TW: Discussion of eating issues

Many of you reading this already know about this blog when I started it a little over two years ago, fresh out of graduation. Many of you voiced your support for the blog, to which I say a massive thank you. You didn’t have to read the posts, and yet you did. I am immensely grateful.

Where do I really begin? There’s a lot to say and a lot to get off my chest. I hope at least one person reading this finds it useful, or helpful, or entertaining at least. I know it helps me to write, so I hope you take comfort in it somehow.

I’d like to use this post both for me to get some things off my chest and bring closure to the place I was in when I wrote these previous posts (which I am proud of, may I clarify). When I started the blog two years ago, I was in a very different place. Physically, emotionally and mentally. Want me to sugarcoat it, or be real?

Anyone who knows me well knows I can’t lie. I’m not good at it, and I’m a very expressive person, so you’d know immediately whether or not I was lying. Mainly because the corners of my mouth will curve. Now before you say ‘Er, that sounds like a smile, Veronica’ – it’s not. It’s some creepy weird lip-pursing-thing I do. I also do it when I find someone attractive and get shy. I can’t control it and honestly it’s a very uncomfortable moment. But of course, you wouldn’t know if I was lying over the internet, would you?

My close friends would. They’d be reading this whilst rolling their eyes, followed by a sent text to me with something on the lines of ‘I feel like you’re lying but sure’.

To put it bluntly, and transparently, when I was continuously posting on this blog in 2019, I was bitter, lost, upset and confused all rolled into one. I didn’t know what I wanted in life, I felt immense pressure to be something, I hadn’t moved on and I constantly compared my life to others’. I was already unhappy within myself due to lack of self-esteem, and when I graduated I thought life would instantly change and be better somehow. I read my posts back over the course of this evening and just felt bad. I felt really sad for the 21/22-year-old whom publicly let out her confusion and upset to her social media friends and strangers on the internet, thinking it would help her. I thought it would be therapeutic, which it was to an extent, but also stood as a cry for help, thinking people would reach out and check on me. Except I didn’t want help.

I used to push people away because that was my coping mechanism. As soon as my mental health dipped, with its worst episodes every few weeks (which would span about a week), I would delete my Instagram. I’d turn off my phone. I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for days. I’d ignore people, and when eventually I was forced to talk to them, I was blunt and borderline rude so they would leave me alone. In fact, this was my coping mechanism since I was around fourteen. I’m proud and happy to say it’s no longer the case, but it’s a difficult pattern to break out of. I convinced myself no one cared, that I had no friends, and that I actually hated everyone. I found reasons to pick on my friends in my head, telling myself that they had done something wrong, all so I had an excuse to push them away.

It’s a sunny day. The air is a little cooler than usual, and I’m fully clothed. I’m dipping my toes in the sand and my ankles can feel the cool saltwater on my skin. I’m feeling alright. Five seconds later, a huge wave hits and sweeps me away with it. And suddenly I’m underwater and I can’t come up for air. And eventually, I don’t have the motivation to try. I don’t have the motivation to swim; I want to stay away from everything and be alone. I’m numb. Depression manifests itself in different ways, and for me it hits me like a wave, which, once it hits, I find it extremely hard to find the shore again. It’s important that we talk more about it. It’s important that we don’t feel ashamed to talk about mental health issues. Mental health issues do not equal this stupid idea of ‘crazy’ we once heard of. We need to start somewhere. We need to fight for air.

For those of you who know what I’ve been up to, then you know about my podcast and you know about my entrepreneurial activities. You know how passionate I am about advocating for more mental health discussion. One thing I’ve realised the most about mental health issues is you can experience progress with dips. Sometimes it doesn’t just ‘go away’. Sometimes it comes back. And when it comes back, it can be incredibly difficult to know what to do in those situations. Especially when you run a bloody company all by yourself and have to talk to photographers and MUAs and your manufacturer on the phone and Zoom, unbeknownst to them that you couldn’t get up that day. ‘How’s EMVT?’ they’d ask. I can barely function pal.

I have experienced incredibly bad mental health episodes in the past, but nothing like I experienced in January 2020. I would rather not get into it here as it’s something I’ll be publishing aloud on the podcast. I reached out to one person during this episode. I was abroad at the time and didn’t know what to do, and I reached out over text. They told me to ‘Stop being ridiculous’. It broke my heart and it was then that I decided to never talk about my mental health to anyone ever again.

I lived with my best friend earlier this year and she kindly took me in as a guest in her own house (boss energy when you’re 23 and living in your own house, love that for her). Now, the thing is, when you’re living with your best friend, in her own home may I add, your business tends to become her business. You forget that locking yourself in your bedroom isn’t normal. You forget that the way you eat isn’t normal, or lack of. You forget that your behaviour and attitude isn’t acceptable and actually quite unhealthy. So on top of that, when your best friend happens to be a really great pain-in-the-ASS, it makes for a really interesting dinner conversation. Especially when you’re coerced to come downstairs and not eat upstairs in your room. Which I tried many times. Actually, I tried to skip meals many times, and she noticed. Everything. It was unnerving, it was uncomfortable, and it was the best and most important thing I needed at the time.

When I broke down I finally confessed. I felt like a fraud advocating for mental health discussion when I couldn’t even properly talk about my own. I was scared to be judged, which is exactly why I started said podcast. It made no sense to me. I felt like I was going to be stuck in my habits forever, shutting people off and not knowing how to consume a decent meal that I didn’t count the calories of. What was worse, I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. I didn’t want to listen. I should also add that G’s lovely fiancé has been living with her since the first lockdown, and he was there for support too. I wouldn’t listen to him either. They both deserve medals for how patient they were with me. Like a nut and a nutcracker. But you can’t use a nutcracker – you’ve only got tweezers.

You see, G isn’t your typical friend. She’s that great friend, except ten times better. She goes above and beyond for you. She got me to breaking point and was there to pick up the pieces when I went over the edge. And it was a huge moment for our friendship and for my mental health. It taught me that people do care, that people are good, and that sometimes you have to break to put yourself back together to be whole again. I could make a list of things that she has taught me over the course of our friendship that have helped me immensely. Tattoos can make a huge difference to your body image – which is pretty cool and underrated. It’s okay not to go out all the time – you’re not missing out. Stop trying to please everyone. Grow a bloody backbone and start making decisions for yourself. Embrace your curves and wear that dress – it’s okay to have boobs. You’re not asking for attention by having boobs.

In May this year I experienced something quite traumatic that I mentally blocked in my mind for a while and denied to myself, but it messed with my head for a very long time and affected me in many different ways. It deeply affected the way in which I approached relationships and intimacy. I didn’t know how to process it and frankly, I didn’t want to, because I didn’t want it to be real. G was there every step of the way and pushed and pushed until we talked about it. I snapped back at her. I got angry and I pushed back. She didn’t. She was gentle and patient. She knew exactly how I’d react and was prepared. Perhaps because she knew me, but she’s also solid as a rock and unfortunately has been through a lot in her life. By her pushing the boundaries, she pushed me to talk about it and come to terms with what happened. And here I am, telling a bunch of strangers on the internet. And I’m doing it with a huge smile on my face with so many of my friends available on the next call. Because I’m at peace now.

I might be many things. I might be hard to get ahold of, I might be stubborn at times, but one thing I will always do is own up when I’m wrong. I’ll own up to my mistakes. If I know I’m wrong about something, I will throw my hands up and say so. I don’t mind being wrong. I will happily apologise if I have done something or someone wrong. I wanted to own up to my bitterness from 2019, my growth from 2020-21 and my emotional maturity. I stand by everything I wrote back then. I don’t think you need to drink – I seldom do. I do agree with all of the dating red flags. I do think we should be more selfish, and we should be more spontaneous and ‘send that text’. But I don’t think you were a terrible person, and I don’t think you were as bad as I made you out to be. You were as lost as I was and were good. If you’re reading this, it’s important that you know that.

Life’s too short and I’m no longer here to watch life go by. It hurts me more to do that and look back on my life knowing I willingly hurt and punished myself. I just don’t agree with the attitude and fakery I put on as I typed away at each post, and the social media photos and stories I would post convincing you all I was super social and happy. It was fake back then, but it isn’t now. I don’t agree with the person I was back then. I don’t agree that everyone is as bad as I used to think they were. I let go of the people who hurt me and the ones who it didn’t work out with, friends or whomever.

This post isn’t meant to alarm anyone, or make anyone sad. I actually wanted to illustrate my growth in so many different ways, and thank everyone who played a part. It’s been a crazy two years and I don’t think I’d be alive without the people (you know who you are) who made that difference to my life. I love you, and thank you for helping me become the best version of myself. I’m bloody thriving. If you need to reach out to someone, or think you could benefit from it, this is your sign. I promise it helps. I really do.

I love myself, I love my body, and I’m actually so happy that I can read my old posts back and know I’m not this stubborn, angry, or rude person anymore. I’m finally at peace. I’m not perfect, everyone has dips. I sometimes just finish work or get back from seeing friends, and I just take a minute and smile to myself. This level of content and peace is new to me. It’s really damn nice.

I’m really excited for you all to see the work and love I’ve put into EMVT, a new and better reflection of everything I stand for and everything I have learnt. It’s authentic and demonstrates change. My life got better the day I started EMVT, and it only goes up from here.

Thank you to G and J, and I’m so excited to be your Maid of Honour. xx

Help:

rapecrisis.org.uk/

https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/

A few months ago I reposted a blog post on my Facebook page, written by my fellow Cambridge pal Munya. I met Munya through my best friend at a party quite a few years ago, and I’ve only ever seen him as the ‘life of the party’, the popular and sociable guy who can make you laugh without even trying. It broke my heart to read his blog post in March, and although long overdue, I hope you all can take the time to read this. Instead of linking, which I feel people are generally always less likely to click on, I’ve directly copied and pasted his piece within this post below (with Munya’s permission, of course).

Munya, if you’re reading this, I just wanted to say, there’s not a soul I know (even those that have just heard of you and don’t know you personally) who doesn’t praise you. I sincerely apologise for those that have caused you emotional pain and although I don’t fully understand your experiences, I will do whatever I can to do my part and support change for #BlackLivesMatter. We love you, and you deserve better.

Only black in the village

For years I have spent time looking into the mirror and wondering who am I? Where do I belong? Born in Wembley but spent the majority of my childhood in a busy village just north of Cambridge. Like most children my childhood had its ups and downs. I was a happy child, confident and loved by many. During this point in my life, my family were one of the few black families in my area. Which meant I went through most of my school life being the only black child in my year and most definitely in my class. I’m going to try to regurgitate and express these memories so people can understand how difficult being black can be in this country. In no way shape or form am I writing this to drag the people I grew up with, as we were young and clearly didn’t know any better. I am no angel, there are probably countless times I’ve made ignorant comments about people and groups. But this is my story.

I am going to start in primary school. I know I’m black and anyone who isn’t blind also knows I’m black. Every morning when I wake and prepare myself for the day, I have the same routine. This includes showering, brushing my teeth and having breakfast. And at some point, one mirror within the house will also remind me that I’m black. But being black at home has never meant anything. My parents are black. My siblings are black. Its only after I have stepped out my house that being black became a “thing”. I’m not stupid nor blind, I could see I was different to everyone in my class, all you had to do was look at my class photos. The first incident where my race became a “thing”, I cannot blame anyone who took part because I too didn’t see a problem, we were innocent and only in year one. For a couple of weeks, we would play this make-believe game. Everyone would imagine we are in a candy world and we would imagine little adventures and story lines. In this game I was the chocolate man, and everyone would eat me. Now as I said at this point in my life, this game derived from a place of complete innocence in a bunch of six-year olds. Furthermore, everyone who took part in the game apologised to me as we got older. But it was at this point being black really became apparent to me. I began to realise more and more I was different in comparison to my peers.

When I was around eight years old, I was good friends with a boy in my class. Because of this budding friendship he invited me to his birthday party. For all those who have lived in and around Cambridge, are likely to have heard of planet zoom. For all those who have never heard of planet zoom, planet zoom was a place for children where you’d run, climb, jump into balls pits and other such activities. This was heaven for young children, why many had birthday parties there or just went as an activity during school holidays. As you could expect I was extremely excited. On the Friday at school me and this boy were talking and getting excited about his party tomorrow. Right before we were about to go back into the classroom after lunchtime, he said something peculiar, which I didn’t know what he meant. He told me that his mum was a racist and that I should just be aware. Looking back im not sure how he knew what being a racist meant and I can only assume his mother had told him to express that to me. Not only was I an eight-year-old who suffered from the same trait, twenty-three-year-old me suffers from. When I’m excited, I listen but don’t really take on what’s been said. Also, I’m pretty sure I had no idea what he meant by his mum is racist. Thus, I just nodded and kept it moving. Planet zoom was tomorrow, and maybe his mum being racist meant she was from a country called race, who knows it was irrelevant to me at the time. It was Friday which meant it was golden time. However, when my mate said his mum was racist, I had no idea he meant this woman was not going to talk or even look at me. My strongest memory being when she handed out all the goody bags, I had to collect my own as she just left it on the table, whilst she continued to ignore me. Its only years later I comprehended what being a racist meant and understood his mother’s behaviour. I remember asking if the last bag on the table was for me and she turned around and started speaking to another child. Standing their awkwardly another mother who was present noticed and gave me the goody bag. Imagine ignoring an eight year old child because he has more melanin in his skin than yourself.

We fast forward to year six, my last year in primary school before the big move to secondary school. At this point my parents and my best mates’ parents had allowed us to walk home from school by ourselves. One day after school, as all of children streamed out the school gates, I was approached by a little boy. He asked me “why are you black?”. This question threw me off. Firstly, I had no idea why I was black. Secondly, I really understood the question as “why are you different to everyone else?”. As I stood there, I began to stutter, I am feeling super uncomfortable. I’m in a crowd of white people and I’m being asked to explain my identity. It felt like an eternity between me stumbling over my words and his mother rushing over and profusely apologising, telling her son “you can’t ask people that”. This was the first time I really felt different. I remember walking home looking at all the white people in my area and wondering do they also think of such questions? For the first time thoughts such as “why am I black? “and “why am I different” began to circulate in my brain. Like most children all I ever wanted was to feel like I belong and from this point I felt more and more like an outsider.

Funnily enough, it was only a couple of weeks later I suffered my first blatant racist incident. This incident upsets and angers me to this day because it happened in school and the school didn’t think to tell my parents. With my mum only hearing about what happened to in 2019, when I started talking about it and she had no idea what I was on about. At the time I hadn’t told her because I thought the school would have told her and if I’m honest I was too sure what the word I was called meant. It was a typical lunchtime, year five versus year six at a game of football. I can’t remember exactly what caused the altercation between me and this boy. But let’s go with this, I picked up the ball on the halfway line before skipping past a couple year fives. Dropped my shoulder and left the next defender for dust. After this I stood up the last defender, my step overs bamboozled him causing him to kick me. This was a clear Free kick to the year sixes. You must remember, I’m a year 6, no year 5 can kick me that hard. So, I push and ask what he thinks he’s doing. Which he responds by pushing me back and calling me a “dirty nigger”. Now for how intelligent I’m supposed to be, I’m still trying to understand how I had no idea what he meant by the word “nigger”. I knew it was a bad word but didn’t understand the severity of what it meant and how it applied to my race. It took my well-read friend, to hear it and tell the teacher. After lunchtime, I am now in a lesson clowning around because that’s all I know. A teacher calls me out, takes me to a room and has this boy say he’s “sorry”. Now I have gone back to my class a little confused, still not sure what the word “nigger” meant.

But these incidents were a walk in the park, probably due to my innocence. It was once I hit secondary school when incidents became serious and brought me to some of the lowest points in my life. I had racial slurs said to my face almost daily, from some of the older students and more upsettingly from those I called friends. I look back and realise I was the own creator of my own downfall. This obsession of staying liked and popular meant I regularly allowed violation after violation. I had banana skins thrown at me and left in my school bag a couple times during my secondary school experience. It honestly got to the point where I pretended that I didn’t even like bananas. Because I made the mistake once eating a banana at lunch time and the “ethnic banter” started. Being called a monkey became a normal part of the school day. Some making jokes that my parents paid my school fees using banana skins (I went to a state school).

On top of this, my skin being compared to poo also often occurred. One lunchtime I’d gone to the canteen to go get pasta beans and cheese, which was a typical meal for lunch. When I walked back onto the school field. A group of my “friends” surrounded me and began chanting “Munya is a poo”. I felt so isolated as all these people legit ambushed me and began chanting. It hurt me because not only did I once again feel different and second class to my peers but also it felt premeditated. At a time of my life when adolescents began understanding their identity, I was quickly understanding that being black wasn’t a good thing and I was beneath those around me. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Id convinced myself that anyone can say the word nigger, mainly because I was hearing it every day, said to me, said about me and so on. But my cognition was warped, as long as it came from my friendship group, I would keep my mouth shut.

At one point during secondary school, my school had a maths day. This meant the whole school was off timetable for the day and you’d spend each period doing maths related sessions. After lunch time my friends and I were laughing and joking in the corridor outside the classroom we were waiting to go into. I turned to my mates asking how much they want to bet I could throw my bottle into the bin. They won the bet as I missed, the bottle clipped the side of the bin and then hit this girl on the head. Now, just as I’m about to apologise, she decided to call me a “fucking nigger”. However, this time I was clued up on the word and I wasn’t having it. I started arguing with this girl telling her she can’t call me that. There is now a commotion in the corridors as me and this girl are screaming. A maths teacher comes out to see what’s going on and to diffuse the situation. The teachers asked what happened? We both gave our accounts, with me expressing that she called me a nigger. I couldn’t believe it when the teacher told me I should apologise. After refusing she told me I had to come see her in her room. Where she essentially told me if I didn’t aggravate this student, she wouldn’t have responded with calling me names. I was distraught, I didn’t mean to hit this student, before she called me a nigger, I had my hand up in an apologetic manor and was about to express that same apology via words. Once again, this overwhelming feeling of I should know my place hit me. I didn’t feel any sort of protection from this teacher. I know for a fact several teachers from secondary school had overheard people using racial slurs about me and they’d turn a blind eye to it. I’ve always lived under the oath “snitches get stiches” so I never went to teachers with my problems anyway. Yet, the time I do express that I’ve been racially abused I’m told essentially that I shouldn’t have upset that person and they wouldn’t have responded like that. That day for the first time, after my school football match I cried the whole my whole walk home. My head was spinning, the whole time I was trying to formulate what could I do to stop being different and what could I do to be equal with my peers. I was tired of feeling like a second-class citizen. When I got home and continued to cry in my room. It was the first time, I looked up skin lightening products. My brain was just full of memories of being called “blick” or every time the lights were off people would shout, “where is Munya, smile Munya so we can see you” or people saying they’d never date girls as dark as me, I was too dark. If I am honest, I’m really not that dark, I’m a pretty mid tone for a black person. But when you’re the only black person those words can really make you feel extremely dark. It didn’t help that my mum and little brother are both much lighter than myself. I remember one person saying that they didn’t mind my brother’s blackness but mine was too black.

I’d love to say that was the last time I cried over racism in school. The next story was probably my most scaring situation. A situation I’ve struggled with for years and still struggle with today. The whole situation caused me to cry myself to sleep for a couple of weeks. I am never one to show I’m upset in the moment but once alone, that’s when I cannot control my emotions.

My school had a football match and our goalkeeper and sub keeper were both ill. I volunteered, after spending hours running around trying to find goal keeping gloves, I ended up playing with some winter gloves. The match was coming to an end and we were drawing. After I slip whilst making a clearance the ball rolled to the striker who then scored into the empty net. The game ended 2-1 and Now it was time to face the wrath of some of my teammates, who began to racially abuse me. Calling me a slave, monkey and other such words. I sat in the changing room whilst the abuse was thrown at me “this is why black people shouldn’t be allowed to play football”, “I wouldn’t even have Munya’s parents as my slaves” and things like “if we stop paying Oxfam two pound a month, Munya’s parents won’t be able to afford to send him to this school”. Once again, this narrative I wasn’t good enough to be a state school and the idea my parents had to pay for me to be allowed to go to this school re-emerged. I remember clearly some of my teammates felt so awkward as they quickly packed their bags and left. Once everyone had left, I sat in my changing room and cried for a while. I’m not sure for how long, my guess would anywhere up to thirty minutes. The crying continued the whole way home. I didn’t eat dinner and my mum quickly noticed that it looked like I have been crying. When she asked what happened. I just told her I lost an important game and I messed up. Which she responded it is just a game we all make mistakes. After I went up to my room and continued crying. This was first time I had deep suicidal thoughts. After searching for ways to bleach my skin and straighten my hair, I sat there thinking what’s the point. The feeling of rejection and feeling beneath people was eating me up. Every night for a couple of weeks I would cry till I fell asleep. My parents noticed a slight change in my behaviour, encouraging me talk about it. I wasn’t exactly honest with what was said but Indicated that I was being picked on. Which led to my parents telling me to stand up for myself. I decided to confront my friends, tell them I how I felt. The response I got wasn’t one of those heartfelt apologies. Instead it was a message of get over it as it was just “ethnic banter”. This really messed me up, I became confused, was I over exaggerating? Was all that crying for nothing? This hit me with a huge identity crisis I didn’t know how to feel. Their words also reinforced the idea that if I do something wrong, I deserve the racist abuse.

Months later during the Kony 2012 movement, it had become a new thing for almost anyone to start calling me Kony. Kony and myself shared only one commonality, we are both black. But this almost became my nickname. I didn’t like it, but I’d lost all fight. If I reacted it over exaggerating as its only ethnic banter. Also, if I do something and some retaliates by calling me Kony it was my fault. These two thought processes became doctrine to me.

At a similar time to all this, my family had gone a church weekend away. We were in youth group and asked to write down what we wanted to be when we grew up. This was just after Barack Obama had become president, so I was inspired. I wrote on mine, prime minister of England. We were then asked to reveal what we had written. Once it was my turn to tell the group, what I wanted to be, my response was greeted with “that’s never going to happen”. When I enquired why, the answer I received was “because you’re black”. Now I’m sat in a room full of about 30 white people and my dream was ripped down. For what reason, because I’m black. Once again flooding my brain of thoughts of you’re not good enough and you never will be. I sat really awkwardly and again I learnt when it comes to race to know my place and just accept what’s been said. This hurt me the most, as it happened with Christians, a place where I thought race wouldn’t matter. We fast forward to summer and I’m a Christian youth camp with the same youth group. One of the days a Christian rapper Guvna b comes to our camp as he knows one of the youth leaders. Guvna b asks who can rap and all of sudden people are shouting me and my brothers’ names. Now, have either of us ever expressed being able to rap or even enjoying rapping. We stood awkwardly like no guys; we can’t rap. Our race became a determinant, being black meant we must be able to rap.

Throughout my whole life me and the police haven’t had the greatest relationship. For those who know me, I am not about that life. I grew up in small village, my parents have been able to give opportunities many kids go without. However, the amount of times I have been stopped and searched in comparison to my friends you’d think I’m lying. My first interaction with the police came when I was around 11. It was the summer before secondary school and my friend was staying over. It was early evening and we decided to walk to the shop with my little brother. On our way back, we were stopped by the police who began to question; what was I doing? Where did I live? Who my friend was and why he was with me? The officers repeatedly didn’t believe me when I answered where I lived. We were legitimately less than 50 metres from my house and the officers kept pushing the question where do you live? This is when my friend spoke and said no, they really do live over there. Which they responded by asking why he was with us. My friend explained how we are friends and he was sleeping at my house. At this time, I had no idea the police really had no right to ask me those questions as we had done nothing wrong and were merely walking home with snacks for the sleep over. Obviously when I told my parents they were outraged, as the police really made it seem like I shouldn’t be where I was and continually not believing me when I told them where I live. This interaction left a sour taste in my mouth, especially after I saw my parent’s reaction to me telling them what happened. In spite of that, that was one of the better interactions with the police. As my main issues with being stopped occurred when I was starting sixth form.

A couple of weeks before I started my first day at sixth form, a friend and I had gone into town during our summer break. After a day or going from shop to shop we decided to go sit on Parkers Peace in central Cambridge, a couple of her friends were chilling. About an hour in a situation about 100 metres from breaks out. A young black boy and some woman are getting physical over a football. The young black boy ends up slapping the woman and running off. As a joke, I turned to our group “I bet you when the police turn up, they’ll pick me out and question”. Next thing two officers come over and begin questioning me. I’m pleading my innocence with my friends also being like it wasn’t him. I’m telling them there is more than black boy in Cambridge. Which they respond, “you fit the description”. The statement “you fit the description” became the bane of my life.

I’ve just started sixth form in my first year, it’s the Christmas break and I needed to study so headed into Cambridge to go study in the library. After my long day of sitting on social media and playing Tetris, my mum texted informing me dinner would be ready soon. Anyone from Cambridge understands that cycling is just a way of life. So, I hop onto my bike and start cycling home. I am half-way home and all of sudden a police car flags me. I get off my bike and the questions begin; where have you been? where are you going? Is this bike yours. After I ask, what have I done the? That dreaded statement came out, “There’s been a robbery in the local area, and you fit the description”. After I joke “lemme guess he’s black”, the aggression of the officers increased tenfold. Grabbing me and pushing my bike on the floor as they take my bag, demanding that I have to be searched. One officer is holding me, while the other inspects my bag. After they found a folder, my sociology textbook and a couple of pencils. They put my bag on the floor, got in their car and drove off. I was surprisingly calm, picking up my bag and bike. The whole way home, as I cycled, I just kept thinking I can’t leave library and go home without being suspected of something. This sort of interaction occurred a couple more times, not always physical, but I always matched the description.

The last time I got stopped was probably the most frustrating. I had been at house party and was walking home with my friend. We are walking down the road and I see a police car. I’m now anxious but also expecting to be stopped. I’m telling myself to keep looking forward, pay no attention to the police car. However, the car still pulled over and the routine began. Accept this time I was the only one searched. They found a bag full of mint imperials, my keys and my wallet. Once again, I must stand there, feeling like idiot whilst they search me, and my white friend stands and watches. After, they audacity to wish me a good evening.

However, being black isn’t all bad. I’ve been told “I’m one of the nice ones” and “that I am really nice for a coloured boy.” No one wants to sit next to you on public transport. People always assume if there’s another black person in 20-kilometre radius Il know them. The shock when people hear I live with both my biological parents. When people ask me whether I’m Nigerian and if I can speak African. (I’m Zimbabwean). Also, the attention you get when you walk into shops, even the local security guard in the Tesco always following me around. Clearly too shy to ask for an autograph. And my personal favourite everybody thinks your drug dealer. You hear things like, “You got any Charlie on you”, “how much for a gram”.

Hello my quarantined friends, how are we doing? Well? Grand. So long as you’re taking care of yourself. I keep seeing memes about how we should all be working hard and being productive, to which I say: if you got out of bed, had a shower and ate something, I’m happy for you. Let’s stop putting unnecessary pressures on ourselves when sometimes it can be hard to just get out of bed.

NOW LET’S GET TO BUSINESS. I need to stretch for this.

I consider myself a fairly confident person, but I can be extremely shy in extremely specific and special circumstances, which is incredibly alien for/to me and quite frankly I don’t appreciate it, but I can’t help it and that’s okay. I try my best to be open about what I think or how I feel about something within reason. So long as I think it’d be helpful to me or someone else in the long-run, I’ll voice my feelings and opinions. But I, like everyone else, have reservations and in the past I’ve tended to hold back on saying or doing certain things because of fear. Quarantine and the past year has helped me realise that I’ve regretted the things I never said and the things I didn’t do. As cliché as it sounds, you only have one life, and think about how sad it would be to look back on all of those missed opportunities you wish you’d taken.

So in the past year, I’ve forced myself to do a massive U-turn. And I realised what was holding me back from saying certain things to people or doing things I later wish I’d done: fear. It’s literally only been fear. Now, when I write about things I wish I’d said or done, I don’t mean in a malice way. I would never go out of my way to hurt someone. I mean positive things. I once complimented a stranger’s dress on the tube, and she told me I’d made her week. I never would’ve done that before, but I push myself to because I want to appreciate everything more and I want to be better.

I’ve felt emotional hurt from not being able to put into words things that I wanted to say to someone, and I’ve looked back and wished I could’ve said them. Now I know it’s not easy for many of us out there – especially those who struggle with anxiety and social-related issues. Please don’t take this as me acting like I know everything, because that is far from the case. But more often than not, we actually don’t get the outcomes we’re so afraid of seeing. We’re afraid of rejection, we’re afraid of being mocked, and we’re afraid of feeling ashamed and embarrassed. We’re so focused on what could go wrong that we forget about the idea of it actually going right. Boy is that an amazing feeling when it does.

I used to care about how many Instagram stories I could post per week, or every few weeks, and what they would be. I didn’t want to look ‘weird’, and I didn’t want to annoy anyone. But the truth is, what is the point of stories then? Since when was there a rule, and did I place it on myself? What about posts too? Oh god, have I uploaded too many posts recently? Are these even nice ones? Will people get annoyed of seeing me on their feeds? ‘I’m going to delete this post, it’s not my best’ just why? Why are we always trying to impress others? Do you like it? Keep it then you hot piece of ass.

Last summer I received a text from someone telling me that I shouldn’t have uploaded two posts in two days. To which I reacted with an ‘ok lol xo’. I mean really. REALLY? I’m going to go upload five posts now that you’ve said that and one of them will be of me sticking my middle finger up, with you in the mentions. Sorry, I didn’t realise my double posting affected you so deeply. She posted a photo of herself in a bikini? That’s GREAT, good for her. She’s got a great body and she’s celebrating it. No one asked you to follow her. He’s uploading photos of himself at the gym? Fantastic, I’m proud he’s doing so well for himself. They keep posting photos of their meals? Well that looks damn delicious if I do say so myself. Send me the recipe. Gordon Ramsay is shaking.

I’m tired of rules. I’m tired of social expectations or pressures telling us we’ll look ‘stupid’, ‘lame’, ‘desperate’, ‘weird’, and so on if you say or do what you want and it’s not the ‘norm’. There is no norm. And not only that, but embarrassment lasts for five minutes. How you react to the situation is up to you. You can use it as a learning curve, and remember that not everything is going to go your way and that’s fine. If I asked a guy out, and he said no, guess what? That would be fine. If you chose to do that, I’m really proud of you. I’m proud of you for showing interest and taking that first step. Your life isn’t over if you get rejected; everyone does at some point in their lives. What do you do? You pick yourself up and keep on moving. Be proud of yourself for doing that. Remember my train story? That took everything in me, and I was so focused on the fact I actually did it rather than the guy himself. I am a casanova.

Send that text you think is ‘risky’. It’s not risky, you’ve just built it up so much in your head that you’ve got such an idea of it going wrong. I’ve taken the plunge and gotten so scared of the response that I turned my phone on airplane mode because I was too afraid to check if they’d replied and what they’d said. Then you realise how silly you’re being and you turn your phone on and more often than not it’s a positive response (wink wink). Or it’s not, and you’re like ‘ok cool x5’ (bonus points if you know what I’m referencing). Whatever you said in that text, whether you’re confessing your feelings (be it romantic or just emotional etc) be really proud of yourself for opening up in the first place. I’m tired of social rules. If you like someone, tell them! Worst case scenario is they say ‘oh you’re nice but I like you as a friend’ and boom. Life. Goes. On. Plenty more fish in the sea for me xoxo. It doesn’t mean you’re unlikeable, ugly, weird, or lame – any insult you’re probably throwing at yourself. It just means he/she wasn’t the one for you. You’re still a hot piece, and you’ve got such a great personality, but not everyone is going to like everyone, otherwise that would be problematic for society.

Here’s another example of being more open and confident, albeit in a really unusual way. You’re going to laugh at this, but I used to judge people that didn’t have good music taste: which essentially meant people who didn’t share my own music taste. I never told them, I just silently judged harshly. How shallow and stupid is that? Anyone who liked the charts/top 40, in my eyes, was lame, when in fact some really good songs were on there. What I really meant was I hated the generic EDM music you hear nowadays that was always/still is on there, which I still do (don’t you dare tell me Disclosure is EDM or you will get CUT, pal).

So here I am, I’m just a 22-year-old, who still loves Blink-182 and MCR religiously, but listens to BTS. I SAID IT: I love BTS. And I’m tired of people around me being too embarrassed to share their admiration for BTS. I even have friends who have admitted to me that they hide their listening activity on Spotify. I’m not even one to judge – I’ve done it. Mainly because people used to mock me for what I was listening to. What, we’re embarrassed to love certain music because it’s too ‘poppy’ for others? Listen to Ego and tell me that’s not a bop. I dare you. I’m swaying from side to side and mouthing the words as I type. Now, for the record, there’s nothing embarrassing about it, and it’s not just that – you can listen to Hannah Montana and you shouldn’t have to be embarrassed or conscious about it. Anyone who cares about the music you listen to is not your friend/the one, so forget them. I’m scolding my 16-year-old self. She was ignorant and low-key a bit of a bitch anyway (Ella and Chelsea, you know damn well what I mean). BOTTOM LINE IS: LIKE WHAT YOU WANT. IT’S YOUR DAMN BUSINESS.

Whatever you want to do, provided it doesn’t spread Covid-19 right now nor hurts anyone, bite the bullet and do it. You want to dye your hair? Wear that shirt? YOU BETTER WORK BITCH (oh my God I’m so funny, I really hope you got that reference. But I meant what I said). Do you want to take up a hobby you ‘couldn’t possibly ever be good at’? DO IT. So it doesn’t go your way – big deal! Keep at it, or try something else. No one is going to laugh at you. So you’ve never drawn before and you think you’re awful at it. I guarantee you’re not as bad as you think you are – and it’s also a skill! Anything can be practiced and improved.

We build up ideas of what we ‘shouldn’t’ or ‘can’t possibly’ do and it’s our ‘flight’ or fearful part of our minds blocking us from leaving our comfort zones. I honestly, HONESTLY, cannot stress how important it is to just try and imagine yourself setting that persona of yourself on fire. Wow, that’s not where you thought that sentence was going to go, huh? Just try to remember how short life is, and how you really do have nothing to lose.

*Little note. For the record, I know fully well that you’re not supposed to start sentences with ‘And’ or ‘But’. It’s all part of my informal voice to the readers okay.

If you asked me to explain this to you aloud, I’d struggle to come up with a coherent explanation. That’s why this blog works for me – it allows me to express my thoughts and feelings in a way that (hopefully) makes sense to you all.

I think most of us can agree that we like to do things for other people. We like to help others and we take pleasure in doing so. Listening to someone vent or giving them advice, walking someone home, calling a friend or family member to check on them, accompanying your friend to an interview or an appointment, and even washing up the dishes for someone else are acts of kindness and consideration. The list goes on and I don’t need to go into it.

It then goes further: you put other people first because you want them to be happy. You skip that event because your partner is feeling down and you want to be there for them tonight. You’re choosing between Option X and Option Y and your friend begs you to do Option Y with them because they don’t want to be alone, so you show them support and pick Y even though you wanted X. I don’t know, I’m not going to go into specifics again, because frankly you can probably think of examples yourselves and that way I’m not pushing anyone’s buttons.

As nice as it can be to put others first, sometimes it can get to a point where you’re so focused on other people’s happiness that you forget to take care of your own. I’m not solely talking about relationships here before you roll your eyes, I’m talking about family, friends – anyone you consider close to you that you care for. I’ve spent so much time trying to please people to the extent where it wasn’t making me happy. I made choices that wouldn’t benefit me but would benefit someone else.

I put someone else first for years, and whilst I will never regret it, I regret allowing myself to lose who I ‘was’ in the process. ‘Oh how cliché of you Veronica, are you going to go find yourself in Thailand on your year out?’ No Karen, I’m not, because frankly, I’m not really sure who I was when I left school, and I’m finally in a place where I have room to breathe and put myself first. I don’t really think you can just ‘find yourself’ and that’s that: you’re set for life and you know ‘who you are’. We’re constantly changing and bettering ourselves as individuals and, let’s be honest, you don’t know where you’ll be or who you’ll be in ten years, and I personally love that idea. I love that I don’t know where I’m going to be. How boring is it to plan your life out? The reality is you can’t plan because things always come up out of the blue.

Now I’m not speaking for anyone else when I write about ‘how I’m finally being the most selfish I’ve been in 22 years’. I’m writing about my own experience and if you can relate to it, that’s great (I mean it’s not great obviously because you should put yourself first more but let me just dig that hole a bit deeper). This post, amongst my previous ones and future ones, are never intended for me to convey that I think I’m better than anyone else (I’m keeping my post about drinking in mind as I write this).

I would never name or directly mention anyone in my blog posts unless it’s something positive. People can draw their own conclusions from my posts, and that’s on them. I’ve made subtle references to people in my posts (yeah okay, bar the post that was actually about my relationship before you all scoff and say BUT VERONICA-) but to be honest I only really consult about two people before I publish each blog post, and they sometimes pick up on it. I’m sneaky like that. But it’s never to shame anyone. I can’t say too much as it’ll give it away, but let’s just say Veronica is slick. Just kidding, shoutout to all my bois.

Right, back to the topic – remember that? For pretty much all of my teenage years and young adulthood, I’ve constantly tried to please others. Which is sweet, right? Maybe. Until you’re in your final year of school and applying for university and changing your degree choice based on an opinion of someone who doesn’t really know you well enough to have your best interests at heart. Okay, now I’m calling someone out, if you didn’t pick up on that. And no, I’m not talking about my family. They were incredibly supportive. But see how I’ve always tried to please people, even those that weren’t family?

I applied for a course I didn’t like, to please a wider circle of people that shamed me with ‘What even is that degree?’. Oh, but I really like this course… But maybe you’re right. Maybe because you’re older, you know what’s best. Wrong (I know what some of you are thinking: You’re dumb for letting that happen). Maybe some of you can relate, and maybe you can’t. Ironically, I ended up changing courses and universities, and ended up doing something I really enjoyed at a university I loved.

Throughout my adolescence, I got to a point where I started turning to people for everything. It was as extreme as ‘Should I eat this?’ ‘What do you think I should do here?’ ‘Should I do that?’. It hit me really hard one day when my sister said to me:

‘Why are you asking what you should do? What do you want to do? Why are you letting other people decide for you?’. For so long I was so set on pleasing others to such a great extent that I wasn’t doing things because I wanted to, I was doing it because I was taught to believe that I didn’t know best. I was made to think that by making others happy, I’d be happy. So it affected everything I did until now: university, my relationship, my body image and my appearance (hair colour, use of makeup, weight and dieting). I dyed my hair back brunette in my last year of university not because I wanted to, but because I had people talking my ear off about how blonde didn’t suit me. I loved being blonde (since I confuse people with my Instagram posts, I should mention I am currently blonde). Once I’d dyed it brunette, someone told me they hated it. Honestly, I felt so insecure to have someone so close to me tell me that and frankly, I felt I wasn’t pretty anymore.

I’ve gone through a lot of self-discovery since the start of 2019. I made up my mind in second year that I would write off a masters degree, which I previously only wanted to do because I thought it’d make everyone else happy. I wasn’t enjoying what I was studying and all signs were pointing towards working after graduation. So at the beginning of third year, when everyone was expecting me to apply for a masters, including my supervisor, I finally put my foot down and said no – probably for the first time in a very long time. I knew I wasn’t in the right mindset to do it, and I knew I hadn’t found anything I liked enough to commit to for a whole year of rigorous studying and effort. Since I’m mostly based abroad right now, I also kept being advised to undertake a masters abroad. I knew I didn’t want to, but I considered it, again because I just wanted to make everyone proud. I thought it was what was best. But I needed to start ignoring what other people wanted for me and focus on what I wanted for me. As I finished my dissertation, oddly enough, I finally fell in love with what I was studying because it was what I wanted to do, and I was back on the idea of doing a masters degree.

But it didn’t feel right. I still had time to apply, and at this point I ruled out the UK for my masters. So even though I wanted to do it (albeit on a different course, I’ll get to that) I put it off because something didn’t feel right. I didn’t feel satisfied. Instead, I went and worked for a few months towards the end of 2019, in a job I didn’t like in a field I thought I wanted. Life’s too short to be working in a job you hate. So again, I said no. I thought ‘this isn’t worth it’ and I left. Now I know it’s not easy to do so when you’re living away from home and you have responsibilities, but there are so many opportunities out there that you don’t even know about, and if you’re miserable, don’t be afraid to pack your bags. It’s scary, but you will thank yourself later.

My family, friends, family friends, teachers and lecturers have been supportive of everything I’ve done, but I still always wanted to please them. I could read them, and I knew what they wanted for me, and I wanted to be that for them. Everyone has always been supportive, but I’ve always looked to everyone and anyone for full guidance that I realised maybe I didn’t want.

I’d had enough and wanted to do exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to apply for a masters for me and no one else. A good friend of mine, Mariya (lots of love if you’re reading this), gave me a deep-thinking moment that my sister once gave me. We were speaking a couple months ago and she asked me why I wasn’t considering other universities – just my old one. We both knew why, and she and I both knew I wasn’t doing it for me and she called me out on it. I wasn’t doing it because it was a great university. I was holding on to a string that I needed to let go and I needed to experience other things, but I was afraid of change. It gave me a lot to think about and I actually attribute a lot to her for giving me a bit of a kick up the bum that I needed. Again Veronica, you’re not doing this for yourself.

Applying to D (along with other universities) for my postgraduate degree was one of the most satisfying things I have ever done for myself. I kept it incredibly private. No one told me to apply, and no one knew what course I was applying for. I told my mum about my application after I’d applied, and she was ecstatic (she’s a big fan). I was happy she was happy, but I also took comfort in knowing that my choice wasn’t because of her or anyone else. I was happy to have her support though, as always. So when I got an offer, I immediately knew I had to accept. But one thing was holding me back, and that was waiting to hear from the other universities. I hung onto my old university and I felt almost guilty for not waiting for them, because part of me so badly wanted to return. But part of me knew I also wouldn’t be going back for me.

I promised myself that I would start putting myself first. Something as small as getting my ear pierced (I felt like such a badass leaving the parlour because I’m nice and lame like that – mind your damn business), to dyeing my hair, to something as big as my masters decision and my job. I’m working in a job that I love. I’m not posting pictures that I think will make me look a certain way. I post funny Instagram stories because I want to. If I look ‘weird’, I look weird. If I look stuck-up if I post a selfie, I look stuck-up. I’m done trying to please everyone. I post a photo because I like it and not because it fits my ‘Instagram aesthetic’. I post a photo even if you don’t think I look my best.

Lastly, and this comes from a sincerely genuine place, I’m incredibly happy focusing only on myself. I dated quite a bit in the latter half of last year, and I’m entering 2020 just wanting to make myself happy and me only. I would never write anything off, but part of pleasing me and making sure I make uninfluenced decisions, at least until I know fully how to, is to just put myself first after having put one person first primarily for years.

To you, the reader, you might think of what I write as not a big deal. But it was to me. It is to me. I’ve faced so much pressure to act and be a certain way to please others and not myself. And I’m tired of it. Karen may not agree with my hair colour, or my ear piercing, or my degree choice, or my outfit choices, or my silly Instagram posts where I make my dog a meme, and that’s fine. I’m tired of unsolicited advice and truthfully, unless I’m in danger emotionally, mentally or physically, I do not really want your opinion. I’m sorry – I’ve just spent so long trying to overcome them. If it’s negative, please keep it to yourself. If I ask you what you think of my blonde hair, I welcome your opinion. Otherwise, please don’t message me out of the blue telling me I’m fake because I now have blonde hair (yes, that really happened). I don’t aim to please you with my hair. Not anymore.

I’m sure this one is a bit of a controversial post but I think it needs to be discussed.

For those of you who don’t know, Facetune is an editing app where you can take a photo and alter its colours, shapes and so on. You can whiten your teeth, thin your face, smooth over any blemishes, and make your butt look curvier and your waist slimmer. The possibilities are pretty endless when it comes to Facetune and editing a photo. It’s great if you’re just trying to cover certain things like acne, because when I was 13 and my friends and I were getting spots, we didn’t have the ability to just cover them up digitally so we’d overdo it on the concealer. Up those photos went on Facebook showcasing every blemish we had. In a way, it either forced us to embrace it or we wouldn’t post the photos at all.

But here’s the big problem with Facetune: a lot of people aren’t solely using it to cover up blemishes or things like that. They’re using it to do what a lot of them won’t admit, and that’s to make themselves look curvier or slimmer. I’ll just make my arms a bit smaller here, and my waist a bit narrower there, and OH-GOD-MY-BUTT-HAS-CELLULITE-IN-THAT-BIKINI-SO-LET’S-SMOOTH-THAT-OUT. Because God forbid I have a bit of what most women naturally have and doesn’t actually make me any less attractive or loveable.

The thing is, it’s not our faults for being driven to use Facetune in these ways. You see, on a daily basis, we’re told to ‘love’ and ‘accept’ ourselves as if it’s something that can be easily done in a day. Yet the comments that we see on other high-profiles online, ridiculing women for their bodies if they have a bit of a tummy pooch (‘She must be pregnant’ LonelyMan14 cries) tell us a different narrative. Suddenly there’s ‘too skinny’, ‘too fat’, and the list goes on. But the thing is, I’m not out here to please LonelyMan14. I’m here to please myself. You are asking for approval and permission every time you edit a photo like that and post it. If posting is what you like to do, and you find you resort to Facetune, just post one photo unedited and see how far you go.

The big point I’m getting at here is that altering photos of yourself furthers your inability to accept yourself. What do I mean? Every time you edit a photo of yourself to make yourself different to who you actually are, you’re not solving a problem, you’re creating one. You’ll look back at those photos and think you look great, and then reality hits and you realise you don’t completely look like that. You’re then overcome with sadness and you either strive to look like that other person in those photos, or you just keep on editing and fuelling this other image of yourself in your head. You’re looking for perfection that doesn’t exist.

But what you fail to realise is, the true difference between Facetune you and the real you is so miniscule. Trust me when I say you would have received the same amount of adoration and ‘likes’ (if that’s what we’re addressing here) you would have had you posted the photo unedited. Because you fail to accept just how beautiful you are whether your waist is 2cm slimmer or 2cm bigger. You’re editing details that truly were not issues in the first place. We love the rawness of your original photo – that photo of you with skin that isn’t as smooth as a barbie: we love that. We think you’re gorgeous anyway. Because we don’t see Facetuned you in person, we see the real you. And you’re actually 10/10. In a world full of Love Island celebrities photoshopping their photos to hell, be your authentic self and exude all that self-love. It’s no secret that many Love Island ‘celebrities’ struggle with body image and mental health behind closed doors, and although we don’t know the full story, we know that this plays a part. Don’t let it get to you. It’s an app and you’re giving it too much power. Turn it off and go put on your favourite pants that make your butt look out of this world and then go see your friends. But maybe delete Facetune first.

“Are you Jewish? Cause you Israeli hot” – Yes, someone really sent me this.

“I guess you’re not Jewish” – was his follow-up.

It’s safe to say online dating or dating apps have become a normal part of social life. I can think of three main dating apps that I know of that are most widely used: Hinge, Bumble, and Tinder, although I know vaguely of others. You’ll find living in the UK (or wherever you are based) that at times you’ll actually come across profiles of people you know, or maybe a friend of a friend that you know of. It’s either hilarious or awkward. I got Tinder for a couple months when I was 18, and I heard my brother laughing hysterically on the other side of the house before he walked into my room holding my profile up on his Tinder dash. I haven’t had Tinder since but I did get some beautiful pick-up lines at the time which I’ll share with you guys later. Another pro life tip: maybe don’t match with your sibling’s friends either even if you think it’s funny.

Throughout your life it’s highly likely that you’re going to come across someone that you find yourself attracted to (duh). You might go out with them, you might marry them, or you might just admire them from afar (obviously not Joe Goldberg style, everyone calm down). I have some incredibly smooth friends who have had great success (you read that in Borat’s voice) with their pick-up lines in bars or other public places. In a way, online apps avoid the fear of rejection you might get asking for someone’s number in said bars. That’s what we’re afraid of: rejection. Apps also have a way similar to Instagram of boosting our self-esteem. You get a match and suddenly you feel really good and excited, and there’s nothing wrong with that! I’ve had friends who have struggled with self-esteem and I’ve seen how dating apps have helped their confidence and put a spring in their step. To be honest, I think we’d be lying if most of us said that didn’t happen to us. It’s just how it is. You get more attention = you tend to feel better about yourself. I’m not saying you necessarily crave the attention, I’m just saying it definitely helps your confidence. Everyone wants to feel wanted at the end of the day, and everyone wants to be loved.

We all have different reasons for using dating apps – some of us don’t have reasons at all; and we just go with the flow. Your reasoning is your business and your business only. You can’t be judged for something that’s your business.

There is no shame in being on dating apps. But I don’t need to tell you all that, do I? At the time of writing this, of those who responded to my poll on Instagram: “Have you ever met a partner or seen someone from an app?”, including Facebook and Instagram, the majority of people answered yes. I have a few very close friends to me that for personal reasons I suggested to join dating apps, and I told them to just try it out, and if they didn’t like it, they could immediately delete it. It’s amazing to see those friends of mine thriving and getting back into dating as well as coming out of their shells. I’d be lying if I said getting Tinder back in 2016 didn’t increase my confidence. I’m a bit of a bad bitch now. Alexa play Bad Guy by Billie Eilish.

Now this isn’t a running advertisement encouraging you all to get onto dating apps and promising that it’ll give you the confidence you need. What are you getting at, Veronica?

Ah yes. The good stuff. The juice.

So I asked people I knew on social media to send in their date experiences (I’ve since decided to make them all anonymous). I warn, this isn’t for children, although I would hope my audience isn’t children anyway. To the individual who sent me a graphic memory of their encounter with a hot ‘but small’ redhead, thank you. I still can’t tell if it was serious or not but you made me choke on my water and that’s what matters. I truly hope you got some action like you said you did and we’re rooting for you. For those of you who have never tried dating apps but are keen to, remember that one bad date doesn’t mean every date will be bad. It also makes for great stories later. I’ve met some great people from dating apps and I’ve had great dating experiences which have oddly even turned into friendships, as I’m sure many of you have too. Without further ado, here are a mixture of mine and my friends’ interesting online dating experiences (I won’t specify who belongs to whom):

1. “I turned up to a first date on a Tuesday, at like 4pm, and he was absolutely off his head on drugs.”
2. “I puked on a guy during sex – oh wait that happened twice.”
3. “Went back to a guy’s house to find he had an obsession with the Beatles. I’m talking twelve pairs of identical John Lennon sunglasses. Posters on the wall. Not ideal”
4. “When this one girl was really late for a date” – side note, it was 45 mins. Wasn’t there a second date, thank you very much?
5. “This was my second date with a girl from a dating app, and it must have been going pretty well because after dinner she took me into a sex shop to describe all the items she enjoyed.”
6. “An hour prior to meeting up, he told me he didn’t want to pay for me, which I thought was weird to mention considering it’s not like I was expecting him to especially beforehand. All was going well regardless and we hit it off until the next day he FaceTimed me from his work toilet and showed him ‘playing with himself’. There wasn’t a second date.”
7. “I kept ignoring her on tinder, and then she found my insta and messaged me saying ‘Why are you ignoring me, sexy?!'”
8. “I met a guy on insta, we were talking for ages then he just randomly blocked me.”
9. “We sat down for drinks and he kept banging on about his philosophy of the world; how he hates everyone and every human being is an idiot. As soon as the bill arrived, not even a second later and without me even flinching, he turned to me with a smug face and said ‘um, I don’t wanna pay for you’ to which I said ‘I didn’t ask you to’. Paid the bill and left.”

So why did I include Instagram and Facebook in my poll?

Because, my beautiful little vermin (yeah that’s a bad name for my readers isn’t it…), I’ve actually heard many-a-story of people meeting through Instagram. It’s less conventional, and no one really uses Facebook in comparison but I obviously had to include it. I can’t say I’ve really met anyone through Instagram myself apart from in a friendly way (for example, through my brother’s music page) and one other person, but I know it happens and why not?

“Dating apps encourage you to focus on looks”

Before you take your stance on this claim, hear me out first. Female widowbirds tend to judge male widowbirds on their tail lengths. If you like and follow the work of David Attenborough, you’ll understand what I mean when it comes to animals being drawn to each other’s appearances. The first thing we are often drawn to is an individual’s appearance, because it is the first thing we see. We often know their appearance before we know their personality. You may see someone attractive across a room, and once you speak to them you either find yourself more attracted to them or you don’t ‘vibe’ with them at all. Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. Whether it’s a dating app, social media, or in person, sometimes you’re just drawn to someone you come across and you can’t explain it. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there is just something that they exude that you’re just drawn to. Pair that with a great personality and looks like you’re about to fall in deep, Veronica.

‘Organic’ meetings

In summer 2019 I was sitting alone at a train station returning to my university city for graduation. An attractive man who I can assume was around my age sat opposite me waiting for a train. We both had earphones in. I was texting a close friend and I told her about said man, and she hyped me up and told me to ask for his number. We made a ‘carpe diem’ pact earlier that summer, agreeing that life was too short and if we wanted to say something to someone we’d do it, so I built up the courage incredibly fast and got up right as my train arrived and told him I thought he was really attractive. I had to repeat myself as he had his earphones in and was clearly really not expecting me to randomly say that, and I immediately ran for my train, but I’m really glad I did it. No response, bad response or a good response, I still did what you’d normally send as an opening line on Bumble. I wouldn’t have done that if I’d sat on my phone the entire time staring at my screen. Try to take more risks because you don’t really have much to lose. Who knows? I could have made his day. I think we partially resort to dating apps because we have a little bit of a guarantee of acceptance, but I think the fear of unknowing is what makes life exciting. I don’t currently use any dating apps for a few reasons but I support them, however I’m also one for making things spontaneous and exciting.

My thoughts

You can still ditch apps and allow for organic and chance meetings. They still happen, of course. You meet people every day. I’ve met awesome people on planes that I still keep in touch with to this day. I once met a guy a few years older than me on a three hour train and we didn’t stop talking the entire time. I never saw him again, but our conversation clicked more than conversations I’ve had with people I’ve spent a lot of my time with at one point. Take your earphones or AirPods or whatever it is out of your ears and focus on what’s around you. Dating apps have so many benefits and don’t make you more isolated; you can still use them in your own time. But choose to be more in the moment, and you might come across something really special. Don’t go on a date and bring out your phone. Your phone might be what led you to that date – it’s done its job. You also don’t need to meet someone ‘organically’ to have something real. I’ve met one person through Instagram that I do truly care about and I’ve met people organically that I ended up wasting my time over. Dating isn’t a game, it’s an experience that you go through and, better or worse, you learn something from every experience.

This is going to be a long one, so if you get to the end, I sincerely appreciate it and thank you.

I’m not a massive drinker. I didn’t drink any alcohol until I turned 18, in my last year of school, and even then I would only drink on occasions and only with certain people. It wasn’t really a trust thing, I just enjoyed drinking with particular people. I didn’t get to see those people often, so I would only really drink every couple of months. It’s pretty much been that way ever since – if I do drink, on average I do it once a month. Sometimes more and sometimes not at all. People would always ask me if I chose not to drink for religious reasons or if it was because I wasn’t ‘allowed’. The truth is I didn’t do it for a particular reason, I just never felt like I wanted to. At school everyone used to just drink to get drunk, and so I didn’t see the point, because I didn’t care about getting drunk. I didn’t think I was better than anyone else though. I still don’t and I don’t see why you would. I don’t smoke or do any sort of drug, but that certainly doesn’t give me any right to judge anyone that does choose to do those things. I might have strong opinions against people close to me doing drugs, but it’s your life, and I shouldn’t judge anyone whose preferences are different to mine; I just care about my friends and as long as they’re safe I’m happy. It’s stupid to think that doing those things makes you a bad person. Do I think that they can make you do stupid things? Obviously. That’s fact. What’s also fact? We do stupid things sober too. That’s life. Move on.

On the first night of my university fresher’s week I hadn’t eaten all day and after pre-drinking with my flatmates in the kitchen, I got so drunk I couldn’t make it out and had to be put to bed. I woke up at 3am completely sober, still in my fancy dress costume, so I got changed and went back to sleep, and woke up feeling absolutely fine. I was gutted I missed out on my first night there, and especially missing out on an opportunity to socialise and make new friends. I felt guilty for making a fool of myself – I didn’t, but whenever I drank it seemed like a level of guilt was attached to me for some reason considering I’d abstained for so long. For the entire rest of the week, I chose to only drink water every night. By that point I knew how to have fun without alcohol anyway, so, to put it bluntly, pretty much relied on my own personality. It was great and I don’t regret it at all, and I had the best time. A few people actually came up to me on separate occasions and insisted I was either drunk or on drugs. I don’t get embarrassed often, I’m an excitable person, and I don’t go to clubs to drink (if you know me well, you know I love to dance) so of course I’m going to dance like a crazy person with all of the excitement and adrenaline rushing through me. I like to go clubbing, I’ll never deny that, but if I go, on most occasions I’ll probably only have one or two drinks, if that.

“Good for you, Veronica! I’m going to stick with my drinks though.” Good for you, pal. You do you. This isn’t a blog post telling you off for drinking, and I’m not boasting about how great my life is because I don’t drink much. I like to drink. I just don’t care for it. Unless I haven’t had it in a while, you’ll never really hear me say “I want to drink/get drunk”. Because I literally will have apple juice and people will insist I’m on crack. I’m not kidding. I think I’m quite weird, and I like to think I’m bubbly and excitable. I laugh at ridiculous things and I’m not afraid to embarrass myself (in a light-hearted way that is different to humiliation). At the same time, I’m a very private person that the next day will go into her shell and will be reluctant to share any personal information with you and will be very reserved. I pick my moments.

So what am I really getting at with this blog post? Well, firstly, I wanted to make the point that you don’t need to drink to socialise. You don’t need to drink to fit in, and you won’t look ‘weird’ if you don’t drink on nights out or at dinners. Part of why I don’t often drink much is to stay healthy (I’m not going to bore you with that whole ‘take care of your liver’ thing, BUT TAKE CARE OF YOUR LIVERS GUYS), so a lot of the time when I’m asked out, I stick to water or something similar. Deep down: No. One. Cares. I’ve never felt pressured when someone has continuously asked why I’m not drinking. They don’t think you’re weird, it’s just not what you usually see as a 22-year-old socialising. I’m not telling anyone to drink less; it’s not my place to do that. However, I do encourage everyone to try to be less dependent on alcohol on nights out or anything similar to have a good time. It genuinely is so fun. At the end of the day, it’s not the alcohol that makes your night better, it’s the company, the music, the atmosphere, and so on. Try to lessen the mentality of ‘I need to be drunk to go clubbing’ or ‘I just need to get drunk and I’ll be fine’. If you’re upset, trust me, alcohol is pretty much the last thing you need.

“But Veronica! You got drunk the other weekend!” Yes I did. Did I say I was an angel abstaining from alcohol for the rest of my life? No. Did I say you’re the spawn of Satan if you drink or get drunk? Again, no. Was it fun to get drunk? It was the first time in a very long time, so yes, it was. But for me, that ‘high’ wore off pretty quickly when I wanted to continue hanging out with my friends and dance and couldn’t because I had to run outside as I was close to being sick and could no longer move. I wanted to keep going, and I told myself that if I hadn’t gone overboard, I could’ve enjoyed the rest of my night. So have one or two drinks today and get drunk next weekend. Or just don’t and see how you get on. Yeah, it’ll be weird at first but you’ll actually get to focus on dancing (WHICH IS WHAT CLUBS ARE FOR, AHEM) or the atmosphere in the bar or your friends’ company.

I should probably add one more downside of drinking: your inhibitions and behaviour. Everyone acts differently when they’re drunk. Some people cry when they’re drunk, some people get aggressive, and some people just become absolute casanovas. You might be drunk, but sometimes your behaviour is just pretty inexcusable. For example, if he/she gets with someone else and claims they’re drunk, pull an Eleven and ‘dump their ass’. Being drunk isn’t an excuse for being an asshole, no matter what.

Enjoy a glass of wine with dinner by all means. Enjoy a Coke with dinner. Have a Coke at that gathering. You don’t always need to drink or get drunk, and I guarantee you’ll have just as much fun if not more.

If you’ve gotten this far, thank you. I’d actually really like to hear your thoughts, so if you agree/disagree, I’m all ears (or eyes I guess?).

A relationship is no one’s business apart from the people involved. It’s unnecessary for you to go and badmouth them every chance you get, and I doubt it’ll help you move on, either. You might be angry or sad about the break-up or how it ended, but it’s important to understand what you learnt from your relationships that you can then use and apply to your next one, or just life generally. I learnt a lot during and after my relationship, mainly from my own doing. I won’t continue writing these ‘what I learnt’ posts, but what can I say? I like to write, and I’ve wanted to articulate this for a while, so I hope it helps someone else.

1. Don’t neglect your friends. Your new relationship might be incredibly exciting and you suddenly want to spend all of your time with this person, but you’re really doing more harm than good by suddenly shoving your friends aside to hang out with your partner. Not only is it rude and makes you look like you don’t care about your friends, but down the line, should anything happen to your relationship, you won’t have those friends to turn to. Not to mention you’ll also miss out on great, memorable moments with them. Find a balance between your social life and relationship. You don’t need to separate your friends and your partner; just make sure you show your friends some love too!
2. Stop assuming things about your partner. Stop assuming you know what they’re thinking, and don’t assume they know what you’re thinking. Tell them how you feel; it makes everything so much easier and smoother. Conversations suddenly get so much better and more productive and you’re less likely to waste time and energy arguing.
3. Don’t try to make them jealous. What’s the point in trying to make them feel insecure, and why would you want that? Would you like it if it was done to you?
4. You don’t have to like everything that they like, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be different to them – it’s good. Be yourself and be proud of what you like: music, art, films etc. You can introduce each other to things, but if you don’t like something they show you, don’t feel obliged to like it, just respect it. If they don’t like something of yours and they continuously mock it, don’t tolerate it. You don’t need to get angry, but make it clear that it’s what you like and that should be respected.
5. Trust and communication are the two most important things in a relationship. Quite obvious, right? You’d be surprised. If they’re asking you to stop talking to every individual of the opposite sex because it makes them feel uncomfortable, chances are they’re not exactly the most trusting of you, and that’s a real issue. Unless you’re giving them a reason to feel uncomfortable, it’s worth having a conversation about.
6. I wrote in my last post that you should be able to wear whatever you want. I meant that – including in a relationship. If they don’t like animal prints, that’s their problem, not yours. If you like wearing animal prints, wear them! I really don’t believe it’s fair of anyone to ask their partners to dress differently because they don’t like it. If you disagree, I’m all ears.
7. Don’t ignore warning signs. Anything that your gut tells you is wrong – believe it. Trust it.
8. Don’t feel obliged to do certain things just because your partner is doing them. I mean that – smoking, drinking, etc. I felt a lot of pressure to be a certain way for a long time; as if not smoking weed made me the odd one out. I felt embarrassed for not always wanting to drink, and I felt boring for not always being in the mood to party. I love to socialise, and I do love to party and have fun, but if they’re making you feel like something is wrong with you for not always being up for it and not respecting what you want, they’re not really worth your time.
9. I don’t believe you should ever cheat. There is literally no circumstance where I will tell you otherwise. However, I do believe that sometimes, and only sometimes, you develop feelings for another person (but don’t act on it whilst you’re in a relationship), and whilst it’s obviously not a good thing, it’s a sign you need to understand that perhaps you’re not made for this person you’re with. If you’re feeling things for other people, it’s usually a sign to move on and that the relationship is coming to an end. I’ll throw my hands up and apologise if anyone disagrees, but I’m just sharing what I’ve observed.
10. You shouldn’t ever be afraid to talk to your partner about personal things. They’re there for you and of course you don’t have to go to them about absolutely everything; you have friends and family too! Nevertheless, you should never feel like you’re being judged by venting or expressing your feelings or concerns and so on.
11. Looks aren’t everything, but physical attraction is a huge part of a relationship. You deserve to be complimented – you deserve to be made to feel special and beautiful. A compliment here and there goes a long way. Personally, I think if they’re not complimenting you anymore at all, and you’re continuously doing it, it’s another red flag.
12. A relationship is a two-way street. If they’re not putting in as much effort as you are, reevaluate the situation. If they don’t call you from time to time, they don’t ever express or show that they miss you when you’re apart and they don’t make the effort to see you… you can just do better. You deserve more.
13. Men and women communicate entirely differently. Ladies, we tend to read into things a bit more and we don’t often say what we mean, whereas men tend to say and read things as they hear/see it. We can’t expect our language to be the same, because it’s not. Just say what you mean and are thinking.
14. Put yourself first always. A mistake often made is being so consumed by a relationship that you put them before anything and everything. They become your absolute priority, and in that time you lose yourself and sight of who you are. Suddenly, you break up and you don’t know where to start. Put your mental health, physical health and personal priorities first. Your mental and physical health shouldn’t have to suffer just because you want to always keep them a priority. They can still be a priority but not at the expense of you.
15. Know your worth. It’s difficult when you’ve been with someone for so long and you’ve become comfortable with them but know that it’s time you left. Breaking up can be incredibly difficult and we all deal with it differently, but it can be the best decision you make if you’ve been in a miserable situation, especially for a while. A lot of things in a relationship can be worked out through communication and adjustments, but sometimes we just grow separately as individuals and not together. That’s okay and it’s part of life. You think you’ll be with someone ‘forever’ and suddenly it’s not forever anymore and you feel lost. But then in time you meet someone else who makes you feel all the things your partner didn’t make you feel, or did but not as good, and you wonder why you were so sad.
16. It’s okay to feel angry, but don’t be petty. The best thing you can do is not give it or them attention.
17. I don’t believe in being friends with an ex if you really loved them. Unless you were married or share something like a pet together, there is literally no point. It does no good for anyone and you genuinely get nothing out of it. There’s always going to be ‘something’ there whether you believe it or not. Honestly, I think if you can handle being friends with an ex and eventually watch them be with someone else, did you really love them? Why hurt yourself?
18. Learn to be okay with being single. Love is one of the best things ever, and it’s an amazing feeling to be loved and love someone and share a special bond with them. Relationships are fun and exciting and you get to share amazing moments with a person. But you can also do those things with family and your best friends. Perhaps not in the same way, but you still can. Take time out to take care of yourself – get fit, eat well, read a book, take up a hobby, learn to cook, or educate yourself. Learn to be okay being alone and love your own company before getting into another relationship. You’re pretty damn special, and I promise you someone special will see that one day and it’ll be amazing. Make yourself your number one priority.

Yes, I know – I should probably be writing this when I turn 30, or 40, or 60. Who says I’m not going to do that then, either?

I’ve learnt a lot of things in the past year – particularly as I’ve gone through some (what I would currently call) massive changes in my life. I didn’t learn much at 14, 16, or 18. These ‘changes’ are changes for me because they all disrupted a lifestyle or daily routine, and affected me to a large extent one way or another. They’re not the same, but they’ve all brought me to where I am now, and I’m pretty grateful.

1. I graduated and life is suddenly running at ten times the speed. Yeah, I know it’s a big change and is a given. But I didn’t experience university like the typical university student. I mean, I did, in the sense that I attended it and socialised (to an extent, but you’d be lucky if I went into that). There’s this stigma when you leave university that you instantly need to get it together. Hell, you’re expected to have it together halfway through your final year. ‘What are you doing next year?’ ‘What grad schemes have you been applying for?’ Honestly, just go away. How boring. No wonder so many young people are in jobs they hate and are stuck. Now, I’m not dissing grad schemes at all, in fact I think they’re great; I just think it’s unhealthy to plan everything. I had a conversation with someone the other week and they told me they wanted to be married at 27 and have kids by 29. What if you don’t? Will you feel like a failure? People get married in their 50s or even older, and you’re planning out your 20s like a ticking time bomb. Enjoy your 20s, you need this. Whatever happens happens, and you don’t need a partner to be happy. Yeah, love is damn great, but you’re great on your own too. Enjoy the spontaneity of life and stop worrying about what internship you’re going to get. You’ll get a job, and there’s no race. Wait and find something you love and sink your teeth into it. Nevertheless, graduating was definitely a shock to the system. I have a lot of regrets, and not making the most of university life was one of them. So for Christ’s sake, if you’re reading this and are doing some kind of further education, try to make the most of it and don’t leave every chance you get.
2. You might be with your partner for a long time, but don’t hang onto them if it’s not working out and stay in the relationship anyway. Don’t stay in the relationship if you’re not happy. You’re a free individual; do whatever the hell you want. You have to be selfish sometimes; it’s healthy. Yeah, you can be selfish for the wrong reasons, but if caring for yourself means you have to sacrifice certain things, do it. Your health is the most important thing. Don’t ignore the red flags and warning signs. Go with your gut, and if they’re not treating you the way you know should be treated, stop making excuses for them. It’s worse if they don’t have an excuse. Oh man, get out of there.
3. Don’t be afraid to enjoy sex and educate yourself on it. There is way too much stigma around this, and I feel being at university has alleviated this slightly. If you want to sleep with 10 people, go! If that’s not your thing, great! You’re not suddenly a terrible person if you like to have sex whether it’s with one person or twelve. Explore your own bodies and talk to your friends about it – no, you don’t have to speak to your entire friendship group, but speak to a friend or two that you can trust. You don’t have to share tips, but it helps a great deal to talk about our bodies and sex-related things.
4. This might sound silly, but don’t be a vegan or vegetarian if you don’t want to. It’s great for the environment and for the animals (and based on the many books I’ve read, your health, but don’t quote me on that please). However, if anyone is pressuring you to do it, remove yourself from the situation and take a step back. Respect each other’s boundaries.
5. DIETS. Oh my goodness. I can’t deal with this one. It’ll take me so long. Basically, just go and eat that piece of cake. Screw keto – you’re worth so much more than abs or capped shoulders. If eating better makes you feel good, great – I know the feeling. But for the love of GOD, stop dieting. I’ve been doing it since I was 16 when I had no reason to. There is a difference between making better choices and restricting. Don’t go down the latter hole, please. Not worth it, and you miss out on great food. Just take care of your body and don’t be afraid to eat. But we’ll get into eating later.
6. Delete Instagram when you feel it’s getting too much – you’re not missing out on your social life. Trust me. I have a love-hate relationship with this app, mainly because it’s so easy to get consumed by it, but once you do, it’s like a hit of dopamine, and don’t deny it. You love the attention, right? We all do. Has that person watched my story? Why haven’t they watched it? Why haven’t they liked my photo? Why did he like hers/his? I can tell you one thing – a like means nothing. So chill out, and stop worrying about a virtual click. If she/he likes you, you don’t have to wonder or worry. Remember that. Stop comparing your likes to someone else’s, or trying to ‘post at the right time’. You’re way more appealing than the number of likes you have.
7. Friends can be flaky and it sucks. But it doesn’t mean they’re bad friends. We all do it – we forget to text back, we didn’t RSVP, or we cancelled slightly last minute. Stuff happens, and we’re all in the same boat. Unless someone is actually treating you like you’re not worth their time, be patient with them – but be wary.
8. It’s okay to date, it’s okay to see different people, but if you don’t like someone, tell them. I’m guilty of ghosting and I hate it, because too often I don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. But you’re hurting them more by ghosting them, so please just message them back if you’re actually not interested. They’ll appreciate it. And on that note, if you like someone and are actually seeing them, don’t go sleeping with someone else. If you would be hurt if it happened to you, then don’t do it.
9. On that note – cheating. I’ve only been in one serious relationship but I’ve seen this happen with people close to me. If you cheat, you’re actually just a bit of an asshole. Sorry. I wasn’t going to swear on my post, but there’s an excuse here. Man, if they cheat on you, it shows how highly they thought of you in the first place. You can do better. You will. For the love of God, don’t cheat on them. If you really think it’s worth ruining something, break up with them first and then do whatever the hell you want.
10. Talk to your parents. It’s not ‘uncool’ to call your parents. Seriously. They love you and miss you, and it means a lot to them when you let them know you’re thinking of them.
11. Wear whatever you want. Seriously, just do it. No one actually cares, and if they do, so? It’s your life. If you put it on and feel good about it, go about your day and you’ll be ten times happier once you realise the only opinion that matters is yours.
12. I’ve learnt to adopt a ‘who cares, life’s too short’ attitude. I try to be straightforward, I try to be honest, and I do and wear what I want. Be considerate of everyone around you but just do whatever you want. Life is so short. Send that text, put that top on, take that job, go on that trip, ask them out. Whatever. Life is so much better when you can look back on life and say ‘you know what? I’m glad I did it – then at least I know’. The worst thing in life is regret. Again, we’ll get into that later. Maybe.
13. You can take up a hobby at any point in time. You didn’t need to have started it when you were 5, or 12. Everyone starts somewhere, and if you don’t like it, that’s fine too! You can try something else. The whole point of life is experiencing, so try different things – you might meet some really cool people along the way too. Start saying ‘screw it’ and just turn up and try it.
14. It’s okay to enjoy things even if you’re not good at them. It’s okay to enjoy cooking even if you’re not very good at it. It’s fun to play tennis even if you’re shocking at it (like I am). It’s not about the competition all the time. Everyone can improve, and you’re taking the fun out of it if you make everything a competition. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself and suddenly life is a little bit better.