Tag: amwriting

Just take the step

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People always say, ‘oh just take the first step’, ‘the first step is the hardest’, ‘it’ll be better after you take the first step’. And I’m not saying they’re wrong.

But I’m saying it’s fucking hard.

And knowing something is going to help you isn’t enough of an umph to do anything about it. Often where you are is deeply dissatisfied and sad and numb and lost and unhappy and exhausted. But it’s also known. It’s cosy and takes care of you. It’s comfortable and wraps you up in a blanket. It also closes you off from everyone. In all the most toxic ways. Your mind is so good at deceiving you. It’s debilitating.

But you don’t have to let it defeat you, whatever it is. Cos there’s no such thing as permanence in this life. And rather than allowing that concept to immobilise you, let it free you. Cos learning that life is fleeting has caused me to live with abandon. And I couldn’t go back now.

Yet even saying that, there’s plenty of things I haven’t taken the first step on because I know they’re going to be hard. And quite probably traumatic. And just sad, man. But today, after many years of knowing I need help, I asked for it.

I took the first goddamn step.

Cos I realised that I was letting it defeat me. And quite honestly, I deserve better. And shame on me for not allowing myself to believe that sooner.

I truly wouldn’t have gotten this far without my partner, my family and my friends. But at some point, it has to be down to you. Only you can make you happy. And again, knowing that isn’t a lightbulb moment. You’ll know that for a long time before you give yourself permission to pursue it.

But please pursue it.

As soon as you’re ready. You’ll know when. You’ll want it long before you’ll be ready, but don’t lose faith. It’ll happen for you. Look, it took me seven fucking years. I won’t be rushing you along any time soon. But in the meantime, I’m here for you. Should you need anything at all.

Go live your brightest life.

Sometimes – MUNA

twentytwentyfour

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Wow, another year. Well into the twenties now aren’t we? Does it make me old to still think of the twenties as 1920? Probably. But I suppose I am getting up there. I’m starting this year three months into a new personal decade. The thirties. People tell you to dread them, others say you’ll thrive. So far, predictably, they feel much like my twenties. Suppose I’m just on the cusp. Granted, if I had to choose I’d easily land on the ‘thriving’ side. What’s the point in dreading aging? Oh god so unlucky of us to have the privilege to live another day on this planet. Woe is me. I’m gonna get grey hair and wrinkles? Bring it on. I’ll celebrate them, for anyone in my life who didn’t make it that far. With such an insidiously youth obsessed society, it’s easy to forget that aging is simply a wonderful inevitability of life. To grow or change or become wiser, move slower, take less shit, wake up with a sore back. It’s all just part of the fun. A new season of life is just a new chance to continue learning about yourself. Who do you want to be today? Could be anyone. Good reason to keep living.

I suppose with that in mind, I just want to have more new experiences this year. But slowly. I’m not saying huge, terrifying moments of change or risk. I don’t know how I feel about the age old saying ‘you have to be uncomfortable to create change’. Sorry, why? It kind of gives a negative edge to comfortability, I think. Like being safe isn’t important or valiant or a fantastic way to spend a life. It comes with the hustle culture of let’s-create-as-much-burnout-as-possible! A culture where ‘wasted time’ is the most despicable concept. Like time can be wasted if it’s spent doing what you wanted in the moment. Like watching a comfort show can ever be bad. Or sleeping. Or reading a trash romance. Simply because you were compelled to do it, makes it a sublime use of time. So I’m making slow, comfortable change. What the heck is wrong with that?

And you know what? I feel so comfortable in my little life right now. I’m not too sure when I got here, I only noticed it recently perchance. And what a beautiful thing. To look at your life and smile and think ‘yeah, pretty content here’. A privilege for sure! And as always, life ebbs and flows, if you’re not there right now don’t fret. I won’t be here forever, try as I might. Life just isn’t set up that way. But putting yourself first and setting good boundaries and finding little moments of joy in the mundane is a great way to invite contentment into your life. So just start there. I don’t know if this peace I’m currently feeling with my life is causing me to voice these thoughts of slowness, or even to feel them. I just don’t feel in a rush lately. Life is fleeting, sure. It’ll be over before you know it. But whilst I’ve got it? I’m just gonna soak it up and take my time. Life is made up of small moments stitched together. It’s not just your highlight reel. One week away (or a couple if you’re fortunate) a year cannot sustain you. At least not me. I need to like my every day. I’ve lived for the weekend in the past, of course. Who hasn’t? Do I still give a sigh of relief on a Friday afternoon, no doubt. But do I also try to wake up on a Tuesday morning (aka the worst day of the week, fight me) a little before work to make a life-giving cup of coffee and read a little chapter of my book? Yeah, for sure. It makes life worth living. When you allow yourself to control the controllable and not be dragged through life. I’m not saying it’s always easy. I’m just saying it’s always worth it.

So please allow yourself some slowness this year. Some peace and quiet. A moment of thought. A heck of a lot of rest. More sleep than you think you need, cos believe me, you need it. At least a few cups of water a day, go on. And just step out into your life with a calmer mind and a more content self.

Before I leave you, I know you nosy people like tangible resolutions. Believe me, so do I haha! So what does all this look like for me? I guess I would like to leave my house as many days as possible (wfh whilst the best thing that’s ever happened to me, has greatly reduced my movement and access to forced fresh air), I’d like to try out an in-person yoga class in my local area, I’d like to find far more time to sit down at my computer and write, I’d like to minimise my reading slumps as much as possible, I’d love to try a crafts class of some sort (there’s been talks of embroidery with my sisters that I’m very keen on), I’d like to join a writing group (I have my eye on one, just biding my time haha), I’d like to make at least five new soups just cos, I’d like to pick my guitar up again and reacquaint myself, I’d like to spend much more intentionally than I have been of late (yikes), I’m becoming an auntie for the second time very soon and I just wanna smother them with love and cuddles. And I don’t know, I just want to relax, man.

Got any intentions for yourself? I hope you have a phenomenal year x

Skinny Ghost – Happy Trendy

A public shaming.

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Do you remember when I used to do blog posts that weren’t just check-ins? I’d talk about food and travel and books and music. My family, my hopes, my dreams. And now I just pop in once every nine months and go ‘hey, how are you, hope you’re good, see you soon I hope’.

And I actually hate that.

And like, not cos I don’t care how you’re doing and not cos I don’t hope you’re good. I hope that the most. Truly. But at what point does a once in a blue moon check-in swing from sincere to phony? When do my words become empty if not followed up on?

And the problem is I really miss the old posts. I enjoy writing about any topic that’s on my mind. Once I wrote about The Vaccines debut album years after its release cos I was just listening to it one day on my commute to work and thought wow, this really is so good I need to talk about it. Once I wrote a listicle of ten annoying things people do on coaches cos I was that moment on a very frustrating coach ride. Sometimes I’d write about books I’d read cos I needed to share my thoughts, sometimes I’d talk about moments from my childhood because I what to memorialise them and make sure they don’t slip away.

I used to write about life and living and now I just write about existing.

And what a damn shame that is.

The other problem is that I consider myself a writer. I’m not saying an author or an expert or a paid wordsmith. Those things don’t matter. They are not the bar to measure yourself against. If writing makes you breathe a little easier, makes you feel alive, then you are a writer. So I am a writer. But at what point does that very fundamental part of my existence eventually make me a liar? If I’m never putting pen to paper or fingers to keys then how can I in good conscience call myself a writer? And as I say, the writing thing? Big part of my identity. Not my outward image for others, that shouldn’t matter. But my own inward self. The person I tell myself I am. What about that part? And you know what? I let myself down in so many other goddamn areas of my life, I can’t let that be true here too.

Life is fleeting. So painfully, blissfully fleeting. I’m doing myself a constant disservice by saying ‘oh, tomorrow’. Soon enough tomorrow will be yesterday and we’ll be long gone. Bleak but true. And I’m just so sick of sitting on the sidelines of my own life and watching it pass me by. I’ve been doing that for too long, most of my twenties some would argue. (Ah so have we reached the crux of the post? Is this Sarah’s turning-30-in-two-weeks breakdown? I actually don’t think so.) I’ve taken stock over the last few weeks sure, I’m a chronic over thinker so that really hasn’t been hard, lol. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m actually ecstatic to say peace out to my twenties and move on. Does an arbitrary age magically change your life? Obviously not. But self-reflection is important. It’s the actions we take that change our life. Just like new year’s resolutions, they may be the kicking off point but you do all the work that comes from that. Don’t take the actual hard work and self-development away from yourself and assign it to something as bogus as a new decade.

That being said, Christ, gimme the new decade. Haha. I just think I’ve been sleepwalking for too long now but I’ve become too aware of it. I want to change, so I’ll try my best to change. To keep showing up here for you and for myself. For writing posts about vegan food in Liverpool that no one even cares about. But if it makes me happy that’s all I should care about. Anyone who reads any of my posts though, friends, loved ones or strangers. I’m genuinely so grateful. You couldn’t even fathom.

So this is a public shaming. I’m calling myself out. Hopefully it will make me more present, if not on this blog then at least in my life. But also on the blog, pinky swear.

Thank you endlessly for sticking with me, you’re the realest.

Love ya x

this is me trying – Taylor Swift (It’s Folklore season, I don’t make the rules.)

Fill your cup

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As I was drinking my iced coffee before I realised what they say is true: you simply can’t pour from an empty cup. So I finished my last swig and ordered another coffee.

I’m kidding. Well, I’m not. I did order another coffee. But I was out for lunch with my sister and I glanced at the time. Three and a half goddamn hours. Gun to my head, I thought it had been two tops. We’d just had a lot to say and had been enjoying each other’s company. What a way to idle away an afternoon. I love my siblings. If you’ve been here before, you’ll know. I can barely shut up about them, haha. I could simply just talk to them forever with no break.

Speaking with my sister today just made me feel refreshed. It filled up my cup. Sometimes you don’t even realise you’ve been running low, barely a sip left. But then you have three iced coffees and feel rejuvenated. You feel like even though life can be hard and it’s certainly not always fun, life is ultimately good. Cos of the people you get to spend it with. Cos they make you feel whole and happy and validated. Often without even realising it. But often they do, cos you’re doing the same for them. And that’s pretty magic.

So yeah, I’m sat on the train heading back home and just looking at the fading daylight out the window and feeling sentimental and I thought I’d check in. It’s May now. When did I last check in? I’m assuming January cos let’s be real.

I hope this year has been going wonderfully for you, I really do. But as always, if it hasn’t that’s okay. Life ebbs and flows and so will bad times. You won’t always feel this way, soon you’ll feel great joy and I can’t wait to see it. If you have been feeling good, yes! Love that for you and I hope this season of life lasts as long as it can. Ring every drop out of it.

But good or bad, I hope you remember to fill your cup. Whatever it may be. I’d recommend a really nice big chat with a loved one. But perhaps I’m just biased.

Peace x

True Blue – boygenius

Be gentle with yourself

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For a few years now, each January I’ve been picking myself a word of the year. Not an unheard of concept. But I’ve been enjoying it. It obviously isn’t going to fit every facet of your life cos it’s just one little word. It can’t work miracles. But I think it’s nice to have a ponder around the end of the year about what you want for yourself in the next twelve months. What do you want to achieve, sure. But for me, the word is less goal-oriented and more just a vibe. It’s how you want to treat yourself in the next year. And it’s what you want to do for yourself. It’s a matter of self-care.

This is all to say that this year I’ve chosen the word gentle.

Last year I chose ‘rest’. I’m infamous for doing too much and jerking myself around. Letting my battery drain flat almost weekly. But I feel like I really made some good strides towards slowing down in twentytwentytwo. However, I know I can do better. There’s room to improve and grow. And so ‘gentle’ it is.

I don’t often share my word with people, it’s something just for me. But I don’t know, I just kinda thought this year’s might need to be heard by some of you. That you’ve maybe been jerking yourselves around too. Running on empty and making promises you shouldn’t and commitments you can’t even fit into your schedule. Well you know what? Fuck that. F u c k  t h a t.

It’s time to rest. 

We only get one shot on this earth and it can be easy to think we need to live it like an Instagram highlight reel. But that’s not real life, we all know that by now. Real life is much slower and much less glamourous. But it’s in the smaller, quieter moments that we learn who we are. So I encourage you to find some moments of silence this year. Just be alone with yourself. See what comes up. What feelings, emotions. It might not be that deep, maybe you’ll just find a new hobby and that’s just as great. I’ve recently been doing criss cross puzzles as I listen to audiobooks. And goddamn it’s so relaxing.

So that’s one interpretation of gentle for this year. But it’s not the only one.

Humans are creatures of stress and panic and anxiousness. Maybe now more than ever. I’ve talked about it before, but how much of that could be avoided? Not all of it, of course. Much of life is out of our control and we can merely react to it. But the moments where there’s an option to let something go, step back from something or altogether turn our backs on something, maybe this year we try to be gentle with ourselves and take the plunge. Moving through life angering at every little thing we face is something I’ve definitely done before. But it’s fucking exhausting. And I don’t want to live in a world where I hate everything and everyone. So I try to find ways to make it more bearable. A super small example: I hate crowded places where there’s a lot going on. I feel overstimulated very quickly. But getting to my office from my bus stop the other side of the city centre, or even just getting my groceries or meeting a friend for coffee, requires me to venture out into the madness. So I simply put headphones on. I find (mainly, safety first) blocking off one sense helps quieten down the world a bit and I can get lost in a good story or at the moment the lyrics of Stormzy, lol. My brain focuses on that and basically autopilots me through the people. I feel much less stressed and often actively happier cos music can really just improve your day like that, can’t it? You may be thinking, what the fuck is she talking about there? I’m gonna assume you’re an extrovert then. But that’s okay, as always, your thing might not be my thing. But you know what your pressure points are so work on ridding them from your day to day.

Now those pesky uncontrollable stresses we were talking about earlier? Yeah, they’re harder.

Let’s just say it, they fucking suck. Some moments are truly sent to test us in this life. It’s not fair and it can be agonising. If you’re going through it right now, I’m sorry. I really wish you weren’t. And I hope you’re okay. And if you’re not, don’t suffer alone. Let someone help you. Your people are there for you. But if you are going through something right now, I especially want you to try and be gentle with yourself. Made plans this coming week that you really can’t face? Fucking cancel them. Can’t quite convince yourself to go for that run? Fuck it off. Just want to curl up on the couch and watch 27 Dresses and cry? Fucking do it. Some things in life are just painful. You can’t wrap a piece of shit up in a bow, you just can’t. So don’t feel the pressure to try and do that. You don’t need to be okay every second of every day. Slow it down. Be gentle. Remember that these moments are fleeting. And whilst the pain or anguish or grief or anger may never fade completely, the urgency of the moment will fade away. You will be happy again, I know it doesn’t feel it right now. But we don’t need to think about the future right now. We need to stay present in the now. Give yourself the space to feel what you need to feel. Stop trying to bury it down and pull yourself in five different directions to please others. Put yourself first. And be gentle. Make a hot chocolate, run a bath, do a jigsaw, some yoga, a nap, a frozen pizza (the tried and true), a dreary night time walk or a fort on the couch. Sit still and decide which you need tonight on this cold, rainy, miserable Sunday evening. Find one thing to make yourself smile and do it.

I hope you find moments of serenity this year, I truly do.

Love you.

Peace x

Heaven I Know – Gordi

twentytwentythree

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It’s twentytwentythree, bitches. Who’s ready for another round then?

I think the idea of denial is fascinating. Because I don’t know about you, but from my little viewpoint this world is getting rougher and bleaker every year. The world’s on fire, we’re exhausted, run down and losing the will. Yet come January I’m out here with my new year’s blinkers on acting like life’s a peach and that this new year is going to be spectacular. That’s impressive denial I’d say.

It’s interesting cos in the past I’d say that wild optimism came from the allure of possibility that a new year holds. Now? Now I think we’re all just thinking surellllly it can’t get worse. Right?

Haha. But you know what? There’s way too much fucking doom and gloom out there. And I get it, it’s warranted, I feel it. But it also drags you down. And I like my little corner of the internet to be a place where you can go for some respite. A little relax. Maybe a giggle. I want you to fill your cup. So we’re gonna blindly focus on the blind optimism. Who’s gonna stop me! Drunk on power.

So like what is there even to be excited about you might ask? It’s troubling that my advice for this year is weirdly similar to the covid years, but it fits for different reasons now. This year, focus on what you can control. There’s so much already to worry about, groceries cost fifteen grand these days. Like we cannot change that, so we can’t obsess about it. We can do the best we can and the rest will happen. It’s scary, I won’t deny you that. But I don’t want you to spend your next year as an edgy ball of stress. I want you to focus instead on what you can control. Say it with me. What. We. Can. Control.

What does that look like? Dude, I don’t know you. It could look like whatever the hell makes your soul sing. For me it’s drinking coffee. It’s listening to the rain outside whilst I read a good book. It’s watching Glass Onion. It’s going for a walk in the park with my partner and judging all the dog owners whilst not being dog owners. It’s baking a cake and torturing my sweet-toothed mate with pictures. It’s slow days on the couch. It’s trips to the theatre. It’s gabbing with my sisters. It’s going to gigs with my brother. It’s three hour phone calls with my nan. It’s building furniture for my dad. Just joking, it’s not that one but I know he’ll get a kick out of that line. Love you, Terry. It’s eating a big bag of crisps. It’s moving my body. Yoga, it’s honestly the way forward. Why am I still trying to convince you people? It’s frozen pizza, it’s always frozen pizza. It’s rearranging my bookshelves. It’s journaling and finding moments of silence. It’s starting a jigsaw with my partner and giving up after two hours cos we’re little bitches. It’s breathing fresh air. It’s staring at the night sky out my bedroom window. It’s letting the sun burn my retinas cos even my retinas are probably Vitamin D deficient. I can only assume. It’s the occasional beer but I’m trying to cut back. It’s dancing round my house like weirdo but it’s joyful. And it’s writing to you guys I hope. Every time I open a new document and sit myself down, the feelings writing gives me all come flooding back. It’s remembering that feeling so I give myself the opportunity to sit down more. It’s so many damn things. 

What tangible goals am I setting this year? This too abstract for you? Here you are, I’ll tell ya:

I am goddamn getting a driver’s license, man. I’m twentynine, it’s getting ridiculous. It needs to be done. I don’t even want or need a car. HA. I just want it for that random Sunday morning where we’ve stayed at a mate’s house and my partner is too hungover to drive us home and I’m just sat in a room in the Wirral, hugging my knees to my chest rocking side to side and staring at the wall. Pass me the keys, hun! Also I want to stop getting teased for having a green license, iykyk. 

I’m applying for my masters. Yep, it’s happening. I’ve always wanted to do one and I almost did right out of uni but life gets in the way and before you know it your twenties have passed you by and you still don’t even really know what you’re doing with your life. Will a masters fix that? Nah. But you don’t need to know what the fuck you’re doing to enjoy your life. And I enjoy my life. But I want a masters just for me. So we’re getting one. Is that a reckless use of money? Oh surely. But I’m not paying the first loan back anyway so add another!

I’m going to NYC. This is not a goal at all, it’s a flex. I’ve already bought the flights, I’m going. I just wanted to tell you all about it cos I’m ridiculously excited. Can’t wait to pretend I live in Brooklyn for a week. I’m gonna drink so much coffee it’s ungodly. Did someone say new tattoo? Happy to oblige. Bougie yoga class? I’ll be there! Statue of Liberty? Pssh who’s she?

And I reckon that’s it. I like to keep things short and sweet in my old age. I used to set so many goals (all with the best of intentions) but then just hate on myself when I inevitably failed them. But we’re not about that anymore.

Gentle is the way to go.

Be kind to yourself and move slowly. There’s really no rush. There’s no life timeline you need to be checking boxes on. All my mates are getting engaged lately or having babies or getting dogs or getting promotions. And that’s great. I’m so happy for them all, they’re living their best lives. But don’t be fooled into thinking you have to make a cookie cutter life to fit in. Hate dogs? Sound. Think babies are gross? I hear ya. Marriage is patriarchy? Preach. But love your dog more than life itself? Also sound. Think babies are adorable? I can see that. Marriage is a wonderful commitment? Okay. The beautiful thing about life is it’s a choose your own adventure game. Your own adventure. Your own. Yours. (Sorry, did you catch that? Good, just want to make sure.)

So don’t sweat it. However you’re starting your twentytwentythree is miraculous. You just even being here, existing is magic. Give yourself a fucking break. Life is not a race to the grave. It really isn’t. That’s not living, man. And you’re killing it. You really are. So whatever you want this year, I hope you get it. But I also hope you find little pockets of rest for yourself. Moments of silence. Days of reflection. Give gratitude. I’m thankful every day that you’re here, so even on days when you can’t quite believe that, I’ll believe it for you. Stick around. Please. 

I hope you have a sublime twentytwentythree. I truly do.

Where Do You Go – Day Wave

Saturday night ramblings

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Today has been a great day. Like genuine gold. And I literally worked nine hours of overtime. Make that make sense. But I don’t know, man. That’s just how I’m feeling. It’s just been a day of personal growth. Maybe a bit of long-awaited acceptance. A bit of actually listening to what my body and mind are telling me. Sitting in quiet. But also taking myself on a reading coffee date to the park.

Why today?

Couldn’t fucking tell you. But I’m not gonna say no to a gift dropped in my lap. To insult it by asking. Sometimes I think you don’t even realise you’ve been down til you have a truly sublime day. And your axis just tilts. I don’t know. I just kind of wanted to tell you. I miss you. I hope you’ve had a great day too. If not, that’s okay. We’ll try again tomorrow. And that’s pretty magic.

I know I sound drunk probably. Hasn’t shown up since an obligatory post in March and now pops up out the blue at eleven pm on a Saturday. But I’m actually stone cold sober. And I think that’s what makes this feeling so much more important.

Take care of yourselves.

Young and In Love (Sam de Jong Remix) – Ingrid Michaelson

twentytwentytwo

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The fucking audacity of this bitch to be completely non-existent for nine months and then show up with the long-standing annual new year’s post in MARCH with no explanation or excuse. The utter cheek.

Yes, hi, hello, that bitch is me.

How the heck are ya? How is twentytwentytwo treating you? I hope spectacularly. And you know what, if not, that’s okay. We’ve still got nine months to play with here. Is every year of our lives gonna be the best? Of course not. Life is not a fucking straight shot upwards forever until we die. No matter what the kid you were mildly jealous of in high school’s instagram tells you. So don’t put pressure on yourself this year. But also, by the same token. Don’t like admit defeated. I think it’s a shame when people write off a year in June cos well maybe something truly goddamn awful happened to you, or maybe you just had something kinda shit happen. I get it. Believe me, I’ve had those years. Twentyseventeen, looking at you, you bastard. But just don’t admit defeat. You can wish daily that the year will end so you can move into another. I endorse that, mainly. But I also want you to daily believe that something a little magical could happen. Maybe you find a trolly at the supermarket that still has a quid in it. Maybe your mate sends you a sickeningly wholesome instagram post about the beauty of libraries and you cry but like in a good way. Maybe you make a frozen pizza and don’t burn it, cos honestly that’s always a win. These are not big things, people. But on the day you need them they can feel like true , unbridled joy. So I hope you a handful of these days this year. Let’s not be greedy. We’ve SOMEHOW entered into yet another shocking year with covid just being the tip of the iceberg. What are we on now? About seven years of hellfire in a row? Mate, give yourself a pat on the back that you’re even here. You’ve done well to survive.

I bet at the start of this post I tricked you into thinking you were getting a succinct, proof-read, paragraphed piece. You are not. This is a word vomit of a piece if we ever saw one. Will I read it back? Probably not. I think typos are funny. Gotta keep you guys on your toes.

So what are my goals for this year? Well actually, lol, that’s actually a pretty easy one. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch. I have absolutely no fucking goals this year. For the first time in many years. I love lists and planning and goals. But alas, no! This year, your girl is focussing on one thing. And that is rest. r-e-s-t. REST.

Oh not heard of it? No, I didn’t bloody think you had.

I definitely recommend it though. Try it sometime. Get so relaxed you don’t write your new year’s post for three months. Just kidding, we all absolutely know that was laziness. But honestly. Give it a go. How? Okay, as always, start simply. Think about the things in your life that are causing you stress, panic, pressure. We can’t control absolutely all of these unfortunately. Figure out which ones you can. How many of them are you getting in your own way? How many are the result of your best but overambitious intentions? And how many can we say goodbye to?

You know I like to help you out so I’ll give you some of my own examples. I no longer shower, get dressed, brush my teeth, move from the couch, read books, interact with humans. No I’m just kidding. Although does that sounds like wfh to anyone? Just me? Okay, shh.

-So I’ve set a yearly reading goal every year for as long as I can remember and whilst it’s great encouragement, it’s more recently become a burden to me. If you’re picking up 200 page or under books so that you can hit a reading goal, it’s time for the goal to go, babe. Give me Anna Karenina or give me death.

-My workplace offers the ability to build flexi and take flexi days off. It’s amazing and I’ll never not be grateful for it. I’ve absolutely got my money’s worth. Flexi has given me more holidays than I couldn’t dreamed of. But at what cost? My workdays were becoming long, sad and unsustainable. So I’ve taken a step back. Focussing more on the occasional early finish. Working til when I want, not when I’ve scheduled I need to to hit my flexi goals.

Just a couple of little examples for you. But I can’t even tell you how much they’re given me since January. They’ve given me rest. And I can’t see me going back.

But enough about me. What are your new year’s resolutions and how are they going? Did they fall by the wayside February 1st? Two weeks into Jan? Jan 1st when you ordered that big, delicious hangover takeout? Haha. It’s okay. We’ve all been there. But I think March is actually a great time to take stock, reassess and move forward. So realllllly what I’m saying is you should be thanking me for taking so long to write this! Ohmigosh, you’re so welcome.

Okay, no even I’m sick of me now.

But glad I checked in. I’ve missed you. I hope you’re hanging in there. Will you see me again this sun orbit? Dude, we don’t make promises here.

Have a fanfuckingtastic twentytwentytwo, friend.

Peace x

Respirate – Pinegrove

why women are angry

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I’ve spent the last couple of days watching my social media explode. Watching my friends and the women I love and women I look up to express their anger, their fury. For Sarah Everard. For the hellfire systems we live in. For the constant injustices we’re forced to swallow. But also for each other. For solidarity. For sisterhood. To make sure everyone knows they are seen. And heard. They’ve all written so eloquently and openly, it’s been a balm to my own fury. But I haven’t shared any of my own words yet. I’ve been wondering what else do I have to add to the conversation? Everything I’ve read, I’ve resonated with. I’ve felt it, deeply. But I can’t do it any more articulately. Would my voice just be more repetitive noise to an already very loud situation? Did I have anything new to say?

And then I realised it.

That’s the fucking point. You don’t need a new angle, you just need to show up. With your truth and your anger and your experience. Because we’ve all experienced this bullshit. On a daily basis. Our whole goddamn lives. This is not an isolated incident. This particular case was the worst kinds of extreme and horrifically insidious. But it stems from somewhere. It all weaves up from an unshakeable belief that men feel superior in this world. Because this world was built by you and for you. And I don’t need to hear any of this shit about ‘not all men’. Give me a fucking break. Because if it’s not you, that’s fantastic. Now what are you doing everyday to be a feminist and stand up for women and call out bullshit? You’re not off the hook, far from it. You saying it’s ‘shocking’ or ‘appalling’ just isn’t going to cut it anymore. It’s not shocking, it’s our reality. You should not be shocked by this. Because it isn’t surprising. And women are being brainwashed into feeling numb to it because it’s easier, it’s a quieter life. Stay in your place. They’re not even being allowed their fucking fury. What you’ve seen the last couple of days is the women you know taking their power back. So fucking sit up and listen. Every tiny story or memory adds together to create the whole. It’s the seemingly insignificant cases that we actually need to begin with. Because it’s inherent belief systems and mentalities that we need to challenge and alter. Women are not being dramatic. They are giving you the fucking roadmap on how to change the world. But we can’t do it alone.

When I was fifteen, my mum would tell me to text her when I got to my friends house. Let me know you’re safe. I’d inevitably meet my friends, become an excited adolescent and the text would completely slip my mind. I was a kid. She was being too overprotective. I’m fine. Twenty minutes after my scheduled arrival my mum would call or text me and I’d instantly feel guilty. I’m sorry, I’m safe, I forgot, I’ll see you later. But the actual problem there is that mothers don’t feel safe letting their daughters do a ten minute walk in a quiet suburb to their friends house in broad fucking daylight. And that’s just day one of being a woman. Grab a pen, kid, here’s your crash course:

Don’t drink too much it’s sloppy. Don’t drink too little you’ll be a prude. Don’t wear that short skirt, slut. Don’t wear boys clothes, lesbian whore. Don’t talk to strangers it leads them on. Don’t ignore people you look stuck up. Don’t walk home in the dark. Don’t walk home in the day. Don’t walk home through parks. Don’t run through parks. Oh but don’t get in a taxi. Don’t get a late bus alone. Don’t be alone. Don’t be in heels. Don’t be in trainers. Don’t smile. Don’t speak. Don’t think. Don’t breathe.

It’s a goddamn minefield.

Your shock is not welcome here. And neither is your intentional ignorance. These experiences that women are telling you about are not shocking. They’re the tip of the fucking iceberg. And your shock won’t help the Everard family. But your actions will help women everywhere.

And I’m just furious. This was a stream of consciousness post and I’m not wanting to make it pretty. This is how I feel. I’m sorry if it alienates you or you find it harsh but idgaf. I’m sick and tired of feeling exhausted. I’m tired of explaining things to people. I’m bored of you not understanding the lived experience of women when we tell you about it all goddamn day. And this is me speaking as a privileged cishet white woman. I can’t even imagine the added struggles and fears of my trans sisters, my sisters of colour, my sisters with disabilities. But I can put in the work to listen and change my behaviour. And so can you. We shouldn’t need to be your daughters, sisters, mothers, girlfriends for you to care. You need to call out your male friends every day. Whenever they say anything problematic. Because it’s all insidiously linked together. Oh what, you don’t want to be seen as a killjoy? Can’t take a joke? Too sensitive? Well, quite honestly, get over yourself. You would never make it as a woman with skin that thin. Realise that this is not about you, but it is up to you to change sexism in any tiny way you can. If you can post an IWD picture of your mum and sister the other day but you can’t call yourself a feminist then think about why. What are you fucking scared of? Cos unfortunately we can’t do it without you. Why do you think nothing changes? Because we police girls instead of educating boys. So let’s do some fucking educating.

Peace.

Pussy Whipped – Bikini Kill (Yes, I’m putting an entire album today. Go listen to this excellent, angry riot grrrl shouting if you need to blow off some steam. And women, please take care of yourselves. If you feel helpless or hopeless, I get it. I feel it too. But we don’t give up. That’s not who we are. You are magic.)

On Feeling Good

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I think I like to write blog posts when I’m feeling good. And hopeful. And optimistic. That’s not to say that for the long, lonely months I leave you blog-less that I’m feeling bad. Not at all. But it’s more like those days where you wake up and just know it’s gonna be a good day. You know the ones I mean? And it’s not because you necessarily think the world is magic or that you believe there’s a higher power who’s gonna make your day good. But there’s an unexplainable feeling (hell, maybe there’s an explicit reason and those are great days too) and then you actively choose to have a good day. The feeling is just a suggestion, it’s up to you to seize it. There’s just a vibrating hum in your bones or you can’t stop smiling whilst you’re brushing your teeth for some reason or you feel the sunshine hit your retinas the second you leave your door. One of those days. And today is one of those days for me. So, hello, hi. How’s it going? What’s new with you?

It’s actually a really dreary day here in Liverpool today. (For me it was the uncontrollable teeth brushing smiling today, not the burning of the retinas.) But it’s fucking Friday so I’m feeling fantastic. I’ve been doing a lot of Saturday overtime recently cos money, but tomorrow I’m free and that honestly feels glorious! I’m going to sleep in and then I’m going to drown myself in coffee, how every good day begins. Perhaps next I’ll move my body in the form of yoga. I’ll get my pops involved, because he loves Adriene almost as much as I do. When you’re having a lazy morning, there just has to be scrambled tofu involved. Like it’s the law, I don’t know what to tell you. Shout out to my sister for the greatest recipe ever. Then maybe, weather permitting, I’ll go for a walk on the beach with my boyfriend. Yes, I feel unbelievably thankful and grateful to live on the coast. There’s just something about the ocean waves, man. From there, the world is really my oyster. Lockdown ain’t gonna stop me enjoying my life. We just adjust and find new ways to feel good. Maybe I’ll while away the afternoon reading. Maybe I’ll binge The Walking Dead, although we’re going for a chill vibe so maybe I’ll skip that hellfire til Monday. Perhaps I’ll watch a movie, Moxie, new to Netflix, looks like an excellent gen z feminist good time. Suppose I may do some baking. Or order a pizza. Or drink wine with my favourite person. Or hangout with some of my other favourite people via our camera phones. I know I sounded like a boomer there, but I’m in too good a mood to edit it. So just accept it, it’s all good. The possibilities are quite literally endless. So don’t forget that. If lockdown is getting you down, hun, I get it. It has sucked. This last year has been unlivable. But you know what? We’re fucking getting through it. We’re pushing through. We’re surviving. The end is in sight, I believe it. You gotta keep the faith. Life will resume. And you’ll savour it, and take it slower. You’ll eat out more and meet friends more, frequent pubs more, watch more movies in the cinema, hell, you might even go to a spin class. Cos it’s gonna feel like a new lease on life. And that’s cos it is. So there’s a lot to look forward to. But don’t rush it. We can’t have that right now, so instead of sending yourself mad, just focus on what you can control. And that is this weekend. And taking care of yourself. And feeling good. So what the heck are you doing this weekend? Whatever it is, I hope it’s a good one. I hope you feel good. I hope you take it slow and take care of yourself. Be kind to yourself. Allow yourself time to rest. Relax. Breathe. And for all my weekend-working kids out there, I see you, just apply this to your next off day instead!

Have you ever noticed how I can write a whole blog post without really saying anything? Yeah, that’s kind of my brand. It’s an art form. No, I’m kidding. But I suppose I just write this blog in hopes that one single person won’t feel so lonely. Sometimes that person is me. But sometimes it’s you, and I’m glad I can be here for you. Just as you are here for me.

Your shot challenge is to take one every time I said the words good/feeling good/good day. But no driving after that, so plan accordingly.

Wasting Time – CASTLEBEAT