London Bridge is (not) falling down.
London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down.
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.
Please understand, I have always cared. I just cannot continuously highlight what is wrong with the world as it would seem that nothing would get done. So when news regarding the horrific attack in Manchester broke, I soaked in all the information, registered how it made me feel and moved on without so much as a mention of it on social media as I know we all had got the point.
The point of terror is exactly that, to make us afraid. To freeze us in or current position and make us question moves we would usually make without so much as a pause for breath.
Unfortunately even as a Millennial, I’ve lived through enough terror attacks to understand it’s quiet, consistent chipping away at our psyche.
My fourteen year old self watched in astonishment as those planes broke the Twin Towers, my 18 year old self remembered the panic of my father who thought I was trapped on the northern line en route to work and my 29 year old self is now a mother watching the news regarding Westminster, Manchester and now the oh so close to home London Bridge.
I was only in London Bridge last week. As many of us living on the outskirts will either use Victoria or London Bridge as the portal into the hustle and bustle. Borough Market is reserved for lazy Sunday walks, coffee and the purchasing of overpriced flowers because you know that they are going to set the tone for a beautiful week. So with all of that said, of course I know terror exists but there is something unsettling about it getting so close to home.
There is also something so disingenuous about listening to an MP, ,PM or other abbreviated power player talking about how we should ‘remain strong’ and that we ‘won’t be silenced’ this of course is true for them, escorted around in bomb proof Bentleys. I, a mother who relies heavily on public transport, the interaction and help of strangers if lost (anyone else never able to work out which way google Maps is actually sending you?) and the general need to feel as though I can move from point A-B of this city without risk of death, feels very unnerved.
This admission is not then to magnify the political reasoning behind terror attacks. Nor is it to place blame. It is simply an admission of slight defeat because I want to live. I would like breath to remain within my body and within the bodies of which those I love, until the good Lord says otherwise. And I know that is how everyone else feels. I’ve been close enough to families who have lost loved ones to murder to get a good view of how that wound never quite heals. The nights sleeps are always interrupted with the knowledge that another person chose to take the life of the person you love.
There are no positives to terror. So I’m not about to get my Baby Oprah on and encourage us to look for the silver lining in last nights attack. But I will echo a sentiment I mentioned on my insta stories a few nights ago. The time is NOW. The time to start that podcast, go freelance, leave your husband, get in the gym IS NOW. Unfortunately there are people who went out last night unaware that it would be their last out on the town, in a town they loved which usually loves them back. Instead of just keeping their families in their prayers, I think we too should work harder at answering our own. Because the fragility of life and how uncertain it can be is never more apparent than when the idea of losing said life seeps in.