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Piece 4, A/W 2023 Collection Pain, Pain, Go Away

Mr Pain

46 Left Side Street

Face of Sarah

NSW 2060

16 April 2023

Dear Pain,

Hi. How are you? I know how I am. In-pain in the membrane. That's how. You seem to be lingering around in my face like that most annoying party guest who refuses to read the signs from their host that saying goodbye is probably a very good idea. I would say your presence in my face is starting to feel like borderline stalking. It’s been years buddy. Almost six to be precise. Have you not got anywhere else to be?

I know that we have not been getting along lately. Whenever I talk to you, either in my head or out loud, I am conscious that all you probably hear is either horrifyingly offensive expletives or the sorry sounds of someone so deep in defeat, downtrodden and teary, that you just stop listening. I thought that maybe writing you a letter may help me express my feelings towards you in less intolerable or more motivating way. In a way that may see us start to live and work together better. Or even better, see us consciously uncouple.

Some might say that my torrid treatment of you is just karma. I mean, let me get a few things off my chest. You are actually a horrible no good very bad asshole. First of all, you give me absolutely no warning that you are on your way. You are excruciating. And, you always show up at the most inconvenient of times. People in my life must think I am bat shit crazy when I go from talking to them on a 10am call about our exciting plan to catch up at lunch time only to cancel on them half an hour later after your out of nowhere arrival. It’s kind of embarrassing you know. I hate letting people down.

And man, you are relentless. Just when I think I have conquered you once and for all, back you trot. All gallant and self-assured. More hardcore than before. And, every time, I sink ever so slightly back into my pity pool, begging the crushing swells to just cut me a break. If my husband ever caught sight of you, look out. That man has been more beat up by my angry lashings about your presence than Mike Tyson. I love my workmates who always, without fail, tell me to prioritise myself and take breaks but they, like me, just need their shit done and deep down I always know that.

At first, your presence made me want to get Nike’s swoosh and wrap it tightly around the neck of its infamous slogan. No Pain, Much Gain. Actually. But in all my longing for a less fragile, more robust face I can admit that I have come to deeply appreciate the parts of my body that I do have and that are working peacefully. And I have a newfound respect for all my friends and family who have chronic pain conditions and yet heroically continue to manage their lives (and the lives of those they are responsible for). Life doesn't just stop because you show up, you know?

Your long-term residency in my face has been one of the motivating forces behind my efforts to pursue a path where I could try to transform this pain, and all of the past trauma that has caused it, into some kind of beauty. To avoid living my life in the foetal position but rather transmute my pain into creative words on a page for both my own healing and hopefully also the healing of others.

I find it empowering to know that you are actually processed in my brain (and not in the tissue in my face) and I plan to use that knowledge to whine less and form a better mental relationship with you. I know I can do it. The light of hope that my mind has the power I think it does, arrives in those moments of pure joy and presence with my daughter Stella, where I somehow forget that you are there, even though you have not technically gone away at all.

But I’m ready for you to go now. Yes, Sir I am. Pain, Pain, Go Away. Please don’t come again another day. But if you do try, which I am sure is likely, then its game on mole. You will get a run for your money from my Ayurvedic herbs and rituals, my meditations, my mindset, my god sent G.P. whose motivation to kick your ass is almost greater than mine and from the community of friends, family and workmates who are rallying around me always. The most protective god damn shield a girl could build.

One day, and I know it’s coming soon, that shield will be so strong you won’t be able to penetrate it. I will remain grateful for every single lesson that you were sent to teach me and for every ounce of strength I built from having had you in my life. But I’m truly ready to say goodbye. I’m exhausted. Aren’t you?

Love Sarah xxx

PS: If you know anyone impacted by pain in their lives or you just love The Haute Quoture, please share this piece from the collection with them (or on your socials) and encourage them to SUBSCRIBE.


3 commentaires

18 avr. 2023

Thanks for always being so vulnerable and in doing so helping those around you build courage to take on their own pain. May the joy and distraction of Stella continue to be a tonic


18 avr. 2023

Amazing read Sarah S. Here's to you consciously uncoupling from Mr P xx


18 avr. 2023

Brilliant as always dear S


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