I WANT TO BE AN AVERAGE BITCH

It has only been a couple of days since Trump called Haiti, along with several African countries ‘shithole’ countries. What ensued was the usual Trump bashing and not surprising a flurry of lists of accomplishments from people from said ‘Shithole’ countries. My initial ‘yasssssss, tell those suckers’ was quickly replaced with a new concept, why do we have to be extraordinary to get respect. WH

I equated the feeling to black women constantly being referred to as strong and resilient and therefore feeling like we have to have tough skin by default. We don’t have to be.

January always seems to bring with it some pressure to perform and outperform. Your yearly plan must be neatly typed out and stuck on your office desk, fridge and bed. Your annual budget calculated to the last work lunch and your weight loss project strategized to the last squat rep.

Sometimes I want to rule the world and sometimes I just want to be an average bitch and guess what- on both occasions I deserve respect. It is exhausting having to carry around the anxiety of accomplishing everything all at once. Suddenly you over spend or forget to take your hair vitamins for a month and you send yourself into a frenzy of ‘I have failed miserably’.

I am all for motivating yourself and others around you to be the best version you can be; however, I am more recently more concerned about living a life that doesn’t restrict my self-worth to how much suffering I can endure or how many degrees I have or how fast I can whizz through my daily to do list.

It is wonderful to be productive, and it is just as wonderful to navigate this world at a pace that doesn’t make you feel worthless.

There is always some new project you could be working on, there’s always a better paid job, a new business venture you could dive into- but at what cost. Focus on doing the things that set your soul on fire but remember that even on your least productive day you are just as worthy.

Namaste

what my failed romantic relationships have taught me

Whilst my biggest heart breaks this year have come from platonic friendships, things on the romantic side of town haven’t been all that exciting. Failed romantic pursuits have always come with a lesson for me and I thoroughly enjoy dissecting my past relationships- albeit sometimes too obsessively.

I feel like I’m often choosing people who don’t choose me and if I’m being honest there are many times people choose me and I don’t choose them. C’est la vie.

Through heartbreak and tears and copious amounts of vegan and non-vegan chocolate, here are some things my failed romantic relationships have taught me:

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Combatting Anxiety one fried plantain at a time

From panic attacks leading to multiple visits to A&E to jumping off the tube because I can’t ‘breathe’, I find the subtler ways anxiety affects my life to be more powerful. Yesterday was World Mental Health Day and whilst there’s plethora of information out there on days like that, it can also be very triggering. Triggering because you are reminded quite heavily how devastating mental health issues can be.

I haven’t slept very well in the last few weeks. That feeling of being suffocated wakes me up at least six times a night which generally makes me anxious about bed time. I am very happy to report however that general day to day living has been much more pleasurable and I think the following have helped with feelings of anxiety:

Changing my routine

I changed my route home! Now whilst that might seem like quite a trivial thing it has made a word of difference. I’ve started taking the bus home more often. I found even things like the possibility of missing my train home quite distressing and I have a suspicion a lot of people can relate to this. Palms get sweaty, heart’s racing, will I make this train? It was getting ridiculous. View Post

THIS SHIT IS TURBULENT

Between my front door and the staircase where I hang my jackets is a window of opportunity to change my day. It’s often in those five steps to the outside world that I decide I need a wee, a different jacket, change of lip gloss and sometimes a change of attitude. I sometimes talk to myself in the mirror between the front door and staircase, sometimes psyching myself up for a date or talking myself out of going for a run.

Today’s dilemma was whether to grab a bottle of wine to take with me on my commute to work, sadly this bottle wasn’t for the purposes of turning 4pm into a mini rave session with the girls in marketing but rather as a crutch for which I would hold on to if the day got a bit too much for me. I of course felt silly after about 20 seconds of internal deliberation and thankfully left the house without it. I imagined swigging away all morning until I finally didn’t have to navigate the way I’m feeling today. For a second the thought was comforting, necessary almost.

I had a weird day yesterday. Feelings of low self-worth came bubbling right to the surface, that coupled with being completely embarrassed at work by colleague and drowning my sorrows in a big tub of popcorn afterwards, I didn’t think I could get out of bed this morning.

I’ve since then flitted between feelings of ‘hello boss lady, don’t let anyone ruin your day’ and ‘it’s a mess, the whole thing is a fucking mess’. I have a very bad headache and I’m ready to petition that all companies supply employees with an endless supply of skittles every month, because by God I must fill this void with something.

I’m hoping to feel a teeny-weeny bit better after hitting send on this post because saying how I feel out loud sometimes takes away some of that burden, frees up the tightness in my chest a little bit. Sometimes mitigates the shame, takes away the power that problem has over me.

I’m happy that I haven’t totally chosen destructive habits as a coping mechanism today and I’m also happy that I’m not content to shoulder how I feel today by myself because I have love and support around me and I will use it today. I might even drink 3 litres of water today because I’m convinced that’s where I get my super powers from. Maybe I’ll have a little cry, telling myself ‘you’ll be fine’ in between sobs. I might even make it to my spin class, because on Fridays, “we leave it all in the studio” (instructor’s words not mine, lol).

Maybe I will use yesterday and today as learning tools.

I reaffirm today that I am worthy of respect, I am important and I deserve to be spoken to with respect. I reaffirm that I am special and deserve to be treated as such. I reaffirm again as I do every day that I can weather today’s turbulence, with or without the grace expected.

This too shall pass.

Namaste

Mother dearest

This post is a complete 180 to what I had originally planned. Whilst I hadn’t set out to bash my mother I can confidently say this wasn’t originally going to be a flattering post.

I don’t know if I’ve always been drawn to particularly tumultuous relationships because of my tumultuous relationship with my mother or if it’s an excuse I’ve recently added to my list of BS psycho analysis of myself.

I love my mother dearly but we’ve had many down days, many shouting matches and such pent up resentment on both sides sometimes the only resolve has been to stay away from each other which hasn’t been hard as we live continents apart.

I’m currently en route to Barcelona by air and as always the slightest turbulence is making my stomach turn. I’m thinking about my mother today because we took many flights together when I was a little girl and I remember how safe she always made me feel. It only really just hit home how truly brave you have to be as a parent and for that I’m grateful for mother dearest. Every time a plane would do something unfamiliar I would turn to her and ask if ‘we would be okay’ and whilst I can’t quite remember what her exact responses were, I remember the feeling of calm that inevitably ensued. I felt invincible. I felt that if mummy was close nothing bad would happen.

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