Tag Archives: fashion

The lady brawler

It’s ok, I get it, a lot of people think that I am nice and sweet and I am gentle and ladylike; lots of people think that because I am kind to them and I always generally try to choose to have a passive stance that they can walk all over me.  They don’t believe for one second I’ve had the life I have had, they can’t see how I can be Lady Penelope one minute and then a backstreet brawler the next and I get it, I can see why that’s hard to chew!

Because I have transitioned so far away from what my mum made me into, deliberately.

I’d love nothing better to sit back and be a lady and never to have to use fighting talk again, but when I do that – people take advantage and I am not going to let that happen!

I have had enough of being subdued by people who think that they are better than me, when obviously they are not if they can be mean to someone.

When I used to be thin and I used to be fit, I had a lot of admirers; I had a lot of people wanting to be in my crowd; did I bully them?  No, because I am nice.  The only people I ever said an unkind word to, was those I heard saying things to others, to put them down because they thought I wanted to hear that – because they thought a pretty girl is always like that and they’re not!

I remember my closest friends were bullied a lot by other pretty girls and some wannabes – my closest friends had a lot of problems, such as physical disabilities and one had a particularly bad stammering problem.  A couple of my friends were pretty, but too poor to spruce themselves up – I was a kind and fierce protector of those girls. 

This is one of the reasons why I don’t make friends with women easily, because I hate to say it – there is a lot of body image discrimination and I am not somebody who sits back and lets someone be mean at those who are disadvantaged – I am one of those who will be mean to anyone who tries to be mean in general to a person’s disability or physical bodily appearance. 

Fashion wise, yeah, I can snipe because why on earth would anyone want to wear cowboy boots with a Charleston cocktail dress?  I mean… come on!

But this post isn’t about me being a defender of friends or a fashion critic – this post is a little more of an insight to how I have been raised and partially why my life had been so full of violence regularly, even outside of my family circle.

My parents were rockers, part of the mods and rockers conflict. 

My mum in particular, in her first marriage was the leader of the gang’s wife!

Even when she left the rockers, there were still old memories sticking around even to this day some people will still challenge her, if they remember her and recognised her!

This isn’t all, my granddad was also a backstreet boxer and wrestler to earn extra money over the years and we have associations with others which I won’t name.

Amongst all of this, quite a lot of my family have been alcoholics or substance abusers and well anyone who knows about that sort of thing, can more or less tell, what comes into a person’s life once that happens!

So with all of this going on, there was always a reason, sometimes many for why people would boulder into my family home and beat the crap out of someone.  There was always some kind of reason for it.

Growing up I had to take a lot of scapegoat beatings from people who merely attacked me for my association with my family, some backed off when they found I was the good apple of the family and not like the others – but others used me as a target sometimes to provoke my family into reigniting their wars!

This is what I had to live with and accept!

I think partially this is why during my early adult years I became afraid to go out alone and I still am – I am happier and feel safer in small groups of people and this is a huge part of my PTSD.

But it doesn’t slide away from the fact that my own mother wanted to shut me away too – funnily enough not to shelter me from it all, but just because.  Because wherever possible, my mum used to try and push me forwards into any fray that was happening because it’s great life experience, toughen yourself up and oftentimes she’d leave me fighting her battles alone whilst she sneaked off!

She told me never to phone the police about these things, the last time this happened, I did, because the person tried to set three dogs onto me, whilst mum snuck back off to sit in her car watching it like some kind of blood sport and did so with noticeable relish!

So when people think they can challenge me for my looks or personality, or even think that they can get one over me by slapping me across the face – they are often left in a state of shock!

Because, this nice sweet, polite, timid exterior of a girl – fights and fights hard when challenged and I don’t back down, because to back down shows weakness and I have had harder beatings from my family for showing mercy and weakness, than I can ever get from an adversary!

I remember when I refused to hit someone with a stick once, four of my own relatives turned on me and beat me with sticks to teach me a lesson and I was 7yrs old, two of them were adults!

That’s what things were like for me, so don’t think you could ever knock me down and keep me down – I am too much of a fighter for that and I have a huge amount of resilience and stamina when the instinct to survive is turned on!

Thanks for reading!

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The animal in me

What animals are in my soul according to how I see it… what quirks and personality traits do those animals have that I see in myself?

This is my honest opinion about who I am, in my animalistic side.

My strongest personality I believe is the spirit of the dog or the wolf, which I believe are the same animal really! 

I consider myself very friendly and easily excitable around my favourite people, people I trust and the better I know somebody the more playful I tend to become.  I am also very emotionally insecure and always out to get affection of some kind or another, or give affection and be amongst my pack in general.

I am a pack animal who is outcast as it were, right now – I am without a pack and it is killing me inside, it really is!

I mean it when I say I am excitable around my favourite people!  I exuberate the energy of “oh my goodness, you’re great, you’re this and that, I love you, come here, give a hug, who hurt who?  Let me at them”!  It’s quite funny to see me at times…

Yes I am needy I suppose, no shame in that I guess?

I want to be everyone’s friend but the world seems to fight back against people like me, fiercely it would seem!

I can easily adopt people if they are nice to me, it’s my nature but also like a dog or a wolf I don’t forgive others who bite or bark at me if they’ve been too fierce!  But boy can I be a bitch (pun intended) if you hurt the ones I love and who mean a lot to me!

Like a dog, I can easily feel shame and guilt about the slightest thing, rolling over trying to win back the favour of those I have disappointed if I love them, like some attention seeking hussy!

The other animal I am like is a squirrel – in the right places I tend to have a lot of excess energy and excitement, a bit like a hyperactive dog – but it can be more extreme.  Like a squirrel I love nuts, to eat them but also I like nuts as in people who are considered oddballs of society or Bohemian. 

Like a squirrel I am a bit of an airhead and can forget a lot of things, because I store away knowledge and items all the time and what’s worse, I move them around in case other people borrow them a lot, so sometimes those items can be lost to me… forever… so it would seem!

Also squirrels plant trees, I plant trees too, lots of trees, I like trees.

Give me caffeine or candy or a combination of them both I start talking like a horse racing commentator and speed walk everywhere at high energy for several hours, laughing my head off!

And like a squirrel I can often freak out about things, like the worry wart I am!  When I am stressed or worried, I talk so fast and so high pitched that people just stare at me wide eyed and think rightfully so… “What the fuck”?

Paul has got into the habit of grabbing me by the shoulders after I’ve told him things and then looks at me calmly and says to me…. “Breath, now tell me again… SLOWLY”!

So sometimes I start off again at the same speed and he patiently says “tut tut tut, slowly and focus”… to see us together like this makes you think I am demented or something, but sometimes even I feel I might be at times!

It’s more fun when I have had caffeine and candy and I am worried or have been recently affronted by something… its full steam ahead then, won’t get sense out of me for hours!

An ex of mine had the right idea when I get like that – just snog my brains out and I calm down and become passive almost immediately and then I manage to talk like I have actually got a brain instead of a hamster on a wheel in my head!

Another animal I am like is self-explanatory – rabbits.  You must know me enough by now to know what I am on about here!  The innuendo of what rabbits representation to society is enough for your imagination – but it is also one of the major things which boost my energy!

I am definitely an energiser bunny!

You can also see the rabbit in me when I garden as I often like to kneel on the ground and dig deep holes like I am making a warren… I don’t do it aimlessly, I am not insane!  There is always a purpose for the hole, such as a plant.

I lied.  I am insane, don’t you believe otherwise!

A cow is another animal, I am very nurturing by nature and I tend to graze rather than eat meals, because my body struggles with volume these days, a sandwich is a huge meal to me of late.

If we had the budget my diet would be reminiscent of my grandma’s advice, 7 small meals a day, no bigger than a tea plate (sandwich plate), because volume is an issue!

I remember I thrived when I lived her, it meant of course I seem to constantly eat – but I was thinner for it and I never had stomach ache!

Like the dogs, cows like to go around in herds or packs and I do miss having people in my life.

I miss having a nurturing role, Paul has made my ability as a mother almost obsolete since I’ve become ill, he has taken over everything and there is a huge power struggle for me to become an active mother again with Henry!

I can’t even nurture this family in other ways, such as baking or cooking because of finances but also because Paul has kept the kitchen in a manner that things I need are out of access for me or the kitchen is in such a mess that it takes me three hours of cleaning before I am happy to do anything in there!  It’s not as simple as pop into the kitchen to make a tuna sandwich, because the tuna is in a section of the cupboard I can’t reach because of a mound of boxes in the way and Paul is much taller than I am – I am 5ft 8 and still struggle to get things!

Even on tippy toes I can’t reach the highest shelves of a cupboard and that’s where most of the snacks are stored, so Henry doesn’t binge behind our backs, but it also means I am heavily reliant on Paul to reach them for me as he has forbidden me to use the step ladder, due to my vertigo issues.  I don’t have a fear of height; I have vertigo because of ear damage.  I am fine using them, but he is over protective.

Like a cow, I like to be around children as much as possible and I love to mingle with others in nature.

Another creature I am like is a peacock, though it strongly depends on who I am around.  I am heavily influenced by other people who are in my life the most.  If I am around people where image doesn’t matter, I fall on the wayside with them and don’t make an effort because it’s never noted or appreciated when I do.

I absolutely adore people who are vain, narcissistic or believe that image is everything… they are my kind of people; they are the kinds of people who keep me to my standards!  But I don’t like the ones who make things too personal.  Yes, nag me to take care of myself, my hair, and my fashion, give me tips and advice, but don’t go getting personal about weight and things I can’t change like nose shape and eye shape etc.

I know I am overweight, I am working on it, I don’t need to be told, I am already deeply ashamed about that aspect about me without being reminded or judged for it!

There is nothing I can do about my nose and eyes other than surgery and I don’t want to be the Bride of Frankenstein, no offence.  Though I do need surgery on my nose, because I have broken cartilage that has never healed, but it’s not aesthetic. 

Also I don’t like the ones who think there is something I can do about my big scars.  Yes I know make up works wonders, but some of my scars go into my hairline and messes my hair up if I use cosmetics in those areas!

Always be kind in your advice, never vitriolic.

I love glamour, but I am not well versed in using make up – I never had a feminine influence who taught me things like that.  It’s something I need to learn!

Like my mother never made a point about hygiene, I learned from other people who took care of me over the years.

I remember when I had my first menses as a child, I was unusually early, 8yrs old – my mother gave me sanitary towels but never told me how to use them and for the first few months I wore them with the glue attached to my vagina and not the underwear – when I got my first hairs I learned I had been doing it wrong, because I complained to her about it one day and she called me a fool!

But anyway, I love fashion and I like to stand out a little.  But I do love my baggy comforts and rough and ready looks in dungarees and what not on a day to day basis.  But generally, I love to play with my looks whenever possible because I am a suppressed attention whore, I know I love attention if I can get it and showing off my latest outfits is one way to get attention!

I know when I was a lot younger I was very much the “notice me, notice me” type – but I got beaten pretty badly off my pedestal over the years.

I refuse to believe that as I get older my ability to be a peacock is less and less obtainable, I mean just look at some of the classic stars in Hollywood still bombing around at their best at ninety!

There’s life in the old dog yet, lol what am I saying?  I am only forty!

Growing up I loved the egotistical and I have a playlist called “Vanity” where I have all sorts of songs on it, one of them happens to be the theme tune “Sexy boy” from the wrestler Shawn Michaels – “eat your heart out girls, hands off the merchandise”!  I had Shawn Michaels as a pin up in my bedroom but the bigger poster I had was his quote rather than him “IMAGE IS EVERYTHING”!

Gosh, if I hadn’t of been brutalised, what would I have been like right now as a person?

Though I say all this, yet I am nothing like how I want to be right now – I am a shocking mess, enough to make the true inner me heave whenever I look in the mirror.  But I do feel – why bother when nobody cares and you’re just spending money on your looks that you can’t afford?

I spruce myself up occasionally but it doesn’t get a reaction from anyone around here, not even Paul.

I am embarrassed to say, my depression got so bad in 2016 I found it hard to get the motivation to do basic things like brush my hair etc. around the house – I wasn’t going out as I was bedbound and so often times I didn’t bother.  It made me go around the twist a bit and I think I went stir crazy, because one day I woke up and decided to literally buzz cut my hair clean off!

With the alopecia I have, I am near wanting to do that again, but scared I’ll regret it, especially as my hair is long now and it’s becoming a pacifier for me to brush my hair through with my fingers when I feel insecure.

I think I am also like a snake – it hurts to admit this, because my mother used to call me that a lot when I was growing up and made me feel guilt, shame and disgust for it. 

Why do I think I am like a snake?

Because when someone hurts me, I am quieter than I used to be – I am more observant and I tend to strike at their weakest moment and strike hard!

I think I am a snake because like a snake I sit in the grass watching my attackers, seeing what they are doing to me or trying to do to me and I am calculating… calculating their next move, then WHAM!  I find out their weakness and it’s not pretty. 

I have always been the quiet observer – as my auntie always said “you’ve got to watch the quiet ones”, she kept warning people not to push me too far as I am one they’ve got to be more careful of!

A snake isn’t untrustworthy; it’s a misunderstood creature because it has a superior intelligence for survival, which is unique in the world.  Because they do strike when you least expect it, because you never respected the snake, you underestimated it – you thought it was small and helpless and an easy touch – but the snake will always show you!

If someone criticises me and I give a small strained smile and go quiet, just understand, you’ve hurt me more than you think.  I tend not to be vocal about my hurt feelings too much with people I hardly know.

But also that same smile can be confusing I guess – because it is the same smile I have when I feel anxious or not very confident.

I am also like an elephant… I never forget – I forgive sometimes – but I never forget and I will always make sure you never forget either, if you’ve ever hurt me!

I am also big and a klutz and I survive with my hearing loss because I rely on vibrations, like elephants do!  I also don’t know my own strength, I am unusually strong really.

I mean, before I got sick I could carry a two hundred a fifty pound man over my shoulder!

I used to have big aspirations as a glamazon strength contest woman, this was a thing in the early 2000s in the UK – like the strongest women in the world contest but they were also glamour pusses too!  Not all of them had grotesquely huge muscles; some looked like normal women, but could bench press three hundred or more pounds.

I got out of that ambition when I was 21 because men found it a turn off.

I still kind of dream about doing something similar again, like I used to dream about being a gladiator or a contestant on that show or a female professional wrestler, yes, these are genuine past ambitions I once had!

I loved fitness a lot and it is something I really want to get back into again in a big way – but again, without other like-minded folk in my life, it’s hard to motivate myself!

I like to think that I could get fit enough again where I could potentially do those things in the future and maybe go on the new show Apocalypse Wow too!

But I can be a bit rough with people and I have been known to break the stems of wine glasses by holding them too tight – really I sometimes wonder if I am half orc or something!

I look big and muscular whether overweight or not and people are often shocked when they hear me talk when I feel anxious or shy, because… yeah… my voice doesn’t match my physique and no… I do not have an annoyingly high pitched voice… I have a really strange calm, soothing voice by all accounts that sounds slightly young, but it’s not high pitched unless I am excited or angry.

The closest British actress I can think of that has a voice similar to me is Camille Codari, she is definitely a close sound alike – Americans will probably know her from the John Goodman and Peter O’Toole movie King Ralph!  But also Jackie Tyler from Dr Who; I can be a sociopath at times and put on voices depending on the situation, I am self-conscious of my childish common natural voice, so I do try and suppress it a lot.

My grandma did a lot of elocution lessons on me as I was growing up and so I do know how to talk more mature and aristocratic when I need to and keep it up for quite some time!  It was an essential survival tactic I needed as I was growing up in mixed religious and class cultures.

I can put on a voice that does suit my looks but it is the kind of voice that gets you noticed in public and I don’t like that – it’s a rough and ready school ma’am type of voice, that sounds like I won’t have any funny business!  Lol!  That voice can sound reminiscent of Pam Ferris or Martita Hunt, scary contrast if you ask me!

But there you go me in animal form.

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Sleek and grey

Today is a semi-masculine day for me, I feel like having a pixie cut or spiky hair and wearing a grey pinstripe suit, odd for me as I usually hate the colour grey, but I want a really nice sexy silky white top on that’s not a button up shirt, no, instead it has a slit down to the navel showing off cheeky cleavage.

I may feel masculine but I still want to feel sexy.

Though I feel masculine I still want to be glamorous and so I would probably have been wearing lots of make up today if I could have had it, particularly a dark red lipstick with a darker lip liner and Cleopatra eye make-up.

Shame I don’t have either the body, make up, the clothes or the style of hair to be like that today!

May have topped it off with a fedora too!

Happy reading!

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Filed under Who am I today?

Big dreams given up

This post is all about the big dreams and goals I had in life that are too far reaching I have given up wanting them because of one thing or another. 

As a young child I had a huge love for fashion, particularly fashion design; I remember watching the Fashion Roadshows on TV and The House of Elliot and I remember begging my parents for the Barbie design packs and the make your own design toys.  I got a small pack once, but mum didn’t like my enthusiasm for it. 

When I was going through the pack like nobody’s business, she grew angry about it and tersely stopped my enthusiastic interest in fashion by stating that a fat girl like me would be torn apart in the fashion industry.  She really did a number on my confidence when she knew I actually wanted this as a career.

I was eight or nine years old when I gave up wanting that sort of thing and I grew to detest other girls who were really into that sort of thing because of jealousy issues… if I can’t have that life because of how I look, then why should I support them?  I grew bitter, I admit that.

Because even when I had lost the weight to my mother’s satisfaction there was always the issue of my squinty eyes and my smile is never right either, in fact, my smile looked like a snarl or a grimace.

So the big dream I had as a kid to be a fashion designer went out of the window as did my dream of ever going on the cover of Vogue magazine – which is still something I kind of dream of from time to time.

Another dream I am trying to come to terms with is the fact that since I was a child, I had always wanted a large family – I wanted a minimum of five children all told and as many as nature or God would give me. 

I am coming to terms with the fact I am now 40yrs old and have only one son because of the lack of enthusiasm from his father to have any more with me.

It’s hard to digest because I have the belief that as a woman, I should be mother to a large brood as its natures intention – but there you go, circumstances out of my control dictates to me I can’t have anymore; unless I am lucky enough to have a new relationship soon and I have taken a large chunk out of my paternal families genepool, so that I am fertile into my mid 50s like they are!

OK I suppose for many being a mother to a large family isn’t such a big dream, but it’s one of mine.

Another one of my dreams is to have my stories made into movies, comics or TV shows.  I prefer them to be on screen, I have never written for the motivation to create books – just stories for a screen.

I write the things I want to see on TV.

I have always had the dream of brainstorming with the stars my new story ideas, sitting there discussing what we should do and testing the water a bit with some playful dialogue with each other or play acting things as we’re thinking about them.  I loved drama class at school, though I’d never be confident enough to be a professional actress, it’s not stage fright I have, it’s the idea of becoming too well known where I lose control over my right to peace and tranquillity of not being bothered everywhere I go.

I had my fifteen minutes of fame as a teenager and it drove me bonkers.  I won a fight with the biggest group of school bullies single handed and I became the popular kid for about a month, until my grumpiness about being followed around made people avoid me – Well, I was a moody Goth at the time.

It also became bothersome for a few years that every so often I’d be pulled up in the street being mistaken for two celebrities, this was worse when I was thin!  People didn’t believe I weren’t one of them, because my voice is so much like hers.  Martine McCutcheon, the singer that was also on EastEnders for a time.

I have to admit; I worked on my voice a lot to try and not to sound like her so people would believe me!

I had also wanted some of my stories to be theatre plays, musicals in particular for some of them as I have a huge love for music as much as I do writing and fashion.  I haven’t learned to read music, but when I lived in London and was still in contact with my family my brother let me use his Cubase and was astounded at the compositions I made for my rap/rock band I had in college.

A few people in my family and friendship circle keep telling me I should be a professional singer but I don’t want to do that, I only really want to write the lyrics and compose the music whilst someone else sings them.

I know it sounds like I don’t care about my craft very much but the average song or poem I write can be done in less than half an hour on average and it’s never revised.  Composing music can take one to three days with Cubase, that’s my average anyway – unfortunately I don’t have access to Cubase anymore.

I have also wanted to have a breedable pair of dogs and train them like I always do, but specifically for agility contests and go to dog sports events with them as a competitor.  It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but when I had dogs when I lived with my parents my mother wouldn’t let me go to the events unless they were within three miles of the house.  So the only event I went to was for three years and that was the Silverstream summer fete contests in Burnt Oak, North London.

My dream has been to have a breedable pair of dogs because I want to keep the bloodline of my original dog in the family for generations, so I am never without at least one dog and the dogs could be inherited down to the family.  Henry loves the idea of this, but Paul says we can’t afford a dog anymore – not with this heat or eat crisis that is going on in the UK right now.

I have also been interested in fly ball and other dog sport activities.

In the past I have been known to train dogs to understand at least thirty commands, but it depends on the dog and my time with them.  To get to the thirty command stage I worked on a new dog three hours a day for four months solid.  I didn’t have that much time with some of the others when I lived with my mum.  But mum hated the bond I had with that dog in particular so much, she got rid of it and gave it to an aunt, broke my heart.  That puppy would have been amazing when she was older.

Another dream of mine is to rebuild The Garden Of Eden, but there you go, probably a little too big for me?

I have simple dreams really – like winning a bakery contest in a country fair, or a contest in applique design.

I know given the right circumstances and resources, I’d be as glamorous as Lady Gaga and other similar stars – I know I would have wacky ideas for fashion, I love to play – I am a very playful person and I like shinies – not necessarily jewellery, I don’t really like to wear that much of it – but I do like shiny things and bold fashion.

I am a big fan of Moschino since Jeremy Scott took over a lot of the designs, that’s the kinda wacky I am on about!

I’m unashamedly a big kid at heart, really I am – there are times I wished that the public weren’t so snippy as I’d love to wear plaited pig tails again in public, not just around the house!

I say I don’t like wearing jewellery much, but I do love bangles – I am the annoying office worker that has ten up each arm and types at 90wpm and jingles all the way!  Or at least I used to be, before the bracelets got presumably lost.

I try to keep a turquoise at my throat area as much as possible too.

But other than that most of my ideas for my dreams are pretty small. 

If money was no object I’d probably have a huge house simply so I can adopt more people and let people stay over and use me as a stop gap – as I am very friendly and I like guests if they are friendly.  I’d have acres of land just so I can have many different types of garden and entertainment areas and play areas for children and pets. 

I’d probably be a party animal, any excuse for a party if I knew I had friends or a lot of people to invite to them, that is.  As I do love parties, but I don’t like drinking much – I just enjoy the positive energy of parties.  Easter, Christmas, Halloween, birthdays, BBQ, New Year, etc.  I love dinner parties too especially if there are guests who are not opposed to games after dinner.

I love planning for events, decorating, preparing, I love it sometimes more than the actual thing itself.  I put my heart and soul into things like that – but it’s an almost non-existent life here with Paul, he doesn’t socialise and so… life in a word is DULL.

I am always thinking about how amazing things are going to be for the people who are going to attend, it’s selfless, I think about individuals who will be there.  It’s just me – I don’t know if I have ever mentioned this before but I was in the hospitality trade for a while as a PA for VIPS.  I was doing so well at Nordic Cruises base as a meet and greeter and was quite popular with the clients for it, that I was offered to go on the cruises for some of the people, but I had to give up the job when they offered me that – because mum didn’t approve me leaving the house for weeks on end.

Because part of my job as a meet and greeter was to also provide lunches and I was so friendly and got to know people so well that I started to customise lunches for people I knew were going to attend meetings that day.

I loved that job, I am a people pleaser if I am honest – it brings me joy to make people feel at home!  I think it was Nordic Cruises anyway; my memory might be a big off.  But whatever, I loved it there even if I wasn’t there for more than a couple of months, of all jobs I had up to that point I thrived there.

So I think the biggest most extravagant thing outside of being on Vogue’s cover magazine and having my stories made into movies would be this… A three day party cruise with a pool with all my favourite people on board almost like an annual thing.

Another extravagant thing is an ice-cream sundae I always wanted to try in New York at Serendipities, it’s the opulent sundae.  Just because it looks freaking cool… no pun intended, its ice-cream – eye roll time!  But it’s like 1k for it!  1k!

But there you go.

Other than that, I just like simple things.  Like the idea of going on the world’s longest zip wire… going zorbing… learning to roller skate and ride a bike… silly things like that. 

Thanks for reading!

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It’s rainbow tardy day!

It’s a rainbow tardy day, I want to be surrounded by prisms and rainbows and I just can’t decide which colours to wear today so it’s almost anything I can find, which isn’t much in my wardrobe unfortunately!

I saw some really cool knee high rainbow stockings on Pinterest today, I so want them!  But they wouldn’t suit me, I have to hide my legs, I have hockey legs, or so gran called them!

I tried making a banner for free today on Canva, spent an hour trying to make it, for it to turn out wrong and I gave up!  Setting up YouTube by January may be another fail, unless I can get to grips with it.

I hope I can.

Happy reading!

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It’s not vanity week, honest!

Why did I confess about my supressed vanity and why do I seem so proud of it?

Because, it is a major part of my natural personality that got the hardest beatings and chastisements over the years, to me it feels like it was 50% of my personality and that since my suppressors took a hold on me – to get me out of the mind-set of it, it was like I have lived my whole life a lie.

I lived as my shadow self for too long, though many people feel that vanity is the shadow aspect in itself, maybe my mind is all muddled up – but to me, this is what came naturally to me and it is this what got moulded out of me.

I know a lot of people, my mother included will tell me that vanity is the shadow self, because vanity is a sin.

I don’t see how it’s a sin to make the most of what you have, why shouldn’t you adorn the precious body God gave you however you like?  Why should you not worship God through your temple, which is your body and give thanks and honour him for a job well done?

Why is it more holy to hate yourself and live modestly about your looks or abilities, surely revelling in it all is the biggest form of gratitude to the creator?

I remember slaps across my face as a child when I actually used to have the guts to ask these questions to my mother!

“How dare you” she used to say as she’d drag me to the bathroom to wash my mouth with soap, literally!

To wash those dirty words out of my mouth, because I say something that can’t be redeemed, her long nails scratching the back of my throat as she washed my tongue deeply!

I hate Imperial Leather soap to this day!

All the women I admired growing up were the vain glamorous types, I always kind of screwed my nose up at the ordinary woman and lived in amazement at how much some women put the time into their looks above everything else.

I always wanted to be like that too, but I was only like that for two short years in my adult life before I moved in with Paul and about a year when I moved in with Paul – funnily enough the year before I became sick.

Its sods law that I want to get to grips with my true self now and I have long Covid alopecia which is ruining my idea of what great hair is!  I have learned these things over the years, your hair is your crowning glory, and the thing that gets you judged the most; second to that are your shoulders, people look at your shoulders and your neck and judge your posture a lot!  Thirdly to this is the clothing or accessories you choose to wear and it’s generally make up as the last thing people will notice about you. 

Though going back to the clothing, people don’t look up and then down, they look down and go up, they judge you from your footwear.  This is my experience in any case.

Your smile is another factor that probably comes before the cosmetic application judgement!  Which is why I have a closed mouth smile, I am ashamed of my mouth.

My mouth is the most abused part of my body, my voice suppressed a lot, my mouth has had a lot of abuse – forced feedings, mouth wash outs, slapped across the face a lot, squeezed to keep silent, hand over my mouth, is it any wonder my throat chakra is hard to unblock?

So what is going on here, why is it vanity week?

Well it’s not intentionally vanity week – it’s just I am really working on my inner child in the past two or three weeks and it just so happens to coincide with a few of the self-therapies I am doing.

Waking up the true me, the unblocked me, the real me.

I want to take you all on a journey with me – weight loss and changing my image and I hope it will be fun for all of us!

I am not going to be happy until I can rock a pair of suspenders better than Dr Frank n Furter!

Just don’t think of me in them now huh, don’t want to have nightmares now do we?

For me one of the big things I hate about living here is the inability to get access to someone who can do household maintenance when it needs to be done, instead of having to wait years between projects!  Our shower broke down in 2016 and I bought its replacement in 2018 and it still hasn’t been installed!  I need my twice daily showers and twice weekly exfoliations!

I miss lathering myself in shea butter for an hour and then showering it off, the stretch marks were reduced a lot and it does a lot to help with cellulite, but you can’t get into a bath to wash it all off, ew!

I think my biggest goal since childhood was to have the confidence as well as the body to rock a velveteen cat suit too!  One I’ve dreamt of designing since I was a nine!  When I had the figure to wear something like that I didn’t have the guts!

Its really weird how since doing all this inner child stuff, I am seeing a lot of butterflies, dragonflies, caterpillars, flamingos, ibises and peacocks – all representatives of transformation, flamboyance, vibrancy, vanity and confidence.

I have been taking care of my body with a high protein diet, a little exercise per day and face yoga and I am seeing a major difference to my face and figure personally.  I am starting to like myself a bit but I am thinking that’s a lot to do with the change in my mentality, thanks to that Mel Robbins technique I shared with you a couple of weeks back!

I am now able to plank for about one minute, which is impressive when you think that I struggled to hold a squat for fifteen seconds at Easter!

Six weeks ago I could only do ten reps of bicep curls without weights before needing a two minute break to continue to the full thirty reps – now I can do fifty reps off the bat without resting, though I am slightly out of breath by then.

My main focuses in toning up are my triceps area, as that is not a very nice part of my body, as well as my abs, because I look five months pregnant if I am being honest right now.  The rest of the body seems to be doing itself naturally and appropriately, I don’t know why these two areas in particular are being stubborn!

The aim isn’t to become too muscular, but to tone it up and not be horribly flabby.

At the moment my arms look alien to the rest of my body, which is why I pose with them tightly behind my back, because I look like an ape… well I am an ape, all humans are… but you know what I mean!

So, I just want to be beautiful and feel good for it, I want to be in a position of belief when someone tells me I am beautiful.  But I don’t want to be a mean cocky bitch about it like some women are. 

I just want to wear what I want, feel great in it and be who I want to be, when I want to be it, instead of cringing and thinking I am making a fool of myself, or that people are going to think that two little boys are fighting up my skirt as I walk down the road!

Thanks for reading!

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Vanity & suppression

I have been thinking about the YouTube channel I am going to set up after Christmas a lot, I have been trying to think about what it should be mostly about.  People like themes, they don’t like random people no matter how authentic they are, or do they?

I mean, I like a lot of stuff and I would like to do a lot of stuff – I don’t want to be bored with the same old same old, you know?

I want to sometimes read out my poetry to people, I want to share gardening tips and recipes and my journey through weight loss and other things.  I don’t want to just be a gardening vlog, or a beauty and fitness vlog or a writing vlog.  I want to do the whole caboodle, now people say, sure you can do this but have multiple channels, but I don’t really want to do that.

If I had multiple channels, then I will need to film and edit every day for a once a week post on each and that is taking up more time than I want to do.

Plus I am none too thrilled about the editing process, I hate doing anything technical for too long.

One of my biggest desires in having a YouTube channel is to visibly show people my weight loss, fitness progresses.  But contrary to that there are two things I hate about it… the fame this could give me and the fact I have to show my fat ugly body and face on the camera, or else, what am I showing?

I’m paranoid enough without being famous!

Seriously, you have no idea how paranoid I am when a stranger points and looks like they are talking about me.  I mean… I can’t cope now, let alone when I know they know me… you know… at least right now I can put it down to me being a schizoid, of course they aren’t really pointing at me…. Until they then call me fat ass to my face and I am like… ok I guess they were then, rude!

I keep my mouth shut to people who shout that at me, primarily because I want to live.  But inside I want to shout out “Like your lip will be if you carry on mate”!

If people knew the attitude that goes on inside my head, I would have been murdered years ago!

I don’t like the idea of going out dressed up in a headscarf and huge sunglasses and learning to turn my head away from anyone as I walk past them like some super international spy!   

I just want to dawdle down the street in my scruffs on a lazy day, walking a dog, without it being splashed on the papers “TC bad hair day” or “TC midlife crisis” you know.

But then again, there are days where the attention whore comes out and it’s like “for goodness sake notice me, notice me, stop ignoring me, why am I being ignored when I have just walked down the street looking like a bowl of fruit”?

Thing is, I do like attention if I have to be honest with you.  But the problem is, on my terms and the world doesn’t work like that!

Fame scares me because of the stupid lengths some journalists will go to for a good pic and a front page position in their newspaper; it’s disgusting what some people will do to advance themselves.

When I was little I was famous for a few months in North London as being a pageant queen stripped of her rightful prize because of nepotism in the judging panel.  I remember someone taking me by the hand to pull me away from my mum so they got a perfect shot of me, The Angel of Burnt Oak!

That scared me, let alone the incidences with a couple of my more famous relatives.

The universe has wanted me to be famous for a long time, but I have always fought it.  My grandmother and some of the Romany relatives we have often sat down having fortune telling annuals for the family and from the age of seven they have all been convinced I will be a huge name in the world someday; though they said I will be late in getting that name.  I will be in my early forties.

They suggested even back then, that I am destined for greatness, I will find greatness myself, but I will find someone equally great to spend my life with.  They warned me I would have a child with a man but then I would leave him to start a second family quite late in life. 

Though I would start all this late in life, my legacy would be huge and I would be like Shakespeare or Charles Dickens in how long my fame will last.

Vanity, I know – I know its vanity and I would hold my hands up and say, you think I am bad for this now?  You should have seen me when I was thinner and I felt prettier than I do now, then you’d know how vain I really can be!

I even have a playlist called “Vanity” where you will find songs on it such as “keep young and beautiful” by Annie Lennox, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile” by the musical Annie and “beautiful and dirty rich” by Lady Gaga!.

So yes vanity has always been part of what I call “my true” personality, but it has been badly abused and supressed over the years.  Make no mistake, I don’t think I am beautiful, but I do know there’s a lot of people who said I am and although I don’t believe them, I take their word for it; as the world isn’t generally nice about that sort of thing, unless it’s true and I know a lot of beautiful people who hate themselves too.

I used to obsess over my looks a lot because I can’t stand it when another woman notices; you forgot to do your eyebrows today, omg you have no lip liner, just lipstick? 

I can’t afford to be vain anymore; I don’t have the budget for it.  But when I got sick in 2014 I totally let myself go because my illness made me bedbound and for a while we thought I had some type of cancer, but it wasn’t. 

I also thought, nobody is interested in me with a child and I am approaching forty, why bother?  Especially with my baggage. 

But I have been doing a lot of inner child therapies lately and its waking the true me up again – I love it, but I also hate the idea of people seeing my changes and thinking I am trying too hard to impress others or that I am being pretentious, when in fact I am actually becoming my more authentic and very supressed self! 

As a child, before my mother started to peel me apart from the age of 7yrs I used to love standing in front of people performing for them, singing, acting, dancing, showing off and being my beautiful self in such cocky little way!  This I believe is one of the reasons behind why my grandad called me “cocker” because I was cocky before my mother got her nails into me!

It’s funny but I started to get fat around the time mum started to hate me and supress me, before that, when I had her love and support, I was blooming marvellous and hadn’t a care in the world, I could move mountains with my confidence. 

She insisted she needed to hold me down though, or I was going to the devil, she especially freaked out when I got the notion of burlesque – a thing I saw on TV thanks to my grandad and uncle watching it and predicting that will be me when I am older, mark their words! 

My grandma said if I turn out like that, I’d definitely be following her mother’s footsteps as she was a cancan dancer and burlesque performer!  Imagine that, my great grandma a cancan performer! 

As a child my biggest career dream was to be a fashion designer but my mother worked like a woodpecker on my confidence when she found this out and wouldn’t encourage anything that might be connected to fashion and destroyed my sense of self love as much as possible to get this stupid dream out of my head.

Yet, ironically, it was she who’d force me into the pageants until I became embarrassingly fat for her and she told me she was ashamed to be seen in public with me because of it.

So yes, given the right environment, the right sense of self, I am a vain creature and attention whore to boot and my mother did everything possible to knock me off the pedestal I was on, because she felt the way I was going my life would be filled with sin if she didn’t act cruel to be kind.

But I have tried hard not to be vain, narcissistic or to reach too high – because I can’t stand the reactions from people like my mother who are vitriolic and jealous or greedy to try and do something to you to either destroy you or make entertainment out of you.

I have to say it has been a battle that’s been with me my whole life.  I want to be this great person that everyone admires and to be beautiful and loved, but I also don’t want the evil that comes with it.  You know?

I am on a weight loss journey, so I can be whoever I want to be unashamedly and with a little extra confidence – I will never have oodles of confidence, but I am going to fake it until I make it and I want to be a butterfly or better yet, a peacock!

As I’ve said before, I have had to learn to do everything on an emotional level alone – no support – no friends, nada.

It’s scary to think of what I could be if I am still alone, you know?  I need security, I mean emotional security.  Yeah sure, physical security, physical assistance is in abundance in the world, but it’s the emotional security that really counts.

I’ve never been taught to cope with grief or have my grief acknowledged by anyone.  I was always made to feel bad and selfish when I was sad and grieving a loss.

Told I am a stupid girl who needs to snap out of it, snap out of the idea my grandpa has just died, the same grandpa who I lived with for the last 3 months of his life as he died of cancer right before my eyes!

10yrs old and all I got was a pat on the head from my dad, nothing else from anyone else, when grandpa died, when I was still tearful after three days, people became aggressive with me – get over it you stupid girl stop going on trying to get attention for yourself!

All I wanted was a cuddle, some kind words, but being raised by adults who are all self-absorbed, obviously they don’t think about anyone but themselves.  They might have been a close family in that we had a massive family extended for five or even six generations that still maintained contact, but they were not supportive of each other.  They were not the kind of family that pulled together to grieve and help each other, they all go off into their own small groups or by themselves and the children usually end up forgotten.

When raised by people like this, is it any wonder then, why I cry when a stranger shows me kindness and goes out of their way to be nice to me and sympathetic?

Because I am genuinely not used to being treated with any kind of humanity!

I was raised like a thing, not a person.

I remember when I was in therapy groups as a teenager, I remember joking with my peers about how I wasn’t raised I was dragged up and spat out, reeled in and clout, clout, clout.

My peers though knowing it to be tragic laughed, the therapists cried and some refused to treat me as my case was so specifically hard, they needed a lot of mental time off from work, as hearing what I went through, broke them.

It happened to a lot of therapists, I often had them in tears when I recalled my normal daily life and they’d have to end sessions early.  I tried my best actually to hold back a lot because I needed the therapy, but some of them insisted I didn’t – my mother did.

I remember one therapist in particular was so aggrieved by what I went through, she broke all protocol just to give me a long, long tight hug as she cried and she told me, she so desperately wants to get me away from my parents and adopt me.  Then she came to her senses and she couldn’t be in therapy with me alone anymore, she had to have a colleague with her to maintain a professional standard.  This woman worked tirelessly to try and have me removed from custody of my parents, but she failed.

I was weirdly happy with quite a bit of my childhood until I realised that my parents weren’t normal, after seeing so many professionals break like that.  I really thought it was normal that at 7am you’re kicked out into the garden until lunch time, made to entertain yourself when you’re not at school with only a dog and a rabbit as company or the elderly neighbours talking to you over a fence.

At 12:15pm daddy comes home for lunch, perfectly normal to cook for him and yourself, eat your lunch and get out into the garden by 12:45 again until you’re called in for dinner at 4pm same routine, mums working night shift, you got to cook for everyone – then outside again until 7pm.

I thought it was perfectly normal to only bath once a week and nothing else and that in the summer your bath became the kids paddling pool, but with soap!

Of course it’s not, I know that now, but back then, it’s normal life!

I remember my mum when I was of legal age to drink getting excited that I was of age to become her drinking partner at nightclubs, but I was terrified of going to places like that and refused to go.  She was disappointed, but still tried to have drinking nights in with a slap up meal with her mates and tried to make me drink alcohol with her – “here love, drink more of this, you are more human after you’ve got a drink down you, you’re so tight otherwise… go on have another and another”.

She nearly poisoned me one night when I gave in to every temptation.  I got so ill I nearly needed the hospital, the hallucinations were really, really bad – she said it was only alcohol, but I never really knew.

Dad was furious.

I still went with mum to her mates, but I started to insist control in my drinks and never trusted anything given to me after that – I wanted to know my orange was just orange and not some exotic new type that mysteriously contained vodka or gin that they didn’t tell me about.

I am not tight; I will drink, but not enough to get drunk.

So yeah, all sorts of things could end up on my vlog, but I won’t make it a sympathise with me vlog.  It will all be upbeat or informative, nothing dull, nothing depressing; it will be my happy place.

I was thinking about being 100% authentic on there, no matter how tragic it is.  Doing all sorts of things, whether I get laughed at or not, because no doubt I will because I am cheeky – I am self-deprecating and I do stupid things, I am accident prone, I am just not graceful and clueless… it will be hilarious. 

I mean the other day, I was putting on something really tight and I struggled and I was hopping around the room like a Chinese vampire, trying to heave these darn pants on and I fell ass over tit on my face!

Don’t be surprised if that happens in the vlogs if I am brave enough to show my face!

Henry forgot his password to his Roblox game review channel he had, where I’d comment from time to time funny little quips now and again, interrupting his shows and he said if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have had as many views – because a lot of people loved the mum stuff.

We thought at the time, Henry was a budding “Morgz” because he did a lot of stuff with his mum didn’t he?

Well this post is getting a bit long now, so I think I had better end it here, sorry about that, just so much on my mind tonight.

Thanks for reading!

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Tumblr & Today

A few of my friends and followers on my main social media platform have reservations about using Twitter now, so I thought I’d look into other social media platforms so I don’t lose contact with anyone if they don’t want to.

I have opened up a Tumblr account called TheTardyCreative I can’t figure out how to create a profile on there, it appears to be a mini blog site.

I have decided that perhaps I should update things on there a couple of times a day too, in fact I might put a lot more of the diet, exercise and fashion posts on there, but not sure yet, we’ll see how I get along with it.

I had a disturbed 4 hours sleep this morning so I am not going to be at my best writing today. I didn’t sleep until 7am and was disturbed several times until 11:20am when I decided to give up and just wake up.

It’s been a hard day emotionally in this house, things are just getting too much. I am exhausted and not eating because of the stress and I am trying to convince Paul that maybe the hospital is best for Henry after all, or at least try to find a way of getting respite care for Henry because I think, I am going to collapse very soon.

Today I am wearing dog tooth trousers, a white t-shirt and a black cardigan because why not?

Thanks for reading.

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Sleepy caterpillar

Today I feel quiet; it’s a solitary and reflective day for me.  I just want the cosiest clothing possible, to be warm and snuggle up with my laptop writing stories, doing tarot readings, playing with my crystals and reading some books.

Though I feel like being kind of social, I just really want a quiet day.

I really miss having a wandering pet in the house like a dog or a cat, because I could do with fur baby snuggles right now too and I really miss my border collie Candy who used to lie on my feet whenever I was reading, because she kept my feet warm in the winter, whilst bill my shih Tzu kept my abdomen or lap warm and his sister Beau to my side.

I often sat in piles of dogs or other fur babies, it was quite normal for me.

As much as I miss her I don’t miss her habits, Turquoise my tortoiseshell cat, she could never get close to me thanks to the dogs, so her only option was to sit behind the back of the sofa I was on and half lie on my head whilst I read.  Kind of itched a bit as she made my head too warm!

I miss the occasional tweet from my budgies too and the sofa suddenly moving like an earthquake because Amy the Irish Wolfhound has decided to hide behind my sofa right now, disturbing the whole pile of animals around me as she blunders her way behind the sofa to hide again, only for her to re-emerge sticking her wet slimy nose into my ear for a tickle almost immediately.

I miss them all.

But today is a cotton and cotton lace kind of day, with fleecy socks and blankets or shawls; light colours for me, like white, pale yellow or cream, maybe a smattering of oatmeal or coffee, but only very small amounts. 

It would be too cold to go out in what I want to wear today, unless I took an oversized oatmeal or banana yellow fleecy shawl or poncho with me.

Today however, is a day where I just want to be home.  I’d like some company, but quiet, tranquil company.  It’s a reflective day after all and a day of words for me.

I have done a lot of writing today, but not towards a novel.  I have done a lot of words towards blog posts and therapy essays I am doing for myself, as I am trying to heal some major emotional wounds.

Spiritual energy is quiet today, it’s like there is a major focus on me, to give me lightness, give me energy, sending healing my way.

I thank whoever it is doing that.

I certainly feel a lot of inner calm today, like someone has given me Valium or something.

My spirits have tried their best to encourage me to sleep a lot over the past few days, but I haven’t been listening, only for me to nap suddenly whenever I get comfortable.  Henry got afraid yesterday as I fell asleep twice and I wasn’t even tired, but I told him it’s OK.

My spirits told me, “you are not a butterfly yet; you are still a caterpillar and it’s time to get your sleep, because your transformation is very near”.

I suppose it explains why I am fat, then, I am a caterpillar.

I am fighting against their advice though; life is too short to be a sleepy head.

But they insist, I should sleep as much as possible until the second week of November, because after that, I won’t have a chance – things will move too quickly in my life and I may not have the energy to keep up with it, and I must keep up with it!

It’s a strange thing.

But there you go.

Thanks for reading…

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Pixies, pores & chores

Yesterday, I missed an old tartan dress I used to have and I kind of wanted to wear tartan clothing for some weird reason, preferably though, a trouser suit.

Today I wanted to wear green velveteen or something similar; today was a sort of extra glamorous day for me where I wanted to make more effort with myself, but I kind of also wanted to be a pixie as strange as that sounds.

Usually I try to weight myself on Thursdays, but I got my days mixed up and did it today to find I have lost another four pounds in weight – that’s made exactly 9 pounds and 4 ounce weight loss in three weeks, despite online saying I’d only lose two pounds a week on average.

The face yoga is doing my face a treat, I can tell you, there is a noticeable difference in my face, and I feel I am getting prettier, but there you go; my eyebrows still have issues, I have a sense I should leave them alone as I feel like whenever I touch them I make them worse!

My new moisturiser burned me a little the other day and it makes me look like I have acne, but it’s not, it’s just little spots that came up with the reaction around my chin, there’s about five, my pores bled!  That’s the thing with me; I have very sensitive skin I have to be cautious with new products.  I am severely allergic to two thirds of all depilatory creams; the reaction is so bad I break out in huge grape sized hives all over my body within a minute that takes two weeks to fade!  So I have to pluck or shave or sugar wax instead.

Shaving isn’t ideal because I get goose bumps easily, whenever I am touched, so I tend to get a lot of nicks.

Before our financial crisis I used to lay back and read a book whilst Henry plucked the hairs out of my legs individually with tweezers, I paid him £3 per leg, he loved the job.  Weird kid!  Though it was oddly relaxing for me and I got a lot of reading done back then!

Henry was so duty oriented when we had the money, he was often getting chores for lots of other things around the house and paid per chore, he was clocking up an average of £8 a week from me alone – that’s without his regular £3.50 from his dad which was just a given!

I tried to instil an excellent work ethic in that boy, but since we’re not paying him anymore, he has become rebellious about most chores!

I suppose you get your money’s worth.

Though when I can afford a little I still say to him “Henry, fancy cleaning the bath for 50p”?  And he is up there like a shot and doing it happily!

Thanks for reading!

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