Beyond the Break: Reclaiming Myself on Annual Leave

Ah, annual leave—the magical time when I momentarily drop the never-ending responsibilities. Answering emails, meeting deadlines (some self-imposed), navigating questionable egos, advocating for individuals, and lobbying for bureaucratic systems that rarely meet complex support needs.

That being said, I’m not alone in my quest. I work with incredible individuals who share my values. While this job can be deeply rewarding, it can also be utterly exhausting.

Most people see annual leave as an opportunity to switch off, but I see it as a chance to switch on.

For me, it’s not just about sipping an ice-cold beer and eating my weight in Greek salad while pretending I don’t have responsibilities waiting at home. It’s a chance to pause, take a deep breath, and remember what life felt like before stress became my permanent shadow. A chance to shine light inward—to tend to the parts of myself often dimmed by other people’s demands.

Many unwind with a good book on their break, but nowadays, I prefer writing. (I know—I’m a sad bastard.) But crafting and playing with words fulfills me in ways reading never quite does.

Annual leave allows me to extend my morning ritual—where I carve out time to check in with myself. Whether journaling, meditating, or sometimes both, I make space for reflection before surrendering to my phone and the inevitable flood of emails.

Much like a world-weary tortoise retreating into its shell, I turn inward to process my thoughts, shake off lingering irritations, and recharge my emotional battery—because, let’s face it, nothing drains it faster than the relentless demands of the outside world and the people in it.

But my annual leave is also a reminder that, as much as I love my job, I am more than my work. A lot has changed for me over the years—especially the last five—but adjusting to my evolving identity has been an ongoing journey.

Behind the confident demeanor and potty mouth is someone who has battled self-doubt, low self-esteem, and feelings of unworthiness. A childhood of snide, seemingly innocent remarks from people who likely had no idea how their words shaped my view of myself.

It has taken years—decades—to embrace the most authentic version of myself and feel 99.9% comfortable in my own skin. And I credit journaling for that.

It has taken an immense amount of soul-searching and even more writing (most of which never sees the light of day). But journaling has helped unravel limiting beliefs I once held about myself. It has given me the courage to have faith in my abilities—though sometimes, it still feels like walking a tightrope. The difference now is that the rope doesn’t feel quite as high or scary, making any fall from grace easier to recover from.

Every personal and professional milestone has been followed by a period of reflection—an opportunity to process my ever-evolving identity.

• Getting my first paid job felt alien—the newfound responsibilities, the realisation that I could no longer rely on DWP to deduct rent, gas, or electricity, which meant budgeting for the first time.
• Earning my degree took months to accept. Holding my certificate at graduation felt surreal, a stark contrast to what my teachers once told me was impossible. Yet despite the achievement, the lingering feeling of unworthiness remained—I still felt I had something to prove.
• Being nominated for awards—none of which I ever felt worthy of winning. People have said, “Ah, Tracey, you must be so proud of yourself,” but even now, I struggle to think it, let alone feel it.

And now, there’s the book—currently being edited by my writing coach while I sunbathe on the beach. It has taken over five years to chronicle my father’s experience with addiction alongside my own journey through its impact. Writing it has felt like completing a PhD—only the subject matter is deeply personal.

I won’t get to call myself Dr. Tracey Ford, but I will get to call myself a writer. An author. A title my younger self could never have imagined. And yet—here I am, standing at another crossroads in my life.

Then there’s the book launch in September, looming on the horizon with a never-ending to-do list waiting for me back at home. From organising the venue and finalizing logistics to preparing promotional materials and bracing myself for the whirlwind of emotions that come with sharing such a deeply personal story.

There’s excitement, of course, but also a lingering fear—the vulnerability of putting my words out into the world and hoping they resonate, hoping they matter. Yet, despite the anxieties, I know that this book is something I had to write, and now, it’s something I have to share.

I’m not sharing this post for sympathy or validation—I stopped seeking that from others years ago. I share it because i know others are navigating similar emotional battles that the outside world cannot see—demons that have held them back from fully embracing their most authentic selves.

I’ve grown immensely, but I wouldn’t have come this far without doing the internal work—without constantly checking in with myself, reflecting, processing, and preparing for whatever comes next what ever that is but what I do know one thing for certain and that’s there will be a lot more writing.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me this far, you will never know how much your support has meant to me

Love Fordy

AKA Unapologeticwriter