Intoxicated By Possibility


What does that word mean to you?

To me, it means promise, positive prospects, opportunities.

But not too many years ago it had more of a negative connotation for me – having to make decisions, stick my head over the parapet, take a risk.

It has taken significant life events including Hugo’s death to help me realise I can do whatever I put my mind to. I do not need to worry about what other people think, worry that I am likely to fail (so I might as well not bother). Not to be frightened of what is in the world.

My fear was extinguished the day Hugo died. I cannot imagine a more terrifying situation. I cannot imagine a situation where I would need more courage than I had to summon that day, or indeed the day of my precious boy’s funeral.

Nothing else really compares.

(I wish my anxiety and panic could also be extinguished, but I understand it’s different and not that simple).

Since Hugo died I have done things I never would have imagined. Speaking on live radio, giving presentations to a room full of people, turning up to conferences without knowing a soul. Getting involved with a change movement with a group of random people I met online (and whom I love dearly!).

Far more confident. Not afraid to show my vulnerability. To be kind, compassionate, empathetic.

To seek opportunities, and to take advantage of them when they present myself.

Exploring my creativity, unleashing my ideas, revealing my dry sense of humour – and discovering people like it, and they don’t think I’m weird (well they might do, but in a good way, I think – hope! – and anyway, what does it matter?).

There are so many things I could do, that I can do, that I do do.

In short, I am intoxicated by possibility.

I feel there is little I cannot do, or achieve.

My dear friend Kylie recently observed that I am living for two. I loved that observation: it made me smile. Everything I do is for Hugo. It is not for my own validation or personal ambition (there is an amount of personal satisfaction of a job well done, of course: I am human) but ultimately it is for Hugo and all other babies like him and families like ours.

For most of the time since Hugo’s death, while I have been fueled by the desire make a difference in his name, his legacy, celebrating my achievements has felt uncomfortable.

I will never be comfortable with what happened, I will never not want Hugo back and would gladly hand back all the opportunities I have had in return for my son back in my arms.

But I am proud of what I have achieved, I am proud of the woman I am now.

What happened to me has not beaten me. Every day without Hugo presents challenges of some form, but they will not beat me.

I am who I am today because of Hugo, and in spite of everything that has been thrown at me.

I dwell in possibility. I am intoxicated by possibility.

I have chosen possibility: the possibilities I have to offer to the world, and the possibilities has to offer me.

I am not

12 Comments on Intoxicated By Possibility

  1. Louise Parry
    November 19, 2015 at 10:14 pm (6 years ago)

    It is indeed an intoxicating post to read and it is so inspirational to read about all the things you’ve achieved whilst grieving. You should be incredibly proud of yourself for and know that Hugo is very proud of his mummy too.

    • Leigh
      November 24, 2015 at 8:50 am (6 years ago)

      I really hope Hugo is as proud of me as I am of him xxx

  2. Sara | mumturnedmom
    November 16, 2015 at 5:11 pm (6 years ago)

    What an inspirational piece of writing. You have every reason to be proud, despite the cause, and while I know you would give anything for things to be different, achieving what you have for Hugo is amazing. I am intoxicated with possibility for you x Thank you so much for sharing with #ThePrompt x

  3. Jo Winwood
    November 15, 2015 at 12:18 pm (6 years ago)

    A powerful and thought provoking piece. You have achieved so much in Hugo’s name and should be so proud of yourself. The possibilities for more are endless and I for one look forward to seeing where you go to next.

    • Leigh
      November 15, 2015 at 9:08 pm (6 years ago)

      Thank you, Jo xxx

  4. Alice @ The Filling Glass
    November 12, 2015 at 10:24 pm (6 years ago)

    Leigh, this is so true, I have recently come to realise and accept that everything that came before in my life has shaped me into who I am now even though I don’t relish having gone through all those things. Of course Hugo will always be a missing piece from the puzzle of your life, your achievements in his name are amazing. I am glad for you that you are feeling full of possibilities and excited by them. X

  5. Mummy Tries
    November 12, 2015 at 9:43 pm (6 years ago)

    Another post full of possibility about the amazing things to come. No, you’ll never EVER stop wanting Hugo to be here, but you WILL find happiness without him. You absolutely must. Hugest hugs xxxx

    • Leigh
      November 15, 2015 at 9:11 pm (6 years ago)

      I think I’m trying to accept I deserve happiness, albeit a different kind to the one I expected to have with Hugo in my arms. Thank you, Renee xxx

  6. Amy Ransom
    November 12, 2015 at 1:55 pm (6 years ago)

    An intoxicating post. I can’t imagine the strength you need on a daily basis and I am in awe of you and women like you. Well done for drawing any positives out of such a terrifying situation. Sending love x

    • Leigh
      November 15, 2015 at 9:10 pm (6 years ago)

      That’s really kind, Amy – thank you xxx

  7. Tara
    November 12, 2015 at 12:51 pm (6 years ago)

    You’ve done yourself and Hugo proud, Leigh.

    • Leigh
      November 15, 2015 at 9:09 pm (6 years ago)

      Thank you Tara xxx


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