The Palace of Promises

Inspired by a dream, Maverick Mum Ronnie shares the impactful role of supportive women in overcoming life’s challenges.

As a teenager I used to recall my dreams in vivid technicolour almost every morning. As an adult they are few and far between…probably because, like a lot of mums, I tend to fall into bed at the end of the day like I have found my rescuer?! But last night was a humdinger.

I was an adventurer, huddled with my team in a cave, ravaged by the harrowing experiences we had already faced. (Can you tell my son is into Dungeons and Dragons at the moment?!). Then, we were approached by a cloaked Mystic and presented with one more quest…one that made the others pale into insignificance, but which would be our last – one to deliver us to the safety, security and abundance we had all been hoping for.

The quest was to find The Palace of Promises – an enchanted metropolis perched on top of a tower so tall that the palace itself was invisible to the naked eye from the ground…

And as my close friends will know…I am absolutely terrified of heights. Well, more accurately, I’m terrified of falling because, like some sort of traitor, if I look at a ledge my body is sucked towards it as though my soul is calling me home.

Despite this enormous psychological barrier, my character overcame the excruciating fear of every shifting hand hold on the wall, time and time again working through the terror, in order to reach the top. I navigated my way around all the intricate carvings of a turret, making my way on to the conical roof, gripping it tightly as the wind picked up. I edged my way around 180° of it, until finally I was next to the walkway. A walkway that led directly to The Palace of Promises. I was right there. All I needed to do was release my grip, stand up straight and step across the one-inch gap and all of my dreams would come true.

And then I realised I’d left my handbag(?!) on the other side of the turret…that I needed to go back and get it and redo this final terrifying part of the journey. ALL. OVER. AGAIN!!

And I just froze. I could not face going back to get the bag; I could not move forward onto the path for fear of what would happen if I let go. I was exhausted, terrified, and paralysed.

Suddenly, a woman in high heels and an 80s power suit stalked passed me (as they do in slightly wacky dreams), walking with grace and ease around the edge of the turret, pretending to tightrope along it, playfully leaning over and letting her fingers trail through the clouds as she picked up my bag with a flourish. I watched her having fun completing the feat that terrified me and instantly felt small, inadequate, and broken.

She waltzed back to me, dropping the bag at my feet with a look of disdain as she then delicately hopped over the tiny gap back onto the walkway and sauntered up to the palace doors.

It took every ounce of strength within me – mental, emotional and physical to let go of the turret and crawl to the walkway, to the safety of solid ground. And once I did, I collapsed, sobbing on the ground, utterly defeated and unable to reach the palace doors.

So, I don’t think it really takes Freud to work out some of the messages in that dream, right?! (Giant towers and phallic symbols aside!)

I’m not going to lie – the last 4 years since Covid struck have been incredibly tough for me and my family. It has been relentless – a never-ending conveyor belt of quests/life challenges that have had to be dealt with and completed, because there has been no other option but to carry on. But I have been left feeling utterly depleted. And the thing is, I know I am not alone.

There seems to be this dominant script that we should all be ‘back to normal’ now and able to just ‘get on with things’. But there is nothing normal about what we experienced and continue to experience the echoes of every day. I feel the collective grief heaving beneath everyday interactions everywhere, I can sense the collective wounds and it makes me want to weep.

And the thing that has carried me through? That continues to carry me through?

Women.

My wonderful, vulnerable, strong, emotional, amazing, inspiring, supportive female friends.

Whilst my husband is wonderful and supportive, there is something unique about the emotional space women can hold for one another, and the collective energy that emerges from women coming together.

Sadly, our society has often pitted us against one another, made us view each other as competition - like that 80s powersuited poster girl in my dream. But when a space is created for a collective of women to support one another, share, collaborate, and build one another up - wonders happen and the weight of the world can be lifted.

So, having recently returned to the UK after 4 years of riding a rollercoaster I couldn’t stop and was building as I was screaming…I have re-found my tribe of women who can encircle me as I lie on the floor. Who will sing and chant, help me breathe deeply, share stories of sorrow and inspiration, soothe, nurture and bolster me, and when I am ready, gently lift me back to my feet, holding the space so I can step forward along my own path.

My web of wonderful women provide me with safety, security and abundance all along my journey. I don’t have to be the hero(ine), I don’t even have to reach the palace to receive these treasures; I can just be me, wherever I am, and they are always with me.

Maverick Mums provides a supportive space to not only reconnect with nature and yourself, but also with other women – drawing upon a matriarchal strength that enables you to step into adventures into yourself and the wider world, at a pace that works for you. You don’t need to be on the floor with exhaustion or overwhelm to reach out and take a positive step for yourself; but if you have a tower to climb, you will definitely find a tribe here willing to support you whilst you do.

If you are inspired to connect with a wonderful supportive group of women, feel free to get in touch.