And Breathe…


Take a step outside and shut your eyes. Feel that breeze in the air, take one big breath in and hold.

Keep holding.

And breathe.

Let it all out.

Let the stress leave and the pain subside.

It’s okay to crumble. It’s okay to slip up under the pressure. It’s okay to fall.

But breathe.

Just breathe sweetheart because that really is all that matters.

Through all the heartache and heartbreak. Through the stress and the tears. Through the chaotic whirlwind that’s trying to swallow you whole…just breathe.

I know it hurts. I know you feel like a failure. I know you’re struggling to fight back those tears.

So don’t fight. Just breathe.

You don’t need to fight and be strong for everyone else when you need every ounce of your strength for yourself.

And don’t you worry about a thing because they all understand.

Just breathe.

It’s all going to be okay. You’re always okay. Always have been and always will be.

Just breathe sweetheart.

And don’t forget to smile.

Breathe and smile. Always smiling.

You got this.

You always did.




#NotAllMen but #YesAllWomen

He was clearly making advances. It was clearly indicated that this was headed to the bedroom but I knew I didn’t want to do anything. He told me he didn’t have a condom and suddenly relief poured all over me. If he didn’t have a condom then I could use that as an excuse to not have sex.

How sad is it, that I felt I needed an ‘excuse’ to refuse sex? That I couldn’t simply say no and expect him to stop what he was doing? That my first option was to find an excuse rather than saying no and risk being forced.

No means no.

That didn’t stop him though.

Both the excuse and me saying no didn’t stop him a few hours later.

Apparently no didn’t mean that no that day. Not to him anyway.

The mass molestation in India with the corresponding hashtags: #NotAllMen and #YesAllWomen on Twitter got me thinking about this. I appreciate #NotAllMen are rapists. #NotAllMen take advantage of women. #NotAllMen play with women and hurt them. But #YesAllWomen have experienced this or will experience this.

I have been forced to have sex when I was in a relationship. I have been sexually harassed by a friend. I have been taken advantage of when I was vulnerable. I was spiked not too long ago. I have been sexually assaulted. And yet, I am the one who feels dirty and ashamed of this.

Why? Because we teach women to feel this way. We teach women how not to get raped rather than teaching men that pressuring advances are wrong. And we are told that we simply shouldn’t have put ourselves in such situations. That if we find ourselves in those situations then we’ve probably done something wrong somewhere along the lines.

Society has told us that it’s our fault.

Not all men do these abhorrent acts and some men are, indeed, victims. However, all women do lead lives fearing that, one day, we might get raped. One day we might get assaulted. One day we might get physically or mentally abused.

The friend who sexually harassed me couldn’t understand why I felt scared in my house with him there. He thought he was having fun. The ex-boyfriend couldn’t understand that me having sex because I gave in to him pestering me was wrong. The guy who sexually assaulted me genuinely has no idea that he did, he thinks he did nothing wrong. That I wanted it.

But I didn’t want it. I said no.

#NotAllMen don’t understand the word ‘no’. But #YesAllWomen understand and fear the consequences of saying ‘no’ to men in this 21st yet still very backwards century.

I’m still standing though. We all are.



A Beautiful Contradiction


Let me tell you this. Being told that no feelings had developed, no slight spark after almost 10 weeks of seeing me was potentially one of the most hurtful comments I’ve ever had. Being told that it has all been entirely platonic and being asked to explain why I thought he liked me was a massive kick in the teeth.

I was actually somewhat nice about him in my last post but that’s who I am as a person: I try really hard to see the best in people’s words and actions but the more I think about it, the more I realise that he did mess me around, even if he didn’t mean to. I genuinely don’t believe any objective bystander would tell me I misread his actions and it hurts to feel as though the last 10 weeks were nothing.

That he had no feelings.

It hurts. That’s for sure.

It’s compounded further by the fact I opened up to him. I told him things I would never tell someone I was dating and I have that niggle in my mind that had I not done so he might have liked me. I don’t believe that’s why he ended it but I’m always going to have that doubt that I’m simultaneously too much and not good enough. That I’ve been through so much that I’m damaged goods and not worth anyone’s time.

I’m worth someone’s time though. One day.

But guess who text me at 5am on NYE/New Year’s day?

Okay so it was just a generic ‘Happy New Year x’ text but I do feel kinda of happy that I can 100% tell you I didn’t think of him when I was at this party and yet he thought to send me a text. I mean, yes it was just a generic text he probably sent to all, but he still thought to send me a text me regardless of whether he was drunk or not. My heart jumped and sank a little at the same time when I saw it. Probably because I didn’t expect a text and also because I didn’t hope for him to text me either.

I didn’t reply. I considered it because I wanted to be nice but then I thought, even if he was just trying to be nice, why should I give him the satisfaction of me replying? Most importantly, he hurt me so why should I give him even 10 seconds of my time?

If you couldn’t see how your actions and words hurt me then you really don’t deserve my time.

“Remember that you were art long before he came to admire you, and you’ll continue to be art even when he’s gone”

Mind you, this party I went to? Damn amazing. This fully alcohol-catered-unlimited-free-cocktail-party with a pool (yes, of course I went in!) with lovely people all around me was brilliant. I only knew two people but left with so many friends and most importantly, I went with no expectations and I left with no expectations.

(I also left without my bra, but that’s a story for another day and I promise it’s not sex-related!)

I didn’t go to this party freshly hurt by this guy looking for anyone to make myself feel better. Rebounds never work and one-off rebounds most definitely never work. Jumping straight back in doesn’t allow you to heal.

However, I accidentally met someone.

And I had quite a lovely evening in general.

I had an even more lovely New Year’s Kiss.

And that’s all I’ll say about that because he asked for my number and if I’d see him again but I doubt anything will come of it. However, the fact I don’t care what happens feels even more special right now.

I’m hurt but I’m not crying.
I’m hurt but I’m happy.
I’m on my own but I’m alright with the fact he’s gone.

I feel like a contradiction but I’m a beautiful contradiction at that.