Coming Back After a Year Away
After twelve months out of the industry, a Wollongong companion returns to work, and keeps a diary of the nerves, the changes, and the parts of herself she is surprised to find again.
Sunday. A year ago I stopped. Burnout, a family illness, a sense that I needed to find out whether I was doing this because I wanted to or because I'd forgotten how to do anything else. I spent the year caring for my dad, working part-time at a garden centre and, eventually, missing it. Not the money, although that too. The people. The independence. The feeling of being good at something difficult.
So tomorrow I start again. My new ads went up this morning. My phone is charged. My stomach is a washing machine.
Monday
Updated all my screening processes. Things had changed in a year: new platforms, new scams, new safety tools. I spent the morning reading, asking questions in a worker support group and rewriting my policies from scratch. It felt good, like cleaning out a cupboard.
Tuesday
First booking back. A regular from before, who'd emailed within an hour of my ads going live to say "welcome back." I was so nervous that I dropped my keys twice in the car park. And then the door opened, and he smiled, and it was like riding a bike. Easier, actually. I'm calmer now than I was a year ago, and I think he noticed.
Thursday
A new client. I noticed I was quicker to set boundaries than I used to be, and gentler about it. I think the year away taught me that I don't need to over-explain myself. "I don't offer that" is a whole sentence. He accepted it with a nod, and the booking was lovely.
Saturday
Walked along the escarpment track in the morning, looking down at the coastline and the steelworks and the blue water all the way to the horizon. I thought about Dad, who's doing much better now, and who thinks I work in hospitality. In a way I do.
What's different this time
- I work three days a week, not five.
- I take one full week off every quarter, booked in advance.
- I see a counsellor once a month, not because anything is wrong, but so nothing goes wrong quietly.
- I remember that stopping was allowed, and that coming back was a choice.
Sunday. One week in. Tired but whole. I think this time I'm doing it because I want to, and that makes all the difference.
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