Crossing a border is exactly how I’m feeling this morning . How strange that song and clip found me. It touched me in a way that Is difficult to describe. How visually it represented so much of what has sat inside of me and the lyrics my thoughts. It joined up my dots , it showed me the connections that I could see but did not want to, it made me brave.
On this sunny morning I feel so peaceful. The kind of peace that lifts you above what is happening around you. To a new place of wonder where everything looks clearer, more vibrant more colourful, more exquisite.
To say this has been a life long battle is an understatement but particularly over the past 6 years and that letter. A changing point that affected my life in a way that I struggled to cope with.
A loss that could not be replaced and a hole that was so vast I did not know how to fill it.
All my happiness that I had found was washed into an ocean and I struggled to find it. Swimming around searching and searching but finding myself further and further away from what I was looking for.
I went for dinner last night with L&M and my girl cane too. An evening of pink gin and chats.
It was the lovely M”s birthday.
3 of my most favourite girls all around one table. Pure and beautiful friendship and love that you can’t create it just exists. Because we all care about each other.
We have seen each other ride the waves of magic but we have also watched each other struggle and fall.
But still we stand together
How apt to be surrounded by my angels. Lovely actually.
On the way back to my car M said to me that she felt like she had lost her sparkle.
We never lose our sparkle. It sometimes just lies dormant inside. After I dropped her off and me and my girl drove home I thought to myself how much I saw all that sparkle around the table from each and every one of them.
As the saying goes ..
sparkle is in the eye of the beholder ✨🌟✨ ❤️
Im playing this song on repeat. Just because it is beautiful.
It feels strange even calling you that. It feels like a word that is so precious. When I hear my girl say it to P it fills my heart with joy. He adores her. He cherishes her in a way that only a dad can. He would lay down his life for her without even blinking. She can do no wrong. Even when she gets mad at him for not washing up, or putting his clothes away or leaving his racing papers everywhere he lets her have a moan up and then makes her laugh. She knows that he tries to be the best dad he can but more importantly she feels loved. And in return even in her grumpy moments she adores him. And when they laugh together it is like magic. I can picture him building snowmen with her, running along behind her holding her bike, carrying her on his shoulders on the way to the swings, singing her to sleep when she was a baby after coming home worn out from work in the early hours but knowing that only his soothing voice was enough to send her to dreams, running into the hospital with her in his arms when she struggled to breathe. Being at every assembly, every show, every party. He earns the word dad every day that he wakes up. He is everything I would have wanted and you should have been. And he will never stop being that until he takes his last breath. He knows how proud I am that he is the dad to our girl.
How lucky she is.
If I got one thing right in life it was that.
She feels loved. It doesn’t cost one single penny but it is worth everything.
You hurt me more than I could ever put into words. I loved you like a puppy. Sitting by your side and being ignored. An irritation to your world. Sitting there looking for the tiniest bit of affection but only finding disapproval.
Trying so hard not to be clumsy and careless in all my dreaminess which was squashed by fear of you shouting at me and feeling the back of your hand.
Why did I always forget to put my slippers on. I always tried to remember and yet I was caught in chats with Jerry lying on my bed and I’d just forget. Slipping down those stairs in my Snow White socks (the ones Santa gave me for Christmas and were my favourites) wash and wear, wash and wear until they had holes.
But the fall on those stairs never hurt as much as the pain that greeted me at the bottom.
Do you remember when I was little, that time I played that song when you came home from work. i never forgot it. Daddy’s home by Cliff Richard. I waited by the stereo when I got home from school. I was little and I wasn’t allowed to touch it. But I put the record on and waited for you to come in from work so I could play that song for you. As you came through the door I put it on. In my excitement I dropped the needle a little clumsily on the record. You shouted at me and told me I was an idiot and when I cried you said you would give me something to cry about. You told me never to touch it again. I never did I was too scared. And when you left you took it with you.
Why were you always so angry and unforgiving? What made you that way?
I’ve always hated being angry. In case I was made like you.
But I’m nothing like you and you are nothing like me.
And yet I was your favourite. Was it because I loved you so much anyways. Whatever you did I would still come back and sit by your side thinking that if I loved you enough you would love me back.
What I didn’t realise is that you weren’t capable of love. You didn’t know how to show it.
To the outside world you were this man that everyone wanted to be around. Charming and
Generous. Surrounding yourself with vacuous and superficial people whilst my mum was working her socks off and living on hand me downs from relatives that saw her beauty.
Wow… what did she see in you. When I think of who she was and is I find it staggering that she gave you a second glance.
Gran knew. You were hers so she loved you but she knew my mum was way to good for you. And she looked out for me. Gave me everything that you were unable to. Loved me so much and saw me for all I was. I think she made it her mission to make me feel treasured.
She loved you too and yet she was also an inconvenience.
Was it too painful to see what you didn’t have? That all the money you have has never been able to buy.
You were always going to run off with some bird that made you look good. Always trading in for the younger and younger and younger model. They were never quite enough to take away all your insecurities of not being enough. That feels sad.
For all your worldwide travels, dinner parties and affluent friends your only real friend was your little dog. I heard how much you cried when she died.
In her eyes I guess you were enough. Im glad that you had that.
But for me you were not. Your lies, your deceit, your constant criticisms and making me feel small and useless were not what a dad should be. The careless way you used your hands in anger. Those red marks and bruises healed but left the scars of being scared to get things wrong. Never taking a risk for fear of messing up.
How can i love someone who scared me, hurt me and made me feel worthless.
But you don’t anymore You have missed out in every way in the beauty of what sat right next to you. It was an original that can never be replaced.
Never fighting for something that had such value.
Not worth your time or effort to fix what you had broken and in doing that making me feel like I was.
But I wasn’t broken. You were. And I wonder if deep down inside you know it. You let me slip through your fingers in not being able to say I’m sorry for being a rubbish dad to you. I would have forgiven you if you had tried.
I used to wonder if you thought about me, if it made you sad, if you had regrets for the way you were. If you wondered who I was now and what I was doing. If you realised that you had lost a treasure that couldn’t be replaced.
But now I don’t. I don’t need you anymore. Your love is no longer required by me. I have learnt to love myself in all its good and bad. I love to dream when you told me not to. To show my fear, my hurt, my sadness, and my anger. I know how to show those things in a way that is healthy and won’t hurt others. I never want to hurt others.
I am out in the world and you are my dad. The only one I will ever have and for that very fact I will always love you. And that feels wonderful to be able to say. Because I can love you without needing the same back.
And that’s not meant to hurt you. Its just to say that I’m finally ok.
I’m finding my blog is becoming a little diary for me. Well a bit of everything actually. My own therapy, talking out loud rather than in my head, a place to explore, to dream, to share, to vent, to talk about experiences and to be excited about changes that I’m making.
A few posts ago I was thinking of shutting it down but I like writing it.. just for me.
I have my own little way of doing and thinking about stuff and other than my very closest I don’t really have many places to share beyond the surface.
Lots of things are changing for me and I’m trying to be fearless in making stuff happen. My plan is to set up my own business which I plan to have in place by September. I have lots of people cheering me on in this but I’m doing it myself. I don’t need anyone to help me. In fact I want to make this stuff happen for myself and when I look back in another years time feel proud that no one gave me a leg up or paved my way. This will all be on my own merits and because I have skillz.
I have without question felt huge sadness. I have felt stupid and naive in my openness.
I don’t regret anything though. I’m always so true to myself and honest in my feelings. And this was a massive learning lesson in how being that way can hurt me. But I think it says less about me and more about others. I’d still rather be the way I am. It’s honest in all its crazy stupid love.
I felt really happy for my kick ass Lupito who I’ve been quietly cheering on in the moments when she was struggling. I told her what she already knew. And she kicked it into touch second time round. Kick ass awesome. Hope you are still dancing.
I also spoke to A yesterday. Been checking in with him over the last year. He has proper struggled but dug deep and showed a resilience that others questioned. I feel so proud of him. He is in the thick of it right now but he always knows I’ve got his back. And when he finishes it feels like he will set me free. Come on that boy.
Love that he calls me the Cockney Angel. I’m neither but it makes me feel like a superhero with wings 😂
I sat with my girl at dinner tonight listening to her talk about her love life. Turns out she is also very discerning. Boys asking her out but she’s not interested in just having a boyfriend. She’s a girls girl and happy in that. I think they will have to be pretty special to turn her head. She asked me what my type is.
I said to her that I don’t have one. I just know.
But that it’s not enough for someone to just be hot. They have to be interesting and able to talk otherwise I would be bored after five minutes. I mean I totally need them to show love in a physical sense. It’s totally my language of love but if I can’t have a conversation with them or they don’t make me laugh then I can’t be bothered. And game players, charmers and people full of their own importance need not apply. I’m a dreamer in a down to earth girl and genuine and honest is must.
I was asked by someone If I wanted to meet up. I left it and left it. Everyone that cares about me willed me to say yes and eventually I did. Moments later I knew it was the wrong decision. I liked them and felt flattered but feel like I said yes because I felt like I should.
I’ll know when it’s something I’m willing to take a risk in. Feeling a little risk aversive with my heart. I’ve put myself out there but I’d quite like to take care of my heart for a while. Perhaps I feel stuff more than others. Too sensitive as I’ve often been told. Well that’s the way I am and actually it’s a gift. And I would like to treasure that gift for a while before I give it back out.
But I’m definitely feeling more bold in opening up my world in meet ups with other writers this week and that feels exciting.
I don’t know what to expect and maybe it won’t be for me but It feels like it might be fun and there is more to me than meets the eye.
Dumb blonde I am not. As my new T-shirt says “don’t judge a book by its cover”.
oh and no song for this one but I found this as I was thinking about angels. There are many times in life where I feel like someone is looking out for me. To even imagine it sounds crazy. And yet I could not believe in something more.
I awoke this morning to the sound of the rain. Half asleep, dreamily in a Parisian place of imagination with the sounds of real.
Emotionally and physically charged in waiting for the man I love to return to my bed. Lying ready to share the warmth and pleasure of each other’s bodies against the backdrop of rain falling on my windows. No need to join the world beyond. Hidden in our own moment of magic and ecstasy.
The rules of a what’s app group?
I am part of a many what’s app groups. Apart from a couple that are my super closees, I really don’t like them.
I find them another source of fitting in to what’s expected. It makes me think about the stuff that teens talk about.
Despite being part of these groups I rarely communicate on them preferring to just contact each individual. I have a different connection with each and talk to them in different ways. One size has never fitted all with me and perhaps what’s app requires that.
Even Individually, things can very easily be lost in translation in a way that in person they are not.
It’s just so impersonal.
Like going through the motions.
I guess I struggle completely with social media. It always feels completely shallow, pointless and lacking in any connection whatsoever. It’s no surprise that the best I can do is LinkedIn.
Every now and then I might accept a bucket load of invites but I never ever read it.
Job searching is its only purpose for me. If those people wanted to remain connected to me then they would talk to me. But people don’t do that now. The art of building relationships after leaving somewhere feels pretty lost. Unless you are in the moment you are reduced to a face on a website or a what’s app group chat.
And unfortunately in removing a human element I disconnect very quickly.
Like all things, it might be the way it’s all moving, but counselling on line… not feeling it.. without the human element you are just exacerbating the problem. Most people who I see are devoid of a strength of human connection that allows them to show their deepest self and then feel something in return.
If there is one thing certain in this life, I feel!
But I can’t feel a single thing from a message. It’s so mechanical.
Even when I compare it to letters. There is something different in a letter. Handwritten with the flair, personality and individualism of their handwriting. My gran and nan kept every single letter I ever wrote them. Which I loved because they were all written with such love and if I think of letters I have received I can feel something in those that just doesn’t come across online. Call me old fashioned but I’m just being honest.
Just because you can see each other in a group doesn’t mean you are still connected together. Or maybe it’s just me?
I’m feeling like I want to exit one particular group. It has very little purpose for me now. I speak to nearly all the people within it individually to a greater or lesser extent. Closer to some than others.
I read it just to make sure people are ok. That feels like it’s one purpose. Peace of mind that they are all safe and well. I would always wish that for each and every one of them. Every single one of them.
When someone announces something I always reply individually rather than on group. I can only assume that others do the same. So then why all the joint responses. So that others know that you have responded? By responding you are still part of the group? Playing within the rules Everyone else can see that you are still in it?
I wonder if people assume that because you don’t respond on group that you haven’t spoken to that person or don’t care.
Does everyone need to know my response?
I’m so aware of my distance from what can feel superficial. It’s like I’m allergic to it.
So many rules to everything these days and who makes those rules up?
I think all those rules may be the reason I struggle so much with friendships that sit in the middle of strangers and close. It just all feels a little hard work without any substance.
So why do I not just remove myself from these what’s app groups. Because it feels like you are making a statement and I don’t want to. I guess easier to just have it on mute.
This morning I forgot I didn’t need to be at work until 11 so I’ve taken the opportunity to go to the caff opposite. I’m proper hank. I never got the chance to eat last night.
I’m sitting outside watching the world go by but it’s less croissants and expressos and more sausage sani and cup of Rosie. . I like both.
What’s interesting though on a lovely warm and sunny day like this is that despite the lack of glamorous surroundings and the cor blimey accents like my own there is very little difference.
I have a group of old fellas sitting next to me laughing and chatting about life. Saying hello to passers by that they recognise. Across the road is the beauty box. All pink chairs, mini red carpet and some sparkle from a giant chandelier I can see through the window.
They may not have Chanel and Christian Dior next door but they are there all smiley faced and welcoming to make the special ladies of this area feel beautiful. They may not turn up in designer wear but they have a design that is so much more special. I see it a lot round here beneath the outer packaging of primani. 100 per cent genuine. The fella next door commented that he was feeling a little gay with his man bag. Just a phrase. There’s no malice or offence meant in that. He’s just spent 10 minutes listening to his friend talking about his hospital appointment and throwing a few funnies back at him to lighten the mood. It needed lightening after the story of the person who died of sepsis. Blimey that’s a cheerful story ain’t it he said to me. You got anything a little more cheery? Something very sweet about this little band of brothers.
I laughed with them when some boy racer flew pass with an engine that sounded like it should have been at brands hatch but the exterior a little like the motors that used to do the circuit down Southend sea front when I was a kid selling doughnuts. Haha that always felt so glamorous to me at the time with the girls in their tiny body con dresses and high heels. Now there was an ambition I achieved. I was pretty fit back then and I became one of those for a while.
Anyways my main reason for this post was to talk of my night out with Miss L
Last night G was out. Her fella from Sweden is over and she asked if I might look out for Miss L.
Totally!!! But I felt like taking us both on a little adventure. I got the tube home, knocked back a glass of water, picked her up we were back out and on the tube into central London. A walk together along the river was my plan.
En route I thought that I would spontaneously shout out to my friend and see if she wanted to take her girls for a stroll too.
Pick me up on the way she said.
True to my friends way when I arrived she completely rolled over my plan with a brand new one. I had to laugh. Suffice to say that I never made it to the river but my friend who gave me the full details of the worst day of her life felt the benefit of miss L’s fluffiness. Funny how a bit of fluff can go a long way sometimes. And I think she needed it. As we sat in the same park from days of old and chatted about her world she gradually chilled and I felt she was so much better when I dropped her off. I think I got a brief 5 mins to tell her my news as we said goodbye 😊 I didn’t mind. I was feeling good and happy and not in need of anything other than an adventure in the sun with not my dog.
When we were kicked out at closing time we walked to the exit with 3 guys visiting from India. I can’t remember their names only the meanings smile, happy and 1 other I can’t remember but it felt a little like Snow Whites dwarves. They were so friendly. Smile said he thought my dog was pretty and I was like a Greek goddess.. I laughed so much. I could not be less Grecian goddess but I’ll take that I said. He asked about drinks. On my way home I said. They seemed like nice fellas. I hope they have fun on their trip.
Now I can chat to anyone when I’m out and about but miss L certainly is a bridge to that. The lovely student nurse I met on the way up there who couldn’t stop telling me about what her last couple of years had been. I loved her passion and care for what she was trying to be. I told her that if ever I’m in hospital I hope she is my nurse. She had such a lovely way to her. She said that no one talks on the tube anymore. It was really nice to chat. I then had a series of smilers and hellos as the tube filled up a little more. When I started walking around it felt like I had some hot guy by my side. Girls were looking to their boyfriends saying I want one of those.
I certainly didn’t look back thinking the same.
Every homeless man We passed was full of her. Telling me about the dogs they used to have for company or from their past. She did the cute and I did the chat and together we made them smile. That felt like a nice feeling for both of us. I would like to get more involved in stuff like that.
On the way home everyone wanted a piece of her. I said to one fella, she’s a little like a miniature love island contestant. Her head is very easily turned by someone new. We were laughing.
When we finally returned home at about 11 we were both knackered. She had some water and then immediately fell asleep in her bed.
I smiled at how together we had created something magical and then I too fell into the land of dreams.
Dreams of making life what I wish it to be.
Happy, Care Free and filled with Love. Simples!
Sometimes people say to me “ I thought about you when …”
What a lovely thing it is to be though about. And I find myself wondering, what did you think?
I think about people I love all the tine. They are on my mind in so many moments. I think ..They would love that, that would make them laugh.. no I can hear them laugh, what would they see,?, what would it be like if they were here with me, I wonder where they are? I hope they are happy.
I miss them. I love them.
I often think I spend more time actually thinking about those people than I actually spend with them.
Which has more value?
When they are right there in it with me or when I think of them.
When they are there It is shared and that memory belongs to both of us. A moment of magic that remains in me for all time. Will it be one of those moments that flash before my eyes in those last breaths i take as they say they do.
And then I think about those thoughts I have of others who are special to me. They will never be aware of those. They will never know of the beauty of their image coming to mind and being an important element of what that moment was. Sometimes it will make me smile or chuckle to myself in imagining them in it with me and other times it will fill me with sadness that they are not but ultimately they made it there in that small way. Or is it small? Of all the people that surround me it is generally the same people who come into my mind in special moments and that says so much about what they mean to me.
And yet they will never be aware that.
Even as I write this I have someone in my mind in seeing a blue sky through the gaps of strangers on the tube. Not a cloud in my sky and warmth enveloping me in the magic of both this life and what connects us as humans.
Beyond the real but held in thoughts.
Perhaps Im not completely out of sparkle yet…