Things I wish I’d said Vol.1

safety-pin-lips-things-i-nver-said

Things I wanted to say but never did:

  1. There are more important things in life than making sure your eyebrows are symmetrical. I’m sure the feller running late for work, or the overworked carer just finished from a night shift, or the mother juggling a lunchbox, book-bag, P.E. kit and a whiney child on the school run- have all failed to notice your wobbly brows. Relax. 
  2. Don’t think I didn’t catch that, you’re not subtle. -Responding to every person and their facial expression after they hear the age difference between my husband and I (FYI, it’s 16 years and IDGAF – he’s a GOD). We neither want nor need your approval.
  3. No I don’t like drinking and if that makes me boring, I’m fine with that. But good for you and your 6th glass of JD- crack on. I’m happy being out, with my Coke- I don’t feel sad and you don’t have to pity me or pressure me into a vodka shot. Thanks though, and good luck with your hangover.
  4. I don’t have my life figured out yet and I don’t have a 5 Year plan. Does this make me anxious? Sometimes, yes. But you’re not making it any easier by mentioning it or looking at me with “poor you” eyes.
  5. Did you forget we all went to the same school? Yes I was there, witnessing your Tango years and seeing you bully others less confident than yourself. Remember that before you look down your nose at me from the top of your ridiculously high heels.
  6. “Have you tried…? What about…? That tablet is crap…” – Yes, please tell me how you’re going to cure my chronic illness, and please list all the things I’ve already tried while I smile and nod with my mouth tight shut (I know you mean well)
  7. I am 26 years old. I know to look both ways before crossing a road, I know not to talk to strangers and I always take care (thank you Grandad, ILY). You don’t need to remind me to drive safe or eat plenty of vegetables, I have managed to live this long without (too much) mishap.
  8. I should not be labelled a hermit, shut-in, shy or introverted just because I spend all day inside, in my room, reading a book. I like spending time by myself. This is not a cue for intervention, I do not need to get out, be forced into social gatherings or be dragged on a brisk walk for fresh air. I’m fine.
  9. And whilst I’m about books- Yes, I am reading a ‘saucy’ book and it’s bloody fantastic. As my husband calls it: “Porn without Pictures.” Allow me to lend you a copy so you can remove that stick from your butt and join the rest of womankind who are also on the Fifty Shades Train (Most of us have been riding for a while, and we shouldn’t be ashamed of it anymore!)
  10. Don’t ask me to explain how I got that bruise. I don’t need a safe word. I am just clumsy. I can laugh at myself, please laugh with me- not at me!
  11. “You don’t want more than 1 baby?” As if it’s an easy thing to do?! It’s basically making a person! Unfortunately, for some women it isn’t as easy as A, B, C. Please be more considerate.
  12. Don’t pass judgement on my diet. Yes, I like chicken nuggets and smiley faces and ketchup. I know this sounds like the diet of a toddler, but I also like spinach and Brussels sprouts too. Just not as much as I loooooove cake.
  13. “It’s been a nightmare, are you sure you want kids?” Of course I’m sure, this decision wasn’t made after hearing that baby-making is super fun and motherhood is a breeze! Neither will it be swayed by an awful afternoon of tantrums and smelly nappies.
  14. “You can have mine!” Don’t say this, because next time I’ll show up at your front door with adoption papers and a bottle of fizz.
  15. It was not my intention to offend with this list. I have to right to Freedom of Speech. A fact I must remember the next time someone offends me with their ignorance, arrogance or lack of consideration.

“If you are always trying to be NORMAL you will never know how AMAZING you can be.” -Maya Angelou

 

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Single vs Plural

 

writer and her dog.jpg
A writer & her dog

I’m going to say what no feminist, or girl gang member, is supposed to say; I like being in a relationship. I love it, I love being a We, being an Us.

I feel safer around others, don’t get me wrong- I love my own space. I like sitting by myself, reading, writing (sound like such a geek!) and watching the TV I want to watch.

I read a lot of Danielle Steel novels through my adolescence, the trauma of heartbreak and the drama of finding love made a lasting imprint early in my life. I was transformed from a shy girl to a hopeless romantic within a year, as soon as the wave of hormones took me over at 13 years old.

I watch re-runs. I can watch episodes over and over until I find new bits to laugh at. I watch shows like Sex and the City, Friends and Downton Abbey. As I nervously giggle at Samantha’s sexcapades or cheer Carrie on in her fight to win Mr Big, or cringe at Chandler’s bad luck in early relationships and frown at Mary’s stand-offish, stubborn attitude – I am thankful that I am not alone, that I have found my other half, and that I’m NOT single.

I know, sacrilege! An independent woman, declaring that she needs to be in a relationship, needs to have a man next to her, am I mad?

But, now I live with a chronic illness, I have begun seeing myself as somewhat unreliable, with a fragility that I cannot control and an insecurity that sometimes gets the better of me, despite how hard I try to get a hold of myself.

 

The thing is, I can’t even remember what I used to be like before I was plagued by chronic pain and worrying if I would be ill again next month, or trying to describe and explain every single pain I feel, desperately waiting for my next Dr’s appointment.

And to imagine dating, or trying to explain why I am the way I am, to a stranger, doesn’t bear thinking about. My illness has turned me into a needy, insecure, reassurance-seeking, crying, stressy mess. A mess which my husband is legally obligated to clean up. I feel incredibly guilty that I wasn’t like this when we first met, it’s almost like I’ve lured him into false pretences, like the don’t worry I’m on the pill trap, only with less sex and more late night chemist runs. Nick is incredibly patient and understanding, and I know I married a great man.

So, while it’s awesome having ‘me time’, and that I’m irrevocably in love with my husband, I’m also close to him, like best friend close. And the fact that I can tell him everything, makes life with this bag of shit illness easier to live with. He gets it. He gets me.

If I didn’t have this best friend, I wouldn’t be living it up with my single girlfriends like the girls in Sex & the City. I’d be living at home with my parents, sharing a room with my little sister, spotty and an emotional wreck.

After just 7 words; I’ve leap-frogged back to 2004. I’m a prude, a bof & socially anxious. I have the same school friend that I have now with the same senses of humour but without the worldly knowledge we possess now.

In the words of Ace Ventura: “No, spank you very much.” My life may not be perfect right now, but it’s a damn sight better than it was back then. That’s good, right?

Progress.

 

Too beautiful not to share

I need someone

who knows struggle

as well as I do

someone

willing to hold my feet in their lap

on days it is too difficult to stand

the type of person who gives

exactly what I need

before I even know I need it

the type of lover who hears me

even when I do not speak

is the type of understanding

I demand

 

-the type of lover I need

By Rupi Kaur, milk & honey

beautiful

(byoo-tuh-fuh-l)

adjective:

1.having beauty; possessing qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc.; delighting the senses or mind:

a beautiful dress; a beautiful speech.

2.excellent of its kind:

a beautiful putt on the seventh hole or the chef served us a beautiful roast of beef.

3. wonderful; very pleasing or satisfying.

 

The word beautiful has been used throughout time to identify someone or something of excellence. In this world, beautiful has defined celebrities, fashion models, even cars.

In a simpler time, I could call a sunset “beautiful”, or describe a kind-hearted person: “he has a beautiful soul.”

In the past, I myself have attributed beauty to a woman with curves, with a clear complexion and a dazzling smile, to a woman who can walk in high heels with sophistication, who is able to have a perfect set of nails and her hair just right.

It has taken a trauma for me to realise how shallow my own point of view actually was. I apologise to women everywhere. I feel like I have been brainwashed by social media and magazines and society’s “perfect woman”. I foolishly reached for this unrealistic, ridiculous beauty. And now my eyes are open.

Over the past month or so, I have witnessed someone close to me go through such a tragic time in her life. So distressing was her pain, I struggled to know exactly what to say or what to do to help. It has been hard for me to see her struggling; growing up- we never thought we’d have to face something so difficult.

And yet, she has dealt with her pain with such grace, I am astounded at her strength. This is my close friend- my best friend- I thought I knew her completely but she has floored me. I am inspired and awed at how she has been able to manage this sad time with so much dignity. She has reached out to me, even in her time of grief and been so supportive of me. Her pain has not changed who she is. This lady is a truly beautiful person, inside and out.

What makes a woman beautiful is the way she picks herself up after falling, the way she dries her eyes and puts her make-up on. A beautiful woman is confident and loving and does not apologise for her weaknesses. She is grateful for the small things in life, and is able to smile in the rain.

Vanity and beauty do not walk hand-in-hand as I had thought. Ladies, you will never be as you are now ever again, savour this moment.  See how beautiful you are, through the eyes of someone who loves you. Love is beautiful.

I am overwhelmed with how much love I have for my husband, my partner in life. He has the power to make me feel incredibly beautiful with just a look. After surgery, I now have 8 scars on my body. These are my battle scars, proof of my pain & my own rough times. As I pulled away my dressings, seeing my wounds for the first time, I was upset at how they would look. Would my husband still want me? Will I be able to love myself?

My husband has never caused me to doubt his affection or wanting of me. He calls me beautiful. He knows that beauty is not only on the outside, it is in the kindness in her soul, what she is willing to do for her family and in the way she cares for the people around her. I dare say, we’re as in love as ever.

When you struggle in life, it forces you to count your blessings and be thankful for the people in your life. That is beautiful. Having someone that knows you inside and out, is beautiful. My scars, evidence of the war inside my body, the proof of my strength and that I was able to come out of the other side; are beautiful.

Beauty is everywhere. Do not limit it to vanity or superficial ideas. See the beauty in your life, in the people who have always been there for you. See the beauty inside yourself.

B&B

If you have read my previous blogs you will have read about my troubles with our troll-like housemate (we have nicknamed her ‘Troll’ because a) she looks like one b) she must smell bad due to numerous showers and c) she talks like one) This is chapter 2 on this issue. enjoy….

So…. at the minute it would appear that we are currently running a free B&B service here at our student house.

THE TROLL has decided it is appropriate to have people staying over within a week of each other. This, I don’t mind but they don’t contribute anything to bills and they’re having a few showers each day (cos they smell bad) and they’re cooking their own food. On top of this, she’s leaving them alone while she fucks about at uni.. charging their phones, inviting whoever they want round. Jesus..it’s not a friggin’ free for all love!! 

She’s got this seriously ignorant side to her as well…she never talks to us. Never even utters a sentence in our presence ………………………………………………………….until she fucking needs something. Like, she can’t afford to pay her bills on time, or she’s “cold” — baring in mind that she walks around in summer tops most of the time (mong).

We are now taking bookings for next week, feel free to take advantage of all the free electric gas and nice hot running water coz we dont have to pay bills at all…. im sure 5 of u in that little room is incredibly comfortable….
please call 0800 free-4-troll-friends. Pfft!

Keep you posted guys.. A xo

p.s. she also goes by the alias — “The Cretin”.. ya hear that name…run

Teething problems

It’s been a long time coming but i’ve had to organise my ranty, outraged thoughts and put them into understandable sentences.

So far, our student house has had little upsets. It was all quiet on Newington Rd, until late October.
An 18 year old girl has such little consideration for 3rd year students. She invites people over to stay for days on end, they help themselves to gas, electric, food, showers, everything — i mean.. the bills add up ya know?!

Next, some random guy turns up at gone midnight and she doesnt even understand why i’d have a problem with this!

Following this, I thought it would be constructive to have a house meeting….which turned into a 20 minute rant towards me about ‘mothering’ her……. er i dont think so!

A week later (after we thought things were all sorted) a girl turns up at our door with a suitcase. Housemate turns her ‘attitude mode’ on full and expresses that we shouldnt have to be told and we shouldnt have a problem with it. Really?!

Now…after we the incidents have occurred, it has been overheard that the reason we have a problem with all these unexpected visits is due to race. She could not be more wrong.

Surely, the next logical step would  be to inform the landlady of the problems we have been having. We have a lack of response and she just down-play our problems, like you would a child’s falling out.

And so..understandably, things are a little tense in this house but hopefully things will turn out all right in the end.

Watch this space. A xo

Spoiler alert.

Moving in with strangers is always going to be a little frightening. Especially when it’s uni life and everything’s new and exciting and you’ve got 200,000 other things milling about in your brain that you’ve picked up at Welcome Week. But, you’ve gotta learn to live and get along!

It is not a wise idea to learn how to fend for yourself when you’re in a house with others. You’ve gotta learn things like:
1. DO NOT put metal objects in the microwave.
2. ALWAYS put toilet roll in the bathroom ((to avoid the embarassing ‘call for help’ after)).
3. DO the dishes – no one likes tidying someone else’s mess.
4. BOND. You have to take the time to get to know your house/flat mates, otherwise it’s gonna be a very awkward 10 months!!

….and those are just a few! 

It is not for your house/flatmates to mother you whilst you’re still ‘finding yourself’. It’s a give and take system. You’ve all got to be there and support EACH OTHER

So…if you’re one of those people that think it’s ok to be carried along by your friends….please please get a grip of yourself and grab that little bit of maturity that’s lurking somewhere in your priorities (probably behind the vodka shots and fresher’s week). 
Don’t spoil the fun — it’s not nice. 

Happy Living

A xo