I am me.  And she is alright. 

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When I was in my first two or three years of high school, I used to come home from school, crying, hating my pizza pimple face and orange mop hair. My dad, not used to dealing with teenage girl drama, was at a loss as to how to comfort me.
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He told me while I may not be beautiful, it really didn’t matter. The difference between me and the popular girls, wasn’t the designer shoes or backpacks. It wasn’t the fact they had grown up with the same friends for the past 13 years, or that they had better skin and nicer hair.

The difference was confidence.
They were confident in themselves and that was really what I was jealous of.

While I spent all this time trying to be a replica of these popular girls, forcing my dad to spend the last few dollars he had on the coolest school shoes and Dolly magazine to fit in, I was failing to create happiness.  In fact, I have very few memories of my first years in high school because I spent most of my time trying to be “good enough”, trying to be cooler, trying to fit in instead of focussing on what I did have, who I had in my life and making some incredible memories there and then.

In the end of Grade 10 or so I found my confidence and all of a sudden my world changed. I loved every moment of my last two years of school and spent little time comparing myself to others, received the second highest score in the school and left with some amazing memories and great friends.  In fact, one of the popular girls who I previously envied, asked me to write a statement for her School Captain nomination, to support her.  I left feeling on top of the world and as confident as ever.

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The end.

I wish. See while 13 year old me was busy comparing herself to those around her, those who seemed happier and seemed to have it together, she failed to realise it was her comparisons and assumptions alone that were making her life hell. 

You would think that once you learn a big life lesson, such as happiness comes from confidence in oneself, that it automatically sticks for the rest of your life. But unfortunately it doesn’t – or atleast not easily or automatically.

When we become adults, it’s a whole new terrain – and this changes depending on where you live, who you hang out with and who you look up to.

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18 Years Old

18 year old me wanted to be the illusive, misunderstood and complex emo girl. I died my hair black, got a fringe, wore blue contacts and hung out at underground screamo bars, pretending to like the scene.  I never felt like I fit in, but my housemates were into it and for fear of being left out – I tried my best to play the part.  I even created a fake ID, got busted, lied to my dad about it when I was almost summoned to court – and learnt the hard way that sometimes fitting in at whatever cost, is not worth it.  I soon moved out of the house and made different friends.

21-me

My 21st – The Tan, The Hair..

Fast forward to 21 year old me. I had to be the party girl with a high paying job with an endless supply of fun, alcohol and men. I worked full time while most of my friends were still at uni, I studied law part time and spent any free time I had partying, chauffering friends around or falling in and out of love with boys and men who treated me poorly, trying to figure out why no one loved me.

I am 26 years old (going on 27 – ancient I know) and now I feel so in need of having my “shit sorted”. I need to have a stable career, a family, fiancée or husband, the best degree and endless energy to do yoga at 6am and drink champagne by 6pm.

 

Guess what? It’s fucking exhausting. The reality is, no one is putting the pressure on ourselves to be better than we are, more so than ourselves.

Image result for nothing screws us up more like the opinion of whoThe idea of who we are meant to be by a certain age, or what we are meant to have, what car we should drive, what size we should be, how many social media followers we should have, what length our hair should be, our marital or womb status… These are not things that justify our worth. They do not make us more or less worthy of self love or self appreciation.

While these ideals can assist us in driving us towards perhaps who we would like to be or what we would like to achieve, it doesn’t matter that we are not there yet or not the perfect person.  So much energy is spent on comparing ourselves or degrading ourselves, that we forget to celebrate the achievements and live in the here and now.  To appreciate what we have exactly as it is.

I just read Jesinta Campbells new book, and something that stood out to me is the mind frame for exercise.  The majority of people focus on the ‘end result’.  They focus on the weight loss, that they fail to focus on how exercising makes them feel – the endorphins released and the freedom and happiness it brings.  This is why so many people fail to keep the weight off because they think once they reach the destination, that’s it – rather than focussing on the journey and acknowledging what they feel or experience in the time being.

So instead of constantly feeling as though I need to be better – get better grades, get engaged, get a house, get a 6 digit salary, visit Paris and The Maldives while becoming a size 6 and driving a Mercedes…. I am going to say fuck it.

I need to take a step back, enjoy the journey and embrace the here and now.
I am confident in myself.
I am good enough for me right now.

My worth is not defined by what I have… It is defined by my heart, my intentions, my moral and my soul.

Starting today, it is time I learnt to get my confidence back.

To smile again and to enjoy life just as it is; all expectations aside.
I am me.  And that is all I need to be right now.
I am me.  And she is alright.

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I Got That Going For Me, Which Is Nice

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oh hey.. it’s 1am and I can’t sleep
I’m craving a peanut butter and honey sandwich so fricken bad right now, I’d give pregnant crack whores a run for their money ..

So i was laying in bed, thinking about how I should get up and make this sandwich as it might in fact make me fall asleep, and then I began thinking about how many calories might be in that sandwich which wasn’t brought on by the fact that I had just finished sighing over Emily Ratjkowski’s hotness …

Yes... She Is THAT chick from THAT film clip..

Yes… She Is THAT chick from THAT film clip..

you know, and the reason that I was looking at her Facebook page was because a crush I’ve had for over 10 years just happened to like it..

Seriously life has been made much worse since the invention of Facebook.

I know exactly what kind of girl my crush likes – and screw me.. but I do not have the time or money to waste on lip fillers or breast implants let alone going to a GYM… i mean .. who does that shit?

ok.. people who care.. .. and that’s just not me…

See i’m on this spiral at the moment, where life is handing me a shit load of lemons and I ain’t got no pastry and sugar to make me some sweet lemon tarts..

In fact, I actually have like cuts all over my metaphorical lemon loaded body, so it’s stinging even more than it should.

Oh? you thought this blog was going to be motivating and up lifting and inspiring… well guess what… SCREW YOU SOCIETY! I DON’T HAVE TO BE HAPPY AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!

On another note, I should quickly mention that I am aimlessly failing at my 100 days of happy challenge.. just putting it out there.. it is FUCKING HARD TO BE HAPPY 100 DAYS IN A ROW WHEN YOU ARE BEING PEGGED BY WATERMELON SIZED LEMONS !!

Ok, so where did this begin?

Well let see.. I got my heart broken (shutup .. I know I said I was fine, but after two months of bawlling my eyes out every time I get drunk.. I think I have accepted that I am just NOT over it just yet…), I got sick…and… well that’s about it… So I mean in the realm of possibilities and worldwide catastrophes, my life is NOT THAT BAD… but let me explain to you, why it actually in fact is.

 

1. I Got My Heart Broken
So a couple of months ago, literally just after it happened, I wrote about how fucking optimistic I was at what the future would hold, how I knew he was making a mistake, how blissfully happy I was to  be single.

What we call that, children, is positive re-inforcement or .. that other set of words that my brain fails to remember just when I need it but will remind me while I’m in the middle of taking a shit at 6pm the next night… (thanks Dick Brain!).  Point is, I kept trying to be happy, I kept forcing myself to be happy and social and date and move on and the truth was, I just wasn’t ready to.   After spending many a night calling my best friend in tears, asking WHY? Why can’t I be overly attracted and head over heels in love with the smart, sexy, Greek God, guitar playing, engineer who is ready to settle down? Why am I not getting butterflies? What the F is wrong with me when he is literally EVERYTHING i want in a guy, and yet I’m still in love with a guy who could barely count to ten… (ok that’s a bit harsh.. )

Her answer, ‘You’re not ready to move on’.

I am stubborn.. and hate being told to be patient or any other ‘let yourself heal’ bullshit, so told this wise and  mythical love goddess – “YOU ARE IN FACT WRONG! I WILL PROVE IT TO YOU BY SLEEPING WITH THIS GUY”.. and then crying all the way home on the phone to you for an hour… and then having major sexual withdrawals and body image issues ever since…

So thanks for that dick brain… that was an awesome move… Now.. If I can stop having erotic dreams about Greek Gods, that’d be fantastic too..

2. I Became Best Friends With A Dry Cab Sauv
Then! I decide to get drunk, ALOT .. .and not only try and call every single one, bar the last, of my exes for some kind of ‘explanation’ as to why I am so unlovable, but quite willingly put myself out there again to be used and abused by the same terrible exes…

Another phone call with the best friend went along the lines of,

“But what if I was wrong? What if he is THE ONE and maybe we needed to break up and spend time apart so that we could grow as people… and now.. it’s the right time and we are ready to settle down..?”
Wise and mythical love goddess returned with, “Bek… he didn’t make you cum in 6 months.. he still has no job.. he still thinks naming a child after a Lord of The Rings Character is a good idea… he is NOT THE ONE”…

(in case any of my exes/exes friends read this – this is not just one guy – this is actually based on a couple of guys and some exaggerated traits for the purpose of getting a point across to an intoxicated female).

Ok – point taken, next stop LESBO-VILLE!
I don’t know when, why or how – but my tinder is suddenly full of really not attractive lesbians … and vagina pics…
I don’t know why I always reach this conclusion, but by the third or fourth drunk break down it is as if I decide there is no way in hell I could ever date another man, so I might as well plow the carpet…or munch the rug…
Which, never lasts past ‘hello’ or a drunken pash, but some part of my subconscious is clearly lesbian and it always comes out at the worst of times and ends up with me kissing the wrong girls.

My dear friend Cab Sauv and I had a very eventful night… I attended a friends hens night (who happens to be marrying one of the exes best friends.. ok so like that’s how we met – but I’m totally claiming her in the divorce…) and oh HELLO exes other ex gf is there too (which I kinda expected) but then there also seems to be NO ONE LEFT IN MACKAY WHO DOES NOT KNOW HIM which is fucking awesome…

I spent the whole night questionning what the other ex was thinking of me (hey because you know, he fell in love with her and told me he could never fall in love with me); then crying because I realised how wonderful, lovely, cool, calm, collected, sober and lady like she was – while I’m sucking on a plastic penis. Then I spent the remaining parts of the night being told how much of a douche bag he was, how lucky I am to be single, how miserable he will be rah rah rah…. all the usual bull shit, people tell you to hope that you will move on and be fine… but really just ends up with you questioning why you dated someone who was clearly too messed up in the head to realise a good thing when they had it…

The next part is the best part… after consuming too much alcohol, spending money on pokies in spite of him (he loved them and I HATE THEM) and then deciding I in fact want to smoke, I run into him…

I'm so Pretty ... Oh So Pretty.. I'm So Pretty and Wity and ...

I’m so Pretty … Oh So Pretty.. I’m So Pretty and Wity and …

I don’t really remember much after that apart from pushing a plastic penis in the groom-to-be’s face and asking him if he liked it in and around his mouth, and then basically making out with every single girl in sight… yep… I even somehow met up with my Greek Guitar playing God, and somehow still decided it was better to make out with chicks? In turn, I caused a lot of pain and hurt to someone who I care about alot and felt very fucking stupid .. so I decided to walk home.

when I say home, I mean like 3ks down the road…

that was only because I couldn’t find a taxi driver who would take me home because I was too drunk and they were scared I was going to vomit…

I finally found a taxi driver to take me home, and on the way back to my house, contemplated asking him for his hand in marriage… He was from Punjab… his parents are putting pressure on him to get married.. I was horny and love sick..

Don’t worry – I’m still single… and still horny..

After waking up the next day and realising how bad I had behaved, I went to find my car keys and ALAS they have escaped me.  My only pair of car keys are no where to be found… and I therefore have to get my car towed, $400 + new keys cut $550 .. so it is safe to say that is the MOST EXPENSIVE HENS NIGHT I HAVE EVER BEEN TO! both in my dignity and … cash..

3. I Got Sick… Not Fully Sick..

So … Tuesday morning rolls around… I’m awake at 3am…
Worst stomach pains EVER… like … not even a kiss better from Gerard Butler would fix this shit.

Go to work anyway, cos I’m hardcore like that…

Comes to about 2pm .. pain is excruciating… go to doctors..
‘Are you pregnant?’

My first thought is “I got laid and didn’t even remember/enjoy it??!?”
My second thought is “Oh… that’s right… I ended up shutting that out of my memory because I’ve never had someone laugh at me during sex… Ever… Let alone three times…”
My third thought is “what did the doctor ask again?”

“Oh.. umm no.. .I mean.. I don’t have a partner… so umm no” Yeah that makes fucking sense you knob, because you’re clearly the virgin mary and don’t have sex out of wedlock.

Anyway, she calls the ambo’s immediately, pretty sure it’s my appendix and gives me a shot of morpheine.

Then she proceeds to ask if there is any way I could be pregnant…
This time my thought process is a bit shorter, but I tell her again, “No…” and leave out the ‘i don’t think so’ because that would require explanation…

Turns out, the pregnancy test they did came out positive….

FML ..

Second one turned out negative… now either the first was a faulty test or that foetus killed itself at the first chance it had before being associated to me and my trainwreck of a mind/life within its first futile moments..

The sad thing is – I actually had a glimmer of positive thought there – if I was pregnant it might mean a male would have to stick around in my life regardless of my social awkwardness..

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Fastforward ==>  Hospital ==>  Public ==> Not one single mildly attractive doctor ==> everyone keeps fucking poking my belly asking me, “Does this hurt” whilst I’m whincing/crying…. “nah it’s fine bro” ==> get asked twenty more effing times if I could be pregnant — are you not in the medical profession for a reason? Instead of constantly reminding me of my shitty sex life, how about you just do some tests that require no communication.. thanks ==> get appendix taken out ==> also have a ruptured ovarian cyst ==> alive – life is good…

So I’m  less of a woman now…
I’m missing my appendix..
I have three little scars from where they cut me open..
I am sore..

The only positive I can take from having my appendix removed is my addiction to pain killers is being satisfied! WINNNING (i’m joking kids…) They actually tried to discharge me just on Panadol… are the health cuts THAT BAD that you can remove an organ from someone but only provide them with low range pain relief???

Now, I have to take two weeks off work – which is like all of your annual sick leave (on most Australian employee agreements) in ONE GO and.. I’ve only been working for this company for three months, so I get unpaid two weeks off work… because I already used my sick leave last month when I was told I just had ‘gastro’ (turns out my appendix was like exploding you dumb mofo)… so I’m broke.. without a car.. .can’t afford to get my car back… suck at life and am refusing to let a perfectly amazing guy into my life because of my dick brain..

On the plus side – since I already had this surgery before, they cut over one of the old scars, and the new scar kinda intercepts and makes it look like a have secondary small vagina below my bellow button/pouring out of it..  So I got that going for me… which is nice…

How I Know I’m Getting Old

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Yes, at the ripe old age of 24 … I have come to the realization that I am in fact … Old …

No I don’t shit my pants or have erection problems (I lie, I haven’t had sex in god knows how long so that in it self is an erection problem); but as I grow I am noticing things around me change.

My perception alone has changed a lot, but more than that my taste, my tolerance levels and my overall desires have incredibly and vastly changed since I was 18.

So here is my list of signs that you are inevitably getting older and uglier…

Me vs My Little Sister In Public

Me vs My Little Sister In Public

1) Clothing
I’ve been quite a sensible dresser for a few years, thanks to working in the corporate world, but I still find it funny when my little sister and I clash over opinion of clothing.  The other day we went shopping and while she wore a stunning outfit, had a beautiful face of makeup and was adorned in jewellery I wore a band shirt, some denim shorts and flats and hadn’t brushed my hair or applied makeup.

For her, going out shopping is a chance to make a statement about her style. But for me, it’s an unenjoyable chore. If I don’t have to put effort in, I won’t. I’d rather be comfortable, sans make up and in and out as quickly as possible.

I think looking at younger generations and not understanding their fashion is an age old sign of getting old – but man, does it ring trueDSC_3761-copy1! I honestly do not understand the need for girls to have shorts so small that their ass cheeks are hanging out and their vagina flaps are swaying in the wind… I was driving past a bunch of girls the other day and I couldn’t tell if they were going to a music festival or a strip club… I laughed when my baby sister said, “They look like skanky hoes…” (probably not appropriate language for a 7 year old but still hilarious)

In the words of Yves Saint Laurent, “fashions fade – style is eternal”; as you get older – this rings more true.

(2) I’m Gonna Pop Some Tags
My best friend sent me a message at how excited she was about her latest shop. I laughed because I cannot remember the last time I went on a shopping spree. She elaborated moments later by explaining how excited she was over how much she had saved and what am awesome sale Big W had on.

This is a sign you are getting old – you would rather SAVE money and only buy items on sale, instead of talking about how expensive and exclusive one item it is.

You get excited to go to KMart, Big W and Best and Less because really – who has the time or money to splurge at Myer? It’s like you have a lightbulb moment and you realise it’s all the same shit with different labels or brands on it – so why bother paying more for the same ?

On top of this, shopping for decor, gardening or home wares becomes much more exciting than anything else.

(3) Going to The Chapel.. and We’re Gonna Get… 
(i secretly hope you sung that song then in you’re head)
Obviously when everyone arMjAxMi1iNWEzMzAxNDYwYzI5Mzcxound you starts having babies and getting married you’re probably at that age that it’s expected.

However I think your mentality changes – instead of being jaded because how dare Lisa and Mike get married when Alfred and I have been dating for twice as long, you are actually just genuinely happy for your loved ones and friends.

The thought of being invited and participating in the most important day of someone’s life actually makes ycd972b419c81341112764cb52827ac2aou so incredibly happy inside and gives you little butterflies – not to mention all the free alcohol and hot random wedding sex.

Then comes the babies …

When one of my best friends had her baby, I felt this amazing sense of love for this little human that I barely knew – it was such a weird feeling and I still don’t understand it. But I think it’s because you love and admire this child’s parents so much that you cannot help but adore this bundle of human skin and poo…

(4) Bedtime is The Shit
I mean this. I actually get excited for bed from the moment I leave it.

It’s like a fluffy haven of warmth and love that will never let me down.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I stayed out clubbing or drinking past 12… I’d much rather have a good nights sleep and no hangover…. Thankkkk you very much!

(5) Wine and Cheese, Please
How amazing is wine and cheese ??
I remember being a kid and even the smell of wine made me want to vomit and Camembert was the equivalent of squashed maggot guts… Yeah … That’s how much I hated it.

Now I’m much older, the thought of opening a bottle of Cab Sauv on a Friday night or sitting down with some friends with a plate if Brie, Feta and Camembert is the ideal social setting.

(6) They Call Me The Ironchef
Ask me two years ago what I could cook, the answer would be 2 minute noodles. These days I’m literally the iron chef. I get so excited to make exciting new dishes and get my family’s reactions and thoughts on how to improve.  Seeing other people enjoy what I make, is so rewarding.

It’s like a whole new world of creation and exploration … And food is amazing – end of story.

(7) Sex? Meh
Casual Sex and the thought of it is just too tiring for me these days.

From someone who had a few … ermm… ‘friends with benefits’… scheduled in on different nights of the week, when I lived in Brisbane, the fact that casual sex just bores me these days would be pretty shocking td05afe45ed5dbdbfc8564d3802d845b9o a few people.

I love sex, I do. In fact I pride myself on how well I please my man, when I’m in a relationship.

But spending time and effort on someone I barely know – it actually irks me these days.

I used to like casual sex, but I realised I don’t like the aftermath. The awkward cuddles and kisses. I don’t want to kiss your mouth – I don’t even like you beyond your penis and what you do with it. I’d rather just get it done, have fun and leave. I don’t want to “snuggle” or talk and pretend there is anything more than a sexual connection between us.

Another light bulb moment you have as you get older is how amazing sex is with someone when there is a deep connection beyond just a physical attraction.  Casual sex can end up feeling so hollow and pointless – particularly if they don’t know what they’re doing or know what works for you.

I have decided It’s just too hard and complicated these days  to find the desire to have a one night stand… And really a vibrator does a better job than most males I have met.

(8) If You Can Learn To Do It, I Can Learn To Do It
I feel so inspired and excited to learn or try new things. I just built a veggie patch, started hockey again, I’m trying to learn a new language and I want to know how to use a circular saw…

Ask me to do any of these things as a teenager or as a young twenty something… I could not be bothered.

All of a sudden it’s like a new zest for life comes back. You realise how awesome Betterc5a914384dafcb9a5e20bebe3a912eb4 Homes and Gardens really is. Pinterest is your best friend. You begin to look for new hobbies or things to do, because “why not?” – maybe it’s also based on a fear that we’re getting older and should have more life skills to teach our children or show off to our friends…

Or perhaps it we have a realisation at some point, that these people who know how to sew, build, saw, canoe, cook, speak five different languages – all began somewhere.  They’re not ‘legends of myth’ but just real people who drink, eat, sleep and shit just the way we all do.

All I know is learning something new, building or creating something with your own bare hands or mind, is really liberating and invigorating.

(9) Club Can’t Even Handle Me Right Now
Like literally.. the club can’t handle me, because they fucking kick me out when I get ridiculously drunk by 11pm and cry to a bouncer about how I just got dumped and how no one will ever love me.

But seriously, I have reached a point where going out dancing, clubbing, crumping and twerking just does not do it for me.  On top of this, you have to play a dangerous game of ‘will I be a paedophile if I talk to/touch that cute boy over there’ because all of a sudden, everyone is younger than you!

I’ve also noticed everyone these days is just too cool for school.  They sit in a corner, get drunk, walk around in circles checking out the ‘scenery’ and wait until some hot guy/girl is drunk enough to have the courage to talk to them.

Meanwhile, I’m just doing my ‘T-Rex’ stalking behind guys…

(10) Date? No, I Prefer Sultanas.

One thing that is inevitable when you get older, is your tolerance levels change.. they rise for certain people and scenarios and extremely decrease in others.  Dating is one where I have found my tolerance levels have extremely decreased.

When I was much younger I was so excited at the prospect of being asked out on a date.  I spent days before hand figuring out what to wear, planning what i would say, training myself to not show him my cool ability of being able to ‘quack’ like a duck if the conversation got boring.. and try my best NOT to sleep with them on the first date.   There were hours and hours of effort I put in to these dates, even though 9/10 were absolute duds who couldn’t even afford to pay for my dinner.

85335c13771418909e2442bc5a513127These days, I cannot be bothered ‘hooking up’ or ‘dating’.  The whole idea or thought of letting someone in, putting in all that time and effort for little guaranteed satisfaction is just too wasteful for me to bother.

I like meeting new people, and I’ve been on a few dates since being single again.  But I find myself struggling to even care or to even make the effort.  I actually even asked one guy if I had to shower after my hockey game before having dinner with him…

My issue, that I’ve just uncovered thanks to a great conversation with my exes mother today, I’m too impatient to let a relationship take it’s natural course.

I am straight forward and don’t have time to waste wondering if someone likes me or not.  I don’t want to continuously go on ‘dates’ with someone for three months and wonder if we’re ready to be ‘facebook offical’ yet.  If you invite me over, I’m not going to hold my pee in and die of .. pee related diseases (it is possible, right?).  I’m not going to get up in the morning first, brush my teeth, apply makeup, brush my hair and lie back in bed like I just naturally wake up gorgeous.  If you’re going to be with someone in the long term, you’re going to see them in their rawest and unsexiest state. So I will be my honest and rawest self from the start so as to avoid any disappointment down the track.

The issue apparently with this is it leaves no mystery, if you give someone everything from the start – there is nothing more of you for them to discover.  There’s no want or desire for them to try and pry more out of you, when you lay it all flat on the table. It’s like buying a see through Kinder Surprise and not getting to even eat the chocolate… how effing boring!

The matter of the fact is, when you get older, part of you wants that eternal relationship.. but part of you also realises that when the time is right, it will happen.  Anything forced seems to end up in heartbreak and hurt, yet anything that happens on the whim, or spontaneous, is fun.  Meeting new people is great, but just because you date someone doesn’t mean you have to continue dating them.  You learn that it is ok to let people go and to just ‘be friends’ or to completely cut ties with people who have no purpose in your life.

It’s a bullshit fairytale we’re fed when we’re young that we are only ‘complete’ when we find our ‘true love’. If you’re waiting for that, I have bad news for you.  You’re the only person who can ‘complete’ yourself.  Figure out what is missing in your life, and go and freaking do it! Don’t say, “oh I want a tall dark man, who likes to swim with sharks and plays guitar”.  Most of the time what we want in other people is what we are lacking in ourselves.  So go out there and swim with sharks, learn how to play guitar and hell! even get a freaking sex change! (ok.. no seriously don’t do that, it’s too expensive… but hey onn the plus side you might win Eurovision?). 127978-8f18b89a-d955-11e3-917f-8bca2ad8cf46
(11) You Actually Understand How Important It Is to Love Yourself

It’s told to us a million times when we’re younger, but it only sinks in when we’re much older – LEARN TO LOVE YOURSELF BEFORE YOU LOVE ANYONE ELSE.

When I was much younger, I didn’t understand why anyone wanted to date me, sleep with437124b298501b8a10f07ae0aedf423d me or even talk to me.  So I thought that this person was amazing for wanting to do so, and didn’t know if anyone else would want to sleep with me and found myself in quite a bit of trouble and bad situations as well as a head full of regret.  I didn’t think what I had or who I was, was very special or important or worth holding on to…. I treated myself like a bargain bin lipstick.  I proceeded to be treated accordingly not only in personal relationships, but also at work – I let people treat me like I had no value so it didn’t matter if they bruised me, broke me or destroyed me.

If you don’t learn to love yourself as an adult you will let everyone walk all over you.  You’re going to give away your goods like they are $1 specials at Coles – and no one, NO ONE wants cheap, shit.  WE want a quality person to have fun with, not someone who feels so desperate and vulnerable they throw themselves at anyone who pays them attention.

 

In Conclusion… 

Getting old is not a burden or a curse.  It is a blessing and one that a lot of people never get to experience.

So embrace yourself, your lessons learned and your hardships because they are all making you a stronger, wiser, better you.

 

Go get em tiger xo

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It Is Ok

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I noticed since my break up, that I have been extremely optimistic and gotten over things pretty fast.

I put this down to years of beating myself up, putting myself down and then realising that I could only love someone as much as I could and not expect anything in return if I didn’t want to get hurt anymore.

Yes, I cried – I was so angry the night it happened, on my way to pickup my large supreme pizza, I screamed at the top of my lungs to the universe and the seemingly shit bad luck I’ve had recently, then  bashed my steering wheel as hard as I could.

I asked, “Why me? Why can’t someone just love me?”

What did it achieve?

Nothing.

I picked myself up and moved on. I got back into my fitness regime,  sprinted while listening to Katy Perry and Kanye West on repeat (don’t judge) and I fucking smiled! I smiled because I am allowed to be happy and I know I deserve to be happy instead of being an emotional wreck.

I’ve learnt to love myself and to thrive when being single to the point that I actually get excited at the prospect of being able to watch whatever I want, cry at the corniest movies, drink red wine in my undies, while eating chinese on a Friday night, fart as loudly as I want, and not have to worry about preening myself or my nether regions for someone else’s enjoyment.

Being single is such a great time, if you let it be. However, a few of my friends have been waiting for a phone call.  Waiting for me to break down, anxiously hoping my dad doesn’t call them from the hospital.  My dad, my workmates and my friends have been prying me to break lose and to break down.

And I Haven’t.

The extent of my spiral was a drunken night the night after it happened, and I was upset more for the fact that I got kicked out of a club for being too drunk and ruining a perfectly good girls night, than I was that I had lost love.

While I might be doing extremely well, given the circumstances, I think society expects us to break down and fall apart.  I had a workmate who basically was begging me to fall apart, she kept prying and asking questions and saying ‘You can cry – it’s ok’.  I didn’t want to cry and I didn’t want to talk about it.

What I have learnt is that … it is ok.

It is ok to be honest and to feel raw emotion and to crave some kind of affection. It is ok to fall apart, to lose yourself in tears and sadness.  It is ok to need a day off work and to get so drunk that you call and text your ex a million times.  It’s ok to get nervous at the thought of the amount of weddings and engagement parties you have to attend SOLO.  It is ok to want to throw your frozen coke on the teenage couple in front of you who won’t shut up because they need to tell each other one more time how in love they are.  It is ok to want to punch your TV when Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson fall in love in ten days when you’ve worked your arse off for months to end up getting nothing more than a ‘you’re a good person’.

All of these feelings, emotions and actions are OK – you’re not less of a person for feeling them.

Nor are you weak.

But the thing is, it is also ok to move on.

I’ve spent days and weeks crying about exes and dreaming that we were together again.  I would go to sleep at night telling myself they loved me and they would wake up one day and run back to me and tell me how amazing I am and how stupid they were. I went through phases where I honestly thought I was sleeping next to an ex still and woke up in tears when I realised they weren’t there and they never would be again.

What did this achieve?

Nothing.

When it is time to move on, allow yourself to move on.  Don’t entertain these negative thoughts that will get you nowhere.  You don’t need to be your own worst enemy – you should always be your own best friend.

You should always love yourself enough to know that as bad as your heart may break, you will always survive and that everything will be ok.

I have learnt, over the years, that I fall in love easily and deeply. I also learnt to never place any expectations on your love. Love is not supposed to be greedy.

Love is supposed to be freely given, without expectation, without compromise and without pressure.  You can only love someone as much as you can and hope that they love themselves enough to appreciate that.  When they do, you’ll usually find, the strength of your love is returned.

If they don’t, all you can do is embrace the fact that you were lucky enough to have loved – and to experience that emotion.

Many people go their whole lives without falling in love or ever appreciating another person purely.

If you can, if you do without expectation, then you are on your way to living a bullet proof existence.

You’ll never doubt your heart or regret your decision to love ever again.

You will simply smile at the fact that you were presented a person who needed love more than you did and in one way or another, you made their life much better.  And you will know, that because you love yourself and value yourself so much – it will be ok.

Maybe You’ll Remember While I Forget [Dec 28, 2009]

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I keep writing these words

and everytime i try to send

my fingers find the ‘back’ button far too enticing..

the little cursor finds the box with a cross a temptress

…highlighted, the words all vanish with a quick tap of any key

so why can’t i just beg for more?
why is my head too stubborn to let my heart win this one time?
maybe it’s because i heard that song hoping you’d arrive and save me from the truth that was flirting with my drunk mind

maybe it’s because you never really met me halfway or further than that…
and yes – it was too much to ask of you.

i keep deleting your number – only to add it back into my phone a moment later

i keep thinking it’s time to call

to see how you are

my heart is almost as stubborn… she won’t let go of this, and slowly she’s trying to convince the rest of me to ask you one simple question

my head won’t be so foolish

i just need to hold on to what i know

and obviously it’s not your mind

it’s not your heart

it’s not the soul i saw in your eyes
or the hope your smile gave me

it’s not in your kiss

it’s not anymore a part of me

i’m going back to that person i know best

the one that didn’t let you in for such a long time

the person who kept finding flaws in you

the person who found all the right words to hurt you

the person who was strong enough to turn you away

maybe then
you’ll remember
and

i’ll just forget you

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