Boys, Take Note

Hello population, I’ve finally found something interesting to talk about in terms of the dating scene. It’s been a long while since I’ve written one of these articles and it seems like my advice may be required once again. Please excuse any possibly offensive/ obscene language. As soon as I find more PG terms, I shall change them.

Here’s the situation. Nice guy exists (often in the form of one of my friends), meets a girl he’s attracted to. Guy dates girl. Girl is not interested. Girl breaks up with him. Guy feels like it was his fault, maybe he’s just too nice or something and got himself friend zoned. Nah bro, the friend zone is not a definitive zone. You aren’t bound there forever. You can walk in and out whenever you like. You are in control of your dating situation. You just have to take control: Be confident, be dominant, be clear. However, there is a difference between showing dominance and being a pompous, over masculine ass. The issue here is generalisation. Not all straight women (ect.) want a guy that’s up front about who they are and what they want. Some like a shy guy, a guy that a woman can wrap around their finger or a guy that will step a side and let the woman wear the pants. Other women may want a guy to take that step. I will try and give you a few tips here on how to excel in the playing field, from a girl that has dated an array of different kinds of guys, none of which were ever able to provide the perfect dating tactics. There were always things that I, as a woman, would have wanted him (whoever he was) to do.

  1. The Friend Zone 

If there’s a girl you like, and have been friends with (and possibly even loved) forever then there’s a good chance she’s friend zoned you. She’s probably seen you as a brother figure, there to look after her and have fun with but not necessarily dating material. Which is weird, because that’s what most women want in a partner. The crucial part you have to play, is changing her perception. You’ll have to be careful and decide whether what you want is worth your friendship. How you change this perception is by being honest. Ask her on a date, and not just as friends.

Make it clear that you want to be her fella, not just her friend, her brother, because you aren’t her brother (hopefully not, in which case, this article may not be for you), you’re perfectly legible to date this girl and if she likes spending time with you then why not see if she wants to take the next step? Normally, I’d suggest a small romantic gesture, but you are not like other men. You are the Friend Zoned man. You already possess all of the habits and information necessary for a highly successful relationship with this woman. What you need to do is make her want you. Show her why you’re sexy. Show her why she shouldn’t want other girls. Show her things your other friends don’t get to see (I’m not sure what I mean by this, but maybe you do, after all, if you’re in this predicament, you may have someone already in your mind). It’s time to stop acting like the brother, and start acting like a possible lover. Enchant her, captivate her. Give her something to be jealous about, protective over.

If she really can’t see you in the way you want to be seen after that then it’s definitely time to move on, but at least you know. A bad truth is better than a good lie. You deserve happiness and it’s time to stop hoping that she’ll be the one to give you that.

2. The Nice Guy

You may be the guy, in a similar predicament to you fellow brother in the Friend Zone, however, this may be on a regular occurrence because you’re ‘just that nice a guy’. this is not a problem with you. Please don’t think you have to stop being nice to girls just because the ones you like keep friend-zoning you after a few dates. The world needs more guys like you. Back in school, as a woman, I too fell in to this category. One even dated my cousin instead, that was gut wrenching. However, hope is not lost you. Keep faith.

What you will need to do is go out and meet lots of new women. Maybe start on line, but joining local and national clubs and societies may also help. In fact, that’s more helpful. You get to meet someone that’s interested in the things that you are. It’s also a lot easier to ask someone after a club event, for a drink afterwards or a walk. Like the friend zoned guy, you need to prove to these women that you can be more than just the brother, more than just the friend. You need to show these women how much you can give and if she’s interested, she will also show you how much she wants to give you too. However, if she doesn’t, know when to walk away. Of course, be her friend, but if she’s not willing to put some effort in, then you don’t need to bother. You can’t make someone like you, or even love you.

So, do read the Friend Zone section if you skipped it, if will help inform this one. You bother need to sell yourselves and show why you are a desirable companion and if they like you, they will do the same. The issue with both kinds of relationship is a lack of dominance and confidence. You need to make your actions clear and feelings known.

3. The Fuck-Girl

I can’t think of an alternative name for this section so feel free to rename it in the comments. You should all know who I’m talking about though, when I use this term. The girl that messes you around, doesn’t know what she wants but is willing to hurt you a load of times until she realises. She realises it’s not you. Rarely does a girl ever decide after all of this dilemma, that what she really needs is you. If you’re in love with a girl like this. Stop, take a breath and run in the opposite direction. Not even worth it. She may seem like it, but she’s not. She’s simply using you to pass time until something ‘better’ comes along. 9/10 times, the next guy is not to your standard and you’ll sit there for days wondering which pavement she scraped this guy up from, but it’s fine. She’s not your concern any more, you’re free. Go out and find a girl that values you. Not all women are going to want to be your girl Monday to Thursday but prefer someone else Friday to Sunday, or perhaps, would rather be independent over this part of the week.

No reason she gives will make up for the way she is treating you. It’s selfish; she’s being selfish. You do not need to stick around or feel obligated to be there for her when, in two days later, she’s likely to be ‘too busy’ for you and you need to ‘take a break’. These women have not matured enough yet so it’s best to let them figure out who they are and what they want from life, by themselves. You may feel bad, or you may not, depending on how many times you’ve argued about it, but it’s best to give second chances and then walk away. Let her run after you and show that you are able to put your foot down. You’re a human being and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. She’d complain if it was the other way around. You have so much more to offer and you could be more appreciated elsewhere.

 

 

I’ll give you three types for now, I think. See if this is able to help anyone out. If you’ve got a situation, feel free to catch me on social media or whatever and I’ll reply via article. Thanks for reading! x

 

 

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My Experience Of The Wedding Industry Pt2: Engagement Competitions

Hello darlings, I recently entered a local engagement competition on Facebook, you may have read ‘My Appeal‘,but probably not. it was something that popped up on my timeline from friends that had liked someone’s post in the competition group page. They had posted their engagement story and a picture of the moment. I thought it seemed like a lovely idea so I looked into it more. There were prizes: a photo shoot, a £50 voucher and various small discounts off of local vendors. The couple that had caught my attention on my timeline had a lot of publicity and exposure on Facebook. I thought: why not and through George and I into the competition.

It was tough.

I had a week to get as many likes on my post as possible. What I realised was this was firstly a popularity contest, secondly a writing contest and thirdly (if you submitted a picture) a beauty contest. To ensure my success, I decided I had to write the story well. I had to have emotion and hilarity and romance. My story is romantic and funny, but not everyone can word things as such. I picked a picture George and I took at my mums on Christmas day a couple hours after he proposed. I had the goods ready and they were pretty high quality, if I do say so myself.

The problem I was going to have was with the popularity bit. I’m a pretty introverted person and often keep to myself despite the fact I come from a big family and have a lot of friends. I didn’t really think they’d help but I messaged them anyway. After this, I think I must have gotten between around 150 likes. The leading couple were at around 220 and it was daunting because they were a lesbian couple. I really did not think I stood a chance against a couple that were potentially getting their likes from the LGBT+ community Facebook groups. I posted all across Twitter and Tumblr, but nothing really happened there. I then remembered that I’m a Pagan; I’m a part of a tight knit community, too. I saw a huge influx of fellow pagan people coming to like the page and I really couldn’t feel any prouder to be apart of such a wonderful community. And then there was also all of the different uni groups I was apart of, finally, there was a benefit to being a student.

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And then Saturday night happened. The leading couple gained around 200 likes and I really did not think I could compete. I felt down about it but George through my phone to the end of the bed and put on a movie, which made me feel much better about it all! The next day, we went out and enjoyed our Valentines day together before he had to go back home. After he went home, I had a sudden burst of faith. I shared the post again everywhere, added more Pagan groups and got my family and friends sharing on Facebook. I went to Instagram and Twitter with #WitchAndTheAtheist, because these things are easier to find with a hashtag, no? I’d gained 250-300 likes. I was far too excited to get the early night I wanted. I won with 10 minutes short of midnight.

I had messages coming at me, likes going through the roof and adrenaline. I really couldn’t believe what was happening and I could not wait to tell George in the morning about what had happened over night.

Of course, while this was all exciting, it wasn’t without drama. Right before I went to bed, a competitor had read through my comments and appeared to be getting argumentative. this worried me a little, I was too tired and excited to handle conflict but I did so well, and with the help of a friend. It wasn’t until I woke up and checked my notifications that I really had to laugh though. Someone had reported my engagement photo for nudity. I thought it looked a little bit suspicious but I chose to ignore it. I won. I didn’t know who did it, but it didn’t really matter.

engagement

But I learnt a few things from this experience:

1. People go crazy for things that are free.

2. Where there’s a popularity contest involved, seek out a large group of people, just like you.

3. People will try and argue and even do petty things when you take things as seriously as they do.

4. Faith is a handy tool to keep about you.

5. There will always be another competition somewhere so don’t feel too downhearted if it doesn’t look like it’s going your way.

6. Entering competitions is a good way to pass a long engagement and keep excited.

7. If you have ulterior motives… such as a best friend having a unpleasant experience with one of the other competitors, this makes you even more eager to win.

Cheers for reading guys, hopefully this won’t be the first and last competition I enter, I had a lot of fun and I hope you have enjoyed reading pt2 and if you haven’t get checked out My Appeal, go for it. The competitions closed now but the post and story still remain.  x

 

My Appeal

My lovely, handsome, beautiful, kind hearted, sweet followers, I would really like it if you could all flock to Facebook and like my engagement story. My fiance and I have entered a competition which ends tomorrow. It’s a small, local thing but we would really like to win it. So if you could all help us, it would be greatly appreciated.

The link is as follows: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10205823464213759&set=gm.183142375386271&type=3&theater

Thank you so much. Blessed be and be blessed all ❤

 

Journey Through Love

At first I looked for a dream.

 

Aspiration,

Inspiration;

But the dreams soon became ‘marish,

A deathly reflection.

 

Then I looked for laughter,

A clown,

Comedian,

Eyebrows;

Until the laughter turned to tears

In disarming silence.

 

Later, I sought only romance,

Which I found meant:

Psychological chains,

Deep discipline,

Dark demands.

No, I did not want that.

 

Last I found an angel,

A knight;

That had a dream,

That had laughter;

That had me.

 

But the angel broke his wings,

And fell far below the ground;

Unsure of himself,

His world;

Of me.

 

Another thing lost without intention,

Did I do this?

Do I break the stars that shine,

And curse them to a sorry fate?

Do I have the Devils hand,

That smothers the ones I love?

Am I the cause of all this suffering?

 

But now I search for a different dream.

Not a musician,

Not a clown,

Not a waiter,

Not a knight.

Only a man.

 

A man who loves without bounds,

A man without fear;

A man that knows what he is;

And who he wants to be-

With me,

Happy.

 

And I swear with my life:

I won’t break you.

The Age of Loneliness

This is so relateable and I feel like I really need to watch this programme.

An author's Life

age of loneliness

When I was first asked if I would consent to being featured in a documentary about loneliness, I was pretty nonplussed.

Although my wife and I had just split up and I was spending at least part of the week living on my own, I still hadn’t come to terms with my own feelings, let alone being ready to talk about them on camera.

Could I really go on the telly and tell people how bereft I felt?

Who would want to hear my tales of woe anyway?

What would my kids say?

What would my mates think?

Come to think of it, I knew the answer to that last question.

Eventually, after some back and forth with the producer about how my story would be handled, I agreed to mull their suggestion over.

That night, I talked to my boys about the documentary.

‘Are you really lonely?’ Joe asked.

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Home Is Where The Heart Is, So They Say

Heyo, so it’s approaching that time of year when students start panicking about where they’re going to move over the summer. After already moving several times since coming to university last year, I hoped to settle down here. I found a house I like. It’s not dirty of messy like the last one. I’ve got nice house mates unlike the first one. I have lots of space, George can come over whenever he’s able to, and it just feels perfect. However, I’ve been told I’m going to have to leave because the landlords have given my house to another group. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this because I was told current tenants would get priority. I’m a current tenant and I didn’t not get priority. So it looks like, what’s left of us, will be looking for a new house. I’m a little bit peeved, I know how manky and tiny students houses can be. I’ve looked round enough of them. I’ve come to the conclusion, from the three landlords I’ve had now, that none of them are any good.

If you are a fellow student I have some advice for you:

Make sure you know what you’re mates are like before you move in with them. If you’re like me, messy but considerate, it will drive you insane if one of your group leaves your communal areas in a mess frequently. At my previous house, this drove me insane. because it was all the time. It’s not so bad every now and again but living in a mess all the time is a nightmare. How are you supposed to organise your work if you can’t even organise your kitchen? If you’re unlike me, and doesn’t understand how to use a bit of Fairy and a sponge, I suggest you learn how before you get slaughtered, or alternatively, if you’ve got one, use a dishwasher. But, make sure you rinse stuff off first. My house mates and I found out far too late. I don’t want you to be susceptible to the same fate as ours.

Mould is a problem I didn’t even realise existed. I mean, in my last house, don’t get my wrong, my windows were grotty as hell when I first moved in, but I didn’t realise walls got it too, until this house. If that’s a problem you’ve got, I suggest a few things: First, wipe it all off with an old flannel and some Dettol Mould spray. That works pretty well for any new mould However, it will take some of the paint off of the walls, but that’s your landlords problem, not yours, hopefully. Secondly, when you have the heating on, unfortunately, you will need to open the windows a little. You’ve got damp problem and you need to heat that water up and waft it out of your house.

Food can be expensive and 99% of the time, I bet you can’t even be bothered to cook. You’re tired, you’ve been working hard (or not) and cooking isn’t even in your vocabulary. Nor is food shopping. But guys, you’ve gotta eat! If you’ve not thought of it, try doing a house shop. Each chip in £5-10 a week. And do house meals, that way, you’ve got at least half the week where you’re going to be eating something good for you. Neither of my two previous houses did this. Well, the first one did, with my other house mate, but not with me and the second well, the living arrangements were as messy as our kitchen! In this house however, we did this and it was cool. it was nice to get to experiment and you got to try new things. Like, I’d never eaten lemon chicken before and my house mate’s was weird and delicious and while I didn’t like it, I really did and I wanted to stop eating it but I couldn’t… you get the picture? Keeping a house together is about team work. Your house mates need to be people you can depend on, work with and have fun with, of course.

I think that’s all of my student housing advice for now. I next want to talk about home. Home can be really subjective. When I say home, I can be talking about 5 different houses and yet none of them are really my ‘home’. My uni house can’t be considered home because I’m getting kicked out of it in 5 months. It’s a temporary solution. Home is something permanent. When I go back to Yeovil, I stay with my fiancé and we move between his mums and dads houses. Neither of these feel like home either, because like my uni house, they are temporary. I move between the two regularly and then I’m off again to Falmouth. I recently realised that moving in with your boyfriend (or in my case, fiancé now) and his family is an odd experience. I call it coming home, because I get to be with the one I love. However, it’s not quite home because I still feel like a guest; I don’t have a history there. It’s a new setting halfway through my story. I felt like that when I lived at my grandparents. It wasn’t my house, but someone else’s. they had different rules, different ways of doing things than I was used to. Then there are my parents houses.

My dad’s house is the one I grew up in as a child until about 14. That one doesn’t quite feel like home any more because: A. it has gone through many changes, B. The rest of my family aren’t there any more and C. It feels like so long ago since I lived there, I was just a kid. It’s got history, I’ll give you that, but it lacks something present, something now. My mum’s is the most like home out of all 5 houses. My mum’s there, my sisters are there, my dog’s there. I lived there very recently, before kind of moving in with George and I still go there a lot. It’s got more of a history and I’ve cooked there. That’s what I have decided the criteria for making a home is. Permanence + Memories + Being able to cook and clean comfortably + Family presence = Home. Family Presence can be taken out of the equation and still mean home, if you live by yourself, you can still be at home. You might have pictures of family or some kind of trace still around of them, they don’t necessarily have to live there with you.

I’ve been thinking about the idea of home and what it means to me personally, for a while. I wondered why I just couldn’t quite feel comfortable anywhere. I began thinking that I just didn’t belong any where and this made me feel very sad. I know now though, that all of these places are what makes up my home. I’m a bit of a traveller at the moment, moving from place to place, and I’m not quite feeling settled, but I know I will soon, once all of the temporary places get replaced for one permanent place. What’s your idea of home?

xx

I Have Returned!

Hello everyone. After a long spell away from WordPress (unfortunately, not from the keyboard) I have returned. I have a whole bunch of new topics to write about and moan about ect. ect. hopefully, for your enjoyment.

Where have I been?! I hear one of you rhetorically ask, well. That is a very good question and I’m glad one of you rhetorically asked it. My being away has been down to a number of this: Struggling to cope with being me, university life and life in general. I’ve found it difficult to stay motivated and happy. The next thing was Christmas. Coming home in it’s self is a massive rukus. I had lots of arguments with relatives (which didn’t help with the moods), I shopped like a hard session at the gym, I poorly attempted to study (which I shall return back to) and I got engaged! Yes, Sam Wiltshire shall, at some point in the hopefully near future, shall become Sam Clarke.

What’s that reader? How did this happen?  Well, It was Christmas. We had a whole line up of places to go and people to see. In the morning we went to my dads and we all had a lovely time. George was acting a little strange in that he refused to take off his coat, despite it not actually being cold. His words were ‘you know what I’m like’. Yes, I do know what you’re like Mister, and you were being weird. But hey, it was Christmas, I wasn’t going to question it. Anyway, we then went to Dorchester to have dinner at his aunts house with his dad’s side of the family. It was an amazing dinner, I must say. Everyone worked so hard and the results were absolutely delicious. So, I told my mother that we would be joinging then at 3.30pm-4.00pm. It was 3.15 but the time we finished dinner. Yes, I was panicking a little. It was going to take 45 minutes to get back to Yeovil. George was dwardling and I was panicking.

He pulled me out into the hall way and asked if I was happy with him. Well, of course I was! I love him so incredibly much and it was Christmas. How can you be mad at anyone on Christmas? Anyway, I was confused. He took me back into the dining room with everyone else, asked how long I wanted to be with him. Forever, of course, was my answer and BOOM. Clarkus gets down on one knee and whips out the box. Overwhelmed all I could do was try to pull him up and kiss him. At this point I’m sure I could imagine the words that were going through his head: Get off me you crazy bitch and just let me propose to you. So naturally, I had to try and compose myself and try to listen to what he was saying and doing and I was just so shocked that the whole thing is a bit of a blur now. I remember seeing this ring glistening in this little box and I remember seeing his face full of happiness and pride. I remember looking like a complete twat in front of his relatives. Somehow, I managed to say yes and he slipped the ring onto my finger. Rose gold ring set with diamonds and an oval cut stone. “It’s something different and it felt like you.” And I agree, it’s perfect.

What I can never forget it all of the pictures his uncle took of us, and how everyone was crying, including me, of course. I was so glad I refrained from putting make up on because if my screwed up facials didn’t ruin those pictures, the running make up would have. Everyone gave us cuddles and, George’s aunt, seeing how I was quivering like a loose leaf in the wind gave me a glass of champagne to wash it all down. I felt like I needed a lot more than just one glass, however, I had a large in take of sherry through the dessert so it was probably best I didn’t over do it. George took everyone but his mum by surprised and I was glad that everyone was as happy as I was. And at least I had a valid excuse for turning up to my mums so late on Christmas day!

natalie hiding

By the time I got to my mums, we’d announced the situation, everyone was chuffed as punch. My step dad ordered me not to plan the wedding the same year as my mums. I of course, like the angel that I am, promised I wouldn’t even consider upstaging my guardian angel. Upon returning to my sisters in the living room they came together as a choir to sing me the chorus of Goodbye My lover by James Blunt. I think that’s probably been the happiest day of my whole miserable existence. I joke, I’m only miserable on, usually, from Monday to Thursday. Luckily, Christmas was on a Friday.

Anyway, I promise this wasn’t just a post about my engagement. After that, in the New Year, I had to return back to reality (turned out I’d been trapped in some kind of  fairytale) and I had a week or two to complete five pieces of work that counted towards my final grade. This, naturally, did not leave any room for enjoyment and leisure. Leaving behind my fiancé was awfully tough. While the work helped to take my mind off of it, it also stressed me out even more than I needed to be. I saw a counsellor during this point. I said I would get myself booked in last semester and I did. It helped a lot to work out what I was feeling and I booked another for next week. All of my deadlines are done now and its a case of writing as much crap as I possibly can, paint stuff, plan ahead for the next semester so I don’t have this womb ache ever again and spend time with my lover man and the family, because I miss them all like hell too. And Pagan Society stuff. Actually, that’s a point. I’ve made quite a bit of progression with that now and we’re planning to take it even further. I’m very excited.

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Thanks for reading, see you in the next post! xx

Why I won’t accept ‘You’ve lost weight’ as a compliment

Weight has never been an issue with me. I like myself the way I am and I’m comfortable. Sure, I get periods of insecurity but I think it’s generally agreed that all women, in fact, all people, that we suffer lapses of self judgement. We are, at times, our own enemies, our harshest critics, but we can also be our own best friends and at  times, we are all we can rely on. So, growing up, I never wanted to be anyone else, physically. Mentally, as some of you may know, I’ve wanted nothing better than to trade minds with someone else that seems more stable, more like they’ve got their shit together and figured out.

Yet, I’ve nearly always held my physical appearance in high regard. I try to eat well, balanced, and I like to keep myself on the go. I go through periods where I may not eat much, out of stress, or eat more than I normally would, out of stress; and I may not do as much exercise, due to work as I find it stressful, or I may do lots more exercise because I’m trying to procrastinate against feeling stressed. This leads to a kind of yoyo effect in weight. The changes aren’t usually that great, up to half a stone recently but it’s enough for people to notice. I don’t usually notice a difference in appearance, except for what the scales say. What I do notice, is how I feel. Sometimes, when I’ve put a couple pounds on, I’m really really happy and nothing could get me down. Recently, I’ve been fucking miserable and I’ve lost quite a few.

People don’t think about this though and it’s frustrating. It’s my understanding that when someone makes the comment of ‘You’ve put on weight’ that it’s meant negatively and they are insulting you. Likewise, the moment someone says ‘You’ve lost weight’ they are being positive, or trying to be, and are trying to pay you a compliment. I’m having trouble processing this right now, because I can be feeling most confident about myself, when someone has the nerve to pull out the ‘You’ve put on weight’ card to knock you down. And it does knock you down because what it feels like they’re really saying is ‘You look fat and ugly today’. Fat, for some reason in this society, seems to correlate with ugly. And God forbid anyone on this planet should be deemed ugly! What would a person have left? Their intelligence? Personality? Strength and speed? Kindness? Skills and talents? Let’s hope that no one should be afforded a compliment based on these merits! Let’s instead compliment someone’s ability at losing some of their body. What frame of mind they’re in doesn’t matter, they must be happy if they’ve lost some weight! And likewise, they must be miserable if they’ve put some on because who could be happy when they’re fat and ugly?

It makes me feel sad when I hear people base their worth out of how much body mass they, or a person that they are looking at, has. There is much more to a person than their appearance. There is so much more that one could compliment, or criticise. A person’s appearance is temporary. It is never fixed because it can not be. It is dependent on the individual’s internal processes and the environment in which they live. These things change. You will change. Why is such importance based on something that, in this life, in this world, does not really matter. How many people, in history, are remembered for being slim? For being big? For being ugly? Beautiful? History does not care. Why do we?

I’ve been brewing this one for a while. It makes me feel sad when I hear the ones I love worry about their weight and how they COULD look in the future. We do not live in the future, we live in the present. Of course, look after yourself today and you SHOULD feel better for it tomorrow but what is the point in wasting your life, focusing on something that, for some, is unlikely to ever happen. I find that the people most conscious about weight, their own and that of others,  are those that really have nothing about getting fat to worry about (underweight-lower healthy weight) and may not ever have anything to worry about. For some people putting on weight is impossible, a challenge. And for others, it can be easy, a challenge not to.

It’s a hard frame of mind, I’m sure, to break out of, judging the worth of yourself and others based on the size, weight and shape of a person’s body and I feel a degree of sorriness to those that feel that they have to criticise, or turn to something meaningless and temporary to compliment or insult. How about instead complimenting the size of their smile? Their healthy habits when you see them? The things they’re good at? Things that matter? This is why I can only take judgements and comments about weight as an insult. The person clearly doesn’t know me well enough to make a comment about something that actually matters.

I get that loved ones can be worried about health which is linked to weight. That’s understandable. A person can’t love you if they don’t worry about you from time to time. HOWEVER, My bones aren’t popping out everywhere. See this as a sign that I am eating well. Compliment that, if you’re really struggling. I can move freely. I can breathe. I can run fast, if my life depends on it. I have no disabilities due to obesity. Compliment my ability to live.

I had this conversation (kind of) with a loved one recently. It was a touchy conversation but after some thought I realised that this was all I wanted to say. I’m not upset about someone worrying about my health. I’m in a bit of a pickle, mentally. But, a person IS going to be aware of their health. Only they know what they are eating (or not). Only they know how much exercise they are doing (or not). If a person is in a deep state of denial, then maybe a doctor should be involved. However, generally, a person knows their own truths. If you’re worried about someone ask them subtly. ‘Do you want to go for a run with me tonight?’ or ‘Prawn pasta salad for dinner?’ is much nicer than saying: ‘You’ve put on weight.’ This is a tip for those reading that know that this applies to them. I hope this helps you. Making a comment isn’t going to make a person more determined. If you love them, you’ve got to get involved with them. Complimenting their soul will make them feel so much better than complimenting the outer shell that’s only going to die in a few years any way.

Cheers guys, thanks for reading. I hope this has helped. It feels good getting crap off my chest. x

 

 

Stop Haunting Me

I want to forget
You.
I need to forget
You.
I need to move on from
Us.

I want to forget your shining smile,
I want to forget how we drove for miles,
I want to forget our very first dance,
I want to forget our future plans.

How do you still linger
On my clothing?
How does your face appear
On everything?
How do I keep you away?
How do I still want you to stay?

I want to forget.
I need to forget.
I need to move on from.

I need to forget your friendly voice,
I need to forget that you were my choice,
I need to forget your loving eyes,
I need to forget all of your lies.

Why are you still here,
Lurking in my dreams,
Paddling in the seas,
Chasing after me?

You pulled the plug,
You walked away.
I’m still here,
Holding tight of what’s dear.

I want to forget.
I need to forget.
I need to move on from.

I need to move on from the cuddles and kisses,
I need to move on from being your missus,
I need to move on from the warmth of your skin,
I need to move on from our passionate sin.

I want to forget you.
I need to forget you.
I need to move on from us.

The Wild Thing

I lay in bed,
With wild thoughts,
And wild dreams,
Of wild things.

And I see you,
The little boy,
With a lion heart,
My wild thing.

And we dance,
A wild dance,
Older now,
But no less wild.

And I tease you,
In a wild way,
Untill we fight,
In a mild way.

Then I laugh,
Wildly,
Untill you see me,
Uncontrollably,
Wildly laughing,
With my big, strong wild thing.

But still silent,
My wild thing,
Makes me feel like
I could sing,
Wildly,
While he roars,
And we chest beat an encore.

In wild fashion,
In my wild way,
I dream of the wild boy,
Who lives to laugh and play.

I know this way,
Wild will get to stay.