*But I’m going to anyway
SELFIE LOL PREGGO INSPO
Easy with the hypocrisy, Alsopp. I will admit to using ‘LOL’ – mainly (actually, only) in Whatsapp conversations with Rach because holy crap she really DOES make me laugh out loud approximately 84890 times a week and typing out ‘good grief you are so funny I just laughed out loud’ all the time gets a tad dull. Even then, I like to think I’m being ironic. (I know. Loser.) But ‘selfie’ – NO. ‘Inspo’ – NO NO NO. Even ‘preggo’ with all it’s adorable and joy-filled associations, makes me squirmy. I think it’s because it’s an extension/development of text-speak, which I have never used. When my mum uses ‘u’ in a text instead of ‘you’, I won’t reply until she corrects herself, inevitably calling me an old woman in the process. It just makes my eyeballs want to jump out of my face.
Why, lovely readers? Where have these non-words come from and whyyyyyyyy are we using them? Why do they bother me so much and should I shut up? (Yes.) And what ones have I forgotten?
NB I totes overuse totes. Pot, this is kettle….
I have a perfectly pleasant, safe, solid, family-appropriate home. It’s in a good area, with excellent schools and brilliant transport links, it’s close to Phil’s work and there are loads of parks and a few decent shops within walking distance. I am very, very lucky.
We rent this house. I hate that. It’s funny, I didn’t mind renting at all when we lived in the beautiful little cottage in the idyllic village in the middle of nowhere. To buy the cottage would have been far outside of our financial capabilities, so it felt like renting was giving us this wonderful chance to live a picture perfect life we could otherwise have not experienced.
Then we moved. And I am still not in love with our home. I have days when I like it, so that’s good. But renting suddenly seems like a waste of money. It feels transient and temporary and expensive, despite the fact we’re saving far more money than we could living in the cottage. Maybe it’s not just leaving the cottage that’s done it? Maybe it’s having Stella and feeling the urge to put down roots? Renters – do you feel like this? How do I get out of this funk?
LOSING TOO MUCH WEIGHT AFTER HAVING A BABY
Do you want to punch me? Or are you rolling your eyes? Because I want to punch me and I roll my own eyes at myself whenever I bring this topic up. I don’t know why, exactly, but even though it something that bothers me hugely, I feel like I’m just being a Smug Sally if I do complain. ‘Oh, woe is me. I eat ALL THE THINGS and I’m still SO SKINNY.’ What a knobber.
It’s standard to worry and to talk about ‘baby weight’, as long as you’re talking about the weight that you can’t shift. No-one wants to hear about you how you lost all your baby weight and then some over a 12 week period. You’re a dick if you complain about that. (No -one has ever called me a dick, by the way. Except me.) But that is what happened to me, and I’m not happy about it. I hate it. It makes me miserable. I’m happy at about 10 1/2 stone, I’m now 9. I was fast approaching 14 stone when Stella was born… so yeah, I’ve lost a lot of weight. Too much.
I didn’t mean to lose any of it, by the way – apart from the actual baby bit, obviously. There was no plan, no diet, no exercise other than walking with the pram every day… my metabolism just went mental post-birth. I was my pre-birth weight when Stella was 3 months old and I thought quietly to myself, ‘gosh. I’m so LUCKY.’ and I stayed very quiet on the subject of ‘baby weight’ because how bloody annoying must I seem to all the new mums around me who didn’t feel quite themselves yet? But then the weight just kept falling off. My pre-pregnancy wardrobe that I’d been so excited to fit back into no longer sat properly. My collar and hip bones started to protrude, my mum and Phil started nagging me to eat more. And no matter what I eat, what portion sizes I scoff, how many servings or snacks I have, I cannot regain that extra weight that was never meant to go.
I’m tired of my clothes not fitting but I refuse to buy new, smaller ones. I hate the way I look, all I see is angles and hollows. My families anxiety about my diet and appearance is exhausting. And yet I never talk about it (apart from in WSS – see below) because I’m afraid of being shouted down. And because I also hate…
NEGATIVITY ON THE INTERNET*
*I KNOW. I’ve just spent 1000 words yacking on about my woes on the Internets. Bear with me, it should make sense.
This is a sweeping statement. It’s also the crux of this post/brain-dump, where it all started. I don’t mean it, not really – free speech and all that. I am responsible for what I read at the end of the day, so go forth and whine away – I am! What I really mean, I think, what I’m advocating, is a Whiny Safe Space. A Whiny Safe Space is a place to go, a person to talk to, where you can be 100% totally, brutally honest with no judgement. Sometimes, yes, Twitter or Instagram or whatever your social media of choice is IS that safe space; but, honestly, a lot of the time it isn’t. A lot of the time there’s a voice or voices out there who will hurt you, make you sad, make you doubt yourself or question the validity of your feelings – with Whiny Safe Space this just isn’t an issue. You say what you need to, your WSS partner nods, done.
I use WSS frequently, it’s made me unquestionably happier. I chuck up whatever it is that’s bothering me, give myself a shake and move on. It makes me less negative in social situations – in booth real and virtual life and so I feel lighter, more capable of getting on with my day or week or life in general.
But. Is WSS really better for me? Or am I cutting off my nose to spite my face? If I was more honest about my grumbles and issues and negativity in more open forums, would life be easier? This post is my experiment – getting my grumbles out there, seeing if it helps… What do you think, readers?