The kindness of other women
Tiny acts of generosity and compassion are opening up a whole new world for me in midlife
There’s a thing I’ve noticed about other women in the last few years. Something I can honestly say is a new experience for me. It’s kindness. Generosity. Recognition. Instant connection. A willingness to reach out, with an action or a word.
A couple of years ago, when I’d been drowning under the weight of Long Covid for several months, a mutual friend suggested I speak to the writer Kate Weinberg. Kate was an early sufferer of Long Covid and had written a brilliant piece about it. I’d read it several times but been reluctant to contact her, loathe to be just another person in her inbox asking for something. And, to be honest, at that time, totally lacking the energy to do anything about it anyway. But the friend’s urging prompted me to be brave and message Kate on Instagram. Thank goodness I did. Her response was instant, offering sympathy (she knew how I felt), telling me what had eventually helped her, offering to speak on the phone. To cut a long story short, it was through her that I found my way to vitamin B12 jabs and the beginning of the long road to something resembling recovery. Apart from anything else, Kate gave me hope that there was a road at all. But this is not a piece about Long Covid, you’ll be glad to hear.
Now Kate has written a novel based on her time in The Pit (a place you’ll recognise if you’ve had Long Covid or any of those debilitating illnesses that leave you incapacitated for days with no obvious reason). She sent me a proof because she knew I’d “know”. I’ve only just started There’s Nothing Wrong With Her (out August) but I instantly felt that chime of recognition. I messaged Kate’s publicist to say so – and how much I owed Kate for throwing me a lifeline. And then Kate messaged me to thank me for my kind words. She thanked me. It was a virtuous circle of generosity that cost nothing except a few minutes. (Please try not to vomit.) And yet one I had honestly rarely experienced in my younger life.
I use this as an example, simply because it’s the most recent, having happened in the last 48 hours. But since I turned 50 (give or take) it’s just one of many.