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Welcome to my imperfect email.

What does perinatal psychiatry, time blindness and Hugh van Cuylenburg have in common?

The remarkable, Dr Edna Lekgabe.

Here to add a new word into your vocabulary (matrescence), and change your life forever.

Running late gotta go,

Bell

We'd love to hear your answer to this question. If you're in the mood to get vulnerable and share your writing, send it through.

Joining us in the academy of imperfection, Dr Edna explores the cataclysmic identity shift women undergo during motherhood, and how partners can best support them.

Exploring the impacts of mastrescence with Hugh, Ryan and Josh, Dr Edna breaks down the difference between matrescence, anxiety and depression, and why mental illness is the number one pregnancy complication.

We’re talking hormonal changes, physiological changes, sociological changes that are SO significant, you can see them in brain scans. Matrescence is messy, a developmental earthquake, and it’s not talked about nearly enough.

This episode might just break the internet (and your heart) wide open.

Ask a mother in your life about their experience with matrescence.

Take notice of whether your anxiety is impacting your behaviour. (40:46 - 47:31)

_{A little anxiety is normal in our lives, however, according to Dr Edna, if it begins to impact your behaviour (not leaving the house, no longer seeing friends, no longer driving) and is persistent, it is time to talk to a mental health professional.}

Or send them your unique signup link: {{rp_refer_url}}

I have just listened to your episode with Esther Perel. What an incredible human being. I have been wanting to send you an email for sometime and this episode brought me significant comfort. I really felt a significant shift in my own growth, in trying to make time to better understand my values, exercise more self compassion, being more vulnerable, and an effort to bring change in myself leading to change in others, which Esther particularly spoke to.

I am turning 50 this year and in celebrating this privilege have made this a year for meaningful connection with my children, my husband, my sisters, my parents, my older relatives, my friends and most importantly, myself. This has included planning fun first, making time for coffee with colleagues, weekday lunches with mum, putting dates in the diary with friends and family, and some very special travel plans. One of these was over the Easter break with 3 of my oldest school friends with 4 nights in Tasmania - unknowingly executed just as Esther prescribed. This included me saying ‘yes' to a sauna on a boat (well a barge) and jumping in the Derwent (14 degrees!!) - all on my least-favourite-things-to-do list. 

I chose this email to respond to as I too was diagnosed with burnout in September last year, and Dr Em’s insights particularly resonated. I work in public health, and have been at precipice of restructure and potential redundancy for 2 years. Almost 8 years ago I returned to full time work after 10 years, with my husband in the grips of depression. When Hugh shared his personal letter in parenting a neurodivergent child, I was right there with him, and like a number of your listeners was shouting out - it won’t always feel like this! 

We have just closed a significant chapter in our family, and I am so proud. My husband and all 3 of our children have progressively been diagnosed with ADHD; there are similarities, but we cover the full spectrum and not one is the same. My husband’s dyslexia was identified as a child with limited support, and noting the familial links, we have found the appropriate support and advocation for our middle child who also has this and dyscalculia.

We changed schools for 2 of our children to get the connection and access we needed to support their personalised learning. We are engaged in their wellbeing which has definitely ebbed and flowed, but we know the rhythm of our house, and which scaffolding to adjust when required. The ADHD medication shortage last year was particularly tough; my eldest child was doing the HSC and thankfully managed the required changes, whereas my middle child missed weeks of school. The HSC year itself was brutal, and we, alongside their school, learnt a lot about a plan on paper versus a plan in practice.

My husband has been able to get the medical support he needed, and then was able to find his way in the world. He is now a qualified peer support mentor, counsellor and ADHD coach, and has just launched his platform returning to paid employment after 7 years. My eldest has just started a nursing degree, their Ps and has found their tribe in the front row of live music events. 

I am very fortunate to have both good financial and emotional support from my parents. However, you can not 'eat your own house', so working full time provided the day to day income we needed, and gave me the space and identity I needed during this time.

As you can probably tell, I am a sharer. I am comfortable having these conversations but it is not for pity. I accept where we are, and how much we have achieved and we continue to learn when we get things wrong. I am a ‘good enough’ parent (thanks, Maggie). I still struggle to reckon with the comments though - my parents found it so hard to watch me work on top of everything at home, people who commented that it ‘wasn’t what you signed up for’, a GP who said ‘why do you stay’, and then most recently, my dad said ‘I feel sorry for you with all you have going on at home’. That one really stung and was really why I wanted to come back to Hugh’s letter, and the update he provided. We shouldn’t feel the need to defend or explain, but for us it is something to celebrate. I was floored to think that despite all the growth, I was still attracting pity and I think there is an opportunity to educate the wider circle that minimise our achievements and progress.

When it all came crashing down for me last September I needed to draw clear boundaries at work. I had a director who was constantly providing speculation and assumptions at all hours of the day to our team, and individually via messages. I had put personal challenges aside for her, as she was dealing with cancer and the loss of her father but this was at the expense of my own losses. I was recovering from a ruptured achilles, shitty parent decisions around the premature loss of a much-loved pet, our first HSC student who was overwhelmed, a need to consider an exit plan from my work, difficult family discussions with aging parents, peri-menopause, sheer exhaustion.

When I yelled at a parking attendant with my son in the car, and then came home to lie on the trampoline for 3 hours, I was pretty sure I needed proper help. I saw my GP and went on antidepressants for the first time in my life. It was like night and day.

So, the timing of this email is no accident. Six months on I feel perfectly content. I look for joy, I read (Ben Crowe currently, and took The Midnight Library on my trip to Tas), I put things in the diary and I am fitter than I have been in a very long time. Our family connects through live events - sport, music and dance, particularly post COVID - and travel, and we are all looking forward a very special trip in June/July. I walk every morning before anyone else is up to allow my thoughts to expand and settle before the day begins, and make a pot of tea.

On Sundays I listen to your podcast, and unashamedly laugh out loud, as I do my steps. I am also a big Mel Robbins fan, and I think she compliments your podcast for me, acknowledging our imperfections, and then taking the actions for change. I went to both yours, and Mel’s live shows this year - as did my husband at his request (I think he was outnumbered 100:1 at Mel’s btw!) I accept where I am and know that change is inevitable. I am clear on my values (thanks Dr Em), and currently exploring a transition in my professional life, and while my work situation is un-fun, I band together with like-minded colleagues, focusing on meaningful outcomes in my efforts and above all, value the agency I have at work to best support all of this. 

Thank you for taking the time to sit with my story. Thank you for the amazing work you do. And, thank you for giving me an opportunity to offer hope that things can and do change with the right support.

Thank you so much for sharing your reflection with us, and with all of you! Always vulnerable responsibly.

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