She was in year one during Covid times, which was difficult because doing things like holding hands (which was the only thing that made her feel safe) was discouraged. Despite this, teachers were putting themselves at risk to care for our kids, and in Evie’s case, they took her by her little hand anyway.
Each school morning, Evie was fearful, but she wasn’t able to articulate this. All she knew was that the closer she got to school, the shakier she became and the more she cried. It was like a ridiculously fragile tower of Jenga. If the blocks stacked the right way, drop off might be okay.
Most days, we’d walk her down to the edge of the grounds, hand her over to a teacher, and we’d get through without too much drama. But then on another day, there would be a different teacher who didn’t know our precise ritual, or we’d be late, or our usual plan had changed, and the whole tower would tumble down. It was almost impossible.
I remember Evie’s physical response to the anxiety. She shook, she felt nauseous, she became tense and she cried a lot. We tried everything to make her feel better, but nothing helped. We even talked about her having a little monster in her brain (like Fear from Inside Out) and that she just needed to shove him in the cupboard. But that was like asking her to ignore how overwhelming it all was and how much distress she felt in her body.
One day Evie’s older sister, Gracie, was determined to help. Exasperated, Gracie grabbed Evie by the shoulders, looked her in the eye and said, 'You don’t have to shove Fear in the cupboard. Just hold his hand and walk in with him!'
It is not an exaggeration to say that from that day on, Evie would scale the railing, jump into the school grounds and walk in all by herself. She was still a bit scared. But there was immense power in accepting that she felt afraid. Accepting that it was difficult but doing it anyway. Gracie’s metaphor was so wise, and it was a story that resonated with so many people who heard about it, so I had to write it down.
Publishing the book was a much longer process. I sent it out for several manuscript assessments, I worked closely with a dramaturg who used to help develop my plays and I submitted it everywhere. Finally, I received an offer from independent publisher Starfish Bay, taking over 2 years from acceptance to publication. In the meantime, I have completed a GradDip in Psychology and am keen to visit schools and use Poppy’s Monster to talk about fear and anxiety and the biology behind these emotions.
Anxiety is much easier to relate to than other mental health disorders, because ultimately, everyone has some experience of fear. I think so much of Evie’s distress came from the fact that no one could understand why it was so difficult for her, so I’m passionate about increasing awareness and understanding for others. I believe in a world where compassion (and self-compassion) and empathy are embraced.
Shelly
Higgs first entered storytelling by telling fibs as a child. It’s not clear whether her parents
believed these lies, but they were unsurprised by the career choices that
followed: actor, theatre director, playwright, dramaturg. Shelly has
entertained audiences as a giant frog, wrestled words of acclaimed playwrights,
led theatre shows across Australia, and won numerous awards for photography.
She has just completed her first feature film (in the thriller comedy genre and
very inappropriate for children) and lives in Canberra, Australia with her four
kids, husband and a menagerie of pets. She has just completed a Graduate
Diploma in Psychology, and is currently inspired to combine her understanding
of people with the power of imagination.
Get in touch with Shelly via her website or Instagram
