BWRT & Me – I’m not changing, I’m changing back.

Once upon a time there was a girl who believed she could be anything and do anything she wanted. This was in spite of many of her dreams being very much out of reach. It was in spite of not having the background to make it easy. It was in spite of every single person on the way who told her she couldn’t or she shouldn’t. The more you told her not to do something the more determined she was to do it. She believed she could if only she had the means or the money. She had nothing but the utmost belief in her own ability not through talent but through hard work and blood, sweat and tears. She was miss independent. She was never afraid to speak up for what she thought was right, to go against the grain, to question the essence of the universe. She never met a fight she was afraid of. She never backed down.

She was the most glorious example of what Jane Austen called a “stubborn, obstinate girl”.

Except, over time things, started to erode that belief. Too many ill achievements, too many negative comments, too many bad experiences. Being misunderstood, being criticised, talking too much, acting too little, never having the right words at the right time. Never understanding how to be herself. Always playing a role, acting the clown, making people laugh to avoid being awkward. Always taking over conversations because trying to figure out when to interject was too hard. Having a terror of failure. Being afraid to fall down in case she couldn’t get back up. This wasn’t to do with horses – this was to do with everything – staying still became comfortable and every try and fail shrunk that comfort circle.

Two years ago a friend asked me in her own words to ‘knit her back together’ and I said I’d try. I didn’t do much, I just was there – while she made herself ride, while she pushed her boundaries, where she found her balance. To be honest, she always knew how to fly, I just gave her her wings back. I am an operations manager by profession – I analyse problems, I fix things. I can usually help or fix most people or things – give me humpty dumpty and a roll of mcguyver tape and I’d have him right.

The only thing I’ve never been able to fix is myself.

A few months ago my comfort zone had shrunk to a pretty small island of “I can” in a sea of “not a fooking chance am I dipping my toe in there”. If you asked me what I was good at I’d have said five things – coaching, clipping, selling things, jumping Sammy and designing and riding freestyle. That’s a pretty small list of things. Then it happened – the f*ckening. I went to a working hunter to ride in a modest 90cm class. I got to fence three, committed to a stride and I went. The horse chipped in and then went – he catapulted me, I somersaulted, my neck made an interesting sound and his hoof clipped my leg. I jumped up to get out his way frightening the lovely judge in the process. I was ok – I was extremely lucky – I was sore and bruised for a week or two but I frightened the life out of myself. I also felt fairly bloody stupid as of course I’d brought a load of kids and my step daughter out competing and went bum over tit and bought sand. I obeyed my own team rule of you have thirty minutes to whinge and then get on with it. The thing is though, I’d frightened myself and I didn’t want to jump after that.

Next I headed to the dressage championships. I tried my best to be a good competitor, to help and encourage others, to have a good time regardless of scores. I was just looking forward to freestyle. That night I got horribly sick. I shook and sweated all night. I threw up until I was empty twice over. I told myself that I could do it if I just got on the horse and with help, I did. I felt worse after and ended up being put in  jeep and driven home where I couldn’t get out of bed for two days. I’d hit the wall. I’d last been seen sick as a dog in public after getting the worst scores of my life in the one last riding related thing I thought I wasn’t useless at. I just honestly didn’t want to do any of it anymore. I felt like a fraud coaching. I also had had a fairly grim disagreement the week before with someone which was simply an argument that got out of hand and for which we both apologised but it stung me. I’d lost confidence, I’d lost some friends, I’d lost ambition and I’d lost my way.

I kept going as lovely people seemed to still want me to do things like compering an event, making social media posts and riding their horses but I didn’t believe in myself anymore. I have a lovely three year old Ross got me to ride and I wouldn’t ride him as I just didn’t think I was good enough and would mess him up. I didn’t want to jump Oisin for the same reason – he was too scopey and too keen and I just wasn’t able and would ruin him. Ross is actually my biggest advocate – hes always telling me you need to jump, you need to produce amateur riding horses, you need to ride more. Rory and Len were the same – jump Oisin, enjoy him, do more. I just couldn’t really do anything unless I made myself and when I did, I had lost the love for it.

The one thing that stuck in my head was how different a friend was at that championship. While she was shouting ‘mate, you are literally green, are you alright?’ I was looking at her and thinking I want to look like that. Where as before she seemed anxious, awkward, inward and sometimes frustrated – now she looked like this serene rider and coach – she looked happy and I was thrilled for her and I wanted to feel like that. When she posted soon after that she had achieved this through BWRT in an uncharacteristic burst of action I contacted the practitioner in question. I hadn’t a clue what BWRT even was but I didn’t care as my friend had explained its not talk therapy its action based. I don’t do talk therapy. I appreciate it really works for some people. I did try it once but nope I’m not paying money to cry in front of people a) I fooking hate crying and b) I can do that by myself and spend the money on something shiny as retail therapy. Also in my experience, talk therapy is like when you first take the brand new clippers and the perfectly coiled clipper cable out of the box – it is never gonna fit back in again and you cant close the bloody box again and I’m too OCD to be dealing with the mental version of that.

Kate Osmaston rang me fairly soon after I text her. Now if you know me you will know I am allergic to phone calls with someone I don’t know but I answered and I spoke to her and it was just… easy. It was like I knew her forever. BWRT stands for Brain Working Recursive Therapy. It works on the most primitive part of our brain, the reptilian complex and for someone like me stuck in flight or fight, unable to do things at such a basic level, it sounded like exactly what I needed. So I decided to invest in myself. Not just in terms of horses but in all aspects of life because this theme of being stuck applied. I did five weeks of work with Kate. She was brilliantly unafraid to challenge me and to call me on my own bullsh*t and im glad because therapy that’s too insular or indulgent doesn’t work for me – I needed a good kick up the hole and my god, she gave it to me. This wasn’t about dwelling on the past or crying or over analysing. It was about looking back at formative events with clarity and dealing with them so that they no longer mattered. It was about taking ownership of myself again.

Kate also made me realise how passive I’d become – while in some unpleasant situations I was the culprit through my own behaviour, in others I was allowing people to treat me badly and walk all over me. I’d also broken my own first rule – I’d forgotten how to dream. I no longer wanted to achieve goals, I was just in pure survival mode. Kate managed to identify the root cause of most of my problems – a freeze response that inhibited decision making across all aspects of my life.

The overarching principle about BWRT is forming your ideal self in your mind and then gradually in actuality. That’s what I loved about it – its not about anyone else’s idea of what’s ideal, it’s your own. It felt like a mixture of sports psychology and life coaching. Am I my ideal self? No – far far from it. However, do I now know who that is? Yes. Its remarkably like the girl I used to be – before I allowed anyone or anything to put limits on me.

Since those valuable weeks with Kate I’ve been competing both of my horses in dressage and in jumping and I’ve felt joy again – pure happiness in being on their back. I’ve started riding my three year old with Ross and last week we started riding him in the arena alone and in company. I’ve learned to ignore who or what doesn’t matter. I’ve stopped feeling like an imposter in work. I’ve felt more confident in coaching. There are so many areas still to work on but I’ve learned to allow myself down time, to stop punishing myself for not getting everything done, to give myself time to live and learn. Kate and I will meet again for my next online session next month and I have many things to practice before then.

One key thing I have l realised is the old adage of surrounding yourself with positive people. People who would have your back in a room or a conversation you were not in. People who love you and respect you flaws and all. People who you can take the mask off in front of. People who understand why you are always late (you know who you are), people who make life easier not harder.

Every single day I have to work on this – physically and mentally. Its not easy, it’s an effort, but its important. Some days I am closer than others to being who I want to be. Some days I win, some days I fail. I have to fight against myself to remember one step back doesn’t mean we are going backwards. The key thing is that I don’t lose sight of her – the person I am working towards turning into. Blinkers on – no looking back.

I told Kate that one of my favourite pieces of literature is a poem called “The Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock”by T.S. Eliot. We learned it in school. Most people thought, meh, another poem. Me, the class wierdo, I loved it. Nothing had ever resonated with me so much in my life and decades on – still does. Prufrock is stuck you see. He can visualise his ideal self but then every time he tries to break out of his shell, he talks himself out of it and resigns himself to being unable.

Prufrock was stuck in indecision too –

“Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.”

“Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse”

The end of it for me, is the saddest part because Prufrock doesn’t achieve his ideal self, he resigns himself to who and where he is. I always thought it was the most beautiful and sad piece of writing, and I have the quote printed on my wall.

“Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”

This is what I said to Kate, you are helping us, the Prufrocks. We won’t drown when we wake up because we can be anything we want to be. We will, with her help, disturb the universe.

I’m not someone who likes talking publicly about personal stuff but in this case, I honestly believe this could be of great help to others and I feel Kate deserves recognition for what she has done for me. If any of this has struck a chord with you – you can contact Kate here – https://www.bwrt-today.com/

Written with love and respect for my friends and husband who believe in me, even when I don’t in myself.