4th July 2013

“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”

Seneca

So on my flight back from the aforementioned trip, I was reading my book – nothing special, just some easy girly reading – and I randomly had a moment of thought. I’m not sure whether to call it a realisation, or an acceptance or maybe even a moment of enlightenment but I think my trip gave me the space to see that just because one part of my life is over, it doesn’t mean it has to be an ‘end’, rather just a small chapter leading to a new one. For me, finishing my second year and going on a year abroad will be a massive change – and one that I have felt uncertain about before – but this change now feels like less of a threat to me than it once did.

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3rd July 2013

“What is the fatal charm of Italy? What do we find there that can be found nowhere else? I believe it is a certain permission to be human, which other places, other countries, lost long ago.”

Erica Jong

I arrived back home today from 10 days exploring northern and central Italy and I had a truly fantastic time. For me, there is something so charming about Italy – perhaps it is the lifestyle or the people, but I find it easy to be there. I saw many beautiful things and tried a few new things as well and I think that those 10 days, in those beautiful places, with some good friends was exactly what I needed. Most of all, I am so pleased I managed to practice my spoken Italian; by the end of the trip, I was quite happy to speak to the locals in Italian even if my grammar wasn’t the best. Vita bella!

10th April 2013. Confessions of an adult drama queen.

“Don’t forget to love yourself.”

Soren Kierkegaard

So I have a feeling that this is going to be quite a confessional post. I’ve spent a while trying to work myself out. By a while, I mean a long time. I guess we all do it on a subconscious level – try to make sense of things, but recently I’ve made a concerted effort to try and figure out what is going on in this old head of mine. I’m aware that I’m already sounding a bit strange. I won’t blame you if you stop reading. The result: I am none the wiser.

There are things I know: I like to people please, I find it difficult to let people down. I get easily upset if something isn’t right in my personal relationships. I get angry if someone upsets a person I love (and usually hold an unspoken grudge against said someone.) I like to be in control. I like to plan. I don’t like to go with the flow, unless I know I’ll be going with the flow – I know, edging on weirdo. I realised I’m a bit of a romantic and I fall for things quickly and easily, whether they are people or ideas or books or food (especially food), you get the idea. I don’t tend to reveal much of what I feel unless I mean to. Once I start to care about something or someone, there usually isn’t much going back for me, and letting go of it becomes a long, hard process. I don’t like being given presents or being bought stuff. Yep, full blown weirdo. Don’t get me wrong, I like presents. I like stuff. But I don’t like the actual ‘being given’ part of these things (unless from my parents, they are allowed.)

There are things I don’t know: Why I instinctively mother nearly, almost everyone – even my own mother. Why sometimes I think so far ahead that I stress myself out. Why I only enjoy eating custard cold. Why I mentally attempt to cover all bases of possibility. I mean, that’s the reason I carry the world in my handbag. Antihistamines? Hand cream? A plaster? Yep I got it; I’ve got all of the things. Why I can handle a 2 hour train journey, but a 2 hour car journey feels like time never moves. Why I have days where I feel so out of my depth- which is silly, because I have every day covered: my handbag is stocked with everything, remember? Why, sometimes, if something goes wrong, it can feel like the world has imploded, even though the world is fine and I can usually be found cocooning in my duvet, feeling sorry for myself. Eventually, I wonder why I spend time thinking about these things and trying to work myself out – I can only ever really be what I’m going to be, correct? And I think perhaps the trick to figuring out some of the things I don’t know, is just accepting and embracing them. Maybe even loving them.

This was quite an honest post for me, and it was not easy to write. There are things I have not written about; they are more for my thoughts only. I think I am more comfortable having people who know me well read this. But to you strangers who stuck with me through that episode of rhetorical verbal diarrhea, I assure you I am (usually) sane and well.

28th March 2013

“When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable.” 

Madeleine L’Engle

I think a sense of vulnerability it something I’ve realised a lot and often recently. When I was little, I was always protected and looked after and sheltered from the big bad world out there. You never had to fight your own battles or solve your own problems and life was easy. I feel more vulnerable now than I ever did, which is why I think I personally constantly have my guards up and my walls built – I guess I just coped with the transition of independence into ‘adulthood’ a little less well than some. You try to stop potential hurt and pain- and it doesn’t always work! Vulnerability is something that I don’t think will go away, and its something that is going to take getting used to.