Rainbows

Rainbows have always fascinated me, and I think that's true for everyone. I'm yet to meet someone who doesn't stop and at least admires one when they appear.

I understand how they occur scientifically, but they still feel magical to me. I'm always in awe of their beauty, and I can't help but take a picture whenever I see one.

This particular day was one of those days. I was complaining bitterly about the rain. We'd had an awful summer in the UK, and sunny days were in short supply. We drove through the moody grey roads and approached a clearing where the ground had started to shimmer and glisten.

The sun, my old friend, had made an appearance. My daughter started shouting "mummy rainbow, mummy look rainbow" and at that moment we all smiled. We stopped to take in the rainbow and all its radiance. We stood there for a while, and I felt immense calm.

Now, you're probably wondering why all of this is relevant. What's so special about a rainbow? Who cares? We see all rainbows all the time, but for me, it was more than the rainbow; it was the soothing feeling of calmness and tranquillity—the unifying ability of its glory. For now, for me, rainbows symbolise tranquillity and unity.

I've suffered from anxiety for most of my life. I was officially diagnosed in my teens, but honestly, if I think back, I was probably an anxious child. I've spent my life learning various coping mechanisms, and for a while, they worked; various distractions, various crutches until it all came tumbling down.

Even in the early days of becoming a mum, I found my crutches. I joined a mother and baby group at the local library. I took myself out for tea every morning. I took my daily walk down the river. I thought I was doing ok.

Enter Covid-19, lockdown and the hell that was 2020, and suddenly, without my usual crutches, I went into a complete nosedive. Most days were absolute hell, but I found solace on the rare rainbow days. For now, that's progress.