Tag Archives: self-esteem

Hear, Say, Believe?

I’m having coffee with someone (let’s call her Person A) when she informs me that someone else (the imaginatively named Person B) said certain things that Person A took to be jabs at her and at me. I feel hurt and angry. Person A must sense this because she tries to change the subject and make small talk. I find it difficult to talk about trivial things at times like these. After a few moments, she asks if I’m okay. I tell her how I feel and say that I just need a bit of time and space and that I’ll probably be fine in an hour.

Afterwards I get into the car, put on the new Daft Punk album and take myself off for a drive. I am fuming and tears threaten an onslaught. I park in a quiet spot and sit with what has just happened. The only thing that would make me feel better would be to understand why Person B said those things and also why Person A decided to tell me. I take out a pen and paper.

I make three lists. The first list has the title: “Why Person B said what they said.” The second is called: “Why Person A told me.” I am fully aware that I am engaging in guesswork and mind-reading but understanding where these people may have been coming from helps me realise why they said what they said, which, in turn, makes me feel better. Some of the reasons include jealousy, worry, resentment, hurt, control, and even speaking openly without thinking of the consequences. Already, I feel better about the whole thing.

The third list I make is: “The benefits of this happening.” I manage to come up with eight of them. But what is most revealing of all is when I question what has actually been said. All I heard was what Person A had heard and internalised and then repackaged in her own fears and projections. Not only that, but then I had internalised all of that and sifted it alongside my own insecurities and sensitivities.

Fact looks very different from imagination. What had Person B actually said? Who knows if this person meant to cause any pain? And even if they did, that’s saying a lot about how they’re feeling. If it is important enough to me to find out, I can go straight to the proverbial horse and poke around in its mouth but, for now, this exercise has been sufficient.

This whole process has highlighted to me that I still have a bit of work to do on myself, especially when it comes to caring what my nearest and dearest think of me. I recognise that this area is usually quite challenging for most people. I give myself permission to have human emotions and reactions. I also understand myself more now and I realise that having a time-out is essential for me to process how I’m feeling, thus enabling me to learn and grow and have healthier relationships.

I close the notepad and, without even trying, I remember something that Person B did for me recently that was extremely thoughtful. Oftentimes, we’re so blindsided by something somebody just did that we obliterate his or her positive attributes. Or we fail to understand that sometimes people do things out of fear or insecurity or because they’re feeling so bad that they want someone else to hurt too. Other times, they are unaware that what they say or do can have a huge impact on another person.

I’m not suggesting that you should accept abusive behaviour but, in many cases, understanding where the other person is coming from and distinguishing fact from emotional hearsay can help make you feel better. Because they only thing you need to do is look after how you’re feeling. And everything else will come right in time.

Everyone Everyone

Last night, I went to a Post War Years and Everything Everything gig in Whelans. The performances were fantastic and the atmosphere was electric. Afterwards, because a couple of the girls work in Music PR, we went backstage. Having politely declined a pint of Guinness from a cute drummer, I settled onto a couch between two other gig-goers. Although they were lovely people and we had great conversation and laughs, I was clearly in my comfort zone.

I’ve never been the type to camp outside the hotels musicians are staying in and I’ve never even asked anyone for their autograph. I know it’s better not to swoon over somebody just because they’re famous but it’s healthy to be able to make eye contact with a celebrity. Famous people are still people after all. I’m sure they value being treated like normal human beings every once in a while.

Last year, I attended the I Can Do It! Scotland conference. During the lunch break, my friends got their books signed by some of the speakers. I went for a walk. While at the time I was glad of the fresh air and exercise, looking back it would have been good to have met Wayne Dyer, Robert Holden and Louise L. Hay in person.

I probably thought I was cool not to go gaga over the stars but there was something deeper at play. I obviously thought I was less than them in some way. I didn’t hold myself in high enough esteem. I’d always found it difficult to be myself around celebrities, attractive guys and even certain teachers. So I ignored or avoided them and became tongue-tied when I found myself in their company. I was closing myself off to a sizeable chunk of the population.

A couple of weeks ago, dating coach Matthew Hussey was interviewed on the Ray D’Arcy Show. Matthew advises people to engage with the human race by chatting up service staff and striking up conversations with customers in the coffee queue or at the gym. He advocates giving compliments and completing random acts of kindness. He tells people to make eye contact and smile. While Matthew is speaking about getting dates, I feel this can be done by everyone. Since I listened to that interview, I’ve been making an effort to follow these tips. And it’s made my days brighter, lighter and much more interesting. Also, once you’re more confident and used to chatting to lots of people, it will come more naturally when you’re faced with someone you fancy or admire.

As we were leaving the back stage area, I remembered Matthew’s words. One of the bands had started messing about on stage. I made a comment and a bit of banter ensued. When we jumped off stage, the band members shook my hand, asked for my name and I told them how great they were. They were just nice, normal, humble guys who delighted in the positive feedback and seemed surprised when we weren’t staying for another drink. It was that easy!

Today I pulled a card from one of Louise L. Hay’s decks. It read: “I am neither too little nor too much, and I do not have to prove myself to anyone.” How very apt.

Here’s one of the tunes Everything Everything rocked last night. Imagine a whole venue singing along to these lyrics… You wouldn’t want to be taking yourself too seriously. And from now on, I won’t.

The Dude From Last Night

So, the dude from last night texted me but I haven’t replied. I’ll explain why but first I’ll have to tell you the whole story…

The Dude got chatting to my friend and I by eavesdropping and then interrupting the tale I was telling her about a male friend.  He enquired, “How did you get on with him?” “Fine,” I said and turned back to my mate. He persisted in asking me questions until he figured out that the guy from the story was just a friend. He then asked: “So, where’s the love of your life?” “I don’t know yet,” I responded. I never got to finish the conversation with my pal because The Dude was there to stay.

The Dude proceeded to seriously insult my resilient friend while simultaneously coming on to me. We can both take a joke but this guy was going too far. Fortunately, she wasn’t fazed by his brutal banter and he did make us laugh, so we stayed chatting to him and his mates. One of them whispered that The Dude was only joking and that it was a technique to chat me up. He explained that if I thought he hated my friend but liked me then I’d think I was extra special. What did he take me for? A needy puppy who couldn’t distinguish between a kick and a cuddle?

A few years ago, a male friend told me about a book called The Rules or The Game or The Condescending Bastard or something, which had taught him how to get lucky with the ladies. He began to adopt strategies like using insults as chat-up lines. He’d start with something like: “You could have at least brushed your hair before leaving the house!” The surprised dame would look all offended but then he’d follow with something charming and funny and she’d be hooked. Or he’d converse with the least good-looking girl in the group so the hot girl would wonder why he was ignoring her. Then, when he finally gave the pretty one his attention, she’d be relieved and grateful and his for the night. This unconventional approach worked a treat for him in night clubs.

That method might fool girls who are horribly insecure and easily manipulated but not a 31-year-old woman who’s made the effort to work on her self-esteem and doesn’t want to entertain such ridiculous mind-games (yes, I am talking about myself in the third person). I’ve come too far to waste my time on a man who belittles others to cover up his own insecurities.

If I went on a date with him, would he drop the act and be real with me? Or would I spend the evening trying to defend myself by conjuring up witty retorts, while desperately hoping to outsmart (and thus charm) him with my cool intelligence? This year, I’ve decided to go with my instincts. No prizes for guessing what my gut’s telling me about The Dude.

So, why did you give him your number? Because I told him I’m studying acupuncture. And despite informing me that acupuncture was a “questionable occupation”, he ran after me as I walked out of the pub and asked for my number because he wanted me to help him with his sore back (he’s actually not the first guy to use that line). I hesitated before giving him my digits. What if he really did want some acupuncture? Was I to deny a guy in pain some beneficial treatment?

Anyway, he texted today asking how I was. No mention of acupuncture. Not that I’m surprised. But I couldn’t be bothered engaging him in dialogue when I’ve no interest in meeting him again. Am I being mean? Pessimistic? Should I at least have the decency to reply to the chap?

Anyway, enough about him (although he deserves  some recognition seen as I’ve just written an entire blog post about him). Here’s an update: My Resilient Friend texted her guy from last night and they’ve arranged a date for Friday. Quick work, girl friend! I told her she’s my role model.

I hope their date looks something like this.

Images: http://lavenderbullet.tumblr.com/post/13113472632

https://twitter.com/#!/briancag/status/153964226476646401/photo/1/large

Because I’m Worth It

Today, I ran into a woman I know. She was looking particularly well this wet December morning. She wore a deep purple cardigan and an emerald green scarf. The colours were striking and really lifted her complexion. I told her all this. She thanked me for the compliment, then announced proudly:

“This morning, I had a look at all the ‘good’ clothes that I only allow myself wear on special occasions, which come around just a few times a year. I suddenly decided not to let these gorgeous garments die in that wardrobe.”

Her exuberance delighted me. I revelled in this woman’s candour. It got me thinking about how often we deny ourselves the “good” things in life. Do we not find ourselves deserving enough? Are we treating ourselves like clumsy children, always afraid that we’ll ruin the niceties? We should remember that life is short. Why relegate our most beautiful and valuable possessions to dark closets and dusty shelves?

"You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection." Buddha

Why not give yourself permission to break out the pretty tea set and rip open the box of Leonidas chocolates that you were going to give your posh co-worker? You are entitled to spray yourself with your most expensive perfume and write letters with the sparkly pen you received three Christmases ago. It’s about time you drank from delicate china and ate off brightly coloured delph, dressed in your finest.

If you have it, why not use it? Who knows when things (economy, finances, health) will change? So why not treat yourself right now? Be nice to that inner child, who believed in delayed gratification to the point of self-denial. Send yourself a new message – one of self-worth and appreciation. You deserve it.

Images: http://kittenwhiskersandteacups.tumblr.com/post/4207590683; http://modymoly.tumblr.com/; http://favefavefave.com/zhaohan/view/1428

Poor-ana

Last night’s premiere of Gráinne Seoige’s Modern Life concentrated on anorexia nervosa, a debilitating and life-threatening illness. The show brought tears to my eyes on a number of occasions. Because I’ve seen and experienced how eating disorders can ruin lives. Because the thought of what it’s doing to innocent young girls kills me.

Size zero is on the lips of every celebrity and fashion guru (about the only thing that passes their lips, I hear you say). In last night’s programme, Gráinne holds up a size zero dress and comments accurately, “This looks like something a child, not a woman, would wear.” She also gives the opinion that models resemble something other than human beings and that they definitely don’t look feminine. She adds, “I would never want to look like them.” And why would you, Ms Seoige? You’re beautiful just as you are. However, if she paid too much attention to internet discussion boards, she could easily feel pressurised to slim down (one clown on Boards.ie suggested that the gorgeous presenter needs to lose a few pounds in order to get work).

Women eye up models’ figures and decide that this is the way they should look too. And why shouldn’t they attempt to be like them? After all, the definition of a model is: “A standard or example for imitation or comparison.”* However, we forget that the reason models are skinny is simply because this body shape best allows designers to showcase their collections. But when models turn into role models and make ridiculous statements such as, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” (not even a thick line of the white stuff, Ms Moss?), our younger generation of impressionable young females is doomed to a lifetime of diets and exercise regimes, and constantly striving for, but never attaining, that elusive “perfect” look.

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It’s virtually impossible to acquire the perfect body image. Even famous folk can’t do it. Despite paying fitness trainers, nutritionists, and personal chefs to make them look good, and even though they have looming red carpet events in clingy designer dresses to motivate them, they still have fat days. And that is why magazine photographs are airbrushed in order to make celebrities  look better (which usually means skinnier). When did it become such a bloody crime to be human?

However dangerous it is to have a teenage girl flick through a glossy magazine, imagine the horrors she can find on the world-wide web? Have you ever heard of a pro-ana website? It’s a site that promotes eating disorders, giving detailed tips on how to beat hunger pangs, purge quietly and hide weight loss from friends and family. It offers support and encouragement to its participants, even motivating them to compete against each other to see who can starve themselves the longest. The images are shocking, upsetting and seriously disturbing. It truly is a scary place. The thought of young girls stumbling across a site like this is terrifying.

“You become so accustomed to that empty feeling in your stomach. You almost start to enjoy it. Because if you know you’re getting very sharp hunger pains and you know how lethargic you’re becoming and you can feel your body kind of deadening under its own weight, you know you’re being successful.” Leanne Waters

But it’s not all about striving for skinniness. One woman in the US, in her quest to achieve a curvier figure, paid a fake doctor to inject her with cement, mineral oil and flat tire sealant. Needless to say, she ended up in hospital, suffering from embarrassment, an empty bank account and a hell of a lot of pain. The grass is always greener on the other size, eh?

I’ll finish off with an amusing anecdote. It’s a perfect example of this constant striving for anything other than what we are. Last week, I was in the changing rooms of a large department store. As I tried on nine dresses (I only bought one, promise!), I overheard a conversation in the next cubicle. A woman was trying on a dress for her Christmas party.

She moaned to the sales assistant, “I’m beat into this dress!”

The shop woman reassured her, “If I had your figure, I’d wear that dress.”

“Well, I have been running five miles a day.”

“Why don’t you wear magic knickers to hold you in? Not that you need it… It’s just that the dress is so clingy,” she quickly added before changing the subject: “Once, a woman had to be cut out of her dress here!”

I snorted. The customer persisted, unperturbed: “Don’t you think this dress flattens my boobs?”

“I don’t know about that… You could buy a pair of padded panties though,” she suggested.

“I don’t need one of them, I have a bum.”

“So do I but it’s in the wrong place,” the sales assistant sighed.

I would have wet my pants but then I would have had to buy the dress (and I didn’t want it because it made my arms look big).

“Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful.” Sophia Loren

*http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/model

Featured Image: http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/010/5/4/Emo_Magazine_Collage_by_Remea.jpg

Images: http://www.healthkicker.com/730791440/pro-ana-borrows-from-healthy-dieting-practices/; http://francesballard.deviantart.com/art/Anti-pro-ana-186511611; http://amazingdata.com/beauty-or-a-beast/; http://the100.ru/en/actors/sofia-loren.html

Single and all loved-up

Being single does not translate as “looking for a partner”. In the words of The Pussycat Dolls (this blog really is high-brow stuff), “I don’t need a man to make me feel good.”

Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m available. I want to be sure of myself and my own self-worth before exchanging digits (or body fluids) with some randomer. I want to love and accept myself completely instead of inviting someone else in to do it for me. I’ve got to really know myself and be who I am (and proud of it) before I can meet the right man for me.

If I put myself out there prematurely, I run the risk of getting into the wrong type of relationship. One that will bring me soaring up in the honeymoon stage before crash landing back to reality. Somebody’s bound to get hurt. Been there, done that, bought the self-help book.

We only attract in what we’re projecting out. So, if you’re feeling needy or unattractive or if you’re beating yourself up over anything and everything, you will surely manifest a relationship with someone controlling or critical or angry (or how about all of the above?)

“If you aren’t happy being single, you will never be happy in a relationship. Get your own life and love it first, then share it.” Unknown author

So for now, I’m tentatively entering into a healthy relationship with myself. A romance that’s guaranteed to last a life-time. It’s uncharted territory, folks. But it’s so worthwhile.

So, be grateful for this time you now have to work on yourself and what makes you happy. Giggle with friends over enormous frothy cappuccinos. Take long walks by the coast. Read. Focus on your passion. Start classes in yoga or art or drama. Dance the night away. Go on a skiing or writers’ holiday. Drive somewhere you’ve never been before, with the windows down and your favourite tunes banging. Just because you’re still single doesn’t mean you’re destined to suffer a long, lonely existence with only your cats and knitting needles for company.

Know that you owe it to yourself to experience self-love first.

Featured image: http://www.kriyayoga.com/wallpapers/widescreen_wallpapers/rose/beautiful_roses.html

Images: http://weheartit.com/entry/16568451; http://www.ilovephotoblogs.com/freelance-photographer-salih-guler-ankara-turkey; http://pulpfactor.com/photography/6840/photography-by-luis-beltran/

Creating your own reality

You know this thing about how we manifest our own reality? Oftentimes, I ponder this exciting yet baffling concept. That and the philosophical riddle: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? If I fabricate my own reality, does anyone else even exist? If you shape your own reality, do I exist outside of your perception of me?


If I am the designer of my own world, why, for example, can I not tell the guy I have a crush on that I like him? If I am the one who makes it all happen, I would confess my feelings for him. And, of course, he would jump at the chance to be with me.

But maybe my thoughts about myself are limiting my possibilities for happiness. He wouldn’t be interested in me. I’ll never experience a functional relationship. I don’t deserve success, prosperity, good health. The wooden blocks I have been using to build my life with are rotten. As a result, the wonderful universe I am hoping to construct lacks a solid foundation. Sooner or later, my world will come crashing down and I am the one who’s going to be crushed.

Well how about this, reality? If you are mine to mould, listen hard to the following instructions. I want (and finally believe I deserve) all the good things this life has stored in abundance for me. If I promise to be positive and gentle with myself, I trust that you will hold up your end of the bargain. Nice doing business with you.

thelostuniversallaws.com

Rushing your potential: chasing the speed of light

You are filled with vibrancy, fire and light. Initially, you may not even see the spark that flickers within you. And then, when you do catch a glimpse of it, it scares you.


Fire is magnificent. It has the power to warm, and to shed light where there is darkness. But it also has the potential for great destruction and devastation. Fire and light are feared and revered in equal measure. However, once you witness the wonder of your iridescence, you want to hurry its complete encapsulation of you. You demand its never-ending shine. Just remember, light is most striking when it brushes against the shadows. Without darkness, light would mean nothing.

The world will not stop turning if your light fades briefly. You are not as important as you think you are. But you are not insignificant either. You are a bright ball of energy, which needs to be polished and conserved. Every time you put your own needs last, do something that you really do not want to do, work so hard that you completely exhaust yourself, or even when you do something wonderful, but before you are ready, you are dimming that fluorescent globe of inner light.

"The mighty oak was once a little nut that stood its ground."

The great oak embraces the sunshine with an abundant crown of leaves. But it has also survived centuries of bleak winters, naked and alone. We fear that we will never be able to put our light to good use so we try to rush it. We have all the time we need. How long did it take the oak to spread its branches? How many generations of birds have nested in its arms? The world will wait for you.

Give yourself space to charge your spirit, to learn and to develop. Check that you can stand on solid ground before you attempt to soar. Get to know yourself. Figure out where you are blocked. Release and expand. Stretch the boundaries. Like a bulb, pushing from beneath the soil, you will grow towards the light and burst into flower.

Find your flame and blow on it. Don’t be afraid. Your fire will not engulf you with its roar. You will use its light to guide you, its heat to invigorate you, and its energy to stimulate your passion. And in time, your soul will sparkle with such incandescence that it will be visible from the heavens…

Images: Google

Unconditional love: unwrapping the greatest gift of all

Let me ask you a question. Do you think it is okay to be angry and impatient with a baby for just lying around all day? For not learning to walk or talk quick enough? She doesn’t offer the world anything of value. She isn’t the director of a successful company or the top student in her class. She isn’t a world-class athlete, a wonderful cook, a loving parent, or a talented professional. She chews on things, gurgles and cries. She observes life with awe. She just is. Why shouldn’t I be angry and impatient with her? She hasn’t done anything to deserve my love!

You probably think that’s crazy talk. Of course you should love a baby! Just because! Now, how about turning some of that unconditional love towards yourself? You are okay. You are magic and magnificence. You are okay even when you do nothing. When you just are. Like an infant, who is perfect in the simplicity of their presence. However, from the moment you learned to do, you’ve been expected to continue doing, and you will keep on doing until you leave your body through death. What a relief!

We are led to believe that our bodies, our actions, and our achievements are more important than our souls. It is more acceptable to constantly work and push ourselves, to endlessly strive for perfection, for more and for better, than to accept ourselves exactly as we are. We have fallen into the trap of believing that we are our work, our relationships, our abilities. However, if any of these self-constructed identities are whipped from us, if we become sick or unmotivated or depressed, if we suffer a loss or a bereavement, and we are no longer strong enough to live up to our self-imposed potential, we feel worthless. We are nothing.

But let me tell you something. It takes a much, much stronger person to be able to do nothing and to still love and accept themselves. To think enough of themselves to value their own health, happiness, and sanity, and to allow themselves to rest, to heal, and to nurture their injured spirits.

I am writing this blog because it’s helping me to make sense of all of this. It’s enabling my own growth and development. And, ideally, some of what I’m writing will register with you too. But though I grasp these insights and spill them onto this page, it’s very easy to lose sight of them. It’s like trying to bottle a cloud or a warm summer breeze. I know it’s there and what it looks and feels like, but I have to experience it again and again before it can become part of me.

I am not what others think of me. This is something I still struggle with. I catch myself when I glow with pride at a compliment or shrink with shame when I’ve been criticised. I am also beginning to understand that the writing that I so love and enjoy is not my worth. Otherwise, it will no longer come from the heart. It will become just another distraction, another addiction to that drug of approval. A number of hits on my page or a handful of praise from friends and colleagues does not make me who I am. My ability to write is not why anybody should love me, and it’s certainly not why I should love myself. It is not why I deserve my space on this planet. The fact that I am here is reason enough.

I have had these realisations before but, like the morning dew on the petal of a flower, they evaporate all too quickly. So, this morning, when I really sat still with them and didn’t run from them, I thought my world was crashing around my ears. I am okay, exactly as I am. I felt totally lost in the forest of my confusion. Where does that leave me? What do I do? How can I just be? I don’t think I can love myself just because… I made eye contact with this panicked stranger in the mirror and cried like the child I had never allowed myself to be.

“Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.” Marianne Williamson

You are okay just as you are. You are not your appearance or your talents or your work. You are not your role as mother or teacher or husband or healer. You are simply you. Unique and beautiful and miraculous. But none of this will mean anything until you’re strong enough to love yourself unconditionally. And when you reach that point, the power and light within you will be glorious.

Ex-communication: unexpected message from an ex

This blog was created out of heart-break. Things had ended badly with an ex and, though I knew deep down that it was for the best, it didn’t stop the hurt and disappointment. After a number of horrifically depressing, grief-ridden days, I couldn’t stick the pain any longer. So I took out a notepad and started to write. It was then that I decided to turn this awful experience into something positive. And so, out of hardship, and after a considerable amount of pushing, a beautiful blog was born.

And out of this blog, I’ve been granted many marvellous things. I’ve rediscovered my passion for writing. I’ve received encouragement, praise and support from friends and family, and even from wonderful strangers with whom I never would have come into contact without this blog. My life feels fuller. I’ve realised that I don’t need a man to make me whole. And I most certainly don’t need a man who’s going to use and disrespect me.

Time really is the greatest healer. I hadn’t had any contact from my ex for almost a month. I know they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder but sometimes, luckily, it just makes it wander. Even though he still has something belonging to a cousin of mine, I’d been feeling too weak and too raw to ask him to return it. I knew if we had contact, and especially if I saw him, I wouldn’t be able to resist his charms.

This guy, despite warnings from loved ones and even from the logical part of my own mind, had a huge effect on me. I enjoyed his company. He was fun and open and vivacious. He was also dangerous and damaged and destructive. But I cared about him. I adored his eyes and his infectious sense of humour. I loved his smile, the way his lips drew back and his dimples deepened. I had started to fall for him. I was always there for him. I helped him and listened to his problems. And then, just like that, he was gone.

He still visited me in my dreams. Constantly. Like I needed to process what had happened and how I was feeling because I hadn’t had the chance to do it in person. I was slowly coming to the conclusion that he just wasn’t good for me and that I was better off without him. Once I got past his dark curls and sparkling green eyes, his immaturity, insecurity and selfishness became visible. When I looked back on how he treated me, I could very clearly see that he hadn’t cared about me as much as I had cared about him. All I’d longed for was a better life for this lost boy who hadn’t grown up. And I genuinely still want that for him. But, even though I still care, I now care more about myself. I recognise that I was putting myself in harm’s way every time I allowed him back into my life. I was too attached. And each time he cut me off, it hurt that bit more.

This heart-breaking episode has shown me so much about what love is and what it definitely isn’t. Ever since I took my first step on this remarkable new journey, I’ve been shown that the most rewarding type of love is the love you give yourself. In my experience, no sooner are you taught a lesson, than you’re tested on it. If our education system is anything to go by, why else do we learn?

So, you can probably guess what happened next. A month after this beguiling and utterly confusing man disappeared from my life, I received a message from him. I opened it with dread and an irritating remnant of hope. He told me that he had noticed that I’d removed him as a friend on Facebook, which he said was “acceptable, considering my behaviour”. He wished me all the best in my future and signed off using his full name. He had always been dramatic. This was probably the fifth time he’d bestowed me with such a final sentiment. He definitely knew his way around those heart-strings! Tears crept behind my eyes, ready to leap out at any moment. I couldn’t help this initial, very physical reaction. But something within me had shifted ever so slightly. Every other time, I’d fallen for his mind-games and engaged him in conversation until he inevitably said something much like the following: I just want to say that you’re an amazing woman. You deserve the best things in life. And bam! He was back! You’d swear we were the over-the-top leading characters in the latest Nicholas Sparks’ romance! This time, however, I simply replied: “Thanks, you too. By the way, my cousin wants his Sopranos box-set back. You can drop it over to him any time.” And that is that. I’m putting all this behind me, once and for all, and I don’t even have to see him. Why torture myself unnecessarily?

Sudden contact from this exhausting ex momentarily robbed me of the serenity I’d recently been enjoying. That familiar see-saw of emotions resurfaced all too easily. I feel sad about the loss of someone I genuinely cared for. But I know now that I was never really helping him, I was merely another of his distractions. And I most definitely wasn’t helping myself. Since we’ve ended it (for the last time, honest!), I’ve had extraordinary insights into the crisscrossed highways of my mind and how I’ve been negotiating them. I recognise that it wasn’t even the loss of him that hurt so badly, it was more the belief that my life lacked something without him. I felt empty and I had nothing to distract myself from that. A surprising sense of gratitude swept over me. I now thank my ex for forcing me to wake up. Because, without him, this blog would never have come into being.

I sat with my feelings until I had a clear picture of what was going on for me. And then I smoothed on a soothing balm prepared by my loved ones in the form of a laugh-a-minute lunch with my family and numerous indignant and reassuring text messages from my closest friends. And then, as my spirits were rising, I found myself drifting towards nature.

I left the iPod at home and walked with my stillness. There was something surreal, something magical about this quiet evening. Frost spread across the grass like icing. Sheep huddled in silence. I stopped and really looked at one of these creatures. It was big and solid and woolly, with a face that reminded me of nursery rhymes. I wondered what it would feel like to hug it. Suddenly, a large flock of birds swooped overhead, dotting the pink and navy sky with black. Dark trees stood stoically against the sunset. A sense of calm washed over me. I breathed in all this beauty and peace and breathed out the heart-break.

I have finally released him.

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