Tag: friendship

Say what you mean, mean what you say

Say what you mean, mean what you say

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Everyone knows that when you start new friendships at University, one of the most interesting parts of getting to know everyone is seeing how they operate when they’re on the pull. Or at least, I’ve always found it pretty fascinating…

By second term my friends and I were fully getting to grips with this part of each other’s personalities (and LOVING it). We’d all started to notice who had terrible taste in boys/girls, who attracts a certain type of person, who’s picky, who’s not that bothered, who’s shy about it, who’s really not, and so on.

But one mealtime when my female friend and I were talking to a couple of our boys about this, the discussion got pretty spicy.

Basically, the boys said that they find confident girls really attractive, and that they’d love it if a girl was just straight-up with them about what she wanted. They also said that they think that that’s a pretty universal opinion for boys our age. At which point my female friend and I, both very confident and honest with our feelings, told them that boys our age say that but they don’t actually mean it.

Now we live in a pretty PC world, where some people probably read what I just said and thought it outrageous that we tried to dictate an opinion to those boys. 😮 !!! However, what’s important to consider is why we said what we said. And, before someone gets all keyboard-warrior on me, please remember that things like this are always about personal experience.

Most people my age have no notion of who they are at this point in time: a totally normal and healthy position to be in. So when an individual is confronted with someone who appears to be really confident in themselves, incredibly self-sufficient, and very forthcoming with what they want from a romantic partner, that’s not always going to be super attractive. Sometimes it’s the opposite: it’s kind of intimidating, and makes some people feel a lot of pressure to match the other person’s level of self-awareness.

At this point the boys were seeing what we meant, but weren’t quite with us. So we went on to use some anecdotes for context because everybody lOves an aNeCdOte.

My friend explained how she’s very confident in her sexuality, and isn’t afraid to tell her romantic partners what she wants: exactly what many boys have described as vEry attractive. But in her life this confidence has often been misconstrued by boys as her being ‘too keen’, or ‘down for anything’ and ultimately, a bit of a slut.

And in my own case, I said how I’m really not afraid to be myself even in the early days of getting to know a boy – and I’m not afraid of giving a boy a compliment. However, in the times when I’ve offered to do something for someone I kind of like, or said that they look good, or have replied pretty promptly because I can’t be bothered to play the how-long-do-I-wait-until-I-reply game, I’ve also been seen as ‘too keen’ or ‘too much’ and ultimately, a bit too easy (the PC term for slut).

Our boys were totally with us now.

It also started to become a little clearer why some young women prefer slighter, or quite significantly, older men. Our explanation being that when we’ve spoken to men even just a couple years older than us, we’ve both felt a lot less judgement.

We’re all aware that men are more freely allowed to show their confidence: in fact, there’s intense societal pressure encouraging them to do so. It’s also well known that confident women are not as widely celebrated as confident men. Instead, they’re often feared and belittled. It’s just easier and more acceptable to be perceived as sexy if you’re male and confident.

So yes, my friends may well have meant it when they said that they like a confident girl. As your’s also might. But all my female friend and I were trying to say, is that we wish boys were more honest in saying what they like. If you don’t fancy us, then we’ll survive, people have preferences after all. Just don’t mislead us into thinking you’re attracted to our personalities, and then think us slutty when we stay true to them.

No matter any of our opinions and preferences it’s always better to be honest with people, and to show some R.E.S.P.E.C.T! Whether you fancy the person or not.

Can you be hot AND disabled?

Can you be hot AND disabled?

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

On Monday I had some really gratifying conversations with my group of friends. All the points we made and discussed, are points that I want to write about in future blogs but one in particular sparked this entry.

For a while I’ve been wanting to discuss what it’s like to be disabled in the dating world, but I’ve never really known how to articulate it. The truth is: I find it really unfortunate just how much it probably does affect how I’m perceived by boys, because it’s something about myself that I absolutely cannot control.

When my friend asked me whether I think my disability affects my dating life, my immediate answer was: yes, but I don’t think that anyone ever told me. My response may come as a surprise because as I’ve said before, I’m aware that once someone spends time with me, it’s very easy to forget that I’m disabled.

The thing is though, no matter how confident or independent or self-sufficient I am, I will always be disabled and will always have to live my life with certain adaptations for my health. When people get into a romantic relationship with someone, everyone has some preconceived idea about what it’s going to be like. These preconceptions come from all the popular culture and media we consume on a day to day basis – and have done for years. But very rarely does that popular culture include examples of relationships where one person is physically disabled and the other is not.

In the past year, I’ve gotten particularly impatient with my failed attempts at romance – as you’ve probably noticed hehe. Whenever one has failed, like most people I find myself looking for reassurance that sometimes it can work out. So I look around me, and at the media. But never ever ever ever do I see myself reflected in the relationships shown. I don’t often see couples on the street where one of the two is disabled. I definitely barely see it on Instagram. And I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen a famous person with a physically disabled partner walk a red carpet.

If I have seen a couple like this in the media or popular culture, it’s often felt tokenistic. By this I mean, in television programmes or Snapchat ‘Born Different’ stories it’s examples of severely disabled people and their partners. Whilst it’s (rightfully) always a celebration of those love stories, I still don’t feel represented or particularly comforted by them. And with that, the disability always seems to overwhelm everything else that makes that person attractive. Can you not be hot and disabled? Can that not be a thing too?

I don’t feel disabled enough to relate to those permanently in a wheelchair or with more severe illnesses than I. But then I’m still disabled, so I can’t fully relate to anyone who isn’t.

Since we don’t see examples of couples where one person is (not severely) physically disabled, subconsciously that plays a part in how we date. I’m not trying to say that it makes someone a bad person for not finding someone with a disability attractive, because that might not even play a part in how you feel about them. But then again, the intimidation which might come with how little you can relate to that part of someone’s life and the degree to which you feel prepared to try, might well shape your decision about dating someone.

Explaining what it’s like to be disabled to someone who has no idea, is an impossible task because no matter how hard they try, they just can’t access that type of human experience. So that’s obviously going to be intimidating when dating someone because you literally canNOT connect with them on such a huge level. And that might not be what you want. I totally get it.

In light of this, this blog is not meant to be a guilt-trip; I understand why people might do what they do – both consciously and subconsciously – when it comes to dating. Obviously I’d love to feel more represented, and to feel that my disability 100% doesn’t affect my dating life, but I can’t change the world overnight with my ramblings.

What is important, is that you know that just because someone has an issue that you know nothing about, that that doesn’t then mean that you would be useless at helping them with it. Disability needs to be more visible and in all honesty, we need to see more relationships in the public eye where a disabled person has an ‘able’ partner.

The day I see someone ridiculously famous walk a red carpet hand in hand with their physically disabled boyfriend/girlfriend, I think I might actually shed a tear.

Just an idea

Just an idea

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Let’s talk about why we live in a society where we’re made to feel like if we ask someone out, and they’re not keen, that that is the worst humiliation that anyone could ever suffer. Because as I’m growing up, I’m beginning to realise that it’s really not that deep, and that we need to stop causing ourselves so much grief about it.

Obviously, getting rejected never makes you feel great, and sometimes it can really hurt. But does that short-lived disappointment really warrant never asking anyone out? Especially since if you do it early on in your infatuation for someone, and they shut you down, then you haven’t involved your feelings as much as you would’ve weeks/months/years down the line. It then follows (in my eyes) that everyone should maybe just get it off of their chests pretty quickly, before it escalates and feelings get super carried away…

Saying that, I’ve always been really timid when it comes to telling boys that I find them attractive or like them in a romantic way. In most parts of my personality, I’m pretty confident and fearless but for some reason – whether that be due to my own insecurities, or those triggered by popular culture- I’m shy with expressing how I feel to boys.

But then why should it always be the boys’ duty to make the first move? It’s common sense that they’ll feel just as shy or scared as girls in this context, so why continue the sexist trope of waiting for them to kick things off?

It’s literally only been in the last year that I’ve started to have moments of exasperation where I think: ‘why am I sitting around, dropping hints, being shy and wasting my time waiting for him to say something? Why don’t I just put what I’m thinking out there, and he can either take it or leave it?’

Yes, it’s not easy and yes it takes a lot of courage to say how you feel when you have no idea whether the other person feels the same way. But let’s be honest: is there really any point in making yourself suffer the stress of not knowing, when you could just rip the plaster off and ask?

So what if they say no? At least you know and can stop sitting there wondering…

I’m a total sucker for playing the flirting game, and I’m really not experienced in romantic relationships at all – so my word on these subjects is definitely not gospel. However, my conclusion from observing those around me is that the whole tip-toeing around the subject is pretty tedious and causes more grief than its worth.

So whatever your gender, if you like someone, just let them know. The worst case is that they reject you and you’re upset for a bit, but now you know that there’s no point pursuing it anymore. A vital comment to make here, is that the rejection shouldn’t and doesn’t take anything away from you! If they don’t like you like that, or if they’re messing you about, then forget about it: you don’t need the headache.

But then the best case scenario is that they say yes and when that outcome happens, you’ll be so glad you had the courage to be honest about how you feel.

So just do what I did when I was searching for my first job aged 16, and tell yourself: ‘well someone has to say yes at some point’. (Granted, that comment was laced with sarcasm and annoyance at the time, but it’s still a relevant point to make).

When I write these entries sometimes I inadvertently end up giving advice, but it’s important to note that what I say isn’t always reflective of how I act. That isn’t to say that I’m being a hypocrite, it’s just that whilst I like to show my vulnerabilities and flaws, occasionally my aim is to speak how I want to be and how I think I should be into existence. It doesn’t always work, but then sometimes it does.

Regardless of whether I’m saying how I am or how I want to be, I hope that after you read whatever thoughts I have, that we can both take something positive from it.

As always, thanks for reading this far.

Xx

Chill out mate

Chill out mate

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Thankfully this week was a lot nicer, and a lot less stressful than the last.

My last blog was obviously a huge rant, but it might surprise you to know that after writing it, the situation didn’t bother me much. Instances such as the one with that delightful traffic warden aren’t that big of a deal for me because they kind of happen all the time. That being said, it’s never a highlight.

I’m pretty sure that the main contributor to my terrible week was just being ill, and it’s only when the illness leaves that you can realise just how much being full of cold can mess with your state of mind. Already feeling run-down, I was just overwhelmed by everything piling on top of me.

For years now I’ve been so excited about going to University and what it would bring to my life. Plus, I’ve always been pretty independent and self-sufficient so I thought that I would be absolutely fine once I actually moved. And all in all, I am absolutely fine and love it. But I do think that there’s a lot to be said for just how difficult starting University really is.

Not only have I moved to a totally new place, but I’m experiencing so many more pressures than I could have ever envisaged. One of the most stress-inducing being the academic pressures of my course. I mean I’m taking a degree in a language that I’ve never had any exposure to, and I really really struggle with not being good at something. First world problems, I know.

I’ve been telling myself that I’m really bad at Japanese when I stumble over translation or spontaneous speech, and have already cried in frustration at least a handful of times. But in these moments all I’m thinking about is why I can’t remember everything straight away, and I really beat myself up about it. But Japanese isn’t like French, and I need to fully accept that I’m not going to get it straight away, because on a base level: it’s just proper difficult.

I like to think that I’m a pretty self-aware person, so whenever I’m having these explosions of stress and exhaustion I know exactly what to attribute it to. I know when I’m tired, or stressed, or upset about some boy, or am emotionally volatile because I’m ill or on my period, or am missing home. I know that I work really hard, and that it’s okay for me to not understand everything straight away. But no matter how self-aware I am about why I’m being a cry baby, I also know just how stubborn I am.

It’s obvious that I need to not beat myself up about things, but it’s also really clear to me that I always will: I’m just wired that way. People talk a lot about bettering themselves in some sort of self-care scheme, and those schemes are clearly very worthwhile in many instances. But I also think that people should probably talk a little bit more about the parts of themselves that they don’t necessarily like, know aren’t good for them, but know are parts that they could never get rid of.

If I removed my strive for perfection and work ethic, then I just wouldn’t work as hard. And yes, sometimes I wouldn’t be as exhausted or as emotionally wound-up, but I’d also be bored out of my mind because I wouldn’t be doing anything. You can’t really have one without the other.

Plus, this intense part of my personality doesn’t just pop up when I’m in academic settings, it rears its head in my relationships with people. I just care a lot about everything.

I try really hard to always be kind and loving to those around me. Yes, sometimes it ends in unfortunate emotions, but most of the time it helps me to be surrounded by incredible people. And luckily, some of those people are there for the times when I get overwhelmed and just need someone to rant to, give me a big hug and tell me to stop being dumb. *shout-out for Richard last week, thanks buddy xo*

Sometimes I’m stupidly mean to myself…and I should try to not waste my energy like that.

The girls’ bathroom

The girls’ bathroom

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

When speaking to boys, sometimes there comes a point in the conversation when they ask me why the bloody hell girls go to the toilet together. And, once we’re in there, why’ve we got to take so long?

The most obvious answer is that we get to have a chat – and it’s quicker to cram loads of you in there, so you can go straight after each other whilst chatting… So yes, often we chat about stupid things, like how we’ve spotted a really fit boy and need to give each other a pep-talk before someone tries it on with him when we leave the bathroom. But then sometimes the conversations can take a whole other direction.

I’ve been in bathrooms and spoken with girls where they’ve confided in me about some really dark stuff. I’ve had separate girls tell me that they have an eating disorder they’ve never told anyone about, that they’re struggling with their mental health, and one even told me that she was in an abusive relationship. It’s in the safety and privacy of the girls’ toilets, that we get to be completely honest with each other and confess things that we may have been scared to tell anyone in any other environment.

Even though there will inevitably be someone shouting and banging on the cubicle door for those inside to ‘hurry up, I NEED A WEE’ in the background, we pass toilet roll over or under the cubicle dividers, try to speed up, and give that emotionally vulnerable female the attention she needs. And doing that is so important.

The ways in which women and girls regularly share their feelings with each other, has been subject to a lot of mockery throughout time. But whilst some of the conversations might be cringey, convoluted, drunken ‘I love yous’ and ‘you’re the best friend ever’, even those silly moments help set up a space of mutual love and trust. Yes, women can back-stab and b**** about each other, but there’s also this indescribably close bond that builds between a group of girls – and it’s conversations like those we have in the bathroom which help contribute to that.

I’m not saying that we exclusively cry and have ‘deep’ conversations when we go to the toilet, because sometimes we do the opposite. Sometimes we cram a group of us into one cubicle, only for someone to do some impressive and moderately dangerous acrobatics on the toilet seat to make everyone else laugh. Other times, we just go to de-sweat from dancing.

But then on the most serious end of the scale, the girls’ bathroom can act as a sanctuary or panic room for some girls.

There have been times in my life where I’ve gone on nights out and I’ve had groups of boys try to cut me off from the rest of my group. I’ve had friends who’ve had their drinks spiked. I, and many of my friends, have had physical contact we didn’t ask for or want. One time I was actually hit on my bum – right on the spot where all of the nerves which would allow me to have feeling in my feet are in a knot. So that slap caused me to not only feel violated and publicly humiliated, but it put me into excruciating pain for a few minutes – imagine someone dropping 2 weights on both of your feet at the same time. That’s what it feels like when the lump on my back is hit.

So in those times, girls know that they can go to the girls’ bathroom and that they’re less likely to be followed or trapped. There’ll be a huge group of more females there able to help or protect them. They can call someone from their phone to come help, or they can even call the police.

I adore men. I have so many men in my life who are some of the most amazing, caring and sensitive people on the planet. I know that when they hear of mine and my female friends’ experiences like this, they’re appalled and in disbelief because they would never do anything like that. But unfortunately, these things still happen, and they happen all the time. Often men just don’t notice when it does because they’ve never really had to worry whether they’ll be on the receiving end of it, so their radar for it is simply not on the same frequency.

That girls’ bathroom is so much more to women and girls than a place to cry about someone not texting us back. We need and cherish that space for our physical and emotional well-being.

Even if only for someone to dry your tears, tell you you look hot and to get back out there.

In my feels at Ukrainian Summer Camp

In my feels at Ukrainian Summer Camp

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 1 Comment

One thing I’m very proud of is the fact that I’m a West Yorkshire girl. We may have cold, rainy weather, and it might be constantly assumed that we drink tea or have some sort of superior authority when it comes to judging a Yorkshire pudding (tho the latter’s true tbf), and it might well be accurate that we struggle to spend money on anything. BUT, it’s because of these facts and many others that I love where I’m from. However, aside from that cheeky bit of patriotism, there are plenty of things about the Northern English psyche that I don’t love all that much.

The main one that was appropriate when it came to my time in Ukraine was our tendency to be emotionally guarded. I grew up in a family where sarcasm is encouraged, and through making digs (lovingly) at each other my siblings and I gained a thicker skin in preparation for the wider world. One consequence of this was that I, like many other Britons, have a tendency to take the mick out of anything that shows excessive enthusiasm or ‘deep’ emotions. By ‘deep’ I mean when you’re sitting with your group of friends and someone brings up the meaning of life, and because you’re English one of you responds with ‘that’s deep’ and you all laugh it off, then change the topic to something ‘lighter’.

A natural avoidance of topics requiring more emotional vulnerability such as this made life in a Ukrainian Summer Camp all the more alien to me. Our first week in the Carpathian mountains was a training week, where counsellors and English teachers got to know one another without any children running around. We played games every day, and brainstormed activities we could do with the kids, but then on an evening we’d sit and have conversations where everyone seemed to willingly bare their souls to strangers. Now I was struggling to get used to the fact that we actually had to learn dance routines for the kids to mimic for 15 minutes before EVERY meal, let alone that everyone would then have heavily emotional chats with each other before bed time…

The Yorkshire lass in me wanted to laugh and take the mick at so many points, but it became clearer that I was the minority in the room when it came to not wanting to publicly emote. It’s apparent in Europe, and from what I’ve seen the rest of the world, that those ‘deep’ conversations the English only seem to have when drunk or in therapy are standard dinner time chit-chat. It’s in this way, amongst others, that we play to our stereotype of being uptight and emotionally closed-off.

To be honest, I do like this characteristic of our culture to an extent. In my eyes, we privilege monumental emotions over minor ones. By this I mean that we don’t emote constantly, but (for want of a better phrase) save it for a big occasion. In this way, we don’t force our emotions onto people excessively, for fear of being branded a ‘downer’ or, in Yorkshire terminology, ‘a whinge’. That being said, this is definitely a toxic trait when it comes to mental health: the English have a real problem with internalising emotions and therefore allowing those feelings to overwhelm and isolate the individual. Through living in Ukraine surrounded by people of all nationalities (not exclusively European), and being in a hyper-emotional environment, I was encouraged to be a lot more vocal and in-tune with my own feelings. Life in a summer camp is effectively a hot box where everything you feel is heightened due to extreme levels of stress, responsibility and a whoooole lot of laughter.

In this week’s concluding paragraph – seen as I just can’t seem to get that A Level English Lit essay structure out of my bones- I basically just want to say that the English need to have some more ‘deep’ conversations. As a community, we need to make it clearer to each other that emotions aren’t scary or unusual. I’m not suggesting that everyone sits and has a cry with each other regularly, although an occasional cry is good for you. But some of the most valuable parts of summer camp for me, and others, was everyone leaving little notes for each other just to say thank you for leaving the art room tidy, or helping with an evening activity, or just to say I think you’re amazing and this is why. Ukraine showed me that when a group of people are almost completely emotionally vulnerable with one another, life is easier. We wound each other up and occasionally we argued, but overall I formed some of the closest friendships I’ve ever had in 2 months flat and laughed until I cried multiple times every day.

So next time someone wants to talk about something ‘deep’, humour it and get involved for a bit. It might be interesting and afterwards you’ll feel good. Plus, then when you want to lighten the mood and have a laugh with each other your relationship is going to be stronger, more genuine and so much more fun.

One for my girls

One for my girls

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It was my privilege to work as a Teaching Assistant in a local Secondary School as my main job of 3 in the first half of my gap year. The students I worked with were mostly those with learning and behavioural difficulties: some with diagnosed disabilities and some without. What grouped all of them together though was that they had exactly the same teenage struggles as each other, and every other teenager in the world. That being said, this school was totally different from the one I’d just left as a student. It was an all girls’ school for a start and I can safely say that the single gender had a profound effect on the vibe of the school- more so than I’d first expected. It became clear that in this environment the tendency of teenage girls to gossip and marginalise others was amplified. But so was their kindness and infinite loyalty to each other. To add to that, the girls were mostly from first, second and third generation immigrant households. Generally speaking the students themselves shared cultures and religion, it was only the staff and the part of England in which they found themselves that were different.

These girls were some of the most generous and loving people I’ll ever have the pleasure to meet, and I write this with the utmost respect and affection for them. I’d like to be clear in that what I write is with them in mind, not as part of a patronising privileged white girl social study. We came from completely opposite walks of life, yet our similarity in age allowed for me to be gifted a very honest insight into their lives and minds. They did still call me ‘Miss’ though lol.

But in order to paint a picture of the specific obstacles in their way, I’ll have to set the scene more plainly.

It’s a fact that most of the girls at this school had never been on a bus or a train on their own before. It’s a fact that many believed they’d be attacked if they did. It’s a fact that most of the girls had never been to the next nearest city before. It’s a fact that many of the girls spoke English as their second language, even though they were born here. It’s a fact that very few of these girls had friends outside of their race, culture and religion, let alone socialised with them. It’s also a fact that these girls were as, if not more, curious about life and everything that comes with it as their white middle class peers attending schools 5 minutes down the road. But it’s a fact that satisfying their curiosity was not as easy for them to do as for their peers.

In my capacity as a young, white, female TA I appeared to these girls as an outsider when it came to culture, race and religion. That being said, I was lucky enough to make some of them feel like they could confide in me and ask questions that they simply couldn’t comfortably ask anyone else in their lives. Now I’d just like to mention that I worked mainly in the Science department and that the majority of these queries came from the worst-behaved students in the entire building: my delightful 15-16 year olds. That should explain how these questions came up in lessons. Sex Education happens in Science for example. Yeah, now you’re with me. 🙂

A few questions that come to mind now are: ‘Miss, what is contraception?’, ‘Miss can girls enjoy sex too?’, ‘Miss, it’s legal for an 18 year old to have sex with a 15 year old right?’, and ‘Miss Douglas, is it wrong to be gay?’. The last one especially affected me. It’s 2019. A 15 year old girl living in the North of England shouldn’t feel required to ask that anymore.

Academically, these 15-16 year old girls often fell short of the government’s target system because they saw little reward in studying. What they felt success in was that they could make each other laugh. Oh and they sure made me laugh. These girls were so funny.

As a consequence of not being in the top set however, they’d often call themselves stupid. But truthfully, being able to read what will make an entire room laugh time and again is also something that requires real intelligence. For a few of them, school was an escape from some really dark things going on at home. They cared little about their education because they didn’t see how it’d help with their own troubles. Fortunately though, the friendships they all forged with one another and the laughter they constantly experienced together made for a welcome relief. And I had the honour to regularly laugh until I cried right along with them.

Working with these girls and being able to infer the struggles they were having from the questions they asked me, showed me just how much of a privileged white girl I truly am. My experience of school was easy for the most part: I had a good home life, good grades, good friends, amazing support for every aspect of my disability and whilst I’ve never been rich, I’ve never known what poverty feels like. Like many teenagers in every school, some of these girls had it a lot rougher.

But would I ever dream of patronising them? Absolutely not! They’d have my life! And I respect them far too much for that. My girls are strong young women. It’s true that some of them might never be able to wear the clothes they really want to, or love who they want, or go where they want, or try to find a job they fully enjoy. But I sincerely hope that they’ll keep the kindness, generosity and fiery sense of humour that I got the pleasure to observe for 6 months.