Christmas for me really is the most wonderful time of the year. It's a period where you get to spend time with the people you love most, and where everyone is joyous. Earlier, I asked my younger brother when his favourite time of the entire year is, which for him is the best day to spend. He replied with "my birthday". I asked him why. He then told me that on his birthday, everyone sings happy birthday to him, and he gets presents and cake and there is a big celebration as he is the most important person at that time. I reflected on this. I understand where he is coming from - all 13 year olds love presents and cake, and everyone feels special on their birthday because their life is being celebrated. When I was younger, I probably would have said the exact same thing. Even now, I enjoy being wished happy birthday, having the phone ringing all day and having an excuse to have a party. But here's the thing about birthdays; the person being celebrated is the only one who is truly happy. Everyone else feigns being excited for them, but in actual fact it is just another day for many people, where they could be doing other things with their time other than fawning over this individual. The reason I don't like my birthday, or my brother's, is that every evening my mum goes upstairs to her room, and has a little weep. This isn't because she's angry, or we've done something to upset her. It's because each year we get a bit older, and a bit closer to the time where we will eventually pack our bags, leave home and start our own families. And this fact scares her. Of course on my birthday I am happy, but when she quietly leaves the room in the evening I know what she is thinking, and it makes me sad that she thinks it every year.
But Christmas is different. Firstly, you get a long build up in the early months of advent calenders, chocolates, shopping and decorating before the twelve days of Christmas are even on the horizon. Advent calenders for me and my brother are so exciting - our parents used 24 silver tin cans to make a Christmas tree, and in each day they put a little present for each of us. For example this morning I got a little Yankee candle votive, and yesterday my brother received a bracelet from Hollister. They're never large presents, just little tokens which get us in the mood for the big day. Decorations are another of my favourite parts of the run up, I've decorated my bedroom with paper chains, tinsel, fairy lights, bunting, candles and a little Christmas tree on my desk. Every evening when it gets dark, the blinds go down, the lights turn on and the candles are lit. The atmosphere really calms me down, and gets me in the festive mood.
Another reason why Christmas is wonderful is the food. So. Much. Food. You begin with a bigger breakfast than normal, we usually have bacon sandwiches or pancakes before we start opening presents. Christmas is also an excuse to eat chocolate at any time of the day, so there will always be a tin of Quality Streets or Roses on the table from which people nibble all day. And then mum will bring out the big one. Christmas lunch is the best thing to ever be invented - with helpings upon helpings of turkey, veg, roast potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, crackling and gravy. Absolutely divine. Then when you can't eat another morsel, puddings are brought out. Christmas pudding, mince pies, cakes, chocolates and gingerbread galore. More food than you could possibly eat, which is why on Boxing day lunch is a Christmas dinner sandwich and leftover pudding. You couldn't ask for anything better, really.
But shall I tell you the main reason why Christmas day is the best day of the year? It is because it is the one day where everyone around you is just as excited as you are, and you can partake in the festivities knowing that everyone in the room is content. And it makes me happy knowing that.
L xx
The song I have chosen for this post is my all time favourite Christmas tune, Fairytale of New York by The Pogues. Enjoy! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9jbdgZidu8
Sunday, 14 December 2014
Thursday, 20 November 2014
TRAVELLING AROUND THE WORLD???
What is the one thing that every 16 year old ever says when talking about a gap year?
"Yeah so in my gap year I'm going to travel around the world."
How many actually fulfill that desire? Not many.
The logistics of travelling the world, in a year, at 18 years old, don't quite add up. Many people forget to factor in the cost of flights, visas, insurance and all of the other extras that come with travelling. For this reason, many people don't end up travelling around the world, and twenty years later when they look back on their young adult life, it is the one thing they wish they had accomplished. When I tell people that next year I would like to travel the world, many of them shake their heads as if they are old, wise and knowledgeable about the inevitable downfall that will be my dreams next year. However this is where I am determined to prove them wrong. When I read blogs belonging to other people that are more successful, have more followers and have some sort of reputation, my eyes are consistently drawn to those advertising TRAVEL TRAVEL TRAVEL. The idea that I could combine two of my favourite pastimes; writing and sitting on a plane filled with excitement about where it is taking me, overwhelms me beyond belief. Furthermore - and at this I am jittery with exhilaration - some people even get paid for doing such a thing. I defy anyone who tells me this isn't the best job description in the entire world.
So this is what I am setting out to do. My idea in a tiny, tiny nutshell; work and build up a bank of savings, and then withdraw every penny and use it to travel to all of the places I want to most in the entire world. However here is where my plan differs from all the other naive 16 year olds - I will aim to write a post on a brand new travel blog for every single day I am away. That way, whether I end up getting noticed or not, I can do what I love for as long as I can and then use it when I get home to England to show people what I am capable of. Everyone I speak to tells me I'm either brave, idiotic, courageous, outlandish or simply stupid for going out on such a tiny limb, with not many places to jump to safety if I fall. If anything, these comments only spur on my enthusiasm. I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to try and spend as long as I can doing what I do best, and if it doesn't work out? Well then I can go back to being a lifeguard for a bit longer.
I have a quote on my bedroom wall that reads "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough." My dreams scare the pants off me, which surely means that it is the right thing to do, and I will regret it for the rest of my life if I don't go out on this limb.
I hope you will all support me.
L xx
Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2VCwBzGdPM
"Yeah so in my gap year I'm going to travel around the world."
How many actually fulfill that desire? Not many.
The logistics of travelling the world, in a year, at 18 years old, don't quite add up. Many people forget to factor in the cost of flights, visas, insurance and all of the other extras that come with travelling. For this reason, many people don't end up travelling around the world, and twenty years later when they look back on their young adult life, it is the one thing they wish they had accomplished. When I tell people that next year I would like to travel the world, many of them shake their heads as if they are old, wise and knowledgeable about the inevitable downfall that will be my dreams next year. However this is where I am determined to prove them wrong. When I read blogs belonging to other people that are more successful, have more followers and have some sort of reputation, my eyes are consistently drawn to those advertising TRAVEL TRAVEL TRAVEL. The idea that I could combine two of my favourite pastimes; writing and sitting on a plane filled with excitement about where it is taking me, overwhelms me beyond belief. Furthermore - and at this I am jittery with exhilaration - some people even get paid for doing such a thing. I defy anyone who tells me this isn't the best job description in the entire world.
So this is what I am setting out to do. My idea in a tiny, tiny nutshell; work and build up a bank of savings, and then withdraw every penny and use it to travel to all of the places I want to most in the entire world. However here is where my plan differs from all the other naive 16 year olds - I will aim to write a post on a brand new travel blog for every single day I am away. That way, whether I end up getting noticed or not, I can do what I love for as long as I can and then use it when I get home to England to show people what I am capable of. Everyone I speak to tells me I'm either brave, idiotic, courageous, outlandish or simply stupid for going out on such a tiny limb, with not many places to jump to safety if I fall. If anything, these comments only spur on my enthusiasm. I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to try and spend as long as I can doing what I do best, and if it doesn't work out? Well then I can go back to being a lifeguard for a bit longer.
I have a quote on my bedroom wall that reads "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough." My dreams scare the pants off me, which surely means that it is the right thing to do, and I will regret it for the rest of my life if I don't go out on this limb.
I hope you will all support me.
L xx
Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2VCwBzGdPM
Saturday, 4 October 2014
FEMINISM
The majority of people who see that word, that abstract noun, that collectivist term, would have similar immediate thought processes, involving at least two of the following phrases. "She probably doesn't shave and enjoys the feel of course hair scratching her underarms." "Man-hater; I expect she's a lesbian." "Oh she's one of those radicals who runs the streets naked professing her love of fresh air whistling past her bare boobs." I have encountered many such definitions, when in actual fact, the term is much more clear-cut. Feminism. A person who believes in the social, political and economic equality of the sexes. For me as an individual, I don't understand how there is a person in the world, male or female, who wouldn't identify as a feminist. And I am going to explain to you, as simply as I possibly can, why I am a feminist.
At 14 years old, I was walking home from school past a house which had building work taking place. Scaffolding surrounded the house, and many middle-aged men were stood on the scaffolding chatting, drinking coffee and laughing. It was here that I first experienced being objectified by a man. One of the builders lent over the railing and whistled at me, whilst another called "Oi Pete, what you would give for a piece of that ass!" At which they all laughed and began conversing among themselves. At the time, I was actually rather flattered by the comment, despite being from men old enough to be my father. However a few days later, I began thinking about what had been said. What gives those men the right to call me out on various parts of my body, embarrassing me and making me feel like a piece of meat to be analysed for its shape and aesthetics? Why is it okay for a man to objectify a woman, or young girl, but if women made those sorts of comments to boys they would be seen as vulgar and disgusting? At this point I began to google objectification, and sexism, and started to read blogs and forums where people (mainly female I hasten to add) discussed situations such as these. This is where I first encountered the term feminism. And I liked the notion of it, the notion of this small minority of women who wanted to change the majority opinion that women are weaker and less important than their male counterparts.
I encounter so many girls who say "I have all the rights I need. I can work the same jobs as men, I can vote, and I can drive cars according to the same laws as men. What else do I need?" And at this, I just sink in a sea of despair at how uneducated the majority of society is about gender equality. Because I feel that these people are missing crucial information they need to make that decision. For example, are they aware that in the UK this year, women still earn on average 15% less per hour than their male counterparts? That doesn't seem like much, but it adds up to over £5,000 per year that they are being deprived of. I wonder if these same girls have ever been subject to sexual harassment. I know I certainly have, and by this I don't mean violent abuse, like rape. I mean verbal harassment, which I receive most days when I'm walking around town. People don't even have to speak, I can see men walking past me looking me up and down, as if I am an animal at auction. Does this seem fair to you, that women endure this every single day, whereas men have no such worries? Does it bother you that if I am walking down a road in the dark, and I see a group of men walking in the opposite direction, I will purposely cross the road so I don't have to walk past them, for fear of being harassed? This is the sort of behaviour that I believe society needs to take measures to change. And it can be done. We just need enough people to see that males and females should be treated with equal respect, and evolution will run its course and change our the views of our patriarchal culture.
Thank you for reading this. I welcome any comments you may have.
L xx
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17hPCHLMpyM Beyoncé - Flawless
At 14 years old, I was walking home from school past a house which had building work taking place. Scaffolding surrounded the house, and many middle-aged men were stood on the scaffolding chatting, drinking coffee and laughing. It was here that I first experienced being objectified by a man. One of the builders lent over the railing and whistled at me, whilst another called "Oi Pete, what you would give for a piece of that ass!" At which they all laughed and began conversing among themselves. At the time, I was actually rather flattered by the comment, despite being from men old enough to be my father. However a few days later, I began thinking about what had been said. What gives those men the right to call me out on various parts of my body, embarrassing me and making me feel like a piece of meat to be analysed for its shape and aesthetics? Why is it okay for a man to objectify a woman, or young girl, but if women made those sorts of comments to boys they would be seen as vulgar and disgusting? At this point I began to google objectification, and sexism, and started to read blogs and forums where people (mainly female I hasten to add) discussed situations such as these. This is where I first encountered the term feminism. And I liked the notion of it, the notion of this small minority of women who wanted to change the majority opinion that women are weaker and less important than their male counterparts.
I encounter so many girls who say "I have all the rights I need. I can work the same jobs as men, I can vote, and I can drive cars according to the same laws as men. What else do I need?" And at this, I just sink in a sea of despair at how uneducated the majority of society is about gender equality. Because I feel that these people are missing crucial information they need to make that decision. For example, are they aware that in the UK this year, women still earn on average 15% less per hour than their male counterparts? That doesn't seem like much, but it adds up to over £5,000 per year that they are being deprived of. I wonder if these same girls have ever been subject to sexual harassment. I know I certainly have, and by this I don't mean violent abuse, like rape. I mean verbal harassment, which I receive most days when I'm walking around town. People don't even have to speak, I can see men walking past me looking me up and down, as if I am an animal at auction. Does this seem fair to you, that women endure this every single day, whereas men have no such worries? Does it bother you that if I am walking down a road in the dark, and I see a group of men walking in the opposite direction, I will purposely cross the road so I don't have to walk past them, for fear of being harassed? This is the sort of behaviour that I believe society needs to take measures to change. And it can be done. We just need enough people to see that males and females should be treated with equal respect, and evolution will run its course and change our the views of our patriarchal culture.
Thank you for reading this. I welcome any comments you may have.
L xx
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17hPCHLMpyM Beyoncé - Flawless
Saturday, 20 September 2014
THE FUTURE
The Future. My Future. Those words have been haunting my mind, and deciding my life choices, for the last few years. When I was younger, at around the age of 5, the answering phrase to the question "What would I like to be when I grow up?" was simple. "A doctor, so I can make people better. Also a vet, so I can stroke animals all day. And I want to write books because I really like making up stories." I knew exactly how I wanted my life to go, and I figured that it was simple to achieve. However as we grow and mature into children, and teenagers, we are told that we need to be "realistic" in deciding our future careers, and that we need certain skills to progress in our chosen profession, of which we can pick just one. So twelve year old Liberty sat down in her bedroom and began to think about what she really wanted from a career, because it's always an advantage to think ahead, right? She was already under the impression that she was a young lady, and definitely old enough to make a decision as important as what she wanted to do as a job for the rest of my life. She couldn't be a doctor, because you had to be good at science for that and she really didn't like science at all. A vet seemed a plausible option, but there would always be the part where you had to clean out rabbit cages and that didn't seem very hygienic to be doing for the rest of her life. So that left a writer. Well, she did enjoy Literacy, and Mrs Johnson said her stories were very interesting and she always seemed to write so much more than everyone else in the class. So, she spent the next few years content in the belief that her future was sorted.
When you start secondary school, you reach a point where you begin to be asked the same question. Except this time, you are expected to give serious answers, with a defined pathway in mind to reach your goal of that job which has been approved by your teacher. Gone were the aspiring astronauts, the prospective painters and the dozens of doctors. Instead, we had teachers, engineers, plumbers, journalists and businessmen. At this point, 16 year old Liberty (having decided that being a writer was a precarious profession and didn't count as a real job) was set on passing her GCSEs and A-Levels with flying colours in order to become a first-class psychologist. Yes, that counted as a realistic job - you had to be clever, go to university and get a degree, and I found psychology interesting which was an added bonus. So, having achieved all As and A*s at GCSE she chose a range of academic subjects to continue at AS Level.
In year 12, big decisions such as university and jobs come around very quickly, as you start to be invited to open days and events to help you make up your mind where you are going post-A Level. At this point, choosing red-brick universities which excelled in the field of psychology seemed a very valid option, so score-chart in tow, 17 year old Liberty ran off to Bath, Cardiff, Southampton, Birmingham and many more to see what university life would have in store for her. It was very exciting. And when it started getting towards the end of the academic year, she had all the answers ready. "Where would you like to go?" Somewhere in the top 20 for the subject would be ideal. "What would you like to do?" Psychology of course, "What would you like to do after university?" ........ Ah. Her plan hadn't accounted for that question. She had ruled out the option of becoming a world-class psychologist, because for that you needed many, many years at university, and that would cost a lot of money and not leave much time for anything exciting. And apart from that, there wasn't much else to do with a psychology degree. Her plan had been foiled, and now she didn't know what to do.
She spent the summer holidays worrying about exam results, starting year 13, and The Future. She was back to square one, which wasn't a good place to be with only one year of schooling left. So yet again, she began to think. She thought about what had consistently been her favourite thing to do at school. She thought about how university isn't the best option for everybody, and most importantly she thought about the career options she had discarded when she was younger. She spoke to her parents, to her teachers, to her friends, and she thought long and hard for weeks and weeks. Maybe psychology was not what she really wanted to do. What was the point of studying a subject for three years, and then not using it in her future career? Why waste three years at university, when you can spend that time experiencing the world, and what role you play in it. And suddenly it came to her, just like it did all those years ago. Writing! She wanted to be a writer. Of course.
So that is the next step in my life. Figuring out how to make this work, how to be successful, and how to do it while having an amazing time.
Stay tuned.
L xx
Avicii - Wake Me Up
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcrbM1l_BoI
When you start secondary school, you reach a point where you begin to be asked the same question. Except this time, you are expected to give serious answers, with a defined pathway in mind to reach your goal of that job which has been approved by your teacher. Gone were the aspiring astronauts, the prospective painters and the dozens of doctors. Instead, we had teachers, engineers, plumbers, journalists and businessmen. At this point, 16 year old Liberty (having decided that being a writer was a precarious profession and didn't count as a real job) was set on passing her GCSEs and A-Levels with flying colours in order to become a first-class psychologist. Yes, that counted as a realistic job - you had to be clever, go to university and get a degree, and I found psychology interesting which was an added bonus. So, having achieved all As and A*s at GCSE she chose a range of academic subjects to continue at AS Level.
In year 12, big decisions such as university and jobs come around very quickly, as you start to be invited to open days and events to help you make up your mind where you are going post-A Level. At this point, choosing red-brick universities which excelled in the field of psychology seemed a very valid option, so score-chart in tow, 17 year old Liberty ran off to Bath, Cardiff, Southampton, Birmingham and many more to see what university life would have in store for her. It was very exciting. And when it started getting towards the end of the academic year, she had all the answers ready. "Where would you like to go?" Somewhere in the top 20 for the subject would be ideal. "What would you like to do?" Psychology of course, "What would you like to do after university?" ........ Ah. Her plan hadn't accounted for that question. She had ruled out the option of becoming a world-class psychologist, because for that you needed many, many years at university, and that would cost a lot of money and not leave much time for anything exciting. And apart from that, there wasn't much else to do with a psychology degree. Her plan had been foiled, and now she didn't know what to do.
She spent the summer holidays worrying about exam results, starting year 13, and The Future. She was back to square one, which wasn't a good place to be with only one year of schooling left. So yet again, she began to think. She thought about what had consistently been her favourite thing to do at school. She thought about how university isn't the best option for everybody, and most importantly she thought about the career options she had discarded when she was younger. She spoke to her parents, to her teachers, to her friends, and she thought long and hard for weeks and weeks. Maybe psychology was not what she really wanted to do. What was the point of studying a subject for three years, and then not using it in her future career? Why waste three years at university, when you can spend that time experiencing the world, and what role you play in it. And suddenly it came to her, just like it did all those years ago. Writing! She wanted to be a writer. Of course.
So that is the next step in my life. Figuring out how to make this work, how to be successful, and how to do it while having an amazing time.
Stay tuned.
L xx
Avicii - Wake Me Up
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcrbM1l_BoI
Tuesday, 13 May 2014
WRITING A BOOK
As a child, one of my favourite things to do was to write stories. They could range from adventure stories, in which I was the daring, heroic protagonist, or later on in my childhood, poems proclaiming the love I felt for a boy in the year 5 class. Whatever the subject matter, my teachers would read it and say "Liberty, you have an excellent imagination. I could see you becoming a writer some day." Well, I read a lot of books and I decided that despite my love of literature, I would be an inept author, primarily due to my lack of concentration. However recently I have realised that writing a book doesn't necessarily have to be a full time profession. So my most recent epiphany is that I could maybe begin to write a book, or novel, just if I have a spare half an hour here or there between exams. It probably wouldn't end up anywhere, and in most likeliness wouldn't even make it from my computer documents. However despite this, I think I may have a go. Just for something to enjoy, and to take my mind off of A Levels and exams.
What do you think? Should I have a go?
L xx
What do you think? Should I have a go?
L xx
Wednesday, 26 March 2014
RACE FOR LIFE - JUSTGIVING.COM
Recently me and my best friend were discussing the art of fundraising, sponsorship and donating. We have decided that our aim this summer is to raise as much money as we can for various charities supporting a variety of things. Already, we have taken our first step towards this goal, and we, along with another friend, have signed up to take part in the Race For Life in support of Cancer Research UK. We want to raise as much money as possible for this charity as it is one very close to my heart, and to do this we have set up a page on justgiving.com so that donating is made easier.
I don't know how many people actually read my blog, but if you are, donating 50p, £1, or even £5 would make such a difference and we would be so grateful. The link is below, this is for an amazing cause and each and every donation brings the day cancer is eradicated closer and closer.
http://www.justgiving.com/mystery-pink
Thank you, I love you all.
L xx
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=an4ySOlsUMY Ellie Goulding - How Long Will I Love You
Friday, 14 March 2014
WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE NOTHING
Have you ever felt like no one understands you? Like you are alone with nothing but your thoughts for company? Like you are an imperfection? I feel like this frequently. In fact, yesterday I had my parents' evening, which normally isn't a problem. I go in, get told that I am doing well/not so well/rubbish, and then we leave. But when me and my mum were sat in front of my psychology teacher, she opened with something I wasn't expecting, and quite frankly, scared me. She said "Liberty, I am worried about you." Now when people ask me if I am okay I have always maintained that I am fine, nothing is wrong, no need to worry. And that has always been fine - I hide my feelings away and people accept that I am feeling positive. But when this teacher tells me that - in a room with 20 other people, no less - she is worried about me? That scared me.
It's not like I am majorly depressed, or have a disorder, or am abnormal in any way. It is just that occasionally I get these unwelcome negative thoughts, and I just feel...well...shit. I have had a lot of things I have found hard to deal with over the last few years, one of which is my mum suffering from breast cancer. Originally I dealt with this with a manner of acceptance, she has cancer but it's okay because she'll have surgery and radiotherapy, and get better. Which she did. It is only now that I hear about cancer, such as in lessons, Biology to be exact, and I get kind of emotional. I have never really been an emotional person, but recently the slightest thing can set me off, and I will sob for hours on end. Now I've sort of gone on a tangent to what I originally intended to talk about, instead I've just ranted about my life. We all have moments where we feel like rubbish, and we don't feel like we deserve to be welcomed by society. Maybe I have more of these feelings than most, but it is just part of being a female teenager.
For me, the worst part was when after my parents evening, my mum asked me what was going on. She is amazing, and I love her to pieces, but recently our relationship has been steadily going downhill, due to the fact that she is very active in making sure that I am revising for my A-Levels every minute of the day. I had been keeping these thoughts from her because I didn't feel like I had a good enough relationship with her to share this with her, but also because I didn't want to worry her. However when she asked me about it, I just broke down. I cried for a very long time, with her sat on the end of my bed asking me what was happening, and what she could do to help. She even suggested getting a councillor to talk to. Even after all this, I still didn't feel I could justify to her why I was feeling like I was, and I think that by not telling her, I have hurt her, deep down. And I feel terrible, but I still can't find the words to explain what is happening inside me. Does this make me a bad daughter? I don't know, but I'm just hoping that I will either begin to feel more like my old self soon, or find the words to tell her. That is quite ironic. I write a blog, and yet I can't speak to my own mother. But, to quote Goodnight Mister Tom, "Everything in its own time". Eventually I will be able to speak to her as I once could, and until then, repairing our relationship is all I can do.
If you have read until the end, thank you, I appreciate it more than you can imagine. I don't write this blog in order to get views and followers, I write it because if I didn't then I would never let go of any of my emotions, and they would just fill my head until there is no room for anything else. So thank you, I love you all.
L xx
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXnolqF3veE Tich - Little By Little
It's not like I am majorly depressed, or have a disorder, or am abnormal in any way. It is just that occasionally I get these unwelcome negative thoughts, and I just feel...well...shit. I have had a lot of things I have found hard to deal with over the last few years, one of which is my mum suffering from breast cancer. Originally I dealt with this with a manner of acceptance, she has cancer but it's okay because she'll have surgery and radiotherapy, and get better. Which she did. It is only now that I hear about cancer, such as in lessons, Biology to be exact, and I get kind of emotional. I have never really been an emotional person, but recently the slightest thing can set me off, and I will sob for hours on end. Now I've sort of gone on a tangent to what I originally intended to talk about, instead I've just ranted about my life. We all have moments where we feel like rubbish, and we don't feel like we deserve to be welcomed by society. Maybe I have more of these feelings than most, but it is just part of being a female teenager.
For me, the worst part was when after my parents evening, my mum asked me what was going on. She is amazing, and I love her to pieces, but recently our relationship has been steadily going downhill, due to the fact that she is very active in making sure that I am revising for my A-Levels every minute of the day. I had been keeping these thoughts from her because I didn't feel like I had a good enough relationship with her to share this with her, but also because I didn't want to worry her. However when she asked me about it, I just broke down. I cried for a very long time, with her sat on the end of my bed asking me what was happening, and what she could do to help. She even suggested getting a councillor to talk to. Even after all this, I still didn't feel I could justify to her why I was feeling like I was, and I think that by not telling her, I have hurt her, deep down. And I feel terrible, but I still can't find the words to explain what is happening inside me. Does this make me a bad daughter? I don't know, but I'm just hoping that I will either begin to feel more like my old self soon, or find the words to tell her. That is quite ironic. I write a blog, and yet I can't speak to my own mother. But, to quote Goodnight Mister Tom, "Everything in its own time". Eventually I will be able to speak to her as I once could, and until then, repairing our relationship is all I can do.
If you have read until the end, thank you, I appreciate it more than you can imagine. I don't write this blog in order to get views and followers, I write it because if I didn't then I would never let go of any of my emotions, and they would just fill my head until there is no room for anything else. So thank you, I love you all.
L xx
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXnolqF3veE Tich - Little By Little
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