SLIDER

NEWSLETTER

Sunday 31 December 2017

17 Things 2017 Has Taught Me

Well, 2017, you've been one hell of a ride.

As I sit and reflect on all that has occurred this year, I can't help but feel proud of everything I have accomplished. Like, on a personal level. (SIDENOTE: I'm trying so hard to not be political in this post!)

So here it is, guys: as we wave goodbye to 2017, I give you 17 things I have learned this year, and hope to take with me into the future.



17. Find Time for What You Love

Having a job sucks. Full-time education sucks. Responsibility sucks. Trying to be an adult sucks. It sometimes feels like an endless cycle of shittiness that I cannot escape. But this year has taught me to take time for myself. I have read the books I have wanted to read for the first time in nearly two years. I light candles and take baths (not apologising for being that basic). I exercise because I want to. I make time to go outside everyday and take in my surroundings. I try to find happiness in everything I do because, believe me, it makes getting out of bed in a morning a lot easier!



16. Feel the Fear and do it Anyway

Growing up is the scariest thing in the world to me. People around me are getting older; I'm having to start thinking about 'big girl jobs' post-uni, and it's all new and exciting but so, so frightening. The safety bubble of student life is slowly deflating: but why drown when you can swim? It's all challenging but I'm not going to stop living my life because I'm scared.

15. It's OK to be Selfish

I have a classic case of chronic 'yes-ness'; I always have been a victim of it. I seem to always spread myself too thin, have my fingers dipped in just one too many pies because I am just terrified of saying 'no' to people. Well...not anymore! I've taken it upon myself to learn to say 'no' to people for my own sanity. And that's ok.

14. Taking 'Me Time' is a Good Thing

I've learned to embrace my own company because it is just as valuable as anybody else's. Silence can be golden. It's probably been one of the hardest things to learn to do but most definitely been rewarding. I take the time to reflect, to clear my mind, to simply stop and be. In a city like London, to just be seems impossible but in those quiet moments, I feel rejuvenated and healthy.

13. Kindness will Never be a Weakness...

It's my biggest strength. It takes so much to be kind; it's a real power. I honestly sleep better knowing that I try to make my contribution to this world as positive as I can. Wanting the very best for everyone can never be bad; as the saying goes: "treat others the way you want to be treated."

12. ...But Never be a Pushover

Kindness is a great thing, but it doesn't equate to weakness. I have stopped letting people walk all over me. Stop letting people treat you like you are small. You are not small. I stand up for what I think is right and good; I fight for what I deserve. I know my worth and I hold that dear to me.

11. Stop Putting so Much Pressure on Yourself

I have always prided myself on being a hard-worker. I enjoy challenging myself. What I don't enjoy is stretching myself so thin that I crash and burn and don't succeed at all. I may have high expectations of myself, but this year has taught me that those expectations can't always matter. Being realistic is important.

10. Travel

This year has afforded me the most wonderful opportunities to explore places I never thought I'd see, experience cultures I have always wanted to partake in. I can only see the positives that travelling offers. It reminds me that there is a world outside of university, outside of London, outside of England. Travelling broadens horizons and offers perspective and I can only hope to see more of the world in the years to come!


9. Don't Just Feel; Talk.

I'm the worst at opening up *sighs*. I know it; my friends know it (yes Millie, I'm talking about you ;)!) I just hate feeling like a burden or that I'm whining over nothing. But this year I have made a real conscious effort to open up more to those closest to me. Slowly, I'm getting better and I think it helps. 'A problem shared is a problem halved', after all. Well, I'm not too sure if I believe that but I've learned that my the people I love will never think me a burden or reject my ask for help. I really hope to improve!

8. Not Everyone is Rooting for you

Another thing this year has taught me is that not everyone is looking out for you. Not everyone wants you to succeed. It's shit that people in this world are like this but, hey, it clearly their problem and - most importantly - it's not your problem to fix. Transform their desire to see you fail into your own personal drive. Nothing is going to make you stand taller than people trying to push you down.

7. Know Your Worth

Don't let anyone make you think you are worth any less. This year has taught me my own self-worth, my own value, and no one can take that away from me. You are valid in every single way. Your time, your energy, your efforts are as important as anyone else's. No-one should make you feel otherwise.

6. Tell Your Loved Ones You Love Them

Knowing you're loved is the most beautiful feeling in the world: share it. Your loved ones need to know how much you love them. They aren't going to be here forever.

5. A Patriarchy Still Exists and it's Not OK.

Would this really be a post written by Kerry if it didn't incorporate issues of gender equality?! STAND UP LADIES! 2017 most definitely was our year but it's only just the beginning.



4. Confidence is Key...and if you aren't, pretend!

It's all about how you present yourself. I will never be taken seriously in all walks of life if I can't say "I can do this!" Believing in yourself is the first step to greatness; how can you accomplish anything if you are scared to fail? Take a deep breath and jump...and if you can't, then get someone to push you; we all need a little bit of help now and then!

3. Stay True to Yourself

Stay loyal and honest with yourself. Never be ashamed of who you are because, at the end of the day, what is cool about being like somebody else? One more time for the people in the back...YOU ARE IMPORTANT; YOU ARE SPECIAL; YOU ARE LOVED FOR BEING YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

2. Everything Happens for a Reason

This year has proved to me that karma is real...and that it's the biggest bitch about! There is purpose to everything and the cyclical nature of life just serves to prove it. What goes around comes around. Innit.

1. There's Beauty in Everything...you Just Need to Look Harder

Sometimes, don't you just want to wake up and cancel the day and just start again tomorrow? It's dark and it's cold and you have no energy or time and you just think it would be easier to hide away from the world. I never let myself do this. Neither should you. Even if it just the smallest of things, there is always something to be seen and appreciated - a cute dog on the tube, a hug from your friend, a text from your Mam. Everyday there is a reason to get up and live. For reference see the image below: meet Kevin, the happiest dog the District Line ever saw.





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Wednesday 27 December 2017

I'm a Feminist Who Wears Pink...You Ok There?

Little girls are, for the most part, taught that women can be anything. It's a great message; I am more than for it (#girlpower.) I know I can be anything I want to be. I know my gender shouldn't define my prospects. However, I also know that although my gender shouldn't be an obstacle, at some point it most definitely will (and already has been, but we'll get into that another time.) I mean, can we really say that we are promoting gender equality, when the message we consistently send out is that in order to achieve anything significant, girls need to adopt stereotypically-masculine traits. Like, sure you can be a girl and solve a quadratic equation, but you can't solve it wearing a dress. You can chair a meeting, but not wearing gels with crystal diamonds on the thumbnail. You can fix a car tyre, but not while wearing lipstick.

I mean, everyone knows that lipstick prevents people from being competent.

What I am getting at is this: why can't I participate in the feminine behaviours associated with my gender and be a boss-ass bitch? Surely, it can't mean I'm a failed feminist, right?

I've wanted to write this post for a while, but the trigger for it can be pinned down to a recent video of a certain famous race car driver's comments regarding his nephew, laughing whilst claiming "boys don't wear dresses!" It completely sums up my perspective of where gender equality fails. Wearing a dress - arguably the epitome of all that is feminine - is weak; it's laughable. It is the complete and utter devaluation of femininity. It is the reason why everyone is fine with a little girl playing with car toys and balks at a little boy wearing a dress. It's less about enforcing rigidly defined gender roles on boys and girls, and more about straight up fucking misogyny. Anything regarded as "feminine" is still seen by men and women alike as occupying lower status.

We see the devaluation of femininity play out frequently. There's the whole trope of "you throw/run/hit like a girl," not to mention the fact that "girl" is routinely used as an insult among boys and men. Women are advised to tone down their femininity—less ruffles, less makeup, less flashy jewellery; more dark pant-suits with clean lines—if they want to be taken seriously at their jobs. And while the backlash against the hyper-gendering of little girls—the ubiquitousness of the culture of Princess, tutus and a pink colour palette—is just as important as the hyper-gendering of little boys, there is occasionally an anti-femme tone that creeps into the discourse.

There's a difference between gender expectations and freedom of choice. There's nothing wrong with plastic tiaras and pastel colours, but they shouldn't be pushed onto little girls as a means of gendering. Like, for example, I've seen toy 'ambulances' that come in shades of pink and blue, which is super annoying on one level as it sends the 'subtle' (lol) message that girls need some kind of special girl car to be a successful girl paramedic. But on another level, I guess there is nothing objectively wrong with a pink toy ambulance. When people ask "Why can't girls just play with a regular toy?" I always wonder why the pink ambulance can't be the "regular" toy? I mean, I know why, but it's frustrating to constantly see the stereotypically-masculine version of any given toy being hailed as the "regular", while the feminine version is sniffed at.

What I'm trying to get at, I think, is the idea that gender equality doesn't mean that everything has to be androgynous. It means that all the girly things we've been taught to disdain should be seen as being just as good as all the masculine stuff we've been taught to embrace.

The way forward isn't to teach girls to be more like boys—that's just the same old patriarchal shit of privileging masculinity over femininity. Instead, we should be teaching all kids that wearing skirts and loving pink and wanting to play rugby are totally cool and fine ways to be. There's nothing inherently bad about being feminine; it's enforcing femininity on people as a means of oppression that's the problem. We feminists fight for breaking the gender binary, which is for sure an admirable idea that should be tackled with enthusiasm. But as we move towards viewing gender as more of an all-encompassing spectrum, we need to make sure that spectrum includes the colour pink.






*omg look at that: a little girl wearing pink and blue...groundbreaking.
*photo creds to my mam.


© Kerry Maxwell 2017





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Saturday 23 December 2017

I Don't Know!



When I tell people I have a blog, and that I love to write, the first question they ask is what I write about. And I bloody hate it. Every time I hear it, I grit my teeth and form a tight smile because, well to be honest, I never know how to reply. *fyi, the theme of 'not-knowing' is going to be mentioned here. A lot. Just an early warning :)*

I'm still trying to find my line of thought when it comes to writing. I was going to say "niche" but I don't want to sound like some overly pretentious wannabe! Because of this, my posts are rather sporadic and random; they don't seem to link, which pisses me right off. Not that I want to categorise my blog into a certain genre of writing; I just sometimes think it would be easy to give my blog a 'type', as it were: like, a lifestyle blog, or travel writing, or reviews. I'd just like some definition.

Maybe that's what I'm trying to get at. This place is exactly that...a place. An empty sheet, a blank document, a plain page, ready for me to word-vomit all over it when inspiration strikes.

Because isn't that what writing is about? Maybe it's just me...I don't know!*told you*

It's my safety net but also manages to be somewhat out of my comfort zone. It's definitely my security blanket; I know I can write and I know I can write well, but the content I want to write about can be riskily controversial, controversially risky...if you read my earlier post about 'The Unpleasantries of Writing', you'll see my point - oh my, that was the most dire plug in the history of the world. Virtual apology extended.

I don't know.*yet again* Maybe I'm just overthinking the whole thing. I'm saying that I want to define my blog and give it a genre, yet I don't want to categorise it. I'm saying writing is both in and out of my comfort zone. I'm just a walking, talking, breathing, WRITING contradiction really! I'm thinking of a point and completely reversing it...

And not to sound like a complete cheesepuff, a lightbulb has literally just switched on in my brain. You know the feeling: when the fog lifts and all becomes clear, and you can't type quick enough in case you lose the flow! Thinking. I'm writing what I'm thinking. My blog is simply a stream of consciousness. It doesn't need to make sense - I mean, who's thoughts really make logical sense? It's just me sharing my perspective. I don't need to categorise it into anything else; I don't need to limit it to the confines of a genre. My blog is composed of my thoughts, feelings, ideas, and whatever weird and wonderful shit comes out of my mind. It's limitless. Endless. That should be good enough, right?


© Kerry Maxwell 2017

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Monday 18 December 2017

Stop Attacking Me for Liking Christmas!

I firmly believe that Christmas isn’t just one day; it’s not simply ‘seasonal’ or a ‘holiday.’ Rather, Christmas is a lifestyle choice. And believe you me, it is never too early to celebrate! 

 Bright, summer evenings are dead and gone, Halloween is a ghost (unapologetically punny!) and Bonfire Night… well, it’s hardly relevant, really. 

 It might only be November whilst I am writing this, but the Christmas season has hit us – and boy has it hit us hard. You find yourself negotiating your way through precariously balanced towers of selection boxes in supermarkets and walking by stacks of wrapping paper.  You then convince yourself that buying an entire cheeseboard for your tea tonight is probably not the smartest idea when you have normal, non-seasonal food at home. 

 I’m not ashamed to admit that I bash Christmas harder than the other reindeer bash Rudolph at the end of the song. The Christmas markets are up, the adverts are on and everything is beginning to look pretty and magical. However, I kind of feel like the only festive gal around. Every time I begin to hum a Christmas tune and try to share snapchats of Winter Wonderland, I automatically get shut down. “It’s too early!”, says Scrooge. “It’s not even December”, says the Grinch.

But rather than shun the holiday season, claiming that an elf dies every time you switch on Home Alone, why not embrace an extra month of Christmas cheer? It can lighten up a dreary life to no end as well as brighten up your student housing. Decorations are the answer to everything: crack in the wall? Cover it with tinsel! Bulbs gone? Fairy lights are the answer! And we all know that shoving a Christmas tree in the corner will hide that damp spot no problem. There you have it: Christmas brings love, joy and masks your dump of a house.

And how can we talk about the festive season without mentioning food? The sooner you embrace Christmas, the sooner you can start skipping the gym and stuffing your face with pies, chocolate and anything ‘naughty but nice’. Christmas equates to indulgence; perhaps instead of being a Grinch, you should stuff your mouth with segments of chocolate orange and hush. You also have the perfect justification for day drinking: Baileys at 3pm? It’s Christmas. 

 Hang on…why am I justifying my passion for Christmas? Do you know what? To all those claiming I’m too ‘extra’ for celebrating Christmas a month too early…Fa La La La fuck
you. Go off and live in your non-seasonal caves of wintry doom and gloom. If I want to wrap myself in sparkly Christmas lights while listening to Mariah Carey and drowning in a bath of mincemeat and mulled wine in November, I’m going to.

 So please hold your arguments about how Christmas has been killed by consumerism or how you “don’t really do Christmas”. Stop attacking those of us trying to be festive. Take a break from fighting capitalism, embrace the excess glitter and get in the fucking spirit *adjusts pink-Christmas-cracker-crown on head*.
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Saturday 14 October 2017

The Unpleasantries of Writing


According to some guy called Hemingway, ‘there is nothing to writing.  All you have to do is sit at a typewriter and bleed.’

Correct me if I’m wrong, but clearly our Ernest never suffered with a little old friend called Writer’s Block.  Writing is that simple, apparently.  All I should do is bust open a vein and pour myself out onto a blank page.  Lol.  Ok.  Sit down, Ernie. 

What really annoys me about this quote is that it supports the myth that certain kinds of self-regarding writers like to perpetuate: that real, serious, grown-up writing is full of pain and misery and that a writer is a kind of soothsayer/martyr/prophet who accesses this terrible personal darkness to bring back deeper understandings for the rest of us mortals.

Immediately I’m calling out bullshit.  Writing can be difficult, of course.  Anybody who has tried to string together a sentence at some point knows that.  But then, anything worthwhile or interesting can be difficult.  Playing piano can be difficult.  Trigonometry can be difficult.  Skateboarding can be difficult.  Playing piano whilst skateboarding and doing trigonometry is, I hear, exceedingly difficult.  But difficulty is not something we should shun.  The world is full of difficult things.  Yet people continue to conquer them (I’m yet to conquer trig, but hey, nobody’s perfect!)

Sometimes people must do difficult things out of necessity but very often, people do difficult things because difficulty can be fun.  Some form of pleasure is gained from beating the odds.  It seems to me that writers find themselves in this scenario.  Sure, writing is difficult.  But it is also pleasurably difficult.  Contrastingly, opening your veins over your typewriter is certainly not pleasurable (particularly if you are the one to mop up afterwards!)  Writers, I suspect, don’t like to admit this, because it makes them shallow.  Much better to look like a martyr; much better to look like The Sufferer than to admit that this whole writing business might actually be fun. But there is nothing shallow about pleasure or happiness. Pleasure is about engagement with the world, it is about richness and about depth.

Very often, when writers talk about pleasure, they like to give it a tinge of bloody, excessive darkness because that seems so much more grown-up and serious and all that jazz.  Since when did it become a bad thing to find pleasure in the lighter things in life?

As somebody who not only writes, but who also studies the art of writing, it seems to me that this stuff about typewriters, suicide and the notion of the suffering writer is counter-productive and, to be quite honest, rather depressing.  Sure, it’s time-consuming.  Yes, at times it is not a constant pleasure.  However, writing is definitely not devoid of all pleasure entirely.  And when you find yourself ‘in the zone,’ when the sentences string seamlessly together and the words just flow, these are the moments when writing is addictive.
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Saturday 12 August 2017

Netflix Grief - yep, it's real.

The 6 stages of Netflix grief:

 1) The Processing Stage I (aka Total Paralysis)
As the credits roll after the final episode fades to black, you stare at the screen in complete stupor. You don’t move. You don't think. You barely breathe. Your fingers have become so accustomed to clicking on the next episode that you currently do not know what to do with yourself. The processing stage can last anywhere from just a few minutes to a few days, depending on how the show you watched ended.

2) Emptiness
Perhaps it is the drama from your show seeping into you, but nevertheless, you are convinced that you’ll never feel happy ever again. Finishing a show and having to go back into real life feels like having multiple friends of yours die all at once. You find yourself reminiscing on the good times you guys had together – meaning the times you sat on your couch and watched fictional characters have lives while you gradually lost yours.

3) The Anxiety Stage
You spend a good deal of time just thinking “WTF do I do now?” over and over again. You're lost. You question your purpose on this planet as the anxiety slowly builds because you quickly realise you've forgotten how to socialise like a normal person because for the past few (hours? days? weeks?) you've just been sitting on your arse watching other people live (see stage 2).

4) The Desperation Stage
After realising you literally have nothing to look forward to after a long day at work or a boring social function, the panicked aftermath upon the completion of your show involves scrolling through the list of films on offer - ideally a trilogy: it will give you the time to figure out your next move. You will find love (a new show) again.

5) The Passive-Aggressive Stage
You keep thinking of the dedication you have shown. It takes others weeks, sometimes months to complete a series, but no, you inhaled it in less than 58 hours. You ponder on such time and energy and commitment, and how you should never have felt embarrassed, because you didn't realise the good you had right in front of you - until it was gone. You're mourning. You refuse to let go. Somehow you find yourself falling down a Wikipedia black hole doing ‘research’ and watching endless YouTube outtakes and bloopers because you are just not ready to say goodbye yet. You become incredibly jealous when thinking about all the people in the world who have yet to discover the brilliance, the importance, the sheer NECESSITY of this series, and hate them for their lack of participation within the Netflix community/religion. Yet, at the same time, you desperately wish to trade places with them just to experience the magic all over again for the first time.

6) The Processing Stage II (aka Moving On)
You feel like an empty shell of your former self and realise that this series has destroyed you. At some point you start calculating the number of hours of your life that you spent watching this series, but you stop halfway through because the number gets too high/depressing. And then, you move on to a rebound show and instantly forget about all the hours you’ve wasted so far. Because that’s what we do now.

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Thursday 10 August 2017

More to Life Than 'Likes?'


Confession: I’m an Insta-addict.

Why? Because getting affirmation from strangers makes me feel good – it sounds awful, doesn’t it? Posting pictures in the hope of them (a.k.a. me) being liked.

But I guess seeking validation is nothing new. Maybe it springs from childhood. As a kid, I always remember wanting to make my parents happy. I remember wanting them to tell me I was doing a good job. My heart would swell with pride after they praised my positive school reports, and it would sink in disappointment when they couldn’t attend any plays I performed in. I even see it now amongst younger relatives; my cousins need congratulating on every picture they draw, every word they can spell, every Lego city they can build.

It makes me think how odd it is that a two year old and I can share such a similar desire. What is the point of success if the people I care about don’t care about it?

The only change is that the validation we crave isn’t just from peers or from family.  It comes from a public profile with strangers we invite into our worlds consisting of documentation of that wistfully candid pose looking out onto a blue ocean, and that ‘fitspirational’ slice of avocado on toast you once ate six months ago.

It’s the feedback we receive that thrills us. We are ‘goals’. We are deemed ‘follow-able’ because the content we post is interesting enough for someone to tap twice and forget about as quickly as they scrolled through and viewed it.

So I want to suggest that we tear our eyes away from the screen and look up at the person sitting across from us. Yes, that’s right; a real-life human. Because it’s the real-life relationships we form which should give us true joy. We shun the people who really are in our lives for approval from people who know nothing about you; except that you went to New York last Christmas and that your “#cheatday” go-to is an Oatmeal and Raisin Millie’s Cookie. It’s the people who really exist in our lives that deserve all our effort because, in cloudier times, it won’t be a like on social media which will pull you through. It will be support from the existing, real-life people around us which will brighten our days.

So next time I post a photo, I’ll be sure to match it with an actual human conversation with someone I love. They’re the ones who matter, not the likes I receive.
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Wednesday 7 June 2017

2017 General Election - It's in our Hands.


It’s in our hands.

Unpredictability is extremely unpredictable.  Votes matter; those who don’t vote risk everything.  They risk getting more of the same, they risk getting the opposite of everything they believe in.

Tomorrow is a chance for change, or a bit of change, or no change at all.  Whatever.  The power lies in our vote – so do it.  Vote. 

Each vote is each voter’s right to do what they like with, so go out and vote any which way you think is right.  Vote any which way you want, because you can.  Vote with logic or with passion, vote with thought or with impulse, vote with your head or your heart.  It doesn’t matter to me, that’s up to you.  Vote for who or what you believe in and if you don’t believe in anyone, spoil your vote.  Turn up and make a point.  Because that is what voting is all about.

Voting is our voice; it’s our chance to be heard.  Don’t waste it. 
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Tuesday 30 May 2017

Let's Regain the Narrative.


LET’S REGAIN THE NARRATIVE.

It’s been exactly one week since the Manchester attack, exactly one week since my hometown felt the brunt of the crashing wave of terror.  The anxious ocean of fear which washes over the UK continues to rise, and to be honest, it’s completely justifiable.  Everywhere you turn, the devastating effects are being discussed.  There seems to be no escape from the broadcasts, the articles, social media and this seems to only contribute to the fears encompassing our nation at the moment.  There is a sense of imminent danger.  We are walking on eggshells.  We are scared. 

But I want to suggest that these fears are part of the goal of terrorism.  If we look at terrorism as a big, political tactic, a psychological weapon to achieve subordination of “the enemy”, then it is the purpose of terrorism to make us all believe we are under constant threat.  It makes everybody afraid of being a target.  And in a closely-knitted community like planet Earth, thanks to the likes of social media, this is pretty easy to do.  News travels fast, and fear follows right behind it. 

By scaring people, getting on the news, using social media, terrorists momentarily take the spotlight.  They change the narrative.  Big, powerful, in control, they seem something we need to take seriously.  And we do, because the consequences of their actions are serious.  But we cannot let ourselves fall victim to the climate of fear created by actions.  This only serves to give power to their voice.  This lets terrorism take charge of the narrative: their voice becomes a momentary equalizer.

It’s no wonder we are scared.  The fear is everywhere and it continues to spread.  But we cannot lose our own voice.  We cannot lose the narrative of liberty, freedom and peaceful expressions of democracy in the darkness of fear and false threat.  There is a bigger picture encompassing our situation right now and that is the battle of ideas.  We need to concentrate on standing together, united in our beliefs.  Let’s prove that there is value in our institutions, protect the dignity of each individual in our society no matter their gender, race, sexual orientation, religion .e.t.c.  Let us win the battle against terrorism by reversing the politics of fear and division into unity and love.  Let us regain the strength of our narrative. 
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Sunday 26 March 2017

For the Women


For the women,
Some of you will see this (so thank you for reading :) ); some of you won’t.  Maybe because right now you have no desire to access the Internet and read my blog.  Maybe because you are no longer here.  Some of you are women who have known me since before I knew how to tie my shoes.  Some of you see me every day.  Some of you are women who have seen me struggle to be better than I was the day before.  Some of you know me better than I know myself.  Some of you don’t know me at all. Regardless of which category you fall under, this is a letter of thanks to you, the strong women, because it is because of you, I am me.

 I don’t think words can encompass your power.  I could write for hours – and believe me, I’ve tried – and I would still struggle to capture the ways you have impacted me.  But I don’t doubt that I would not be the person I am today without your example.  It is because of you, I learn.  It is through of you, I live my life in a way that reflects your strength. 

You have shown me that we are powerful.  We are brave.  We are tenacious.  Our accomplishments don’t have to be limited by our gender.  You have proven to me that hard work will get me wherever I want to go.  You encourage me to pursue my passions, live my dreams, whatever they may be, continuing to support me every step of the way.  You have taught me to look for the beauty in the others and accept everyone for who they are because it is through that that I can, most importantly, appreciate the beauty in myself, whether that be my appearance, my spirit or some weird combination of both.  You have pressed and pushed and prodded me until I developed into the confident and capable woman I am today.

 Maybe you gave birth to me.  Maybe you are my best friends.  Maybe I saw you on TV.  Maybe we shared something – a story, a smile, a struggle.  No matter what are connection, association or relation is or isn’t, I strive to be like you.  Your positivity inspires me to smile more.  Your voice gives me courageous volume.  Your compassion makes me kinder.  Your activism gives me freedom. You teach me to never give up.

So here’s to the women; the remarkable women.  Thank you for all the incredible gifts you have given me. I can only hope to do the same for others some day: because of you, I am me.
Signed,


A woman in the making.
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Saturday 4 March 2017

The Universal Truths of Learning to Adult


1)      You will face at least one existential crisis per term.

Such crises shape the deadline-looming/budget-making/budget-breaking/trying-to-get-your-life-together mould that undoubtedly is Freshers Year.  You start out in September bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with a pink fluffy pen which was supposed to write you into 2.1 territory and your brand-new laptop which holds the answer to every question ever asked about anything ever.  “You’re a go-getter; you’re ready for this” you think.  Little do you know that that entrance into 2.1 territory is pretty much the equivalent of trying to break into Area 51 of the education system, and the questions you ask yourself *Siri* and the answers you’re *Siri* meant to have seem to increase tenfold.  The pressure builds as the essays pile, the bomb explodes, and rather than chuck the new laptop to the ground and waste all expense (see point 2), you find it perfectly acceptable to lay in bed 6 hours before the deadline contemplating the purpose of your degree as if we’re all dust in the end anyway.  Yet you still pass.  And you breathe a sigh of relief.  And once again the cycle begins.



2)      Think you’re broke now?  Ha.

I have learned that adulting – yes, that is now a verb – requires a certain measure of monetary management.  ‘Finance’ and ‘Budget’ are words I am slowly learning because, shockingly, things cost money.  Who’d have thought it?  Student loans are of God; gilded butterfly wings of beauty that flutter into our bank accounts termly with promises of a food shop, nights out, maybe a concert ticket…the possibilities are endless, dangerously making overspending far too easy and resulting in you being that person who lives off tinned tomatoes for the rest of the term (true story)  Be a grown-up.  Budget.  Spread the word to save a life.



3)      People will tell you that winging it doesn’t cut it here, but you’ll wing it anyway.  And it will work.

Links back to point one, really.  You have 6 hours and 2000 words to write.  Enter a modern form of Plato’s Euthyphro Dilemma: does this student rite of passage release the adult within, or do you step up and become an adult to make it through the night?  Adult-like qualities of strength and self-motivation seep through your pores, leak through your tapping fingers onto your keyboard to power you through; the essay is worth 60% of your module, after all.  Winging it ignites a fire in your belly; becoming an adult, you discover, means you can complete anything on time to a satisfactory standard.  That, and that caffeine truly does work. 



4)      You will be expected to grow up and figure out just what you want to do, yet the wider world will still view you as a child.

Not a Harry Potter or Matilda Wormwood ‘child prodigy.’  Not an educated person who is finding their feet in the big wide world.  Just a child.  Better yet, a millennial: a social-networking, technology-obsessed member of Generation Y.  You’re lazy, entitled, floating through life in university, dreaming of a future in politics or media; you think it’s tough?  “You lot don’t know you’re born! Kids today, eh?”  Kids.  Call me a kid and question my maturity when you pay my accommodation fees due at the end of this week.


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Saturday 14 January 2017

"You should go and love yourself" *insert beautiful picture of Bieber himself.


From my short time living away from home, amongst a whole new bunch of people, I’ve come across this idea a lot.  Trying to find the words to convey what I want to say about this topic is quite tough. I have so much to say, but actually articulating what it is I am trying to say is proving quite challenging.  It’s something that I think everyone will understand, including my no.1 JB himself.

Quite bluntly, why is it that we have such a hard time loving ourselves?

The ability to feel confident in our own skin is crucial to being a fully-actualized individual.  It is the foundation for so many of our other qualities.  We could be the brightest of people, successful in work, surrounded by total love and positivity; we could just be awesome human beings, yet I’ve found that the world puts so much emphasis on a negative bias.  Body image.  People-pleasing.  Underachievement.  And it is from this that self-worth becomes measurable, something we internally judge ourselves on.  Low self-worth is a form of self-sabotage.  It undermines any potential happiness because even if we know in our heads that we are capable, beautiful, strong, our hearts spit venomous falsities of weakness, stupidity, ugliness.  Whether we want to admit or not, it is something we all experience.  At some point, we all have never felt quite good enough and that is a sad truth.

It is hard to embrace any form of self-love, validation or worth because e the world often doesn’t mirror back to us what we’d like to believe about ourselves.  We may accept the concept that we are worthy, reinforced by loving friends and family that “you do look good in that dress!” and “you did so good in that exam!”  But out in the harsh world of criticism and comparison, we question that quantitative quality of “good.”  Are we good enough? Are we smart enough? Are we successful enough?

We’ve forgotten how to trust ourselves; we’ve forgotten how to rely on our own beliefs and judgements.  Instead we look to others to build us up and manufacture our self-esteem.  We rely on a measurement of what is enough to meet the world’s approval.  So, really, it’s no wonder we suffer with low self-esteem.  How is it possible to recognize our worthiness, our value, when so many undermining efforts challenge us?

To me, the most important step in loving yourself is defining what it means to you.  Get clear on all that is personal to you - how you want to live your life, the type of person you want to be.  Perhaps then, with a focus on the subjective, it’s easier to rely less on what others measure as good, because you have your own personal operating system to define what is worthy or of value.  Simply enough, you can do something for the benefit of your own self.  Defining what self-love is subjectively means that everything is tailored for you; it allows you to be authentic and expressive through your thoughts and endeavors because the self-love you experience naturally comes from you.  There is no need for a reliance on anybody else.  Relying on yourself to define your own integrity means that you can think of yourself as someone with value, reinforcing a positive self-image.

With that being said, I’m a huge believer in all that “treat others the way you want to be treated” stuff.  The way you treat others, the type of energy you bring into a space, is a massive reflection of how you feel about yourself and so I think it is necessary to become the person you want to be your best friend *not promoting identity-theft, I swear.  If you want love, understanding and compassion, then treat others likewise with no expectations.  The more happiness, acceptance and love you can freely share, the more love you have for yourself.

Of course, there is no set guideline to loving yourself.  However, my view of the whole thing springs from the idea of beginning to trust yourself and defining your ideas of self-worth according to your own personal needs and desires.  From this, perhaps you will find that you need less and less validation from others.  Respect yourself.  See yourself as worthy and deserving.  You are entirely worth the effort; you just won’t know it till you start showing it to yourself.




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