women

Body image: Why we shouldn’t feel ashamed when we change

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Body image: Why we shouldn't feel ashamed when we changeWhen I was first pregnant I found myself automatically apologising to my husband for the fact that my body would change.

And this is weird on several levels. Firstly, OF COURSE it’s going to change. How could you grow a new person within your own body without needing to make a little room?

Secondly, I didn’t do this on my own. I’m not going to draw you a picture but getting pregnant is very much a two person job and one we did on purpose. So, actually, I haven’t changed my body, we have.

And thirdly, why would a physical change require an apology anyway? Changing is what bodies do. We get older, we do varying levels of exercise, we experiment with the volume of Nobbly Bobbly ice creams we can consume during the summer months… We change together and support each other as we go.

But nonetheless, the instinct to apologise was there. He required no such thing, of course, because he’s not a dickhead, but this wasn’t really about him, anyway. It was about how I perceived myself, my own body image, and how we all respond to change, particularly when it occurs in women.

Several people have felt compelled to reassure me that ‘You can hardly tell you’re pregnant at all!’ or ‘Don’t worry, you’re wearing it well’ or ‘It’s OK because it’s just on your tummy and not on your face or anything’.

And it’s so strange because I’d be fine with it spreading anywhere it needs to go. I want people to be able to tell. A child is growing in here and I am happy to look however I need to keep us both safe.

When people say these things, I’m not even sure they know what they mean, only that, for the most part, they mean well. But I think it would be better for everyone if we stopped. There’s no need to panic. Bodies change and that’s OK.

Weight can, of course, be a huge trigger for insecurity, just like any other element of our appearance or lives. And I’m sure that many people who make these comments are just keen to keep everybody feeling good during such a gruelling process.

Body image: Why we shouldn't feel ashamed when we changeBut we mustn’t normalise the idea that a woman’s body changing is a bad thing. Because it isn’t.

What matters is how a person feels and that they’re healthy. And a positive status in both these areas looks very different from person to person. My healthy and your healthy, and my happy and your happy, no doubt do not look the same. And yours is absolutely none of my business.

Before I figured out that I was struggling with anxiety, I was often a little underweight. Nothing drastic but it was a side effect. When I look at my wedding pictures, I can see that although I’m happy in our relationship, I had some serious personal work to do. And since I’ve done that, I’ve had a steadier, healthier weight, which has involved getting a bit bigger, and that is a good thing.

I found it alarming that my instinct when I got pregnant was to say sorry for the changes my body would go through. That I felt the need to clarify whether my husband would manage to find me attractive during this time. (I am a constant source of Cadbury snacks right now – what could be more alluring than that?)

But I caught myself just in time and do not apologise any more. I am instead trying to enjoy this process, as much as the exhaustion/crying fits/surprise nausea will allow, anyway. Because this is a journey to something I want, so I wouldn’t have it any other way.

If we want to live in a world that’s kinder to women’s bodies, we have to start being kinder to ourselves. 

We need to be more honest about what’s fuelling our thoughts. Are you apologising for your weight/look/whatever because you have done something wrong? Or because you’re afraid that if you don’t, somebody else will suggest that you should?

Because, you know what? That is one risk you can afford to take. Because anybody who suggests that is wrong. And they should be the one to say they’re sorry.

Emerald Street Literary Festival: 8 writing tips from great female writers

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IMG-20160530-WA0017Another weekend, another lovely event about writing, and another blog post to tell you what I learnt.

This time it was the Emerald Street Literary Festival in London. After a hard week and yet another mighty migraine doing its best to keep me indoors, I was very close to just bailing all together and staying at home in the dark. I am so glad I didn’t. The very first session was a panel chat between writers Kate Mosse, Cynthia Bond, Elizabeth McKenzie and Lisa McInerney. And it was lovely.

They talked about the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction (which Lisa just won), about the importance of female spaces in literature, and about writing in general. It was exactly what I needed. I burst into tears at one point. Partly because I was exhausted, and partly because it was just so nice to hear such reassuring words from such successful authors.

So that I remember them forever, and others can benefit too, I’ve written down the range of tips they shared.

1.If a story has made its way into your mind and your heart, it’s your responsibility to tell that story – It certainly feels that way. The compulsion to write doesn’t come from wanting to write just anything, it’s about needing to write what you have to say. About not being able to feel comfortable until it’s out there. And now that I know that it’s my responsibility to do it, well, what choice do I have?!

2. If it helps, pretend nobody will ever read it – If you’re nervous about writing exactly what you have to say, pretend you’re just doing it for you. That’ll set you free to write what you want to write, and then, when it’s all down on the page, you can tackle the idea of somebody else actually reading it.

3. If you’re going to have work published, either get a thick skin or crumble – If you want people to read your work, you need to know that some people will love it and some people will not. So you either have to suck that up, or prepare to break. I have only ever received one round of nasty comments on this blog and I will remember it for the rest of my life – but if they thought it was going to stop me writing, they were wrong.

4. Stop feeling guilty for writing, it’s what you’re supposed to be doing – This is the one that made me cry. Lisa McInerney said that if she could go back in time, this is what she would say to herself. It really meant a lot to hear it. I feel guilty when I’m writing and not being sociable or fun or doing my washing. And I feel guilty when I’m not writing because I’m tired or need a break or am suddenly empty of ideas. I think I cried because I felt like I was being given permission to stop feeling this way. Absolutely nobody I care about has ever suggested that I should feel guilty – I’ve made it up all by myself – so this is where that ends.

5. If you want to actually finish writing something, you have to develop a talent for keeping your butt in a chair – So obvious and yet so difficult. I’m excellent at this when a new series of Orange is the New Black is released (FRIDAY!), or there’s a bag of chocolate covered raisins that need my attention, but when I have writing to do, all of a sudden I want to move around. I’m walking back and forth to the fridge, I’m tidying my underwear drawer, and I’m changing the bed – like anybody ever actually wants to do that. As I’ve written before, setting an egg timer is the only thing that can keep me at my desk for a useful period of time. But if you have any other tips I would love to hear them.

6. Imagine your future self walking by and saying KEEP GOING – I like this idea. The only person you really have to answer to is yourself anyway and I can’t imagine, whatever happens in the future, that I’ll ever wish I’d just never bothered trying. I shall now spend my procrastination time imagining my future self popping by for a spot of cheerleading time. Anything that drags me away from the fridge has got to be worth a try…

7. There are times when things will seem hopeless and you’ll think WHY AM I DOING THIS but you can make it work. Trust in that – When I think about it, I know that I have never not been able to find a way to write a sentence that I was struggling with (ironically, this particular sentence took me ages). It might have taken me hours, a few temper tantrums, and a hell of a lot of Cadbury’s but I’ve got there. And yet every time I come up against something tricky, I forget this and commence meltdown. Remember this, friends: everybody struggles. You just have to decide whether you want it enough to make it work, in which case you’ll just need to keep trying until it’s done. (I suggest having the odd scream into a pillow to help you along the way).

8. The quality of a book is about the stuff that isn’t in it, not the stuff that is – Well, thank goodness for that. I am in the very very very early stages of attempting to write some fiction and I already know that if it’s going to be any good at all, most of the stuff I have written so far is going to have to go in the bin. But it sounds like that’s how it starts for everyone so I feel a lot better about it now. And I’m also applying Tip 2 to my writing process at the moment anyway so seeing as nobody’s ever going to read it, I really don’t need to worry…

23 unspoken promises behind every great female friendship

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20151112_1429231.That neither of us will ever say “I really shouldn’t” when the dessert menu comes and let that stop us ordering something.

2. That you’ll never mention it when I show up in a piece of clothing that clearly should have been ironed. I know it, you know it, but I just couldn’t be arsed, OK?

3. That wherever we are and whatever we’re doing, cake will always be an appropriate snack.

4. That if one of us fails to get the job or the boyfriend or the house that we wanted, the other will provide the required dose of IT’S THEIR LOSS ANYWAY, BABE, YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER to restore our faith in humanity.

5. That whatever it is, you can tell me.

6. That you’ll smile and nod when I start talking about the level to which it is currently KICKING OFF in Coronation Street [or enter your own televisual favourite here] – despite not watching, caring, or wishing to hear a single detail more about it.

7. That if there is something on my face that shouldn’t be there, you will tell me STRAIGHT AWAY.

8. That I will always let you finish having a well-earned moan before I start to explain why things really aren’t that bad.

9. That if I’m being a dick, you’ll let me know. And that I’ll have the courage to do the same.

10. That when you ask me how ‘following my dreams’ is going, you’re prepared for a long and emotional response.

11. That when I cry at your wedding/birthday party/leaving do, you’ll be kind enough to lie and say that nobody noticed.

12. That we’ll run all photographic evidence of a night out that involved dancing passed each other before uploading it to social media.

13. That we can discuss the highs and lows of having bodies, bowels and brains without embarrassment. There’s no room for shame between friends.

14. That I may not have the required skirt, hair, or ability to kick my legs more than two inches above the ground, but I will be your cheerleader for life.

15. That ‘because I was planning to spend today doing absolutely nothing’ is a perfectly reasonable response to the suggestion of a get together. Everybody needs their space.

16. That I won’t let you walk around with food all over your top. I can’t promise I’ll always have a replacement on me, but I will dab the hell out of that stain like any good friend should.

17. That we won’t feel the need to beat each other around the head with our mistakes – but just to slowly place them under the other person’s eyes if it looks like they might accidentally start walking down that road again.

18. That a ‘What are you wearing tonight?’ text message sent ahead of an evening out will always receive a thorough response to ease the nerves of the woman who sent it (who is no doubt currently on her knees in front of her wardrobe and claiming she has so few clothes that she may as well just cut three holes in a bin bag and wear that etc.).

19. That we’ll both just pretend not to notice what happens to our hair in hot weather.

20. That you understand that when I buy a bag of Percy Pigs, it’s because I want to eat every single one of them. Best get your own packet, yeah?

21. That if you choose to spend your life with someone, I will not let you settle for anything less than the superhero you deserve.

22. That we’ll put the necessary effort in to making sure we’re still friends when we’re old and grey.

23. And that you’ll be kind enough not to mention that I am already both of those things.

 

Body image: Be careful with your words

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20151112_101751After a week of activities celebrating all things International Women’s Day, one issue has stood out for me above all the rest.

Now this is a tricky statement – there’s a lot of stuff we need to put right, a lot standing between us and equality – and I’m not saying one thing matters more than another. I’m just saying that one topic that kept arising over and over again has really stuck in my mind and made me want to do something about it.

And that is: body image.

I went to see Caitlin Moran on Tuesday night (and wrote about it afterwards). I went to a brilliant event for UCL Women’s Day on Wednesday called ‘What’s funny about Everyday Sexism?’ and heard from the very funny and very wise Cally Beaton, Luisa Omielan and Laura Bates. And then this weekend I’ve been to more of the Women of the World Festival (WOW) at the Southbank Centre. (Yes I am quite tired now.)

And every single time, body image came up in a big way.

The way women and girls see themselves.

The inability so many of us have to just accept a compliment.

The level to which we – from a frighteningly young age – want to change the way we look, lose weight, be ‘prettier’.

The perception that ‘pretty’ means ‘successful’.

The terrifying damage that feeling we don’t look ‘right’ can do to our minds, our lives, our bodies.

The relentless apologising we do for our legs, our stomachs, our flesh.

The words so many of us use to describe ourselves – always caveated, mocking, self-deprecating.

The need for all of this to stop.

There are two short videos that you should watch on this subject:

At WOW, Radio 1 DJ and all-round excellent female Gemma Cairney showed a film she made for the festival last year. She’d been around the country speaking to young girls about the issues affecting them. It broke my heart.

Stand-up comedian Luisa Omielan does an amazing routine about the ridiculous way women speak about their bodies and why it needs to change. This woman is hilarious, wise as hell AND on YouTube.

We all know this is a big issue but it’s only when you see it on this scale, on this kind of stage that we realise how widespread it is and how urgently we need to make a change.

20160227_160954I’ve written before about my own inability to take a compliment without making a joke. This remains a struggle. Partly because I enjoy making bad jokes more than I should, and partly because I’m genuinely just too embarrassed to say “Thank you. I chose this outfit/hair cut/pair of gold polka dot brogues on purpose and I stand by that decision.” After this week, I am going to get better at this.

Because not only is it important for my own happiness, confidence, and basic good manners, it’s important for all of us. We need to be careful with our words. The more we hear people putting themselves down, the more we think that’s what we all have to do, that it’s the polite way to speak about our bodies.

The more we stand in front of the mirror next to a friend saying ‘OH MY GOD I LOOK LIKE AN ACTUAL BAG OF RUBBISH. I SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED OUTSIDE!’ the more they’re going to respond with ‘YOU LOOK LIKE RUBBISH? I LOOK LIKE A BANANA THAT’S BEEN TRAVELLING AROUND IN SOMEONE’S HANDBAG FOR A WEEK – JUST A MESS!’

Seriously, why is this a thing?

There is much to be done about what other people expect from women in terms of our appearance – about the way we’re represented, about what we’re all taught about how women and girls supposedly should look.

But starting with the way we talk about our own bodies and those of our friends and peers is most definitely a good place to start.

Because if we all stop saying the bad things, eventually we’ll stop hearing them.

And if we all stop hearing them, then perhaps we’ll stop believing them.

And if we all stop believing them, the better prepared we’ll be to take on anyone who dares suggest that we should be anything other than just the way we are.

Life lessons from Caitlin Moran: Give yourself permission

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Caitlin Moran - Moranifesto, Southbank CentreI’ve mentioned before just how much I love funny, female writers, so of course I’m a big fan of Caitlin Moran. Seeing her speak at the Southbank Centre was a perfect way to celebrate International Women’s Day. I absolutely loved it.

I always get so much out of hearing from my heroes so I wanted to write down the top four lessons I took away from last night because – who knows – you might find them useful too:

1. You don’t have to know everything about a subject to be able to talk about it; and 2. It’s OK – you can be serious and funny at the same time

Well, thank goodness for that. Caitlin came to talk about her new book Moranifesto in which she talks about the state of the world. She says she didn’t used to think she was allowed to talk about politics – that it was a subject reserved for grown ups and that you had to be an expert to justify having a say. But then she realised that was simply not true.

I can relate to this feeling. A friend told me a few years ago that every time I’d start to say something at work, I would open with a few qualifying sentences – to make it clear that I wasn’t an expert on the subject or that I may be wrong or that somebody else could easily have already thought of what I was about to say. And it was totally true – I just wasn’t confident that I had the right to have a voice. I really try not to do that now. You have to believe that you are worth hearing.

Caitlin also discussed how it’s OK to talk about politics in both a serious and funny way. If you want to throw a joke in, do it. She spoke about how she had to give herself permission to do just that, and that we mustn’t let people tell us how to talk about it. We all have something to offer.

I was very pleased to hear this as no matter what I’m writing or chatting about, I cannot help but chuck a bit of humour in. I like to talk about serious things, to put out there how I feel about something or someone, but then I also like to make jokes too because it’s simply who I am. It’s nice to know from somebody so successful that doing that is OK, that our points are still valid. I am officially giving myself permission to make crap jokes forever now. Hurrah!

3. Look how you want to look

If you’re familiar with Caitlin Moran, you’ll know she’s a big fan of pulling what she calls her ‘muppet face’. But she told us last night that she gets a lot of stick for it. That people write in to say she should make a more sensible expression in pictures. Well, I disagree. And thankfully so does she. She says she makes those faces because it makes her happy, and because when a woman tries to look attractive in photographs, she is immediately compared to every other woman doing the same thing, and she doesn’t want to take part in that ridiculous competition.

I am totally with her on this. I have spent an embarrassing amount of my time worrying about how I look compared to other people. And by the time you get to 30, you actually have a pretty good idea. I know what to do with my face to look how I want to look in a photograph and that if I’m caught doing anything else, I will look either miserable, mad or a perfect combination of the two. I too have made a decision about my photo faces and whether you like it or not, they’re the ones I’m going with.

And FYI, for those in pursuit of a good time, I’d recommend a muppet face over a pout any day of the week.

4. We need more honest depictions of what it’s actually like to be a woman

Caitlin spoke about watching TV and reading magazines when she was younger and just not seeing herself represented. Not seeing words and stories about women which she could look at and say – yes, that’s me. And I know exactly what she means. It is a rare treat to come across a book or an article that really feels like an honest reflection of what it’s like to be a woman. It’s why work by Lena Dunham, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Bridget Christie, Caitlin Moran and co. are all so important – because they have all found ways to speak about what it really feels like to be women and to reassure us that it’s totally normal to find it hard.

I try to do this with the things I write too. I love writing about the trivialities of being a woman, the immense humour in it, the precious relationships we have with one another, and the difference between what we think we’re supposed to be versus what we actually are. I am more inspired than ever to keep doing just that.

There was so much more to last night but in the interests of word count, I will stop now. I am so very excited to read Moranifesto and all the hundreds of other lessons I’m sure are waiting for me in there.

Thanks Caitlin Moran, Women of the World Festival and the Southbank Centre for a great evening. If only it could be International Women’s Day every day…

Life lessons from Bridget Christie: Write about the things you care about

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20160207_121956-1-1I’m a huge fan of Bridget Christie. I wrote in my 2015 round-up that her book A Book For Her was the best thing I read last year, and I think it’s actually one of the best things I’ve ever read. It’s very funny and it taught me a lot about feminism. I devoured it like one might a bag of crisps after a long walk. I just couldn’t get enough.

As I said in one of my last posts (about what Tina Fey’s book Bossypants taught me about how she and Amy Poehler avoid worrying about what other people think), it means so much to have role models who talk about how they have found a way to get to where they want to be. I’ve reached a stage in my life where I can’t get enough of hearing how other people do it. Strange, isn’t it, how when we no longer have to learn, we suddenly want to do as much learning as possible.

Bridget Christie has been on the comedy circuit for years. She used to, as she puts it, dress up ‘as dead kings and insects and plagues and fire and things like that’. Then, just when she was thinking about giving up on the whole comedy thing, she decided, for her final hurrah, to write a show about a topic she’s genuinely interested in: feminism. And, much to her surprise, it changed everything. She won the 2013 Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award for her show A Bic For Her and the rest, as they say, is history.

I went to see her most recent stand-up show – also called A Book For Her – at the weekend and it reminded me of what following her success has taught me.

This is a woman who has done really well because she’s extremely talented and hilarious, but also because she had the guts to write and to talk about what matters to her (and what should matter to everyone).

20160206_115021We’re all better at our work when we focus on something that interests us. It’s obvious – the more we care about something, the more of ourselves we’re going to put into it. And the more of our heart we put in, the better we’ll be at encouraging other people to be interested in it too.

As I talked about not so long ago, I’m starting out as a freelance writer. I am trying to make my way in a sector which is already seriously oversubscribed and I find it extremely overwhelming. Wednesdays are my assigned writing days (although I obviously do it more frequently than that and think about it ALL the time) and I have regular dips where I wonder what on earth I think I’m doing, who I think I am, and why I’m even bothering because CLEARLY THERE ISN’T ROOM FOR ME.

Now, this voice is not to be listened to – it’s just the sound of imposter syndrome which most of us experience every day one way or another. So to try and avoid it, when I’m struggling to know where to put myself, I go back to my list of things that I am most interested in. The things that I like writing about, that I know about, and where I really have something to offer. And from there, well, the ideas gradually start to come. It’s very much a work in progress, but it’s a starting point, and we all need one of those.

Of course, it’s not possible to just work on things you’re most interested in all the time – girl gotta get paid, yo. You also need to keep an open mind because you never know which new things you come across might make it onto your list. I’ve found myself writing about topics which I might not have previously thought would be my bag that have then turned out to be something I’ve loved looking into.

But when things are quiet on the work front, or when you have some spare time, it’s good to do a bit of writing just for the love of it about whatever it is that you want to talk about. Because that way is sure to lie some of your best work and you just never know where it might take you.

Who knows it could be an award winning stand-up show or an amazing book. Or it could just be a blog post that your mum is kind enough to read. Either way, you’re bound to have some of your happiest hours just getting it onto the page.

I’m always looking for my next source of inspiration to join Bridget, Amy and Tina (sure, we’re on first-name terms) on my list of go-to people for a spot of reassurance that even the very best of writers have their struggles. So if there’s anybody whose words and tales you find particularly helpful, please leave me a comment/send me a tweet/carrier pigeon and let me know.  

Life lessons from Amy Poehler and Tina Fey: We don’t f*cking care if you like it

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I love it when a book has such a profound effect on you that you think about it every day.

For me that book is Bossypants by Tina Fey. I loved every single word. I read it on the tube to work and it made me want my commute to last longer. This is a significant compliment. I travel to work on the Northern Line, London’s very own moving oven.

There is a chapter in the book called ‘I Don’t Care If You Like It (One in a series of love letters to Amy Poehler)’. If they did wallpaper with the words from this chapter on it, I would use it to redecorate my house. In the interests of the continuation of my marriage, it’s probably best that that particular product remains unavailable.

Tina writes about when Amy joined Saturday Night Live:

“…she did something vulgar as a joke. I can’t remember what it was exactly, except it was dirty and loud and “unladylike.”

Jimmy Fallon, who was arguably the star of the show at the time, turned to her and in a faux-squeamish voice said, “Stop that! It’s not cute! I don’t like it.”

Amy dropped what she was doing, went black in the eyes for a second, and wheeled around on him. “I don’t fucking care if you like it.” Jimmy was visibly startled. Amy went right back to enjoying her ridiculous bit. (I should make it clear that Jimmy and Amy are very good friends and there has never been any real beef between then. Insert penis joke here.)

With that exchange, a cosmic shift took place. Amy made it clear that she wasn’t there to be cute. She wasn’t there to play wives and girlfriends in the boys’ scenes. She was there to do what she wanted to do and she did not fucking care if you like it.”

Tina goes on to explain how important those words “I don’t fucking care if you like it” are when you’re coming up against other people’s opinions whilst trying to get to where you want to be.

She says that you should ask yourself: “Is this person between me and what I want to do?” If they’re not, ignore them and move on. If they are, find someone who does think it’s a good idea and, as Tina writes, with time opinions will change organically. You need to have faith in what you’re trying to do. Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.

This chapter was a game changer for me. It never occurred to me not to care. I’ve always cared so bloody much what people think. But we all know that this is a pointless way to live. Whenever I have had any success, I have managed it because I’ve been single-minded and focused on what it will take to get from A to B – and not on what anybody else has to say about it.

As a woman who is often* trying to be funny, I found these words particularly helpful. Even in this day and age when anybody worth speaking to has worked out that hey, guess what, your sex doesn’t decide how amusing you’re capable of being, there are still plenty of people who need to be walked through it. So to read how two of my heroes avoid letting fear of being disliked bring them down was invaluable.

So when I start to feel self-doubt starting to kick in, I just think: ‘What would Amy and Tina do?’ And so should you.

All together now: We don’t fucking care if you like it!

 

*ok, fine: ALWAYS

Don’t look too keen: Why dating rules were made to be broken

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Dating rules can be ridiculous.

Leave at least an hour between text messages.
Don’t accidentally point at wedding dresses whilst you’re out together.
Don’t do too much smiling in case they think you’re a psychopath.

Urgh, I’m glad to be out of it.

The rule I always struggled the most with was ‘Don’t look too keen’.

Now, this is not because I’m a crazy person with a body secretly tattooed with the name of every man I’ve ever admired (I’m afraid of needles, thanks very much) but because this rule is actually unfinished. What it should say is: ‘Don’t look too keen unless you’re ABSOLUTELY 100% SURE that they are equally keen on you in which case, do what you like’.

The game goes something like this.

  • Meet someone you like.
  • Appear interested but nonchalant, like a Coronation Street viewer passing the time with an episode of Eastenders. You’re here, you’re looking, but you’ve just got so much else going on.
  • Commence dating. Brush your hair and clean your teeth but don’t let them think it was all for them. There’s a good chance you’d have done that today anyway.
  • Begin to incorporate occasional smiling and physical contact into dates. Maybe even laugh at their jokes but don’t play with your hair. It’ll totally give the game away.
  • Undertake mind reading exercises/ask a couple of their mates if they’ve mentioned you, to confirm that they definitely do like you precisely as much as you like them.
  • Say something encouraging like “You’re nice” or “Those jeans fit you well around the waist” to let them know that actually, yes, you are interested too.
  • Enter balanced, game free relationship. Reply to their text messages when you want and perhaps even answer the phone when they ring you (unless Corrie’s on, obviously).
  • Get married. State just how keen you are in front of everybody you know.
  • Schedule regular occasions on which to demonstrate your deep felt keenness throughout the year, such as anniversaries, birthdays and Pancake Day.
  • Specifically do not appear keen on anybody else at all for the rest of your life, with the following permitted exceptions: David Beckham, Leonard DiCaprio (Romeo and Juliet era preferred) and anybody offering free chocolates, as long as you make sure you get enough free samples for both of you.

It’s an exhausting business. But here’s a thing nobody tells you. That isn’t really the end of it.

If you’re somebody who has worked tirelessly for years to ensure you’re always on the right side of the keenness tracks, taking occasional breaks to kick yourself hard in the shin for accidentally misreading a high-five as a marriage proposal, your guard never quite goes down.

Dating rules were meant to be brokenI think it’s because dating teaches us to be so cautious that when we do let ourselves relax, an alarm bell rings inside our heads and says WOAH WOAH WOAH YOU’RE VULNERABLE! QUICK, DELETE HIS NUMBER AND START PRONOUNCING HIS NAME INCORRECTLY! YOU NEED TO WIN BACK SOME POWER!

It can come up out of the blue. You can be asking an innocent question about the weekend ahead and your options for mutual socialising, and all of a sudden you’re feeling the need to clarify that you were just wondering what they were up to and you don’t even want to hang out with them anyway, and you have so many other options on the table you can hardly wade through them, whilst they look on, baffled.

It can be difficult to shake the dating game off. Of course some elements apply forever – it’s nice to listen to what people have to say instead of just saying “Uhuh” every ten seconds and continuing to look at Twitter, and washing is always a positive activity, but once you’re in a relationship it’s nice just to have a bit of trust and stop all this fannying about it.

The dating game is just that – a game. Sometimes you win – and by win I mean you meet somebody you like and who likes you and that you enjoy spending time together for an appropriate length of time (whether that be forever, or until you realise that you just can’t get past your differing opinions on who made a better Batman), and sometimes you lose, by which I mean that it leaves you wondering whether you should just marry your cat and be done with it.

But when it does work out, you have to just throw the rule book out and admit that you do indeed like another human being. Relationships do make you vulnerable because you can’t enter into one without admitting that actually you are rather keen. Queen Keen of Keen Town, actually, and you don’t care who knows it.

All you can do is try and find yourself in a situation where everybody is as keen as each other so that that never feels like a bad thing. With somebody who also believes that eight is the optimum number of kisses to include at the end of a text message, and who feels just as strongly about the apostrophe as you do, and who agrees that, yes, Pancake Day really is the greatest day of the year.

Body image: Why it’s time to stop scrutinizing the way we look

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I’ve never been a big fan of my eyebrows. They’re seriously spiky customers, they totally give away that my hair’s dyed (spoiler alert) and they seem absolutely determined to join together as one, if only my tweezers would let them. But they let me express myself. They go up when I see something that surprises me, like a free seat on the tube, or a Buy One Get Two Free offer (seriously, they happen). And they furrow when I’m confused, like when anybody tries to make conversation with me before 9am or after 9pm, or when people don’t understand how to queue. And I’m grateful for that.

I’ve never really liked my nose. Right there in the middle of my face, like a pink slide for flies. If I’m embarrassed or I laugh too much it goes as red as a flustered tomato, and I could swear it also flashes. But having a nose means that I can smell things. I can enjoy the scent of a well-chosen fabric conditioner or a frying piece of bacon. And I love bacon. And fabric conditioner (though not together) so being able to smell them both makes me very happy indeed.

Sometimes my eyes just DO. MY. HEAD. IN. They cry when I laugh, when I yawn, and when it’s windy, and reduce even the most waterproof of mascaras to a charcoal spread. They well up at the smallest sign of kindness. Try me – offer me a crisp. But having eyes means that I can see you. That I can read back through my own tweets. And that I can look in the washing basket and see that yes, now would be a good time to do a pink wash. Having eyes really is rather handy.

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I’ve always thought my arms were a bit weird. I’ve got double jointed elbows, you see. Sure, they’re handy for grabbing things that have dropped behind a radiator but that’s a party trick people only really want to see once – at best. When I try to do press-ups (which – OK, fine – is almost never), I have to think really hard about which way my arms should bend, so I’m forced through embarrassment (and perhaps just a smidge of laziness) not to bother. But with arms and hands I can put together a mean bag of Pick ‘n’ Mix. I can hug you real tight. And I can cook up a poached egg which I can guarantee will be runny in the middle. And for that I am definitely grateful, as would you be, should you wish to pop round.

When I stood in front of the mirror this morning I realised how quickly my brain automatically turns to negative thoughts. To noticing all the hairs that are out of place, the teenage skin that should surely have GROWN UP by now, the constant quandary over whether each part of me is the size and shape that it should be. It’s so boring. The time has come to stop this and just accept what’s right there in front of us – sure, wash it, moisturise it, hell, even use one of those little exfoliating sponges every now and then if you like, but let’s not waste so much time scrutinizing.

A touch of gratitude for what we’ve got, what it let’s us do, and how it makes us who we are, can only do us good. And think of all the time we’ll win back – more hours in the day to marvel at our ability to see a blue sky, to spot an opportunity for a bargain, or even to hone our press-up skills, should we suddenly find the energy.

Though, to be honest, I don’t think any amount of free time could ever make me fancy that.

The seven stages of falling asleep on the sofa

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It was only ever meant to be a little dose of innocent shut eye. Just a momentary escape from Match of the Day, or the adverts in the middle of Rude Tube, or a conversation with her husband about what they’re going to do on New Year’s Eve.

But now she’s woken from what accidentally turned into a full-on sleep and she’s livid. Her eyes dart from side to side, searching for what will tonight win the title ‘Single Most Annoying Thing In The World’. Will it be that glass on the coffee table that’s been there since last night, or will it be that pair of shoes that she specifically asked be placed on the mat but that stand there on the tiles, mocking her. Or will it be her own inability to stand up without tripping over the throw she’s been sleeping under and looking like a dickhead.

It’s the same story every time:

Stage 1: The ‘little lie down’. She slides down the sofa ‘just to get comfortable’ whilst watching television. This is her first crucial mistake. Lying down is basically giving her body permission to drift off to snooze town. She might as well just throw back a shot of Night Nurse, sing herself a lullaby and be done with it.

Stage 2: The cover. Whether it’s a throw that lives on the sofa (for the sole purpose of accidental nap time), an over-sized gentleman’s jumper or a freshly washed towel, she’ll grab anything she can get her paws on and throw it over herself, just to make the sofa feel even more like a bed. There is, of course, a very nice and very available bed just upstairs but in the interests of not moving a single muscle, she’s convinced herself that the sofa is superior.

Stage 3: The gentle warning. A voice of calm will suddenly speak out across the lounge. “Charlotte, don’t fall asleep. Remember you don’t like it when you wake up on the sofa. Why don’t you just go to bed, hmmm?” She appreciates his concern (even if his tone is just a little patronising – doesn’t he have any faith in her?) but she’s only going to be here a few minutes so he needn’t worry – she is totally in control.


Stage 4: Deep sleep. Before she knows it, she is spark out, dead to the world. Only an earthquake or the Coronation Street opening titles could wake her now. And if the gentleman in the room has it his way neither of those two things is going to happen any time soon. He’s just going to plug in the X-Box and enjoy a little bit of calm before the inevitable post-nap storm.

Stage 5: The awakening. The time comes when he wants to go to bed. And because he’s a nice man, (and one who has heard many times that she doesn’t appreciate waking up to find herself downstairs alone – why does he think it’s OK to abandon her?!) he attempts to wake her. He has a number of strategies for this – from the gentle to the electronic. There’s the gentle shake, the relentless repetition of her name until she wakes up shouting “WHAT DO YOU WANT STOP GOING ON AT ME” or, for the more comatose episodes, he will ring her mobile and let the sudden vibrating of the device next to her startle her back into reality. She does not appreciate the call.

Step 6: The stomp. And now she’s awake. And for a number of reasons – none of which are anybody’s fault but her own – she is cross. She’s cross that she fell asleep on the sofa AGAIN, cross that she’s still fully clothed and now inexplicably BOILING, and livid that she now has to drag her sorry behind upstairs whilst feeling (and looking) like a zombie. And so along the way she’ll find anything to direct her fury at – an out of date pile of newspapers, a scarf that’s fallen on the floor, or a bowl that has innocently missed its go in the dishwasher (largely because she was eating marshmallows from it before she fell asleep clutching it to her chest). She is a walking, shouting example of why one should indeed never wake a baby, a dog or a sugar-filled, world weary woman.

Step 7: The regret. Just as her mum always said, everything does indeed look better in the morning. In the light of day she’ll see that actually that overflowing pile of washing doesn’t really make her so mad that she wants to throw all the clothes out of the window so they can just ‘bloody well get washed in the rain’; and that if she’s honest, she remembers now that it was actually her idea to turn the heating up before she drifted off to sleep and that of course nobody is trying to make her sweat herself into oblivion. She apologises to the most patient man in the world (and to the dishwasher which she remembers kicking for a reason she can’t quite recall) and promises just to get into bed next time she feels tired.

And so another day commences, another commute gets underway, and the clock ticks until yet another evening of dinner and warmth and ill-advised portions of sweet snacks turns into a one-woman battle to stay conscious. She must just try to stay upright for as long as possible, and then send herself to bed as soon as her eyelids start weighing her down.

Because there’s only so many times this man is going to have the energy to try and negotiate with a woman who wakes up and starts shouting at a pile of newspapers for failing to find their way into the ‘cocking recycling bin’.

And anyway, he did warn her that this would happen in the first place. He’s just not sure that now is the best time to mention it.

*By she I mean me, by her I mean me, and by Charlotte, I mean me. What do you mean you already knew that?