Magic

I know what he smells like. I know how soft and thick his hair is. I know how smooth his skin feels on his face, and how rough when I run my fingers in the other direction. I know how fast his stubble grows, and where his bald patches are. I know how long his eye lashes are and how his deep brown eyes look when he’s excited. 

But I don’t know where he is. I don’t know who he’s with. I don’t know what he’s been doing or what’s been on his mind. I don’t know if he ever thinks of me. I don’t know if he’s aware of how I hurt, as if my chest has been hollowed out. Empty, yet heavy. I don’t know if he’s happy. I don’t know if I want him to be…

I’d give anything just to run my hands through his hair tonight; breathe him in; wrap my arms around him and slowly plant kisses across his big shoulders and down his back. I’d hold on so tight.

Why can’t he just feel the same?

I wonder if he knows I still think he’s magic. I wonder if one day I won’t.

Control

  

So it’s actually past my bed time but I’m wide awake thanks of polishing off half a tub of Ben & Jerry’s (karamel sutra), which is crazy for me. Usually that stuff is totally off limits until Friday – Sunday. Sugar rush on a Wednesday night… am I wild or what.

Anyway I’ve been suffering with tooth/head/face ache for 2 days so curling up on the sofa all alone with my ice cream and the last couple episodes of Girls to catch up on (I can’t believe the next season will be the last, I’m not ready to say goodbye) was a treat for being such a trooper while my stupid body sabotages itself.

So I’m using my wide-awake-too-much-sugar time to get some more complicated feelings off my chest… This is something I typed up a few days ago…

I had a cry. In the toilets in work… Not for long, but when I left my eyes and nose were all red. Hopefully I just looked as though I’d been sneezing? Nobody mentioned it.
I had a cry because… well, actually, I’m not sure why I cried.

You know when you get a text message you can like see the first couple lines of it without actually reading it? Well, while I was working a text from him came in. He was asking if I wanted to go to New York in Nov. Flights were ‘only’ ¬£340, we could go see the first UFC event to be held in Madison Square Gardens. I ignored it, ’cause I had to pretend to be working. Another text came in:”???” And another: “It’ll be all lit up for xmas and it’ll be so romantic and we can go ice skating and then watch people punch each other”.

I definitely didn’t cry because my boyfriend invited me to New York – Ice skating and UFC sounds perfect (except that I’m not dying to go back to NYC, I went as a teen and wasn’t enamored. Shock horror am I allowed to say that? A 20-something white girl blogger who doesn’t love NYC?! I’ll be excommunicated…)

But, regardless, the answer was no. I couldn’t even consider it. How the fuck was I supposed to pull ¬£340 out of my arse on an hours notice? Yeah – he wanted to book it RIGHT AWAY. I’m currently paying off my credit card, trying to save money to pay him for the air bnb he booked for Paris at the end of August, trying to save spending money for Paris and money to buy him a 30th bday present (he wants dinner at a restaurant that’s like ¬£300 PER PERSON). I mistakenly bought flights to London for a weekend to visit a friend, thinking I could do it on the cheap since flights are only ¬£25, little did I realise it would cost ¬£100 for a half decent hotel. His answer? ‘Just stick it on your credit card’ (he’s not the best at managing his finances). If I’m already saving for all of that other stuff how am I supposed to just stick another ¬£340 on my credit card? Knowing full well that I won’t be able to pay it off for months and months, that I’d be gaining interest on it AND worrying about it every fucking day? No. The answer was just no – can’t be done. Plain and simple.

But making sensible financial decisions is FUCKING BORING. And maybe I am too, because I am good with my money (I have so little of it I have no choice but to be!). I’ve very little on my credit card and to be honest my savings can cover it if needs be (but they’re my rainy day fund atm). The only loan I have to repay is my student loan, which, let’s face it, doesn’t really count… I’ve never had bad credit, I’ve never been in debt or owed anybody money. But I’m also constantly saying ‘I can’t, I’m skint’, which really translates as ‘I could, but there’s far more sensible things I need to spend my money on.’

Was that why I cried? Because I had to say no AGAIN to something I wanted to do? I mean, I’ve wanted to visit my pal in London for like 2 years but never had the money. Now I finally can (although I wish I’d put more planning into it and organised accommodation first…). But there’s so many other things I have to say no to – a deal for a night in a fancy hotel with a hot tub and a bottle of champers with my girlfriend cause I can’t stump up ¬£75 for one night. A few nights away with my mum, because I’m saving for Paris instead and can only afford one holiday. A night at a hotel and spa with him, just because. Lunch at a nice restaurant, just to try it. And the countless other holidays he’s tried to get me to book on a whim. Is it always saying no that made me cry?

Or is it the pressure of trying to keep up with everybody else? With my boyfriend who is inexplicably flush ALL. THE. TIME. With my girlfriend who has the same expensive taste as me but actually has the means to fund it. With all my other girlfriends with their mortgages or fancy hotel-looking apartments (if you’re reading this, you know who you are ūüėČ ). The friends who pay more bills than me and still manage to go clothes shopping and plan holidays.*

These seem like valid enough reasons to get emotional in the middle of the day at text messages I haven’t actually read yet. But that’s not why I cried.

I cried because he’s going anyway. Without me.

He’s gonna go and he’s gonna have a great time without me and he won’t miss me or wish I was there and he won’t need me and he doesn’t need me and that’s perfectly normal because a person shouldn’t need their partner but for some reason I can’t apply that rule to him and I want him to need me or want me and not go live his life without me.

I mean, I’m not even part of the decision making. I have no control whatsoever over what he does or doesn’t do, who he does it with or where he goes… We’re living two separate lives and he’s cool with that. And I’m powerless to change any of it. And that’s why I cried.

I can control how much money I spend or save. I can control how much sugar I eat throughout the week. But I can’t control my feelings, or his.

…Or grinding my teeth at night. Hence the tooth/head/face ache. Ow.
*Disclaimer – Most of these friends also worked a lot harder to get a career/get their shit together than I did. I do realise that… just sayin’, cause I know how much of a little bitch I sound!

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Stiff Upper Lip

 

So it’s been quite a while since I posted. I’m making a conscious effort to be a bit more positive and chilled out, and considering my blog posts are usually inspired by anger/frustration/misery/insert-negative-emotion-here, I thought it better not to vent publicly. Truth is, I’m still very bitter & wounded from my heartbreak (I was a moody bitch before so just imagine how cynical¬†I am now!) but I don’t want people to see me that way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not running around grinning and exuding rainbows and shitting candyfloss… I mean even if I wanted to I’d never be able to shift this bitch-face or dry sense of humour, but I just want the world to think that I’ve picked myself up and carried on. Because I kind of have… I’m not giving in to the tears or temper tantrums. When I feel it all building up, instead of completely losing my shit I’ll send a friend some rant-y texts, apologise for said rant and get an early night. I’ll try to keep myself busy the next day until the rage subsides (yes those are delirium lyrics *In this white wave, I am sinking, in this siiiiiilence* Good tune).

You guys already know how paradoxical I am. So although I totally back the whole self love ‘movement’ (is it a movement? What defines a movement? The amount of people hashtagging it?), I struggle with it on a personal level. In the same way that I’m battling my own internalized sexism in my feminist awakening, I’m tackling the self-deprecation that’s really instilled in the British & Irish. We are definitely not taught to love ourselves. It causes problems on a national scale, including a mental health crisis (because we cannot talk about our emotions no no… stiff upper lip and all that!) but also something that I’m sure deeply affects every one of us… Not having any idea how to fucking sell ourselves in a job interview.

Interviewer: And what would you consider your strengths to be?
Me: Well, I’m kind of good at this and I once did that kind of well…
Interviewer: And your weaknesses?
Me: Oh god, where do I start? I’m always late, apathetic toward my work, lazy, hate responsibility, moody, short attention span…
Interviewer: Please stop
Me: I yawn a lot, I need to eat at least every 2 hours, constantly on my phone…
Interviwer: Please
Me: I’m sarcastic, can’t do simple maths, have jealousy issues, oh and I pull sickies at least 4 times a year.
Interviewer: We’ll be in touch

We are definitely not taught to love ourselves, look after ourselves or take time for ourselves. No, because that is self-indulgent and JESUS DOESN’T¬†LIKE IT. Hell, if I had a quid for every time I’ve been called selfish… And being even slightly selfish, vain or egotistical is like one of the worst things a person can be. Better to be unhappy, unhealthy and unfulfilled than be accused of being self-centered. But fuck it. I am selfish. I love working on myself, what a fucking sin, right?

And this is exactly what I mean!¬†When faced with (or apparently even just thinking about) the kind of people who think that looking after yourself is a bad thing, or somebody who isn’t selfish enough and is miserable because of it, it’s easy for me to get on my soapbox and preach the glory of self love! Yet, I have so many days and nights where I feel absolutely worthless because of what other people (one person) thinks (or doesn’t think) of me. Like half my brain is totally tuned in and yes we love ourself and fuck everyone else ’cause we’re totally killing it!!! And the other half is asleep/stoned/paralyzed and just kind of flopping about in there like ‘what now? What are we doing? I’m just gonna go lie in this dark corner OK? You got any ice cream?’. It’s probably the side that’s supposed to do maths. Fuck maths.

But, hey, I’m trying. Like I’ve said in an early blog post, I hold out hope for my thirties, on the sage advice of my lovely mum. Maybe if I try to start loving myself now I’ll have it figured out in 5-10 years! I’ll get a few comfortable years in before I start lamenting my youth and having a mid life crisis…

You can really tell I’m trying to be more positive, right?

 
No for real though, I do think it’s working. And I do think it’s really important for everybody, in terms of your relationship with yourself and with other people. If you are totally drained you can’t give other people what they need – love, empathy, a shoulder to cry on, whatever it may be. When we don’t look after ourselves we become exhausted and uncaring, and usually feel guilty about it to boot! I want it to be socially acceptable and even encouraged for people to take a step back from their life, their drama, partner, friends, family, job, all of it, to take a breath and step back into the ring with a second wind – without carrying a tonne of guilt with them!

So. I’m trying not to be so hard on myself, trying not to be so negative & doing things that make me happy! And since my relationship has very much taken a backseat in my day-to-day life, I can say with certainty that everything I do now is for me. And that’s how I want it. That’s maybe not how it has to be for everybody, but considering the way in which I lost myself in my relationship and subsequent heartbreak, it’s what’s right for me, right now. I’m eating right (trying to), I’m working out, I’m trying new things, booking trips with friends, I’m starting a new job & eventually I want my own place. Even if things work out with him, I think it’s important for me to have my own place, at least for a while. As scary as it is to be out on my own, I want to be that girl, who can be on her own. So I’m faking it til I make it… I’m suppressing all the stress I get over things I can’t control and I’m suffocating the bastard ’til it gets the fucking point.

Bad days – I am tougher than you. Lonely nights – You’re getting the cold shoulder. Self-loathing – I will punch you in the goddamn throat.

Who knows, maybe I’ll be preaching love and peace by the time I’m thirty. Namaste, bitches.

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Toxic

  

Why do I love the things that are bad for me?

  1. Chocolate cake.
  2. Men with emotional issues that they won’t face up to.
  3. Cheap champagne.
  4. Dipping all my food into peanut butter.
  5. Instagram.

Now, I love Instagram so much that I’m reluctant to admit it may be damaging me, which may be a recurring theme in my relationships… Like a toxic lover it captivates me; it feeds me; I crave it; I adore it; I love it. Yet sometimes it leaves me leaving worthless, sad, fat and ugly… (and poor! Mostly just poor tbh).

Perhaps it isn’t the lover who does this to me, but my own raging jealousy that I attempt to fight off every day with an arsenal of self-love slogans and memories of those couple of times I did something kinda great or looked pretty bangin’. Either way – Instagram is BAD NEWS. For me and my bank account. Here are some of the inane things I have decided I need to make my life a success thanks to the pathetic-aesthetic universe of IG:

  • WHITE hair. Not light blonde, not grey… it’s gotta be white. I almost lost my mind last week and bleached it myself with a ¬£10 set from Boots. Now, considering I can’t even put my hair in a messy fucking bun, just imagine the damage I could have done. *shudder*
  • A tan. To really set off the hair, make me look more toned AND make my tattoos look cuter. Black on white, pasty skin can look a little harsh… black on a golden-toned, glowing body = sexy af.
  • Abs and crop tops. Crop tops have been around for a while now and sadly (so very sadly) do not seem to be disappearing any time soon. Time to loose a few lbs and show a little skin! (IRL though I’m fully aware that this will never happen).
  • A white house. With ALL the windows, a perfect kitchen and perfect light for ALL the photos, any time of day.
  • Perfect dishes to go in the perfect kitchen where I will take snaps of my perfectly prepared meals and smoothie bowls! (Again, not a chance – except for maybe a perfectly prepared bowl of super noodles).
  • Bralets, bralets, bralets. In every kind of lace, in every kind of style, in black, white and grey… Bras are out. ¬£70 bralets are in, in, in!
  • Selfies in which I have perfectly highlighted skin and somehow manage to not look at all vain. (How do they do it?!)
  • Unbelievably and unnecessarily stylish gym clothes. I don’t know where they come from and I don’t know how people can afford them, but they exist. And I now need them in order to have a successful workout.
  • Flexibility. If I can’t do complicated yoga poses on a beach, in my new gym gear, on an eco-friendly yoga mat, while somebody takes photos of me, then am I even living? (Who takes the photos of these girls every day? WHO?!)
  • Chic city breaks with my best gal friends where we stay in the fanciest hotels and snap pics of each other lounging about in dressing gowns eating macarons or just gazing out romantically from the balcony, as you do.
  • Sam Edelman over the knee boots. Because the rest of the world can seemingly afford them.
  • Extremely hard to come by skin care in minimalist, super-stylish packaging.
  • A shit-load of ¬£45 candles. Equally hard to come by, equally minimalist.
  • A very good camera!! To take flat lays of the candles, cosmetics, bralets and piles of jewellery I’ve somehow accumulated despite spending all my money on the above.
  • A bubble butt. Proportionate bodies are OUT.
  • Massive lips painted with PRO make-up skills, in the most unnatural colours, preferably from NYX cosmetics.
  • Bunches of white roses, or other fresh flowers, every day. Must be white, to match the house.
  • An addiction to coffee. (I’m not a fan tbh, it just makes me need to poo).
  • A pet in colours that match my house and accessories.
  • Sunglasses and a top knot. Every outfit is 10 times cooler with sunglasses and a top knot.
  • A high flying career that somehow leaves me time to workout every day, prepare perfect, clean meals, go out for cocktails, go jet-setting with friends, chill at home with candles and coffee AND take photos of everything to post on insta.

 

Just how do they do it -___-

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2015 can suck my dick

  

A tad different from the obligatory white-girl, what-I’ve-learned-from-2015-post… 

2015, you royally fucked me. Maybe I’ll thank you for it one day, but today is not that day. I am not grateful blonde… I am fucking angry.

You have been a learning curve, but you’ve taught me to be more bitter, less trusting, less sentimental… You wore me down, humiliated me often and probably aged me about 10years. But your 12 months are up – your reign of terror is over. I’m leaving your shit storm behind in miserable December and I’m gonna make January my bitch.

I’m gonna hold back my tears, hold on to my anger and punch your ghosts right in the face – do not try and haunt me. 2016 is looking to be a lonely year but I will be a spider, safe in my web, recovering in the dark and striking at each opportunity. 

You took a lot away from me, 2015, but the fresh air blowing in from the new year is already giving me clarity. One positive you’re leaving me with, however, is gratitude and appreciation for the right people and the right things. In the most cruel way you’ve brought the people  in my life together… And with the death of you comes the dissipation of my fear, abatement of my mourning and the chance to enjoy this bittersweet gift. 

I’ll thank you one day… But right now, you can suck my dick.

Yours sincerely,

The spider.

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Image via Instagram @visualpursuit

Allowances

¬†Does looking past a person’s flaws, working with them, making allowances for them make us more selfless, more worthy of that person’s love? Or does it make us a mug?¬†At what point do we¬†cross the line from caring into foolish?

My older brother and his girlfriend have just got engaged. A few months back things were a bit rocky between them. When she met my brother she had just come out of a pretty terrible relationship, the impact of which didn’t hit her until the new-romance-honeymoon-phase was over. So, understandably, trust issues she had buried started to resurface, she pushed my brother away. Things were hot and cold for a while (but never turned nasty). Anyway… you’re probably wondering why this is relevant. Now that they’re engaged and officially moving in together, she said to me that she’s just so glad that he put up with her shit (I’m sure she actually worded it much nicer than that but my memory fails me – that was the jist of it anyway). … (is jist a real word?! You guys know what I mean, right?)

SO. My brother put up with the hot and cold; he understood she was going through a hard time, working through some issues, and it paid off. She appreciates him for doing that and they’re going to live happily ever after (which is lovely but I wish they’d stop with the baby talk… Have they asked me if I’m ready to be¬†an auntie? NO! How selfish of them…).

But how long do we put up with that for? A few months? A year? 3 years? Is that love? Is that like, accepting somebody for who they are, warts ‘n all? Or do we only do this expecting the person to eventually change? And is it really so bad to want somebody to change? If we have entered into a relationship with somebody, then obviously we like them as a person, we recognise all of the good in them… but as we get to know them better, as we invest more of ourselves into the relationship, we will discover things that could use a little adjustment. I don’t think that’s so awful. As long as you don’t want to change the person’s personality… or something fundamental about who they are. I mean, there’s definitely things about myself that I’ve changed for the sake of a relationship and I’m a better person for it! We all need called out on our bullshit sometimes and often¬†we need to adjust things about ourselves in order to get along better with others. But it takes two… it takes compromise.

How long do we wait for recognition?

Are we lovers or just fools?

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Pic via Instagram @theloversanddriftersclub

How do you love?

This isn’t how I love – quietly, from a distance.

I love by waking up beside you in the middle of the night and immediately pulling you close. By running my hands over your body in appreciation of every part of you. By rubbing your feet with mine under the covers, because I know it makes you smile. By making all my best plans with you, by saving my spare time for you, by sitting peacefully beside you in the evening then staying up far too late listening to your thoughts in the darkness, always learning something new, in awe of how your mind works. I tell you about every little part of my day that you might find the smallest amusement or intrigue in. I place my entire body on top of yours and wrap myself around you, accidentally tangle you in my hair and breathe you in. I hold your hand, I eat with you, I share with you, I think of you, I endeavor to understand you. My fingers trace your tattoos, my lips trace your collar bone.

I can’t love you¬†over the phone. I can’t give you all of me in one night. What do you want me for, if it’s not my love? There is better company, more beauty, less complicated minds for you – but no deeper love. That is what I offer, why am I here if you don’t want it?
It’s not enough for me to be your Saturday night. I want to be there for it all – and you don’t have the time to let me.
How can you say you miss me then shoot me down?
How can you say you love me and go days choosing not to contact me at all?
How is this enough for you now?
All these promises of next week, next year, one day… they keep me rooted here. How long until you have the time for the way I love?

Image via Tumblr

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Defibrillator

Last time I blogged about¬†him,¬†I wrote that things were going stale between us. My birthday is coming up and to celebrate we booked a night in The Merchant (weeks ago, when things were looking a little brighter). The past couple of weeks, as our hotel-date was nearing, I was feeling really disappointed that I wasn’t actually staying there alone. All I wanted to do was lie on a giant bed, in some new lingerie, with a glass of wine, a book, WiFi, maybe have a bath and eat some chocolate. What I really¬†didn’t¬†want, was the two of us sitting on the bed together, feeling awkward and sad…

He had plans with his friends last weekend so I didn’t see him at all and didn’t text him, ’cause I’m tired of chasing him. So it was 5 whole days before he got in touch. It made me feel like shit and I was¬†dreading¬†our night in the Merchant. We had plans for Thursday night so on Wednesday I simply text him to say “Let’s try and have fun tomorrow night – things have been a bit weird the last couple of times we seen each other.”¬†My heart sank at his reply:

“I feel like we’re drifting apart tbh. We barely see each other and when we do it’s not like it was before.”

After asking for me back, was he seriously doing this to me again? I couldn’t even be angry at him, I was just disappointed in myself for letting this happen. I knew the odds were against us and I just had to try anyway. But he went on to tell¬†me that he hadn’t changed his mind about us, he’s trying to fit me in as much as he can and he finds it ‘weird’ to be affectionate as we’re not really in a relationship yet. Note the word yet – at least that’s positive I guess. He said it just doesn’t feel natural yet.

Honestly, I am¬†so¬†done trying to understand him. I don’t fucking get him, at all, one little bit. My friend and I tried to analyse the situation over tea and cake. We usually set the world to the rights when we’re together! We think we have everybody sussed! But we came up with nothing. He’s an enigma, to put it nicely. Anyway, I left things at that. I didn’t even wanna talk about it. I didn’t want him to say any more and I knew there was no conclusion to reach by discussing it. We were at an¬†impasse.¬†Neither of us had the answer.

The next day it flitted through my mind like a dream when you’re only half asleep. I’d completely forget and then it would appear again. We were to see each other that night and I was not prepared to give up my evening for an awkward encounter that makes me feel unwanted and unloved. I mean, I could’ve been at the gym feeling like a bad ass! So I had a thought… If I want affection, fun, laughs, kisses, comfort, maybe I just have to take it? Just fucking demand it. Stop¬†letting¬†him make me feel that way. As soon as I thought of it I dismissed it – why should I¬†have¬†to take it? Why should¬†I¬†have to put¬†so¬†much effort into this and let him away with just going with the flow?¬†He¬†was the one who asked¬†me¬†back – surely he should be treating me like a fucking Queen?!

But that wasn’t an option. I can’t control him. I can’t make him give me what I want; I can’t sit back and just let happiness come to me. I decided to take it. I wasn’t gonna just stand by and do nothing and let this die – I choose¬†to be the defibrillator to our relationship. I showed up on Thursday night and brought him pumpkin pie (I made a fucking pumpkin pie! #wifeymaterial) and I grabbed him and kissed him hard. I stayed upbeat and happy, I didn’t allow any awkward silences, I joked, I held his hand, I was playful. And he responded. FINALLY!¬†

Just like that, we were back to being us again. And he genuinely seemed just as thankful for it as I was. *Sidenote – I know I start far too many sentences with ‘and’ – sorry for my poor writing, that’s just how things sound in my head :/ *

So the last few days have been much better and honestly, I’m really looking forward to our night away now (but very much not¬†looking forward to turning 25).¬†It’s a huge relief! I’m glad I didn’t let my stubbornness stop me from making the effort. I wish I could understand why he didn’t do it for me (for¬†us), but at least I know if things still fizzle out, it’s not because I stood by and let them. I have plenty of flaws, but he’ll never be able to walk away from me saying that I didn’t fight for him. That’s one promise I never broke.

Anyway, I hope you all had a spooky Hallowe’en! 1st November! Let the countdown to Christmas begin :/
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