Ange Hardy is a florist who has lived in Raglan for 15 years. She is the face behind Leef Floral Design and lives with her daughter Lily. I met up with Ange in her gorgeous converted shed that she is in the middle of renovating, to chat about her journey.
What is your relationship like with your mental health?
My relationship with my mental health is really good. I feel so fortunate to be where I am now. I live in a beautiful community, I’ve got a gorgeous daughter, I’m building my forever home, I get to play with flowers! I get to bring joy and love to unexpected recipients. As you get older, life is incredibly humbling. You realise how little you need. I keep life very simple and that keeps me happy.
Is it something you consider every day?
I think because I’ve been to an incredibly dark place, I listen to my body. I don’t necessarily check in every day but when stuff is getting hard, I will stop and take a break. I check in, I listen to my mind, I listen to my body. When my body is wrecked from being here working on the house, I take a break. When I start stressing, I call a friend. I try to be in tune with myself. Living with an autistic daughter also has its own challenges. I have the patience of a saint! But it’s also very humbling because she sees the world through rose tinted glasses. She has taught me so much. She grounds me.
When you’ve been in that dark place what helped you get through?
I walked away from my marriage after 12 years and the first thing I wanted to do was run away from the world. I had always wanted to do volunteer work so I went to Nepal and it was a bit of an eat, pray, love scenario. I worked in an orphanage and I loved being with the kids.
I was doing big treks in the mountains. Unbeknownst to me, I think my adrenals were working overtime. I was a force to be reckoned with. Then I got a phone call from mum saying that my nan was really sick and if I wanted to see her I needed to come back home. To get home from Nepal, you can’t just jump on the next flight. It took me about three days and she passed away while I was in the air. I got home and we buried her, and totally unconsciously, within a couple of weeks, I was in the deepest, darkest depression. It blows me away how you can suddenly be in a place that you cannot get out of. But because of it, I am where I am now. There I was without a job, without a home, living with my parents at 37. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing with my life. I wanted to run away again. I needed to go on antidepressants, because I couldn’t even think straight. I look back on it now like a crutch for a broken leg. It got me thinking normally again. It gave me some insight and made me ask myself what I would love to do every day. I ended up studying my flowers and moving to Raglan. I’m so pleased I’ve been there to be able to have empathy and understanding for when people are in that space. As soon as I was doing my degree, I had this thing to get out of bed for every day. I fell in love with it and I fell in love with Raglan and my mental health has been great ever since! I was starting from scratch but I was also starting as just me. I had only known an ‘us’ for so long and it was my time.
You’re raising a daughter with autism. Did you struggle with any grief over the life you had imagined for her?
Totally! She’s the little girl that doesn’t get invited to the birthday party. It breaks my heart but it doesn’t break her heart. She doesn’t give a shit! She’s so content on her own. I believe they actually look at the world a lot better than we do. She was a huge surprise at 40, just when I was getting my life back on track. She was diagnosed at two and a half with Global Developmental Delay which was really frustrating because it’s a large umbrella for more than one delay. She’s 12 now and it’s only in the last year that I’ve got her autism diagnosis. But she is my little angel who was delivered to me and that’s why I’m building this house. All I want for her is her independence and she’s now got a little place next to mum when she grows up. You get what you give, you know. I’ve been given her and sure, I could grieve about it and ask why me? But it is what it is, so I don’t let it worry me.
What are some of the lessons you’ve learned?
Don’t be too proud to ask for help. It’s very easy to portray your life as wonderful because you’re too proud. There are always people there to help whether it’s a doctor, a counsellor, a mum, a best friend. Voice your feelings. Don’t bottle it up. Don’t run away from it. It’s not going to help. And if you need a crutch, don’t be too proud to reach out for it. One of my bigger lessons after being in a dark place was ‘sink or swim’. It’s a little mantra I will tell myself if I feel the walls closing in. My other mantra is ‘ease and grace and push on through’. You repeat that a few times and think, okay I can do this.
What are some of the tools in your toolbox?
Amazing family and friends are on the other end of the phone or a short drive away. My nan used to always say to me ‘hands in the earth, good for the soul’. I’ll come and play with my flowers, they really are a love language, and they give me so much. I’ll escape into another land with a really good book. I’ll have time out to myself. Or I shake it off on the dance floor. I’ll always be the old girl on the dance floor! I had quite a heavy week with my flowers so I went out on Saturday to the Yotty and danced it out. It’s so freeing for me, it’s such a release.
with Ruby Gibbs – creator of the Mental health Toolbox
This content was made possible thanks to sponsorship from SWOP RAGLAN
