didn’t look like a pencil, it was actually a decent haircut and cheap compared to UK prices (12 euros).

But it was the most awkward hairdresser’s experience I ever had. And kind of funny at the same time. I had a little giggle afterwards. It’s fascinating how we humans manage to communicate even when we don’t speak the same language, although sometimes we can’t communicate even if we do speak the same language. The irony.

A month later and I’m none the wiser when it comes to Italian. My timetable doesn’t allow me to attend Italian lessons anymore, though I’m still learning from my students, who feel incredibly proud judging by the huge smile on their face every time they teach me an Italian word.

I’m not sure I’d like to stay in (Southern) Italy after my contract ends, but one thing I discovered is that I love living somewhere I’ve never lived before, being thrown into the deep, learning how to… well how to adopt and survive in another country, another culture, another life. That’s something I definitely want more of.

For now, I’ll enjoy the rest of my stay at this little, odd town that is Reggio Calabria.

Namaste

Eleni

Twas the night of superhumans…

It was a crispy cold, dark, Sunday night… Hannah and I arrived at the Point in Eastleigh around 6:30pm to set up for the evening’s Touch event.

Their Christmas decorations were already up and it looked beautiful, cosy, almost magical.

It was unusually quiet, probably because of the weather. It’s tough to find the motivation to get out of the house when you are already snuggled on your sofa on a Sunday but in the end it actually made the evening even more special, you’ll see in a minute.

Debs asked me to host again, it became second nature by now and I’m glad I did because last night’s stories I will always remember vividly. Every storytelling eve is amazing and inspiring, but last night’s? Last night’s was on another level.

First up was Lynda and by the end of her talk, there was not a single dry eye in the house. Lynda talked about how living with borderline personality disorder is for her, the struggles, the ups and downs, how she learned to live with her emotions affected by every day, to others normal events, her fears and phobias, the low lows and dangerous highs that come with borderline personality disorder and whilst doing that dealing with what ever life threw at her, from emotional abuse by her family, her first husband leaving her with her three boys, her second husband becoming aggressive, losing her job…

But every single time she picked up the pieces and tried again and again, for her boys who loves dearly and love her and two of them were there to cheer her on. As soon as she finished her talk her boys came up and hugged her. What a moment.

That’s why it’s so important to share our own experiences when it comes to mental health. The more we share the more others can understand that mental illness is as serious and debilitating as any other illness and the more we understand, the more we can help each other.

I had no idea what to say after this. It’s always incredible when someone shares their stories with others, but to share something so deeply personal, to bare all in front of strangers, it was just amazing. What an amazing woman Lynda is, superwoman.

Next up was Luke, who travelled all the way from Eastbourne to be with us last night. And oh my, what a talk he gave. Luke worked for years as a social care worker, helping people with complex, severe mental illnesses, from a man who would tear his own skin off to a lady that needed attention all the time otherwise she wouldn’t eat or sleep. He loved his job, he loved what he did and thinking back to his childhood and his values, the willow tree of his personal values-what a beautiful metaphor-, it all made sense, it all fit, everything he did could trace back to those values.

But he always struggled with having to follow the rules his role as a social care worker dictated, and he is now starting his own social enterprise helping vulnerable people. Another superhuman.

After a short break it was time for Theresa* (not real name) to share her story. I had a chat with Theresa at the break and I was already excited to hear her talk. We all expected to hear how her adorable canine partner, who was there with her and we all absolutely loved petting, has changed her life. But Theresa shared much more. Whilst working as a teacher with primary school children from neglected families, she decided to adopt two of them but her husband unexpectedly got arrested for fraud.

She had already been ill for a while, as she discovered she had lyme disease, which started affecting her quality of life and her job. So she moved back to her mum’s with the children for a while. Theresa, as the superwoman she is, managed to get back to work, she learned how to parent her little ones who she found out later have not only been neglected but their birth parents had mental health issues and with the help of her wheelchair and her canine friend, she didn’t let her condition affect her independence.

She is now happily married again, she legally adopted her children, she works for a charity and is also chairing a parenting group. Superwoman!

Last but not least was our own Debs, another superhuman who shared her story. Debs shared her personal story of dealing with depression many times since she founded Touch (you can watch her beautiful Southampton Tedx talk here), but last night she talked about her journey from a support worker, charity worker to a successful freelance project manager working in London.

But that wasn’t her, that didn’t put her talents, her social skills and love of talking to people and her creativity to best use. So she quit and took a leap of faith and did what she always wanted to do, help others first hand by starting a social enterprise, Touch where anyone can come and share their own personal story and inspire one another. See, that’s when humans flourish, doing what they love. You just need to get over the scary part of taking the risk and ask. If you won’t ask, you’ll never know.

I’ve heard this story of hers for the first time about a month ago but it still got me. What an amazing human.

Last night felt different than others. It felt extraordinarily inspiring, touching, really just magical.

Maybe it’s because as Theresa said ‘our own stories, makes us who we are, our stories is who we are’ and sharing who we are, talking in front of strangers about who you are, your most inner thoughts, fears, pain and not afraid to be vulnerable is completely different to any other talk.

And with a smaller than expected audience, made it even more intimate and touching.

I have missed many details and this is just a tiny taste of last night’s event, the feeling of being there, in front of these amazing humans can’t be replicated, but I hope you felt a little bit of the magic I felt.

Thank you Hannah, not only for giving me a lift, but for all the amazing work you do for every evening. Another superhuman!

Eleni

Tea, cake and life stories in Hamble

Balm for the soul, that’s how it felt, every story, every conversation, every laugh it was as if an invisible hand holding my heart smothered it in balm, soothing, healing balm.

Tuesday, 30th of October, 2018

The day finally arrived for the next Touch event, one of the highlights of my month. I love everything about it, the atmosphere, the venues, usually at intimate, cute little cafes, the incredible stories, the people, it’s all about the people. To be there when another human decides to bare all, share their story and be vulnerable in front of strangers is so beautiful, it brings me to tears.

Debs asked me if I’d like to host again and I’m glad she did. The first time I did it I was tiny bit nervous and also going through another confidence crisis due to a recent rejection which resulted in me stumbling a little, worrying whether maybe my accent might me too heavy and people can’t understand a word I’m saying, they might not like me or they wonder what the hell I was doing there, so now it was the perfect opportunity to just be the usual me, well almost, all things going wrong lately have taken its toll and I find it unbelievably tempting to hide from everyone and everything.

This event took place in Hamble, for the first time, thanks to Tesco Bags of Help. Did you know that Tesco uses the money they raise from the sale of carrier bags to fund local projects across communities in the UK? I had no idea. But Touch applied for funding and Tesco Bags of Help kindly donated money for Debs to run events across Hampshire, for free, and this was the first one.

So around 6:30pm, Hannah, Rachael, Debs and I were at the cutest little cafe situated on a picturesque street in Hamble, Jenny’s cafe, preparing for our story telling evening.

Question jars and fliers on the tables, mic set, and after I met all our lovely speakers, I had a warm chamomile tea and a slice of delicious Raspberry Bakewell cake, I was up to introduce our first guest.

This time I had a quick glimpse at my notes to make sure I don’t forget any important information and the most wonderful thing happened. I made everyone laugh. I could not believe it. What an amazing feeling. That moment right there, was one of those rare ones I felt overwhelmingly happy. I haven’t had one of these since early September, sitting on a swing on the most beautiful terrace at Cyherbia botanical park.

After my short introduction, Bhavin stood up in front of a now full of people cafe to share his life long struggle with low self-esteem, depression and severe anxiety. He is now doing so much better he made it to Hamble to talk to a group of strangers about it. He was nervous, his hands were shaking but he did it. And I can imagine how hard it might have been for him. I know first hand how debilitating anxiety can be, I know how it can physically and mentally paralyse you and it takes all your strength to control it. This is a prime example of what Touch is about. It’s such an honour and privilege to be there when a wonderful human shares his most personal, vulnerable story.

After presenting Bhavin with his ‘I told my story’ badge, Jan was up to share her story. It was, like Bhavin the first time she came to a Touch event and the first time she shared her story in public. Jan had an accident a while ago, which immobilised her for 14 weeks. For someone as active as Jan it was incredibly hard. She couldn’t cook, walk, drive, walk. And although tough, through her experience she discovered what a wonderful Community she lives in. Her friends and neighbours would make her dinner, drive her to the hospital, keep her company, made her feel she is never alone. She not only learned that it’s OK to ask for help but also that people love to help.

After a short break for more tea and cake and chats, it was time for Paul to share his story. I had no doubt he’d be a great speaker. I’ve met him earlier in the evening and he is one of those naturally charismatic people who makes you feel comfortable talking to him, truly listens and gives you all his attention.

I couldn’t believe that Paul used to hate public speaking. He avoided it for years and one day, whilst training on presentation skills realised that what he was scared was not public speaking, he realised he was terrified of being the centre of attention, due to his troublesome childhood. Coming to this realisation was not easy but he is now a life coach and loves public speaking. This the power of human nature. When you stop for a minute and take the time to look inside, be brave to face your fears and understand what it is that’s causing it, not be scared to be vulnerable. That’s when you become friends with yourself and can move forward.

The last speaker of the evening was our own Debs. Debs told her story many times before (you can watch her beautiful Southampton Tedx talk here), that’s what led her to found Touch but tonight it was a different story, one that I haven’t heard before. She talked about her journey, from a support worker, charity worker to a successful freelance project manager working in London. But that wasn’t her, that didn’t put her talents, her social skills and love of talking to people and her creativity to best use. So she quit and took a leap of faith and did what she always wanted to do, help others first hand by starting a social enterprise, Touch where anyone can come and share their own personal story and inspire one another. See, that’s when humans flourish, doing what they love. You just need to get over the scary part of taking the risk and ask. If you won’t ask, you’ll never know.

Here’s a little video of last night’s speakers the lovely Sam put together.

What a great end to a truly wonderful evening. Thank you to all the amazing speakers, the lovely guests who came to listen to all the inspiring stories, Lizzie at Jenny’s Cafe for her hospitality and delicious cakes and Debs and Hannah for introducing me to such a great community and letting me be a part of their amazing team.

That was one of the very few times in the last month or so I forgot about every single worry and pain. That was balm for the soul, my soul.

If you’d like to share your story or volunteer with us all details on the Touch website. And if you fancy coming along to one of these amazing evenings here is a list of all our future events. The next one is at the Point at Eastleigh, on the 18th of November and it’s free!

Eleni

July the 16th, the Monday before

July the 16th, a date that filled me with joy and anticipation, the day I were to move out of a shared flat into my own little heaven once again, a day I’ve been eagerly waiting for months… a day that caused me sleepless nights and severe anxiety, though it was all worth it in the end.

Monday, 9th of July, the week before the big date…

Morning. Another sleepless night. I drag myself out of bed, get ready as fast as I possibly can and head to work. The weather has been glorious, sun shining, birds chirping, but my stress has transformed everything into a melancholic Van Gogh painting.

I find a wrapped bottle of something on my desk… What is it? Who is it from?

Denise brought me rose water from Cyprus!!! I can’t believe she remembered.

I open it there and then and wash my hands with it. I almost cried. Sweet childhood memories of hot summer days back home, washing my giagia Stella’s face with it, spraying it in my face ’cause I loved the smell so much.

For a moment I forget all my troubles. I wish Denise knew what that meant to me. I needed that brief time of calmness and joy in the sea of worries that’s been drowning me for the last couple of weeks. I’m so lucky to have such wonderful friends.

12:45pm. I just came back to work after the fourth viewing in the last two weeks. I think I liked this flat the most out of the rest. It’s small, but not a studio, it’s just opposite work, is a bit over budget but it will do. I can make it work.

I saw a recipe in Greek on the fridge, hah he is Greek…

It will finally put an end to this endless anxiety and constant worry whether I’d have somewhere to move to next Monday. But not just somewhere, somewhere I at least like.

The flats I’ve already seen were either too small, or too old, or no washing machine, or no oven (I have no idea how the person who lived there survived without an oven). I guess I can always compromise.

If I could make a decision…

The excruciating pain of my paralysing inability to make a decision… Should I go for a studio flat and try and save more money or should I pay a bit more and live somewhere nice for the first time ever after I broke up with Costas, rather than a tiny studio or an old building or living with a flatmate again? What’s most important? Location or space? What should I do? Compromise and try to save or go for comfort for once? Treat myself instead? But Chris is right, it may be better to wait and find a place I really like, a place that feels like home. What if I don’t find a place by next Monday, what if I end up on the street? What if am making the wrong decision? What is the meaning of life anyway? Aaaah

I haven’t slept well in weeks, I don’t have much of an appetite and I feel I may throw up any minute now.

I’m waiting for the agency to give me a call back and let me know whether the current tenant can move out of the flat by Monday, they reassured me that would probably be OK, but they have to check with him…

-We’ll let you know as soon as possible, in a couple of hours, he (the tenant) usually gets back to us quick.

2pm, 3pm, 4pm, 5pm. I haven’t heard back from them.

I could barely concentrate at work, but thankfully managed to keep on top.

I went home, had something small to eat and went to bed. I couldn’t do anything else.

What if the tenant can’t move out on the 16th? Should I go for one of the flats I’ve already seen? Maybe the larger studio I liked but in an ugly, dirty building? Should I stay with Jamie for a while instead until I find somewhere I really like? But what will I do with my stuff? Maybe just go for the small, tiny one that is available now?

Pleasee stop, everything will be OK, I’m sure the agent will call first thing in the morning and tell you everything will be fine, go to sleep. But what if?

I barely slept.

A foster carer, a former priest and other super humans: A night to remember

Thursday, 14th of June

Hannah picked me up from home. We are heading to BySea cafe in Portswood. The next live storytelling event is about to start in a couple of hours and I’m a tiny bit nervous. But I can’t wait. Exhilarated.

I keep hearing this in my head. Somewhere in the desert there’s a forest…And an acre before us…

Today is going to be a special one, I can feel it. As soon as I’ve read about the speakers.

Hannah and I went early to set up. It was all done in less than half an hour, we even had time for a cup of tea and an enormous slice of cake. The portions at Bysea are huge.

I’m a little nervous because Debs asked me to host tonight’s event, talk at the start, introduce the speakers and bring it all to an end after the last speaker.

I love chatting but I never spoke in front of an audience before. I guess I did if you count the short speech at the last year of primary school, when I was 12 (which my cousin wrote for me, she was 18 at the time and was just about to study pedagogy to become a prime school teacher, she always wrote beautifully) and about 3 years ago the eulogy at my aunt’s funeral which again my cousin wrote, but this time it was for her mum and I was reading it on her behalf. Hardest thing I had to do in my life ever. To the day.

But I never ever spoke in English in front of an audience.

I don’t get too stressed nowadays, not any more but I was still a bit anxious. And also excited.

What’s the worst it could happen?

Just before 8pm.

The place is buzzing. Debs and Hannah were worried not many people will show up, there were a couple of other events on the same night, but the place is full.

Time to go up!

I don’t want to look at my notes much so I look around, at our guests, into their eyes.

God everyone is staring at me! Why?

You are talking to them you silly. You are the centre of the attention. They are supposed to look at and listen to you.

I panicked for a second and I forgot a couple of things I needed to say, it’s OK you can mention them late, so I went ahead and introduced our first speakers.

Jon and Chris.

(I struggled to find the right words that can capture the beauty of their story. I hope I did it justice).

A sweet couple, Jon and Chris came up on stage, and read out loud their story in turns. The story of their beloved daughter Katie. From the little I learned about her through her parents, she must have been an amazing human being. Despite all the tough ‘challenges’ (I hate this word, it cannot capture the pain, the torture, physical, emotional and mental that one can experience) life through at her, disability, cancer, she was determined to live life to the full.

She lived on her own, she drove, she studied at University and although when she was first diagnosed with cancer she was given a few years to live, she lived 17 more years. She proved them wrong!

She was incredibly strong, brave and considerate until the very end. The night before she died she listened to her friend talking about her everyday problems and worries, although she was in terrible pain herself. That’s the kind of person she was.

Jon and Chris went on to talk about how they are dealing with their grief, after Katie passed away 18 months ago and how their faith helped them. A friend once told Jon how grief is like a circle, the circle is all about the loved one you lost and at the start, you are in the centre of the circle, you cannot see past the sadness and the chaos. But as time goes by, you get out of the circle and it gets smaller, you can see beyond it, but it’s always there. You learn how to live with it. (I hope I remember it correctly, I got emotional at this point, it reminded me of my aunt, her death and how each of us are coping with it, in different ways, two and a half years later).

They took up new hobbies, e.g. Jon went on a cooking training class so she can teach others how to cook and they still do things Katie liked, not to reminisce and feel sad, but because they enjoy them too.

By the time they were done, I was already in tears. But it was time to get up and introduce the next speaker. I was so emotional I forgot to thank them publicly, on the mic, after I’ve given them their ‘I shared my story’ badges. What an idiot!

Dominic

Next up it was Dominic. He started off with a poem (he had the smoothest, most beautiful voice, I hope he seriously considers my suggestion of him start doing podcasts)…

Breathing under water

I built my house by the sea.

Not on the sands, mind you;
not on the shifting sand.
And I built it of rock.

A strong house
by a strong sea.
And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.
Good neighbors.
Not that we spoke much.
We met in silences.
Respectful, keeping our distance,
but looking our thoughts across the fence of sand.
Always, the fence of sand our barrier,
always, the sand between.

And then one day,
-and I still don’t know how it happened –
the sea came.
Without warning.

Without welcome, even
Not sudden and swift, but a shifting across the sand like wine,
less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.
Slow, but coming.
Slow, but flowing like an open wound.
And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death.
And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it reached my door.
And I knew, then, there was neither flight, nor death, nor drowning.
That when the sea comes calling, you stop being neighbors,
Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance neighbors,
And you give your house for a coral castle,
And you learn to breathe underwater.

Sr. Carol Bieleck, RSCJ
from an unpublished work

Dominic’s life was full of ups and downs, a friend used to call him Forrest Gump. And by the end of his talk I understood why.

The strict, often cruel teachers at the boarding school he went to, put him down, repeatedly told him he ‘won’t amount to much’.

Later in life he discovered he’d like to become a priest. It wasn’t an easy ride, he couldn’t even afford to buy the essentials on the list he was given, and he’d often borrow from the church in Portswood.

Five years after he became a priest, he suddenly, fell in love. He gave up priesthood to marry the love of his life.

After that he dealt with redundancy ‘One day I was a chief operative for a charity, the next day I was down at the job centre’ and other hurdles that came his way over the years.

His message: Life is unpredictable, you never know what the next day will bring you, but life is also beautiful, and when you learn to breath underwater, to face everything without drowning or giving up, you build a deepest, most meaningful appreciation for life.

Sam

The third speaker, Sam lost his dad to cancer about two years ago.

He found it hard to process his grief, until he discovered open water swimming. ‘Those fifteen minutes when swimming becomes automatic and you don’t have to think about moving your arms or your legs, those fifteen minutes of clarity of mind’.

When I heard this my mind went straight to meditation and how I feel when I do my yoga.

And just after I thought of that, surprisingly, Sam said ‘my friends told me when I described it to them, that’s similar to meditation’.

I kept thinking what was the one thing that helped me the most to overcome my grief three years ago. Writing. That’s what helped me. This blog.

Sam started a website since, Sporting Heads, where he shares stories, similar to his of mental health benefits of sports and exercise.

Jenny (ft Annie)

The last speaker Jenny (with the help of her dear friend Annie who interviewed her) is a foster carer. She fostered 52 children in 13 years!!

Jen shared incredible anecdotes of her life as a foster carer. What came across strongly was Jen’s unconditional love and care for the children, despite everything that comes with fostering a child.

A little girl she fostered used to defecate every time someone compliment her. Every time someone said ‘Isn’t she lovely?’. She is now doing much better, thanks to Jen.

This is just one of the many stories she shared with us.

Jen wouldn’t be able to do what she does without her support network, her friends, her family, her husband and ten children, and the community.

It’s not always easy, actually it’s not easy full stop. Most children come from troubled families, some they’ve been neglected others have been abused, they often struggle emotionally and physically, but with Jen’s love, care and patience, they grow stronger.

Annie read as a letter from one of Jenny’s foster children. It was impossible not to tear up.

I could sit and listen to these two ladies all night.

What a great way to end this wonderful evening.

At the end I got the chance to chat to some of these wonderful humans.

I asked Dominic about the poem he recited and told me how he came across it. He read it in a friend’s book, an American priest and was actually written by a nun. He gave me a copy to take home. What a sweet man.

I had a great chat with Annie, who I found out earlier amongst a million other things she does, she runs Communicare, a Southampton mental health charity tackling loneliness and isolation, which I recently signed up as a volunteer. Superwoman!

I went home feeling inspired, touched, blessed, happy, honoured I got to introduce and hear the stories of these amazing people.

If you have a story to share, get in touch. Everyone has a story. We all have a story. And that’s what Touch is all about, share our stories, learn from each other, touch each other’s lives.

And if you get the chance, come along to one of the events. Intimate, inspirational, so beautifully simple, humanity at it’s best.

Namaste

Eleni

A beautiful evening of real life stories

I love a good story.

I love sharing my stories, not just my funny every day ones, but the more intimate, personal, vulnerable ones. That’s how this blog started originally, with What I learned before I turn 30… Sharing what I learned from my experiences so others can learn from them too…

So when browsing the Southampton Volunteer Services pages, Touch Network instantly grabbed my attention. A small Southampton charity getting every day people to share their stories. And I signed up to volunteer helping them out with the events they put together.

Last Wednesday I was invited by the lovely Hannah to go to their event to get an idea, and to help me decide if it’s for me.

As soon as I walked in and talked to Hannah, I felt the love and kindness in the room. I could tell from everyone’s faces. Sometimes I can just tell just by looking at people.

Hannah introduced me to Richard and his daughter Nikki and sat with them for the whole night. They were both so sweet and lovely.

Nikki was the first speaker. Her little boy arrived three months early and he had to spend 50 days at the hospital. She talked us through her experience as a first time mum, who couldn’t hold her baby for days, unsure whether he’d survive, how she coped with the guilt and the pain. It didn’t take long for my eyes to get all teary. It always amazes me how we humans cope with the most excruciatingly painful, unexpected situations life throws at us.

Next up was Clare. Talking about how music helped her through her most difficult times. Misdiagnosed with brain tumour, recently diagnosed with autism and rewinding her whole life, making sense of situations that baffled her before she knew about her autism. In the end she played us two gorgeous, beautiful songs she wrote on her guitar. Oh my. What a beautiful, sweet voice. She was amazing, I don’t think she knew how amazing she was.

After a short break I spent chatting to Richard about everything and anything, it was time for the next speaker Frances. Her whole life was a struggle, since she was a child. I couldn’t believe some of the things I’ve heard. Bullying, dealing with physical and mental illness but overcoming all to today helping others, although she still has to cope with her physical restraints. Funny, witty, emotional, real. Another amazing human who survived in this life because of the love and support of other amazing humans when she needed it the most.

Last but not least, Chix. What a man. A primary school teacher whose severe anxiety made him stop and re-evaluate his life. He talked about his ‘scientist vs artist’ challenge, as he is also a musician, an artist and how he now leads a more balanced life, spending more time with his friends and his family and also doing other things other than teaching. He talked about the being or becoming a teacher debate. Surely you have to have the charisma and personality to do so, you have to love it, I personally think but you can also learn as you go along.

Chix’s messages I remember the most: Invest in the special people in your life, make time for them. You know who they are, they are the ones who are there for you no matter what. Even if you haven’t spoken for a while. His friends and family, his special ones were there on the night to cheer him on.

And you can be whoever you are. You don’t have to be a scientist or an artist, you can be either, both or neither. Be who you want to be and just be happy.

I left feeling inspired and so incredibly blessed I got to meet all these amazing people and learn from their stories.

When Hannah asked me in the end of the night if I still wanted to volunteer after being at the event, I didn’t have to think twice.

The next event will take place on the 17th of May, at Solent and I can’t wait.

I have a feeling this is the start of something truly wonderful…

Eleni