Chapter 12
TWELVE
Life Makeover Principle #4:
YOU are the writer of your own life story. Get a pen, turn the page, and start writing!
Cara would have been on time to the meeting had it not been for the urgent need to notify her Facebook friends of her latest predicament:
Cara Collins has her first grey hair. The warped, zigzagged little devil is sticking out the top of my head looking all stiff and important, as though it’s shouting ‘Hey world, look at me!’ No matter how much gel I use, it won’t lie flat. I look like I’ve been struck by lightning. Permanently.
‘Cara, great, you’re here! We’re just about to start.’ Liz ushered her late arrival into The Ruby Room, the red glow from the wall candles flickering softly, the eyes of The Club, watching her as she took her seat. ‘In fact, why don’t you start? Tell us what you wrote to describe your ideal day.’ Part of the group’s homework from last month was to write a description of what a day in their ideal life would look like, and to ‘think big’, without limiting their desires.
Cara scratched her head even though it wasn’t itchy, trying (unsuccessfully, most likely) to pat down the grey hair, then pulled a folded piece of paper from her jeans pocket. ‘Okay ... here goes.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I wake refreshed in the morning after eight hours of uninterrupted sleep...’ a small chuckle escaped her mouth at the impossibility, ‘and I enjoy a lazy breakfast on the deck with Pete and the kids, while my housekeeper cleans the house. We head over to a fun-fair nearby and take the kids on some rides, then we sit down to a beautiful meal at an outdoor cafe. The kids remain seated the whole time, allowing me to eat my food in one sitting!’ Smiles met Cara as she glanced up from her piece of paper. ‘After lunch, Pete drops me off at the city’s best massage therapy centre, and I lay on the table in a state of bliss for one hour – actually, make that an hour and a half! The centre’s complimentary chauffeur service drives me home, and I retreat to my purpose-built studio to work on a commissioned art piece, worth two thousand dollars. While I do this, Toby and Jacob have their afternoon nap, and Pete and Lily play a game of Monopoly for their father-daughter time. Afterwards, we all head out to throw a Frisbee around on the beach and watch the sunset. Our cherished professional babysitter arrives in the evening to take care of the kids, while Pete and I go for our weekly date night to an expensive restaurant. We stroll along the harbour hand-in-hand after dinner, before heading home to a quiet and tidy house, where we hop into bed and ...’ she glanced up again. ‘And that’s all I’m going to tell you!’
Laughter and clapping ensued, and Cara smiled briefly. This was just a dream on a piece of paper. Not reality. Things were tense between her and Pete now, ever since their anniversary argument. When they crossed paths between his shifts, their conversations were quick and to the point, only revolving around the necessary topics of the kids and house and daily schedule. There was no easy way to overcome their opposing views on the ‘situation’.
As other members of the group shared their ideal day, more laughter and clapping filled the room. All had detailed descriptions of fun-filled days, except Leanne’s, who simply wanted a day to do nothing for a change!
Miranda’s turn was last. ‘I couldn’t fit everything into one day, so I actually wrote three days worth, but I’m only going to share one of them with you.’
Thank God . Otherwise we’d be here all night, Cara thought. Actually, even with her describing ONE day we could be here all night.
Opening her diamanté encrusted notebook, with ‘Life Makeover Club’ written in swirly letters on the front cover, Miranda began reading. ‘The smell of freshly baked croissants wafting through the air wakes me from my restful slumber...’
Oh please. That’s almost as original as ‘It was a dark and stormy night’.
‘My gorgeous husband carries a tray of breakfast to me in bed, and feeds me strawberries. I later emerge from the bathroom in my size ten skirt and top, with my five-inch heels enhancing my calf muscles. My husband tells me how beautiful I look as I walk into the kitchen where my six-year-old twin daughters are eating breakfast. Mr Gorgeous heads off to work, and I drive my girls to their private school, where they happily skip off to class.’ Miranda did a little skip before continuing. ‘I arrive at my award-winning beauty salon, where Nicole Kidman, my first V.I.P. client of the day, awaits her favourite indulgence; my signature ‘Feel Fantastic Facial’. I apply the purest organic products to her face, while two members of my staff massage her feet.’
Cara rolled her eyes. Geez, and I thought having a housekeeper was a stretch of the imagination.
‘After lunch at my favourite cafe, one of my employees gives me my weekly mini facial and make-up application, before I leave to pick up my girls from school. They come running out to me, achievement awards in their hands. We go shopping to buy gorgeous clothes, then reward a hard day’s work with an ice cream treat.’ Miranda beamed. ‘We arrive home at the same time as my husband, and we cook dinner together, the girls getting their aprons on to help. When the kids are asleep after reading them their favourite stories, my man and I sit on our back verandah with a glass of red wine, admiring the panoramic ocean view, and discussing how lucky we are. We take a stroll down to the shore and dip our toes in the moonlit water, laughing together and embracing.’
‘Huh?’ Ooops, did I say that out loud? Judging by the fact that everyone’s eyes were on Cara, the answer would be ‘Yes’.
‘Did you say something, Cara?’ asked Miranda.
‘Oh, um, I just meant to say that ... you shouldn’t leave your kids alone in the house to walk on the beach.’
‘Well, our house is practically on the beach, so it’s like we’re in our backyard,’ she reassured her.
‘But still, you’d probably at least lock up first and bring your keys with you, right?’ A glare from Miranda pierced the air towards Cara. ‘Never mind.’ She waved her hand. ‘Forget I said anything. Sorry.’ What is wrong with me tonight? She normally wasn’t the type to interrupt someone and point out a safety hazard in their fantasy.
‘Carry on, Miranda,’ Liz said gently.
‘Okay, anyway, we’d then walk back up to the house hand-in-hand, unlock the door ...’ she looked purposefully at Cara, ‘...and check on the kids ...’ another look, ‘...before packing our bags for a week’s vacation in New York, and drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.’ Miranda bowed after her performance and reclaimed her seat, the group clapping at her detailed recitation.
‘Sounds wonderful, Miranda.’ Liz clasped her hands together. ‘Now, does anyone have any issues or problems they want to discuss tonight?’ Liz’s eyes met Cara’s. ‘Cara? Anything you want to talk about?’
Her heart pounded and she was about to say ‘no’, when unexpectedly, tears welled in her eyes, her mouth quivering. Maybe it was just PMS.
‘Talk to us Cara, we’re here to help.’ Liz offered her a tissue, then placed the box on the table in front of her.
‘It’s just...’ Cara dabbed at the corners of her eyes. ‘Things are difficult between me and my husband at the moment,’ sniff, ‘we went away for a nice holiday,’ sniff, ‘and had an argument and disagreement on our anniversary, of all days!’ She let out a cry.
‘What was the argument about, Cara?’ Liz prompted.
She twisted the tissue in her hands. ‘He wants to have another baby.’ Sniff.
‘I see ... and you don’t, is that right?’ asked Liz.
Cara nodded. And with a look of understanding on her face, Gina placed a comforting hand on Cara’s arm, then removed it a moment later and returned it to rest on her lap, as though she wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing .
‘I love my kids, but I feel like I’m done with the whole pregnancy and baby thing. I want to move forward and have a life of my own, as well as being a wife and mother.’ The first tissue soaked, she plucked another from the box and dabbed at her eyes again. ‘Pete and I have avoided talking further about it, mostly because I told him there wasn’t anything to talk about. I told him my decision was final.’
‘I understand,’ Liz said. ‘Do you think Pete might be feeling a sense of loss at your decision?’
Cara looked up at Liz, tears blurring her vision and the room seeming darker than usual. ‘Loss?’
‘Knowing there won’t be more children in his future.’
‘Oh, maybe. I hadn’t thought of it like that.’ Cara took a deep breath, and brushed the last tear away from her cheek with the back of her hand. ‘I guess I need to talk this over properly with Pete, about how he’s feeling, I mean.’
‘Yes, that would be a good idea. You can’t go on avoiding each other and suppressing the issue. That’s how resentment builds in a marriage. Open communication, while it sometimes results in arguments, is the only way to work through things,’ Liz advised. ‘By working through these issues, you can come out the other side with a better understanding of each other, and in many cases, a marriage can be all the stronger for it.’
‘Not in my case,’ interrupted Cass. ‘The more my husband and I talked about our issues the more we argued, and consequently the marriage broke down.’
‘I’m really sorry about what happened, Cass,’ said Liz. ‘How long have you been separated?’
‘Since just before Christmas,’ she replied.
‘It’ll take some time to get through it, but you will. And you’ve made a good start by joining the club.’ Liz placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and Cass turned her gaze towards Cara.
‘Sorry, Cara, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
Cara dabbed a tissue at her remaining tears. ‘It’s okay, I didn’t mean to be a cry-baby. I just don’t want to feel like I’m letting Pete down, but I don’t want to give in just to make him happy either,’ she said.
‘Then you need to discuss this ambiguity with him. And there’s no need to give in. In fact, that would lead to greater resentment later on. You need to be true to yourself, but because you’re in a committed relationship, you also need to take into account your partner’s feelings. Discuss each other’s goals and desires.’
‘Thanks Liz, I’ll talk to him, and sorry for ruining this meeting with my emotional outburst!’ Cara managed a weak laugh.
‘Nonsense!’ Liz flicked her hand. ‘That’s what the club is all about, discussing your concerns and goals in a supportive environment, and achieving breakthroughs that lead to a better life.’
Liz offered Cara a hug which she welcomed with gratitude. Her vision sharpened and the room brightened. Although she knew there’d be some tense discussions coming up between her and Pete, the weight of the issue had been slightly lifted, and she felt more prepared to face her husband. They’d lasted seven years; she wasn’t going to let her marriage start disintegrating now. She refused to end up single and bitter like Cass.