When we think about the end of something, we often associate it with loss and sadness. But what if an ending was genuinely the beginning of something new and transformative? That’s exactly what we delve into on the latest episode of ‘Endings’.
I thought my guest, Manchester Chef and restauranteur Mary-Ellen McTague, would share her remarkable journey through the world of high-stakes culinary arts, the heartbreak of closing her restaurants and the end of her marriage. But no.
Mary-Ellen’s story is not just about the adrenaline-fueled rush of Michelin-star kitchens or the graft and chaos of running a business. It’s the quieter, more profound moments that come when everything you know falls apart. It’s about the strength it takes to look inward and confront the parts of ourselves we’ve long misunderstood.
When Mary-Ellen talks about her life, you can feel the intensity of her dedication to cooking. Her passion for her craft is palpable, but so is the toll it took on her life. The pandemic was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back, forcing her to face the unsustainable pace she’d been living at and the self-judgment that had been her constant companion.
A chance conversation led to a diagnosis of ADHD, which brought mixed emotions, from relief to grief; and sparked a journey of self-compassion to come to terms with all the years of being misunderstood – the ‘what ifs’ that many of us can relate to.
Mary-Ellen’s candid discussion about her struggles to manage time, the expectations of business ownership and life, and learning to forgive herself for sometimes failing, is humbling and inspiring. For so long she thought “what if I’m just a shit person?” – which worried her right up to the moment of diagnosis. And I know that feeling.
As it happened, I had just been diagnosed with ADHD on the morning I spoke to Mary-Ellen. Hearing her talk about the grief of what her life might have been like if she’d known sooner was familiar. Her questioning if she could have avoided the pain and self-judgement of everything she lost due to her ‘personal brand of chaos’, is a grief I’m navigating myself.
From neurodivergent people I work with, receiving a diagnosis later in life can be complex. It is hard enough to be given a label as a child, but adults have had decades longer for self-judgement and mistaken assumptions about why they are the way they are. They have often lived with a constant suspicion that they haven’t achieved their full potential, quietly worried that perhaps they just weren’t good enough. It is a heavy price to pay, to not have a name for your kryptonite. And I don’t underestimate the fear of social judgement or the sense of pointlessness to fight for a label after decades of coping without one. But I wonder how often the fear of getting a diagnosis is not as strong as the fear of being told there isn’t one.
I like the idea that labels are useful when they come with care instructions. That’s how I’m using mine.
I’m also enjoying understanding my superpower more, most neurodivergent people have a benefit, something we can do because, not in spite of, the way we are wired – it comes at a cost, and it can take self-care and compassion to make that cost bearable.
The impact of medication and/or specialist coaching can be revelatory for many but don’t underestimate the grief of ‘what if’. That needs to be addressed too, with more compassion, until you can integrate this new understanding of yourself.
So, this episode is in honour of anyone who has struggled through, wondering if they are ‘just a bit shit’, to discover late, but not too late, that it isn’t and never has been true. https://podfollow.com/endings
