Dear Twenty-Year-Old Flix,
I'm here. Remember how years ago, full of tears and feeling low, you wanted me to come around and tell you things will turn out okay? Well, I'm here now and it's as predicted, even if you couldn't feel it at the time - you're alright; you survived. You’re doing even better than anticipated.
You did it. You got your degree; you're a Master of Science! It got much worse, it was an awful year, but YOU DID IT. You didn't quit and you got the class of qualification that you damn well deserved. It is hard to articulate just how fantastic this achievement is. Well done.
You have a job. It took a while, but it is a 'Real Job', although often it doesn't feel like it. You are really good at it, and it’s even kind of science-related! It provides you with a steady income and you don't have to deal with a cumbersome commute or chatty colleagues. It's ideal for you at the moment. It may not always be, but you don't need to worry about that right now. You should be grateful to have a job when so many struggle to find something suitable.
You have your own place! It was difficult living at home with family, but you're doing much better now. You are calmer, less stressed. Sad, sometimes, but so is everyone. You manage.
You have your own car! More importantly than that - you actually learnt to drive and passed your test, first time. You should be so proud of yourself. You drive on your own, you drive in the dark, you've driven to places by yourself that you've not been to before. It still makes you feel anxious to drive, but you’re getting better.
You've travelled abroad so much in the last ten years! Prague, Barcelona, Edinburgh, Berlin, Cardiff, Florence, Dublin, Budapest, Tallin, Helsinki, Amsterdam, Brussels, Bruges, Reykjavik, Cologne, Copenhagen, Seville, New York, Philadelphia, Killarney, San Francisco, Austin. You've just come back from Lake Como next. You are so lucky.
You have such good friends. Some, you hadn't even met yet with when I was you; some you've kept since you were 12 years old. They are all important and they keep your evenings and your weekends busy and full of fun. Bravo, you have cracked social interaction.
You have your family. They support you, they love you, they annoy you. Your parents split up a few years ago and that is weird, but you're coping okay. You still have them both and you are close to your siblings. You have more than many.
You have a boyfriend. A loving, caring, funny, clever man. You are very happy together.
You are doing well. You are very happy, in general. Life is good and you have much to be thankful for. Congratulations Ten-Years-Ago Flix, I wouldn't be the woman I am today without you making me so.
Lots of love,
Thirty-Year-Old Flix
Flitterbox: Ace of Base ~ Life is a Flower
Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts
Sunday, 27 May 2018
Saturday, 20 January 2018
Write Right
Today, I have written without thinking.
I have a feeling that I’ve more to say on the subject of writing and in a way, starting to write again is a bit like going back to the beginning. The faltering, unsure posts saying nothing much and not being certain that anyone is even reading regularly. But if one person is, even intermittently, that’s enough, I don’t need nor want 10k followers. It’s okay to write as myself, about myself. Or about anything I want, even if it doesn’t have an ‘angle’ or an aim. It doesn’t mean I’m going back to the way things were. It just means I have things I want to say or document and that by imagining that there is someone reading means I am able to structure thoughts better. It means I think about how I construct my sentences, the vocabulary that I use – scanning my brain for synonyms when I find myself repeating words, or considering whether my grammar is actually correct. Am I over using alliteration? Then realising it doesn’t matter that much anyway, or if I don’t follow the 8 simple rules to make my blog the best, because all I need is it to work for me.
My blog is inextricably linked with sadness and reflection. It’s not all necessarily bad, naturally. Sometimes it’s an observation I want to keep hold of, a trip I want memories to last beyond photographs. Pictures are fantastic, of course, but some of my most treasured times are those that you don’t want nor need a camera to capture. Words can help with that. And sometimes, they are flowery and fancy and sometimes they are written purely for effect. Of course, I don’t actually talk like this. Writing happy is hard, I find – please, read and see, look how lucky I am and how great my life is!
Life has changed, so much, since the days of Turning Twenteen. I am not far off being in my thirs rather than twens and the blank canvas that is the next decade of my life stretches before me. I am making home improvements on a place that I live in, that now, someone is living in with me. I have newly-laid carpets and newly-acquired second-hand sofas. I have bought lampshades and have painted walls. I have a disposable income of my very own that is not a loan, and I can use it however I wish. I can spend Saturday evening reading, watching TV, playing a board game or going to bed at 9pm. I can spend my holidays in the UK, as I did earlier this year - visiting the town instead of the festival, and preferring it. Eating a dinner by candlelight with a meal made from can of mixed beans and microwave rice, a glass of red wine, and the sound of gentle jazz music streamed from Spotify. It may not be instagrammable or worthy of a foodie post but for me, as meals go, it was one of the finest. Not for the food, but for the company, the memory, and the content realisation that at that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
It feels like things are falling into place.
Flitterbox: Clean Bandit ft Jess Glynne ~ Rather Be
I have a feeling that I’ve more to say on the subject of writing and in a way, starting to write again is a bit like going back to the beginning. The faltering, unsure posts saying nothing much and not being certain that anyone is even reading regularly. But if one person is, even intermittently, that’s enough, I don’t need nor want 10k followers. It’s okay to write as myself, about myself. Or about anything I want, even if it doesn’t have an ‘angle’ or an aim. It doesn’t mean I’m going back to the way things were. It just means I have things I want to say or document and that by imagining that there is someone reading means I am able to structure thoughts better. It means I think about how I construct my sentences, the vocabulary that I use – scanning my brain for synonyms when I find myself repeating words, or considering whether my grammar is actually correct. Am I over using alliteration? Then realising it doesn’t matter that much anyway, or if I don’t follow the 8 simple rules to make my blog the best, because all I need is it to work for me.
My blog is inextricably linked with sadness and reflection. It’s not all necessarily bad, naturally. Sometimes it’s an observation I want to keep hold of, a trip I want memories to last beyond photographs. Pictures are fantastic, of course, but some of my most treasured times are those that you don’t want nor need a camera to capture. Words can help with that. And sometimes, they are flowery and fancy and sometimes they are written purely for effect. Of course, I don’t actually talk like this. Writing happy is hard, I find – please, read and see, look how lucky I am and how great my life is!
Life has changed, so much, since the days of Turning Twenteen. I am not far off being in my thirs rather than twens and the blank canvas that is the next decade of my life stretches before me. I am making home improvements on a place that I live in, that now, someone is living in with me. I have newly-laid carpets and newly-acquired second-hand sofas. I have bought lampshades and have painted walls. I have a disposable income of my very own that is not a loan, and I can use it however I wish. I can spend Saturday evening reading, watching TV, playing a board game or going to bed at 9pm. I can spend my holidays in the UK, as I did earlier this year - visiting the town instead of the festival, and preferring it. Eating a dinner by candlelight with a meal made from can of mixed beans and microwave rice, a glass of red wine, and the sound of gentle jazz music streamed from Spotify. It may not be instagrammable or worthy of a foodie post but for me, as meals go, it was one of the finest. Not for the food, but for the company, the memory, and the content realisation that at that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
It feels like things are falling into place.
Flitterbox: Clean Bandit ft Jess Glynne ~ Rather Be
Monday, 7 November 2016
Finding Fireworks
Eleven years ago, I created an account on an internet forum.
In the midst of MSN spaces, MSN messenger and mySpace, I followed a link on a blog and ended up signing up to a site where comments and conversations were no longer limited to blog posts, but could be continued in discussions and threads. I had no idea how much that place would shape my next few years.
I made friends. Honest, true-to-life friends. I know it’s like, totally normal and cool and hip now to have internet friends, but back then, I was just the weirdo who declined a night out to spend a night in with people I’d never met. When I started university, the forum was my safe haven. There are many negatives of net relationships, but one of the plus points is that they are always there, wherever you are. At a time when everything was changing and everyone I knew was either too far away, or too new to know properly, the forum was there. I just had to log on to a computer to find my friends, to laugh, to moan, to offload and to interact with ease. For a few hours, I didn’t feel so lonely.
As the years went on, the people I’d never seen became more than that. A tight-knit small community of people, varying ages and stages of life, we weren’t brought together by a common interest but somehow, it worked. We shared memories, thoughts and in-jokes. We met up with each other, across the country, once or a few times. We hugged, we chatted, we ate cake and drank tea, coffee, wine. Some of us even dated. I never expected what could come out of simply logging on a forum, once upon a time.
In time, life improved, both socially and work-wise and I didn’t need that internet crutch as much. It was still there and a comfort, like a bowl of warm soup on a cold November night, but I didn’t desperately crave it as much as before. On balance, that’s probably for the best – it makes sense to live your life in the real world, a richer and more satisfying experience overall. But I do miss them and as lame as it sounds, I am so grateful that the forum was there at the time that I needed it most. I would have got by, sure, I would have been okay, either way, but collectively, those forum members helped more than any of them individually can really know.
Eleven years. It has often seemed odd that I’ve known them longer than anyone from university and yet, for a large part, there’s so much detail I don’t know about them. We posted opinions and anecdotes but personal information was limited. With the way the internet is now, I’m sure I could find them if I wanted to, re-connect, engage in a deeper sense, become more involved in each other’s ‘real’ lives, beyond the screen. The question I keep coming back to is – do I want to do that? Do I want them to be real people? Or am I content with the way things were and are, a step removed from reality, keeping a façade to hide behind. Would we even get on if we extended our friendship outside the bounds of the web? With anonymity comes the freedom to say what you like without the direct connection to the outward perception of yourself.
How different is the person you are to people around you, to the person you present on screen?
Flitterbox: Keane ~ Somewhere Only We Know
In the midst of MSN spaces, MSN messenger and mySpace, I followed a link on a blog and ended up signing up to a site where comments and conversations were no longer limited to blog posts, but could be continued in discussions and threads. I had no idea how much that place would shape my next few years.
I made friends. Honest, true-to-life friends. I know it’s like, totally normal and cool and hip now to have internet friends, but back then, I was just the weirdo who declined a night out to spend a night in with people I’d never met. When I started university, the forum was my safe haven. There are many negatives of net relationships, but one of the plus points is that they are always there, wherever you are. At a time when everything was changing and everyone I knew was either too far away, or too new to know properly, the forum was there. I just had to log on to a computer to find my friends, to laugh, to moan, to offload and to interact with ease. For a few hours, I didn’t feel so lonely.
As the years went on, the people I’d never seen became more than that. A tight-knit small community of people, varying ages and stages of life, we weren’t brought together by a common interest but somehow, it worked. We shared memories, thoughts and in-jokes. We met up with each other, across the country, once or a few times. We hugged, we chatted, we ate cake and drank tea, coffee, wine. Some of us even dated. I never expected what could come out of simply logging on a forum, once upon a time.
In time, life improved, both socially and work-wise and I didn’t need that internet crutch as much. It was still there and a comfort, like a bowl of warm soup on a cold November night, but I didn’t desperately crave it as much as before. On balance, that’s probably for the best – it makes sense to live your life in the real world, a richer and more satisfying experience overall. But I do miss them and as lame as it sounds, I am so grateful that the forum was there at the time that I needed it most. I would have got by, sure, I would have been okay, either way, but collectively, those forum members helped more than any of them individually can really know.
Eleven years. It has often seemed odd that I’ve known them longer than anyone from university and yet, for a large part, there’s so much detail I don’t know about them. We posted opinions and anecdotes but personal information was limited. With the way the internet is now, I’m sure I could find them if I wanted to, re-connect, engage in a deeper sense, become more involved in each other’s ‘real’ lives, beyond the screen. The question I keep coming back to is – do I want to do that? Do I want them to be real people? Or am I content with the way things were and are, a step removed from reality, keeping a façade to hide behind. Would we even get on if we extended our friendship outside the bounds of the web? With anonymity comes the freedom to say what you like without the direct connection to the outward perception of yourself.
How different is the person you are to people around you, to the person you present on screen?
Flitterbox: Keane ~ Somewhere Only We Know
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
Gift Giving
Today, I have received a gift.
Receiving presents makes me terribly uncomfortable. There's not a lot of stuff I really want or need. It is really sweet when someone buys me something small and thoughtful, or sends me something little in the post as a pick-me-up. It is nice to feel like someone cares about you, thinks about you.
But just giving loads of gifts, for the sake of it? Because you like buying gifts? It annoys me. Except, I am not allowed to be annoyed at it because they are doing it for me. I appreciate that I am very lucky and I am grateful, but it is the useless expense that bothers me. Why have you bought me this, why have you bought me so much? I didn't ask for it. I don't expect it. I don't want it. It's not humorous or meaningful; a shared joke or memory. It doesn't make me happy, it makes me feel guilty.
I try to take the view that it is their money, that they get to choose how to spend it, and if it makes them happy to spend it on me, then the real gift is not the item but the way it makes them feel and my main role is to allow them their joy in purchasing presents for me. It sounds awful and ungracious to put it that way, I know. I'm sure there's plenty of people (although most of them not reading this) who would love someone to just show some sort of affection towards them through gift-giving. Who ask, would I miss it if I didn't have it? Would I prefer someone who didn't buy me gifts at all?
Of course I appreciate the affection that is demonstrated in this routine. To have someone, who is always thinking of you first - buying you things before they buy themselves things. It is nice. But there are always other ways of doing that. I don't need all the stuff.
What do I do with all this stuff? Stuff I won't use; stuff that takes up space; stuff that costs large amounts of money and is never seen nor worn. The sensible thing is to tell the person you don't want the stuff. But to them, the stuff is their love. The stuff is them. To say you don't want the stuff is to say you don't want them. I can't understand it, to me, stuff is mostly just stuff and I have too much, yet I am very bad at getting rid of it.
Flitterbox: The Feeling ~ Same Old Stuff
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
Many Thanks
Today, I have felt appreciated.
Thank you notes are just the best. Even when someone emails back just to say thanks for doing something that is part of your job, it's a small boost. Especially in times of increasing written contact, you can't hear the gratitude in their voice or see it in their face. You have to rely on someone literally spelling out their thanks.
It's nice to do nice things. It's lovely when someone takes the time to express how grateful they are for what you've done. It makes you want to do more nice things for people.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)