Milestones

One thing I hate about the way we’ve grown accustomed to living life is to measure it in milestones.

Birthdays, engagements, moving out, getting a job, getting married, having a baby…they’re all huge signposts in life that seem to be what most people strive for. However sometimes it becomes a little overwhelming and the small, more important milestones go by unnoticed by most people.

I wish there was a social media site for those with mental health problems where we could be brutally honest. Can you imagine the status updates?!

Got out of bed today. #winning

Didn’t die after making a phone call. #lifegoals

Managed to go the whole day without binging and purging. #gome

Wouldn’t it be great if we felt the freedom and courage to share such important milestones to everyone else? But it’s hard because to ‘everyone else’ getting out of bed or making a phone call or eating food and then not making themselves sick after it are things they do without even really thinking about it. They don’t see these things as milestones because they’re just normal, everyday occurrences for them.

Instead we have social media where people constantly aim to share their best lives…the best selfies, the coolest status updates about what they’re doing, pictures of an engagement ring, bragging about holidays booked, showing off their relationship, baby pictures…

And we all do it. I do it. I use my Facebook page to share my best life but it’s not a very accurate representation of my real life at all.

This time last year I was in a horrendous place. I couldn’t get out of bed in the mornings without panicking, I couldn’t leave my bedroom – even going to the toilet was enough to send me into a panic attack. I found it almost impossible to walk down the stairs and spend time downstairs in my house. I couldn’t have a bath; instead I’d have to quickly wash at the sink because it minimised the time I had to spend away from my safe place. I was going through an incredibly tough time.

When I compare that to now, I have achieved SO much. I get out of bed every day and get dressed. I can spend time anywhere in the house now without my anxiety become overwhelming. I have a bath every day. I spend time in the garden. Last Friday I went out to my nan and grandad’s house (over 20 minutes away) for dinner and I didn’t die. I’ve walked round the block a few times.

And in my world, in my small little Laura world, these things are fucking giant milestones. But the trouble is because they’re so small’ and insignificant to ‘most people’ in the world, they’re not seen as milestones at all. It’s all just me being lazy or still not having a job yet or not leaving the house.

Because I haven’t shared every single minute of my recovery on social media, people don’t know what I’ve managed to achieve in this past year. They don’t know that I’ve overcome suicidal thoughts,  that I’ve gone from being incredibly frightened to be in the same room as someone else to being comfortable in a room of eight or nine people, that having an hour long bath routine is an achievement after previously being too scared to even put a foot in the bath.

‘Normal’ people take having a bath for granted or not realising that being able to walk out their front door without fear is something I long to be able to do every day. No one congratulates them on doing it because it’s just not a big thing for most people. Whereas marriage and babies and holidays are…they’re the things that people share about their lives on the internet.

My therapist used to call it the compare and despair mechanism. I’d compare myself to someone on social media and despair that my life wasn’t like theirs. She used to tell me that nothing you see on social media is trustworthy. You know that what everyone shares are the best moments…the things they want to show off or get likes for or get validation about to make themselves feel better.

And it’s true. And a lot of the time it makes me wish I could delete Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and just live a stripped back, less technology dependant life. Wouldn’t it be amazing to just go back to speaking to people on the phone or via text when you needed them? Sharing news face to face instead of seeing it pop up on your timeline and ‘liking’ it.

The main reasons I don’t delete my accounts are

1. FOMO (because god forbid something happening that I don’t get to like or react to because I don’t have social media)

2. Communication (how will I be able to interact with friends I only have online? How can I talk to people about books I’ve loved or things I’ve enjoyed?)

And I hate that I’ve become so reliant on social media!!! I hate that I spend my life comparing myself to others. That I seek validation through the number of likes I get on a status update or a tweet. Why have I conditioned myself to care so much about what other people think about me? (I mean, this is a whole other topic!) Sorry I love a tangent.

But, in all seriousness, we need to stop feeling like we are failing because we are not hitting the milestones other people seem to be reaching before us. We each have our own story to write, our own path to take and we all move along it at different times and in a way that suits us. Just because three people have got married on Facebook this week alone, doesn’t mean that you managing to get dressed today isn’t an incredible milestone in itself.

So whenever I see gorgeous people getting married, shiny sparkly rings, baby scan photos, sandy white beaches and skinny bodies encased in expensive bikinis I know that these people are reaching their own milestones. And that’s awesome for them. But I’m also reaching my milestones and I’m growing and learning and getting better every day and that’s what’s important. So what if people think that my life is boring and I’m lazy and whatever crap they want to think…I know the truth, the struggles that I’ve managed to face and overcome. And I’m proud of myself for that.

And you should be too. You should be proud of all the milestones you manage to hit regardless of how silly they might sound to other people.

And, just to make you feel better here’s the Facebook update I’d love to publish right now:

Today was a mix of good and bad. I sat in the sun for most of the day reading a book but I also was really scared the sun was making my head too heavy and that it was going to make me collapse and die because it was so hot. And then I spent a good while overthinking a lot of things and wondering if actually I’m a good person and then I looked at myself in the mirror and thought ‘oh god, I’m gross’. Then I had a bath and got into bed and was going to do lots of productive writing but I was too lethargic to do anything so I just lie naked like a beached whale in front of a fan wondering if I’m living my best life. 

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I am worthy, I am beautiful, I am talented - and so are you.

I jumped around so many times trying to work out the best topic to talk about today before realising that the reason I didn't want to talk about the thing I originally decided to talk about is because I was downplaying the topic. In my mind it wasn't a worthy enough topic to talk about, which, ironically is more or less what the topic was. So I've decided to stick with my original topic and today I am here to talk to you about how I am incapable of hearing compliments and believing them.

I know we did a post similar to this as a group where our loved ones described us and we responded, you can find that here - but today I just wanted to talk about my experiences with this personally.

Recently it's becomming a more prominent part of my life as I have amazing friends in my life who compliment me on a daily basis. Whether it's saying how beautiful I am, how wonderful, amazing, creative or incredible I am. The words are said to me with heartfelt expressions that I should be able to accept. But often, I hear those words and wonder how could I possibly live up to that expectation? After all, I'm a failure. I'm barely keeping my head above water. I keep forgetting everything. I am a clutz. I'm ugly. I am just doing what I've always done. These are the thoughts that swirl around in my head. They tell me that I don't deserve compliments.

This is why when I get heartfelt compliments, I do one of two things. Sometimes I grin widely and get cocky. "Well, you know, that is because I AM awesome." - Or I get quiet and mumble thank you while trying not to cry. The problem of course, is that I don't think these things about myself even though I know, deep down, I should.

So when someone comes along and says something awful to me, instead of defending myself, I just nod and agree. As an example of this, somone has once told me that organising blog tours isn't difficult, it's just contacting bloggers and making a schedule right? To which I just nodded and agreed without defending the hard work and hours that I put into each and every tour I do. And it is a lot of work. It's finding bloggers, getting the schedules to fit, chasing content, collating information about the book for a media kit, e-mailing all the bloggers with all the information they need, tweeting and facebooking, chasing bloggers who haven't posted, collating more data, creating a graphic or two if that's necessary. It is hard work. It is stressful. It requires a lot of energy and passion. But instead of saying all of that, I just agreed. And I am certain the next time someone says it, I will still just agree.

And I wish that wasn't the way. I wish I had some sense of confidence in myself, and my abilities to defend my work, my personalitiy, my achievements.

Because I wish that of my friends too. I watch them deflect my compliments and it hurts so I can only imagine how it must feel when I do the same thing. I want them to be able to see how much they mean to me, how wonderful and truly brilliant I think they are and for them to truly understand that about themselves and to see it as truth. And if I want that for them, how could I not want that for myself?

I think the problem is that if you accept a compliment head on, you can seem conceited or arrogant. "Oh, YOU think you're amazing and wonderful do you?" and no one really wants to go too far. But I think confidence in yourself and your abilities is different from arrogance but somehow I just need to learn the balance. I need to be able to say to myself that I AM worthy, that I AM beautiful, that I AM talented.

And so I am going to try and say this to myself every day until it sticks. And if you too have issues believing in your self-worth, I would love it if you too did the same thing.

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How Loved Ones See Us

In general, people don’t see themselves very clearly. We put ourselves down, suffer with self-doubt, or just don’t think very highly of ourselves. But when this happens, our friends and family rally behind us, feeding us positivity and encouragement. This is because they can see us for who we truly are. They see us, whereas when we look at ourselves, it’s through the reflection of a distorted mirror, like at a funfair, that our negativity becomes.

For today’s group post, the friends and family of Jo, Jess, Faye and Ray will introduce you to the people they see, know and love, with our responses; compared to their description of us, how distorted is our view of ourselves? And how does it feel that these people they see are actually us?

Jo’s Best Friend Adam (who calls her Red due to her hair colour):

Red is a very close friend of mine. She's smart, funny and a lifelong reader. She loves the occasional drop or two of tequila. Always there if I need to rant a little, or a lot, and doesn't judge.
She's a cool geek and we can talk about everything from Doctor Who, to classic literature. She puts herself down a lot. But I suppose we all do. I've always thought she has no reason to, though. She's kind and loyal and I don't hold the fact that she's English against her [Jo: He’s Irish *eye roll*].
Mainly though, she's my friend. I trust her with anything. And I can't imagine life now without her in it.

Jo’s Reaction:

So I read what Adam wrote and mostly smiled. The tequila, the cool geek, the English comment. Things we've joked about quite often in our six year friendship. I was surprised to read I put myself down a lot. I actually thought I was doing pretty well in how I talk about and view myself. Perhaps I put myself down more than I actually realise, unconciously, without even thinking. Perhaps it's becoming habitual, that I don't even consider it putting myself down, and rather just something I do - or something that's not considered at all. That's really, really sad. I intend to be more aware of how I talk about myself, the words I use, and my thinking behind them. It might be hard, but I really think I need to do better.

But... that very last line made me pretty emotional. And I guess here is where I see Adam's point about me putting myself down, because, well, I've always considered that in our friendship, I benefit more than he does. I've had a tough time over the previous couple of years, and to be honest, I don't know how I would have got through them without leaning on Adam. I've leaned on him a lot. I've had a lot to cry and rant about, and a lot that scared me. It left me feeling our friendship was unbalanced, that Adam wasn't getting as much from me as I was from him. I put down my ability to be a friend, and although I knew Adam valued our friendship, I couldn't help worrying that maybe our friendship would peter out when he got tired of me leaning on him and having to hold me up. So reading that last line... it made me super happy, but there was this huge sense of relief. 'He does want to be my friend!' I thought. It sounds pathetic typing that (there I go again, eh?), but it's what I thought. I had no real reason to feel our friendship was rocky, but that last line reassured me of how solid our friendship is. But even without how I worried about our friendship, that last line is pretty amazing, huh? 

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Jess’ Best Friend Ray:

How do I even begin to describe Jess? Eight years ago we were two Twilight fangirls who started mutually stalking each other on various bookish threads and now here we are – best friends, soul twins, Threadsisters (ask me about that reference), two peas in a very weird pod who can’t imagine life anymore without the other. I could reel off an enormous list of superlatives that still wouldn’t cover who she is to me. Kind, generous, whip-smart, passionate like you wouldn’t believe, supportive, loyal like only a Hufflepuff can be, STRONG AS FUCK- I’m not messing she is cuddly and wonderful on the outside but ruffle this Hufflepuff’s feathers then you’re in some serious shit and you’ll know it.

Jess pours so much of herself into her work online and sometimes when doubt creeps in and makes her question whether all that time and effort is worth it, I want to snatch those thoughts away so they won’t bother her because she works incredibly hard and *so* many people love and appreciate her for what she does. She hauls me back up when I’m feeling crap and I do everything in my power to do the same for her. Jess will also boss me around like a long-serving spouse in such a way that I can’t ever get mad at her. Which she totally knows and is proud of because she is living that Hermione Granger life like a BOSS.

Jess – you know me better than I know myself half the time and I am endlessly awed by your magnificence. You are magic.

Jess’s Reaction:

Wow, reading this was very emotional and by the time I reached the end I had tears trickling down my cheeks. I’m going to have to get this printed out and framed to put in my bedroom so that I can look at it on days when I’m feeling sad or doubting myself. I think that what I love most about what Ray has shared is that as well as all of the good things she sees and loves about me, she also loves the not so great traits just as much (I am bossy as HELL) because they make me me, her best friend. It’s so nice to know that I have someone in my life who sees me so clearly and who loves all of me not just the good parts.

-----------------------------------   Faye’s Best Friend Michelle: 

I met Faye through twitter when I started my book blog at the end of 2014 and we have become good friends ever since. I feel like I have known Faye for years and years. All my life. This is a credit to her kind, caring and welcoming nature. I see Faye as loyal and loving to her friends and family. She is always there to listen and to give you a hug when you need it in real life or a virtual hug. Faye listens and gives good honest advice when needed. To me Faye’s smile and laugh brighten up any room and her snuggles make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I also know Faye in a professional capacity. She is organised and enthusiastic about everything she is involved with and her ideas are always bright and imaginative. I also see that sometimes Faye can lack confidence in the things she does, but everything she does is amazing so I am going to take this opportunity to say Faye, you are a brave and wonderful human being, believe this and carry on being you! I love you very much!

Faye’s Reaction: 

First of all, I have to say that this paragraph about me made me cry. Because I would never have said any of those things about myself. I know that I care deeply about others and that I’m loyal, it almost physically hurts when someone I love is hurting and there’s nothing I can do to help. But I would also say I’m hard to get along with, shut off from the world, and can be a very infuriating person. I also feel like I go over the top with enthusiasm and that my laugh and hyperness is annoying and I’m so self-conscious of how awful my laugh sounds. But I do admit, I love big bear hugs. She definitely has it right on about my professional self, I definitely lack confidence, and even as I read those compliments I am still sitting here doubting they’re true but appreciating that she sees me that way. Maybe one day I’ll believe that it’s true.

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Ray’s Boyfriend Mark:

Rachel is a person of two halves.

The first, a backseat driver. Happy to stay in bed late; put things off as long as possible; avoid responsibility whenever possible; and downplay her own achievements.

The second, a practical superwoman. She reads at the speed of light; is incredibly intelligent; absorbs knowledge like a basking lizard; and picks up new skills first try, aiming to master them instantly. She is incredibly empathetic to those in need around her, always ready to lend an ear and shouldering the burdens of others. She can be incredibly active; happy to go on long walks, camping, swimming, climbing (potentially) and generally open to wacky and wonderful activities such as indoor sky-diving.

Rachel's biggest flaw is that she has a tendency to leave her superwoman costume in the closet, happy to take the path of least resistance. With a little dusting of the costume she could achieve pretty much anything she could ever want. A little more confidence and faith in her abilities and she could have her own army of fans.

Ray’s Reaction: 

Hoo boy, there was a few emotions leaking from my eyes just then. Wow. I would be the first person to agree with everything in that first paragraph, there is no denying how much I love my sleep and if my tweets from the last year were used as evidence I’d be convicted of extreme procrastination in a heartbeat.
The second paragraph is what got me misty-eyed, I have never entertained the notion of me as some kind of superhero so having that said about me is incredibly moving although I have to work pretty damn hard to stifle that voice that seeks to deny every wonderful thing mentioned.
I’d like to try wearing that superwoman costume more often, I might just need a reminder every now and then that I still have it.

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I think all four of us learnt something about ourselves through this experience. How about you take the leap and ask how your loved one see you, too? If this is something you'd like to do, but feel nervous or don't know how to approach it, take a look at Danielle LaPorte's Ask-a-Friend Survey, and maybe send the questions on to someone who loves you. I hope you learn to see yourself in a better light, just like we did.

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My Year Without Self-Harm

Yesterday marked me reaching one year without self-harm. This is an anniversary that seemed distant for eleven months, overwhelmingly difficult for the entire twelve months, and yet I was determined to reach it. It’s not that a year is the longest I’ve ever managed. Nor can know for sure that I will never self-harm again. But it was important for me, as a personal kind of challenge, to be a year without incident by this summer. I set my mind to it and, no matter what occurred, and a lot has happened over that time, I didn’t want to use my usual methods to cope with it.

You may or may not struggle with self-harm. There may be other coping strategies you use that you find equally unhelpful, but familiar; whether that be overeating when stressed, retreating from the world when afraid or drinking to numb your emotions. I would like to share five things that have helped me stick to my promise of reaching my year’s milestone. I hope that, wherever you’re at, they can help you in some way too.

Count the moments, not the days.

I made the mistake, early on, of noting what date would signify my year without self-harming. Whilst this was helpful so that I knew where I was heading, it made it more difficult day-to-day. To know that I still had months to go was disheartening when I was struggling. To look to a date in the future also took away from the achievement of not self-harming on single, difficult days. If you’ve used a means of coping for a number of years, it becomes addictive and automatic. Therefore, it’s such an achievement when you manage a moment without it. This moment should be counted.

Do the opposite of what you want to do.

When everything in my mind was telling me that I needed to hurt myself, either as a means of coping with stress or as a way of “punishing” myself, the biggest way I could choose not to act on those thoughts was to do the very opposite of what they were telling me to do.

If I felt like I couldn’t cope with stress, I would continue to pursue what was making me anxious. Of course, that isn’t to say that if you genuinely don’t have the resources to manage, you should put yourself in impossible situations. But I know that stress often occurs for me in situations that are manageable, albeit difficult.

Secondly, if I want to punish myself or attack myself physically, the very best way of counteracting that is to do something nice for myself. If I have a tough therapy session, I’ll take myself to a coffee shop for coffee and cake. If I want to use my hands to damage my body, I will use them to paint my nails or rub in moisturiser. If I want to withdraw from positive opportunities, I will leave the house and intentionally find something I will enjoy.

Stepping back from the intensity of my emotions by acting opposite to them gives the space needed to find a helpful resolution and to consider alternative options. It tells my body that there are numerous ways of responding which don’t have to involve self-harm.

Ask if there is another way of seeing the situation.

I am prone to very black and white thinking. If I struggle to speak, I’m a “failure.” If life isn’t how I want it to be, I “need to die.” I think in extremes of good and bad, right and wrong. But the world is many shades of grey and filled with “fairly goods” and “not quite rights.” If you aim for a situation to go a certain way and it doesn’t, it’s easy to feel desperately disappointed. Rather than feel bogged down by that, I ask myself what could have made it better, what may have got in the way, and also consider what was positive about a situation.

I have had therapy sessions where I have been silent for thirty out of the sixty minutes. I get frustrated that I am losing time I could be utilising. I get angry at myself for not doing something so seemingly easy as speak. But if I have only been silent for thirty minutes, that’s still half an hour I used well and, if I manage to turn a session around at the end, that’s taken strength. Even if I’ve needed to write my therapist a letter explaining my prolonged silence, I’ve done something proactive and helpful. There is something positive to take from every situation. Therefore, just as there may be reasons, in my mind, to harm myself, there are reasons to treat myself kindly.

Remember that thoughts aren’t necessarily facts.

“I am a failure.” “I am better off dead.” “I always screw things up.” “Everyone hates me.” These are thoughts that enter my head on, probably, a daily basis and that make the temptation of self-harming all the more appealing. However, it doesn’t take many moments of talking to someone else about these thoughts before they begin challenging them. “What about the degree you gained?” “What about the goals you want to achieve?” “What about the success of your writing or artwork?” “What about your family?”

I treat every thought as if it is factual and accurate, and then respond accordingly. This isn’t helpful. I could have the thought that I’m a millionaire, but if I act as if that is true, I would have bailiffs on to me in a matter of days. Acting on our thoughts has consequences, so it is really important that we check the facts. Is what I am thinking based on evidence and fact? Or is it personal opinion and wishful thinking?

If I challenge my negative thoughts with alternatives, which are factual, there is lesser likelihood that I will want to self-harm. This isn’t to say that I don’t screw things up, but that there are times when I do things well, which deserve just as much attention in my thought-life.

Don’t use the past as a reflection of what your future will become.

There are numerous, substantial events from my years growing up that have a huge effect on how I feel about myself. I blame myself for situations in which I was the victim and I remember cruel words bullies and abusers said to me. I often think that is how my life will continue to look into the future, thus leaving me desperate and wanting to take it out on myself.

However, just because I have a past that is painful and people have hurt me, it doesn’t mean that my future will look the same. I get to decide what I’m worth and my actions demonstrate that to others. There is no way of knowing what difficulties any of us will face in the future, but that is independent of where we have come from. We can choose what we make of the years to come, the amount of value we place on ourselves and what we are willing to put up with from others.

I’m hopeful of another year without self-harm. Using the above methods has helped me immensely, as well as considering what the pros and cons of hurting myself would be. This is a day-to-day process for me, but it is possible to succeed. Every moment is worth counting.

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My Body, My Rules

I’ll call her Diane. I hadn’t seen her for two years. She’s in her mid-seventies and has been a family friend since I was 11 years old, though we’d never been close. When I bumped into her in a café recently, the first thing she said to me was, “Give us a hug.” With a new-found confidence and sense of worth, I refused. Whilst she soon left me, unhappy with my response, I felt empowered.

There’s a quote seen frequently on Instagram that says, “Be the person you needed when you were younger.” This person is different for each of us. Perhaps you needed someone who would take you seriously. Perhaps you needed someone to provide stability away from addiction and violence. There were two things that I needed: a voice and control over my own body. These are basic human rights that, as children, we may have lacked and that, as young women, we may even deny ourselves.

Violation of our bodies leaves a lingering mark. A decade after I stopped being sexually abused, a stranger sidled up to me and touched me inappropriately. I stayed silent. I told myself that one more incident wouldn’t make a difference, that other people had free reign over me and I just had to accept it. NO!

An older woman telling me to hug her may seem a world away from the secrecy of abuse, but the demanding of a physical action reignited the anxiety of that time. Thankfully, Instagram’s wisdom struck me, as I thought, “You don’t have to do this.” The powerlessness that I lacked as a child didn’t have to be a part of my adulthood. The voice silenced by men could be as loud as I asked it to be. This is what I now call My Body, My Rules. 

You can always say, “No.” Even if your voice shakes or you’re afraid of the response you’ll receive, you can say, “No.” I was aware that my refusal to give a hug could come across as stand-offish, but I also knew what self-respect I would gain from it. You don’t have to explain your response (“I don’t appreciate a hug being demanded from me as if it’s an obligation!”) as long as you know why you made it. It doesn’t have to be rape or inappropriate behaviour. You can question anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, I can’t change my past, nor, if it happened today, could I necessarily prevent abuse from reoccurring. Abusers aren’t focused on the desires of their victims and so a refusal would likely have no influence. But for the little girl who had no choice, I will still say, “I’m worth more than that.” For who I am today, a young woman with value and with dignity, I will say, “This isn’t okay for me.”

Our bodies are ours. It is okay to protect them. In fact, it is of paramount importance that we do. You are precious and one of a kind. Your rules. Always.

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Being an Introvert

Society is designed for extroverts. Whether it’s in the questions about what you’re doing with your Friday night, and the subsequent pitying looks when you say, “Reading… at home… alone” or the “You’re quiet” comments that emerge five minutes after meeting somebody, it soon becomes apparent that you need to be someone other than yourself. This is the message drummed into us from school. You should be forthcoming with answers, you should ask questions and you should make small talk. But what if that isn’t who you are? What if that isn’t even who you want to be?

I am content spending many hours of the day in my own company, whether that is at home or in any number of places outside. I would rather have a couple of friends I could always rely on than be surrounded by crowds of acquaintances. I enjoy spending a day sat in the quiet of a library or sitting by myself in a coffee shop that is heaving with people, as long as I'm not forced to interact. If I meet you for the first time, I will be the person who wants to know what makes you unique, what makes you tick, instead of talking about what was on television last night or what the weather forecast is.

It is only now, at the age of 28, that I am able to accept myself as an introvert. Instead of feeling deeply uncomfortable if I’m in a social situation and someone shouts, “Say something!” at me (it has been known!), I will acknowledge where my strength lies. I no longer believe that my introversion is “bad” and that it is a trait I should be ashamed of. I’m slowly building up the confidence to see myself positively and not as less of a person just because of my preferences. 

I may be the quietest person in the room and I may not want to introduce myself to lots of different people who are only going to have a passing role in my life. But when I do speak, it is because I believe what I’m saying may bring something to the conversation. When I ask to spend time with you, it is because I want to get to know you more and I am hopeful of a sustained relationship. When I’m with you, I listen to every word you say because I’m interested and willing to be informed.

I don’t like being the centre of attention and I would rather not have a day surrounded by lots of people whom I need to interact with. But I’m not anti-social and I don’t dislike people. I’m not stuck up; I don’t think I’m too important for the conversation you’re holding. I’m not simple or uninformed just because the thoughts in my head, silent to you, don’t escape through my mouth. 

Being alone teaches me so much. If I am able to keep myself motivated of my own accord, if I’m able to generate my own happiness, it means that I need never be afraid of having time by myself. I don’t want to become someone who needs others in order to live fully. Being alone doesn’t mean that I’m lonely. It means that I am at my most creative and most energised when in my own company, leaving me better placed to manage social situations as they arise. That said, introversion doesn’t automatically mean shyness. Those who are shy would like to be around people and engage in conversation, whilst introverts are content on their own. The presence of anxiety around socialising is what distinguishes the two.

We may always be surrounded by messages proclaiming extroversion as the personality trait we should attain, but we don’t have to listen. In our introversion - cloistered in libraries, quietly stood at the edge of a party, exploring the countryside by ourselves - we can be confident in who we are. We may not have thousands of Twitter followers or diaries full to bursting with social engagements, but we have much to offer and we have much to gain from the lives we lead. Surely that is what matters most?

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I'm a Bit of a Girl...

When watching a quiz show on television a few weeks ago, a question about boxing was asked. The female contestant looked dumbfounded and was quick to respond with, “I’m a bit of a girl.” Sadly, her response didn’t surprise me. In part, because I’m absolutely certain I’ve used it myself, but also because it’s a statement that goes unchallenged in many circles. This time, however, was the first time that I noticed my shock about the implications of such a comment.

“I’m a bit of a girl” is always used as a derogatory statement. Instead of claiming our femaleness as fact and observing the strengths that we each have, the comment is used as a put-down. It becomes about what you can’t do (“You run like a girl,” or “You throw like a girl”) and prescribes a set of subjects that you shouldn’t be expected to know anything about, in the case of this quiz show. But do we ever hear men saying their equivalent? Whilst claiming our status as women is so often seen as a declaration of weakness, manhood tends to be seen as the personification of strength and capability. If you cry, “you’re a girl,” is thrown as an insult because the sensitivity that we see as a positive when caring for others becomes a put-down if seen in the opposite sex.

If someone had turned to Nicola Adams, current Olympic, Commonwealth and European Boxing Champion, and told her that her womanhood automatically rendered her incapable of success as a boxer, her life would be radically different today. Yet her sport is the same sport that the quiz contestant claimed automatic ignorance about. I’ve overheard many conversations about sports and about careers, with people claiming that they’re not “very lady-like.” But is history really the best measure of what a woman should be? Perhaps we should be looking at what a woman could be.

The vast number of options available, from being doctors to electricians, playing rugby or badminton, demonstrates the vast spectrum of talents seen amongst men, surely showing that gender has very little to do with what we’re gifted at or what we enjoy. Opportunities, no doubt, are far more scarce for women in certain fields, beginning at school when PE lessons are divided into “girl” or “boy” sports. Only 9% of engineeringprofessionals in the UK are female, helped by 80% of Physics A-level students being male. This is despite there being no reason, biologically, why women can’t pursue this career path.

What we stereotype as being the male domain is kept off-limits, with our statements of “I’m a bit of a girl” being used as an excuse. We can’t keep succumbing to an “I shouldn’t know that” mindset and then expect to be provided with more opportunities. To confine individuals to lives guided by their x and y chromosomes, disregards the human capacity for learning and for achievement, whilst society doesn’t benefit from 50% of its inhabitants. If we, the people who so often speak of female empowerment, put ourselves down with our femaleness, we can’t expect others to do any different. It’s time to stand up and claim our place as women as the fact that it is. It’s not weakness, it’s not less. It just is.

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Because I'm Worth It

Over the last few weeks I've been noticing more and more that I put myself down.

I got invited to an event and the organiser replied to my emailed RSVP saying she was looking forward to seeing me and would save me a space in the front row. I thought "she doesn't mean it." about the looking forward to seeing me part, assuming she was just being polite. Then got part way through emailing her that I'd rather sit at the back in case my wheelchair blocked other people's view before I realised that was stupid and deleted it unsent.

An acquaintance said my blogs were really funny and I was a good writer. I should have just said thank you. I didn't believe them though so I was dismissive "oh it's nothing."

I was asked for my opinion on a project - option A or option B. I said what I thought and followed it up with "sorry, that's probably no help whatsoever."

My journalism tutor told me I'm doing well and am on track to pass the course. "You can't say that yet."

Recently a friend wrote on my facebook wall that he'd been wanting to call and congratulate me on a finished writing project (a group one that several people contributed to and I put together) but he assumed I was too busy to take his call. That made me laugh. It wasn't something to be congratulated on. It was just something I'd done. I commented back that he'd made me laugh. And he asked "why do you never believe me?"

Yeah. That made me stop.

I do put myself down often. I don't believe compliments I'm given. And I belittle my achievements.

It's crap. And I annoy myself each and every time I catch myself doing it.  I think (I hope) I'm probably more aware of my negative self talk since my friend called me out on it.

I would never talk to anyone else the way I talk to myself. I wouldn't ask for their opinion and then say it was "no help at all." And if someone else had told me I couldn't sit at the front in case my wheelchair blocked the view I'd have gone apeshit at them because it's not OK to talk to me like that.

So why do I act like it's OK to say those things to myself?

I'm now trying harder to catch myself before I say or think these things about myself but it's really hard.  They slip out before I can help myself much more often than I'd like.

But I do need to stop putting myself down and start believing in what others tell me.  My journalism tutor said I'm doing well because she's marked my work and knows I'm doing well. Same for being on track to pass.  The compliments about my blog being funny are because it made the reader laugh.  They aren't being polite, kind, or nice and it's not because they see my wheelchair and feel sorry for me.

It's because they believe it and  think I'm worth it and it's true. I need to keep repeating that even though it sounds silly to me until I believe it.

Because I AM worth it.

*L'oreal style hair swish*

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