Tag: self esteem

The important truth

The moment you place your self worth in the hands of others is the moment you fail.

Harsh isn’t it?

I’ve done it all my life. I’ve regarded myself as important as long as someone else thinks I am. It feels good to be loved, wanted and needed. But the harsh truth of the matter is, as soon as all that goes away, even for a moment, what is left?

You help someone move homes out of the kindness of your heart, it’s natural to want to help someone else. And soon after along with the empty boxes that person drops off your radar. You find yourself running around after them, texting, calling, asking when you can meet up. Are they doing the same thing? Do you have any messages they’ve sent and you’ve not replied to? Any missed calls? Are they chasing you?

You welcome a new family member into the fold, a relative’s new partner, it’s only natural for families to expand over time. They are lovely. You are two couples who gel well and talk for hours. You are glad because you would have missed the relative if you weren’t a part of their new life. And yet you find yourself embarrassed and confused when your asking to meet up is met with a constant stream of excuses and delays. After a while, you start to ask yourself, have I done something wrong? Was I the only one wanting to continue being a family?

You graduate university. You dragged yourself through it, you did not quit and got your diploma. You started because you weren’t sure which path to take, but as time went on, you wanted to feel the flush of accomplishment. To have achieved something just for you. If it leads to a job where it is useful, great, if not, it is still an accomplishment. So why now, when someone says you are wasting your degree, does it knock you for six? What right of theirs is it to make a judgement or any kind of assumption about your life choices? And WHY does it hurt so much when their feelings are impressed upon you?

I’ll never understand the harsh words or actions of others. And truth be told, I think it’s because I couldn’t treat others that way. Couldn’t is probably the wrong word. The word ‘couldn’t’ implies a choice is made. Like a fork in the road. Standing there deciding whether to take the left fork where you ‘could’ be rude or the right fork where you ‘couldn’t. I don’t think it’s a decision at all. I think it’s simply knowing right from wrong and subconsciously knowing what to do. Ultimately it is the lack of understanding of why someone treats you poorly that sets us apart. If, for one minute we understood, you may say we are giving them free reign and excuses for their actions. 

The truth is there are users in this world and then there are the oblivious folk. It’s hard to tell the difference between the two unless you actually approach them and say that what they did has affected you. I’d like to think in most cases this will be met with a desire to talk through things like adults and reach a common ground for moving forward. 

Other times, it might come to creating boundaries. 

Those that take the piss? In future, say no. Your time on this planet and your life is ticking away. You get no do overs, no time back and certainly shouldn’t feel bad more than you feel good. Do I think these people are sitting at home unhappy like I am? OH GOD NO! They are either oblivious to the fact or know exactly what they are doing and still don’t care. 

Those that don’t answer? Are not worth your time. Again, your time is ticking away and it is precious. For all the minutes you spend trying to get someone else’s attention and love is better off spent making your life worthwhile. Chase something that makes you happy and not sad. Life is fleeting. 

Those who judge your choices? To make choices in the first place took a lot of guts. You made it for you. And no one else. Again, you could question their choices, pluck apart their life and see what you find ‘wrong’ with it. But you aren’t that kind of person, who are you to judge or question. So spend the time you aren’t judging others and spend it in the pool on a hot summer day, singing to Disney songs on a road trip and with people who accept you for you. 

Placing your importance in another’s hands will always be hard to avoid, afterall we love to share our lives and in doing so opinions will be generated by those around us. It feels good to please people with your life story. Whether it is to celebrate or impress is really down to the individual. However you look at it, the need to feel love and acceptance is overwhelming. No matter how you look at it, when you are constantly pleasing people you may start to realise that the person who is no longer pleased is you. When you are constantly on the ‘pleasing others’ path in life you’ll be making choices based on what is right for everyone else. What would others do? How would others act? You fall behind on what you want. Just whose life are you living?

Guess what, it is yours! You are important because this life is yours. You are important because of your kindness, your choices, the way you love unconditionally and you are important enough to know when to instigate a boundary. 

Stop the ‘begging’ calls. 

Stop the 3rd ‘follow-up’ texts. 

STOP letting peoples opinions rule your head.

It hurts, I know. 

If you don’t chase, you might not see them again. 

If you don’t send that text, you might not hear from them again. 

If you ask someone to keep their opinions to themselves, they may not respect it. 

Yes it is all very painful, but the truth is, the important truth, why would you want those people in your life to begin with? What are they adding to your life? Because right now, they are taking away from it. 

It doesn’t mean you have to cut them out or block them in all forms of social interactions. The boundary is within. They have the parts of you that you allow. A ‘hi’ at a family BBQ, a wave at a birthday party and a ‘cheers’ at Christmas. Maybe even a boogie at the next wedding, but primarily you say when, why and if. When you take that power back, their actions can know longer affect your feelings of self-importance. 

And that’s the important truth.  

Photo by Dave Watson
Please check out his work on https://www.instagram.com/davewatson_uk/ or at https://davewatson1980.picfair.com

Imposter, post 101

Imposter syndrome used to confuse me. 

Not that I didn’t understand it. I had just never heard of it before. 

It affects people who have a clear ability to do something and yet doubt it at every step and find it hard to accept accomplishments and accolades. 

I used to think it was a confidence issue or an inability to accept compliments. But recently, I started to see it as both. When it used to come to my writing, I would do it for me. Something to put my thoughts down and out of my head. It was mostly gibberish that could not be wholly understood by others reading it. A spew of consciousness flooding the page before you like a spilled glass of water. 

Today, there is still the occasional spew, but more often than not I talk about my life. I talk about living with PCOS, home life and a majority of the time travel. How can it be hard when you talk about something that is such a large part of your very being? 

I suppose in a way, talking to you about PCOS is a form of therapy, it is definitely cheaper. I also like to think that in a way it is spreading awareness and in turn that awareness will make society more accepting of women like me. I hope in time that someone who looks like me and has fertility struggles won’t feel so alone. I hope that those who read my PCOS blogs who live with the condition themselves will find a friend and those learning about it for the first time will be able to understand the woman in the corner of the room who shies away from prying eyes. 

Then there are the days when I give you the ultimate treat of discussing our lives and the very interesting things that happen to us. Including but obviously not limited to a deflating pool, buying tinned food and the very real saga of why owning a house has its pitfalls! Intriguing, no?

And then, there are the travelling bits. The reason my stomach flips and what makes me so very happy. I’ve been compiling itineraries for over 16 years, over half of my life, fucking hell, lets speed past that little fact… And it brings me joy like nothing else. I worked in my ideal job for over 2.5 years doing just that and I think I have a knack for it. And I am constantly told, you should do this for a living. Welcome to the stage the Imposter Syndrome. He’s here to point out why you can’t do it. HE’s here to drag your accomplishments through the dirt. He’s here to muffle all the voices of the people who have said they love your writing and how much they love tucking themselves into bed at 10pm just to settle down with your blog. 

Yesterday, I posted my 100th blog. Look at me! I’ve had 3238 views and 1987 visitors to my site. On July 18th I reached a new high of 170 views in a single day. I often find myself refreshing the statistics page of my blog app because it doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wonder if it is the need for validation to shut up the Imposter guy but lately he doesn’t sound as loud. In the beginning, I kept my writing all very hush hush and other than sitting at a table in front of some family members when the time to write is upon me, it is very much a behind closed doors activity. Although, lately it has been a very late night, laptop on the bed with the lamp on, annoying Mr W to no end kind of activity, but let us forget about that for a minute. I don’t like the idea of sitting in front of people and typing away, it feels like those writers you see in Starbucks writing the next great American novel. Too flashy for me. I also find I don’t like discussing my blog. If I don’t discuss it I don’t have to hear negative comments or the ‘what if you said it in this way’. It’s like I feel the need to change my voice. And in all honesty it’s taken me a few years to recognise the voice I have and realise that I don’t want to change it. 

Recently, I’ve had the most wonderful comments about how I should write a book. How my travel pieces are transporting people from their sofas to a Piazza in Italy or a hiking trail in Northumberland. I sit their mouth tightly closed because I simply do not know what to say. There will be a little nervous laugh, some kind of look to Mr W and a response like ‘oh no I could never do that’. And the truth is, I don’t know if I could do it. Not from a writing perspective, my writing comes from my brain like a stream. I hardly stop to think. If I think about what to write too much it becomes so involved and pompous I’ll CTRL-A and delete that crap despite the time spent on it. I just can’t do it. It doesn’t feel like me talking. I’m very aware right now that the CTRL-A may be lost on some of you, but I am also aware that’s how I wanted to explain it and I’m the only one to please. Selfish? No. Staying me, only slightly, yes. 

Maybe I will write a book one day, it’s not the writing that scares me. It’s the idea I need to have to write it. Everything I write about here is real. It has happened. In real life, past, present or near future. I’ll discuss plans and ideas. Who wants to read that in a book? I sometimes think that’s the point, write something that shouldn’t work and just maybe it will. 

I sit here, smiling, how on earth did I get to 100 blogs? When I started Mr W said it would be great. And I didn’t listen, I was just stubborn enough to aim to write every day for a year. To set myself the challenge. Maybe now, the tack on to the challenge is to start believing that the imposter guy is wrong. That when someone shares one of my blog posts it’s because it resonated. I didn’t know they had done it, I don’t  know this person from Adam, but they did it and it was the best feeling. Something I wrote spoke to them. They owed me nothing. They don’t even know who I am. That’s often the thought that conflicts with the voice in my head. That when people bring up my writing they are doing it to be kind. Lately I’ve come to realise that mentioning it at all means something, surely if they didn’t like it, if it didn’t mean anything to them, they would keep quiet?

That’s the voice who needs to win this battle against the Imposter guy. 

I suppose it’s determined by who can shout louder on any given day.

For now, here is to blog 101. In all it’s determined glory!

Photo by Dave Watson

Please check out his work on https://www.instagram.com/davewatson_uk/ or at https://davewatson1980.picfair.com

The difference a day makes

Yesterday, after 4 hours of sleep, we forced ourselves out of the front door and into the car. The sun had been in the sky for less than 3 hours and it was shining brightly and extremely hot. Where we were heading called for little clothing but with the reward of being able to cool down.

Conversation was rapid fire as it often is with being over-tired and by the time we pulled into the car park we were raring to go.

As you may have gleaned from previous blogs I’m very uncomfortable in my own skin, hide my body away and this means I have not worn a swimming costume in the UK in over 23 years. Even abroad I’ve only worn one twice in the last 20 years. I usually wear a dress and roll down the straps. Or shorts and a t-shirt. Lately I’ve wanted to push myself to do things I’m scared of. So at 8am yesterday I took off my dress to reveal the swimming costume underneath and stepped onto the cool sand.

The tide was low but the water was cool. Not the gasp-inducing cool that takes your breath away, but the kind of cool that makes you say ‘ooo that’s nice’ and then venture on.

With a lot of slimy and slippery rocks in the water it was slow going and Mr W led me in one baby step at a time. The water felt amazing on my bare legs. Bare legs! Me!

The waves were gentle and before long we were thigh deep. We both agreed not being able to see the large rocks was disconcerting and took a moment to dip down in the water. I felt so free and happy. It was as if with each wave my fears were being cleansed away.

It helps that we were the only ones on the entire shoreline. I’m not naive to that exact fact. It was the reason we went so early. Crowded places, as you may have realised in ‘Panic at the concert’ (link below), are not something we take lightly. So if we can get up early enough to have a place to ourselves we will. It’s also wonderful to say you had a whole beach to yourself!

https://frameworktravel.home.blog/2022/07/16/panic-at-the-concert/

We watched the waves roll the sunlight about for a while longer and turned to walk back to our bags. My body carried itself lighter than ever before. It wasn’t hidden. And I wasn’t ready to cover up just yet.

Mr W took the bags up to the dryer part of the beach while I found a shallow pool of water. At first I sat in its depths feeling it cool my legs. I looked up and saw the odd dog walker on the cliffs. I chided myself for wanting to hide my body again. I splashed the water over myself to shut the thoughts up.

With a devil may care attitude I lay back in the pool and felt the water lap at my shoulders and neck. I knew that half the sandy beach would end up in my hair but I didn’t care. I was laying here, vulnerable and yet enjoying every second.

After 30 or so minutes the cool waters had reduced my skin to goosebumps and the warm sand was calling to me.

Standing up I slowly sauntered to the waiting beach towel. Arms by my side. Not folded. Shoulders back. Not hunched. Head up. Not face down.

I sat on the sand letting the morning sun dry my hair and warm me slowly. Mr W showed me the basics of flying his new drone and we smiled, laughed and talked of our impending trip to Scotland.

The anxiety of the night before felt a million miles away and I high-fived myself mentally. It sounds like such a small victory I know but imagine denying yourself the right to feel the sea on your skin without the cover of clothing for over 20 years.

Mr W and I are already looking for a less rocky beach to continue my carefree activities!

Photo by Dave Watson
Please check out his work on https://www.instagram.com/davewatson_uk/ or at https://davewatson1980.picfair.com

One piece at a time

STOP placing your sense of self worth in other people’s hands. 

I saw something online during the pandemic that completely resonated with me and yet has taken me this long to fully incorporate into my life. It was a simple phrase. At first I thought it sounded quite bitter. Something a narcissist would say. However, as time has gone on and I’ve recalled it in times of sadness or doubt, it’s helped me look after myself and my own. My little circle of people. The people I take a picture of my garden for. The ones I let know that I’ve arrived at my destination in one piece. A funny memory that has popped into my head. A joke I’ve heard. Good news or bad news. 

‘It’s funny, when you quit texting first, you realise who was putting in all the effort.’ 

Let that marinade for a while. 

Are there people in your life whom, if you didn’t reach out first, you’d ever hear from? It is a scary thought and truth be told I wouldn’t necessarily stop reaching out to people to test them. They’re not lab rats and there are always plenty of situations that cause us to be flakey and forget other people for a little while. 

I’m talking about the ones who hurt your heart. The people who you try and try with and still get nowhere. Each time you may approach it differently. Wonder if you’ve done something wrong when you are ignored or cut short. Wonder if that is just how they are and why you’d want to be around it in the first place. When you see it happening to a loved one, who builds up such an image in mind of a yearned for relationship, only to have it crash around them you naturally want to help. You step in and try to play the matchmaker only to find the same attitude directed your way. It’s heart wrenching. 

Only today I encountered something similar. And then snap. The missing puzzle piece snaps into place. The picture is complete. All the edges have aligned. And yet the image is foggy, blurry and confusing. No more trying for people who don’t want to be involved, no more hoping they’ll say yes this time and no more excuses. It’s time for a clearer picture. 

I believe it’s age or experience that has made me sit up straight and swear to myself that the no bullshit approach is the one for me. Remember, the ‘he’s just not that into you movement’? The guy takes the girl on a date, says he’ll call and never does. Then the girl’s friends all swarm around with speeches about how ‘of course he likes you, he’s just busy’ and ‘he’ll call any day now’ or ‘maybe you’re just too pretty for him.’ I mean, how crazy can it be to be honest, he’s not calling, because he does not want to. And the same goes for friends. The same goes for family. 

It is not easy to be blunt. It’s often misconstrued as being a horrible person when you are. I’ve only ever done it once. To my beautiful friend who juggles her dating life with more than a little fear and trepidation. I’ve seen her confused, angry and hurt more than a dozen times in as many years and seeing her hurt more than enough times has led me down the path that leads to Blunt-town. And the truth is, it isn’t an attack on her. It’s an attack on babying her. And leading her to more heartache. 

The truth is, when dating, we build up a mock up of what we want a date to be. Then we build up a mock up of how the next one will go. And soon enough a whole relationship is plotted in our minds because it’s only natural to do so. The fact is, you create for you, to suit you, the other person has their own image and future puzzle pieces. You might have them cut out to fit into your picture, but you might not be in theirs. Maybe you’re sitting in a temporary pile waiting to be picked up. Or maybe discarded. It’s sad when you build up an image in your head only to have it ripped up. 

However, how can this be the other person’s fault? Unless you rolled out the image, pointed at the gap where they fit, and say, so what do you think? I’m unsure as to how they would know what is expected. I’ve been in that situation, I put my heart out there, he watched it jump out of my chest and took a further 3 months of my life to give me it back. It was bruised, exhausted and shaken when I put it back in my chest but if I had been honest I knew when he didn’t nurture it from the start that I could have saved myself a lot of grief. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. 

There is a limit to how many times we can build a picture of expectations up before it lays in tatters and we question why we aren’t good enough. Why don’t they want us? I wish I could reach through this screen and comfort you. Because you are enough. You do not need to chase the people who aren’t chasing you. You need to let go of those expectations. Focus on the puzzle pieces that fit into your life by choice. Not by hammering them in with a closed fist and telling yourself it works. It ruins the beautiful aesthetic of your life. Do you one of the most beautiful things that can happen when you stop chasing, you get messages and calls and they light up your day. Ring ring, this person is thinking about you. Ring ring, answer please, they want to talk to you. Ring ring, you matter. Ring ring, you’re enough. 

Playing devil’s advocate is a long running role for me. I’ll always try and look at things in a multitude of ways just to cover all the bases. But there’s an endgame when it comes to matters of the mind and heart. If your mind is racing through scenarios of why and what if and you can sleep at the end of it. Have at it. But if at the end of the race, you’ve found no consoling scenario, your night was sleepless, your tears are streaming and your heart hurts. You are the only puzzle piece that takes precedent. You are wonderful and you deserve everything because you are enough. Take a step back and realise not everyone thinks the same as you. Not everyone has the same image, picture, puzzle or expectation. We are all built differently. Some of us are laid back, easy going, like those wooden puzzle pieces with the plastic pins that fit into the wooden board. Some of us are intricate, with 2000 quirks and stories. You get the 3-d puzzles that just won’t cooperate. The double-sided dilemmas. And the box with the missing pieces. 

You can’t control the outcome. You can only control how you handle your expectations. The beauty is that unlike a puzzle, life is an ever changing picture. You don’t have control over it and the truth is if you did it wouldn’t be as beautiful. It would be forced. The picture is there waiting. We just haven’t seen it all yet. But piece by piece, one at a time, it’ll all fall into place.    

Photo by Dave Watson

Please check out his work on https://www.instagram.com/davewatson_uk/ or at https://davewatson1980.picfair.com