You can’t sit with me

29th Feb 202429th Feb 2024 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

The question I get asked the most in relation to my disability, and the one I find the most difficult to answer is how I feel about the image of my shoes. Do I like them? Do I have to wear them all the time? Why does it matter what they look like at all, if they help me to walk?

If you look at my social media, then odds are you’re going to think that I don’t mind what my callipers look like, and maybe (at a push), I’ve made it seem like they make me feel quite confident. But sharing videos and images which include my shoes, or me walking, is a new thing I’m consciously doing to try and get used to what they look like, rather than something which comes naturally.

It’s not that I hate what they look like, or that I wish I didn’t have to wear them, however, it’s also not honest for me to say that I like my shoes or would choose them if I could. If I could. That’s the most important point. I don’t have a choice and have never had a choice, so the concept of wanting to wear something else feels pointless because I can’t. Therefore when I was a little girl, I just didn’t think about whether my callipers looked good, because in order for me to go anywhere or do anything, they were my only option.

The first time I actively considered their appearance was when I was in Year 11 and I was getting ready for prom with my friends; we all had beautiful (extortionately expensive – thanks Mum and Dad 😀 ) dresses, but my friends could wear pairs of matching heels with their outfits, whereas I had one option for footwear. An option which was definitely not the one I would’ve chosen if the focus what aesthetics. But again, if I wanted to actually go to the prom, then that was the one I had to wear, so it wasn’t worth spending much time sulking about it.

Moments like my Year 11 prom have continued in the years since; weddings, university balls, or nights out where I probably would’ve preferred matching my outfit with my shoes but haven’t moped too much about not being able to, to save myself needless upset. They weren’t often though, and they were fleeting. The most damaging time for my self-esteem relating to my shoes was university, where my Northernness and my personality made me feel like I didn’t fit so much at times, that I couldn’t be bothered for the disability to add another reason to stand out, so I mostly wore outfits covering my callipers for the first couple of years. One time, I remember laughing when a lad in a bar had been giving me the eye for a while, until he eventually came over to talk to me, only to spot my shoes then spin 180 and walk the other way. It was such a repulsive action that I genuinely found it funny and wasn’t hurt much by it, but it did sum up the way I felt seen by some of those around me at that time.

Since then, I’ve gotten back to the level of comfort I felt in my shoes before I became aware of how nasty the world can be at times. I surround myself with family and friends who regularly remind me that there’s nothing wrong with my shoes, or how I walk, and making videos for social media has forced a realisation that actually, my shoes can look quite cool with some outfits. Still, there’s something in my head that whispers that a man I like isn’t going to be interested in me if he sees my social media first; if he sees the conversations and expressions of disability, before he talks to me. I know it’s not logical or fair, but that little voice still tells me that if a lad I’ve met in person then sees and likes a post where he can see my callipers, then he’s not understood the video. He’s not realised what he’s watching.

It’s internalised ableism and it’s difficult to get rid of completely because according to hundreds of years of history and literature, disabled bodies aren’t supposed to be attractive – that doesn’t mean that they aren’t (OF COURSE), but I also grew up in this ableist society too so no matter my parents’, friends’, or wider family’s efforts, some aspects of the negative views towards disability are going to seep through. I do know the ideas aren’t fair though, so on the days when I don’t like what my shoes look like, I try to tell the voice in my head to quieten down. It’s the same voice everyone has – the one that tells you yes, you do look fat in that, or yes, everyone here does find you boring – it’s just mine has a fun, extra piece of ammo for the bitching.

Which is great!

But, we try not to end on downers here, so I want to finish this month’s blog by reminding myself that the voice is just a mean girl. And she’s not invited to the party.

Maybe I don’t mind these walls

22nd Aug 2023 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’ve always considered myself as one of those people who, as the saying goes, wears their heart on their sleeve. But after hearing people give me their opinions on how I present myself – be they colleagues, friends, or potential romantic partners – it’d appear that I’m full of sh*t. This entire time I’ve been sitting here thinking I’m constantly giving away too much of myself, only to be told by one of my oldest and closest friends that I’ve always struggled to be vulnerable. So what am I understanding vulnerability to mean then? Because clearly there’s a disconnect going on somewhere.

The aspect of my life that people have always expected to be incredibly sensitive for me, is my physical disability. Only, I don’t think that I’ve ever struggled to tell whoever’s asked whatever it was they wanted to know; yes, there have been times when I’ve tired of having to say the same thing multiple times in a day, but the ‘I’ve got Spina Bifida, I was born with it, it’s a disability of the spine’ speech doesn’t really tap into my emotions. The aspects of it that are difficult to talk about are more to do with my desire to feel that it, and therefore I, am understood by someone other than my parents. And the anxiety that this might not ever happen.

On the other hand, when I’ve sat with myself and thought about the most vulnerable parts of me, what jumps out is the devotion I give to the people in my life who are most important to me. I might not be the one who sits in the cinema crying at the bit you should definitely cry at, but I am the one to feel physically sick if I think that I’ve accidentally upset someone I love. It’s silly really, but I go into a blind panic; my stomach goes into my throat, my hands will start to shake, and this will all happen regardless of whether I believe that what I did was actually wrong.

Then there’s the other side to the vulnerability of a person which isn’t necessarily related to negative feelings. With new social circles, I do hold back the part of myself that’s gentle and silly and playful because ever since I went to university, I’ve felt a little apprehensive about acting the way I always would around my school friends or my brothers because I don’t want my actions to be misinterpreted or judged.

Honestly, I think I hold back these parts of my personality when I’m first getting to know people because I’m just trying to read the room I’m in before I do anything to expose myself. When I was younger I’d go into social situations without any barriers up, but when you grow up you begin to learn that by doing that, sometimes it leaves room for hurt. Here, I’m not talking about something as drastic as bullying or abuse, I mean you might do something as simple as make the wrong joke around the wrong people because you assumed that they’d have the same sense of humour as everyone you grew up around, then find yourself branded as overly sarcastic or negative, when you were only trying to make everyone laugh. Or you might give your time, energy, and advice to someone who then gives you nothing in return, leaving you feeling deflated and cast aside.

Therefore, I don’t think it’s natural, or particularly helpful to show these possibly more vulnerable parts of your personality to others so soon after meeting, because you haven’t given yourself time to work anyone out yet. However, I do accept that by struggling to fully let go – especially around potential romantic partners – I sometimes show people what I think they want me to be in a given moment, rather than what I actually am. But then, who doesn’t? Especially at this age.

In all the conversations I have about my blog, my disability, and my life, the main thing I try to get across is that I know I don’t do everything perfectly – including accepting myself. However, as much as I’m a total perfectionist, I know that I’m never going to be without faults when it comes to self-love, so all I’m actively trying to do is my best. Therefore, unfortunately, I won’t always be comfortable in my own skin, accepting and loving of my disability, or as silly as I am with my brothers. But! These multiple layers of vulnerability are what makes people so interesting, and you’ve just got to be invested enough in a person to wait for the different parts to show.

Because, as a great philosopher once said: ‘Ogres are a lot like onions’.

Forcing myself to like this

23rd May 2023 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Something I get asked a lot when I speak about my disability is whether I’m proud to have it, and if you’ve read more than one of these blogs then you may already know that that is a bit of a complicated question for me. My immediate reaction is to say ‘no’ because I’m not so much proud of the disability itself – given that the Spina Bifida in isolation contributes to 80% of the stresses in my life – though I am probably proud of how I deal with it. But even then, I don’t really know that that’s anything to be actively proud of because I can’t be or live any other way. Maybe you judge that as me thinking too far into it, but I just don’t see these well-intentioned attempts by able-bodied people to understand what it’s like to have a disability as leading to one-sentence responses.

And one aspect of my opinion of my disability which will definitely throw people – especially given how I present myself on social media – is the way I feel about how my shoes look. If you watch my videos then you may assume that I don’t really care about people seeing my shoes, but the reality is that by doing these videos and showing my callipers at the end of them, that’s me making an active effort to like how they, and my legs in them, look. Acceptance of their image when I’m wearing my shoes definitely doesn’t come naturally to me.

I think what’s at the heart of that is that I’ve never considered myself as disabled by my body – unless I’m in a hospital gown, putting a bandage on, or in a wheelchair, and even in those moments the extent of my disability has always caught me off guard which is what makes the experience so traumatic. That probably sounds quite strange, though. That I have times when I pull my car into a disabled space, put the handbrake up, and sit there thinking ‘lol it’s kinda weird that I’m actually disabled’ as I put my blue badge on my dashboard.

Maybe it’s because I don’t have any pain and because my disability doesn’t affect my mind or my appearance unless I look down, that I’ve always been so good at ignoring it – a lot of times to my own detriment but hey, we do what we can. So it’s only when I’m confronted by my reflection in a shop window or in videos and photographs that I actually see my disabled body. And I’ll be honest, I don’t like it. What I see is all the minute details of my Spina Bifida: my left foot curving inwards because the operations never quite worked, a slight limp as I move, and the unusual (kinda jarring) shape of my metal callipers against my legs. So, for a very long time, I just didn’t look because I didn’t want to know – still now, even after all these Instagram and TikTok videos, you’ll probably see me bow my head if I have to walk toward a full-length mirror or a shop window and I still ask my mum to take the photograph from the waist up.

I’m getting better though! I don’t actually flinch if I see myself walking in videos or a reflection anymore – I’d still probably rather not see it, but it doesn’t sting my self-esteem quite so much now.

My parents can get very frustrated with me when I’ve brought this kind of thing up because it hurts them that there’s a part of myself that I’m still struggling to accept; I remember my mum saying to me once (through love and irritation) that there’s nothing wrong with my callipers making me look disabled because I am, and will always be disabled, so that’s just what I look like. And she’s right. But society says that that’s bad, that’s ugly, that’s pitiful, so no matter how right my mum is, it’s an active effort to agree with her every day of the week – especially when you’re sitting on the tube waiting for the person across from you to look up and see that there’s a human attached to the shoes they’ve been staring at for 4 minutes.

So yes I know that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the look of my callipers – with some outfits I’ve even realised that they look quite cool, those comments from people weren’t based on pity in the end – and I would never ever ever (!) say that there’s anything wrong with looking like you are disabled, but we say things to ourselves that we wouldn’t dare say to others, so even that isn’t quite so black and white if it’s applied to your view of yourself.

Nonetheless, I’m doing my best to accept that part of myself without conditions, and my best is all I can ever give.

Ch ch ch changes

22nd Feb 2023 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 2 Comments

If I’m trying to be my most pragmatic, sensible self, then I’d like to say that I’m not at all scared of change; in fact, I welcome all of the exciting new things that can come with switching things up. Buuuuuuutttttt, change isn’t always positive, nor are the outcomes ever fixed, so I think it’s better to explain how I’m experiencing change at the minute as it being like I’m sitting on a see-saw: one end has an overwhelming sense of excitement, whilst the other has an equally overwhelming feeling of terror. Which way it leans really depends on the day.

At the very start of this year, I’m not going to lie to you, sitting in a hospital gown with a cannula in my left arm had me leaning all the way over to terror, whereas, when I heard that I’d been given two Christmas shows on BBC Radio 1, you’d best believe the see-saw was so far towards excitement that it looked more like a slide. Then we were feeling a mixture of both when it came to coming back to London after my operation because I’m still having to bandage my foot every day but at least I’m back in the groove of pursuing a radio career. Oh, and I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but I now have parents who live in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil! You know…that really standard change for parents to make to their lives once all of their children have moved out? – I’m completely supportive and excited about that one, but it’d be silly to not include that in the paragraph listing the biggest changes in my life recently.

So then, if you’re an emotional stress head with control freak tendencies like me, how do you cope with so much change in such a short period of time?

Well, it’s definitely made easier by the fact that I’m a cup-half-full kind of a gal, so I do naturally move towards finding the positives in a situation. But I think that the main way I’m dealing with it is by viewing every recent change positively – even the traumatic emergency operation at the start of the year. At the time, I was terrified that my Spina Bifida was about to strip me of my independence just when I needed to be out there grafting for a radio career; that I was going to be sitting in my room alone, resenting my own body as I had to wait around for it to heal. And yes, we’re still not healed, we’re still bandaging every day, but by speaking openly about the operation, and by reframing the whole thing in my head as an accidental injury like a sprained ankle or broken arm, I feel so much less stressed about my foot than I have for a very long time. Furthermore, I’ve now experienced an operation in my adult life, so if something like that happens again, then it won’t be such a nasty shock to the system because at least I’ll remember what the process feels like.

This trust that I can continue to be independent whilst having problems with my feet and living in a city as big as London, also allowed me to only be happy for my parents when they made their move, rather than feeling like I was losing my biggest support network to South America. The fact is, that when you’ve had a physical disability since birth, there’s a period in your late teens and then early twenties where you have to inherit that disability from your parents because even though the Spina Bifida has always belonged to my body, the practicality of dealing with it didn’t really lie with me until I moved out, and even then, it’ll take years before I know all the details of my Spina Bifida the way my parents do. For example, the whole operation thing: I hadn’t done that since I was seven years old, so even though I’m a strong, articulate, independent 23-year-old woman, I had to call my Mum and Dad to ask them the answers to the questions the doctors were asking me about my own body. I have the scars, but I don’t know the technicalities behind why a doctor cut me there.

A lot is changing in my life right now, and in some contexts, I don’t entirely recognise myself. I don’t mean that in a bad way – in fact, I feel far more settled and happier now than I did in my final year of university – it’s just that there’s a lot going on and it sometimes takes my brain a second to keep up. Surrendering to a situation and not focusing on controlling things doesn’t come naturally to me, but coping with change becomes much easier if I do that, thus, going with the flow is the motto right now.

Loosey goosey bby, looOooOooseyy goOoseeyy.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year?

21st Nov 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

When I graduated from university in the summer of this year, there were so many ‘next steps’ to complete that I never felt like I took a second to sit down and think about what I want from this part of my life. I’d already spent months juggling problems with my feet and writing essays, a dissertation, completing exams, and feeling totally disenfranchised with my university environment, so once it finished, to be honest I was relieved. Instead of taking a break from planning the next thing though, I just redirected my brain to going on holiday with my friend, spending time with my family, and the logistics of moving to a city to pursue a career.

I know that my ability to be super organised, focused, and to work like an absolute pack horse often gives people the impression that I have everything figured out, and honestly, sometimes I trick myself into thinking the same thing. It’s only really been since I’ve moved into this part of my life – away from the safety and structure of family and educational institutions – that I’ve realised there are so many parts of life where I’ve got absolutely no clue.

But you know what I’m going to say here, right?…That it’s totally okay to have no idea what you’re doing! In fact, it’s part of the fun.

I’ll level with you here though, and say that ‘living in the moment’ and not fixating on the million and one things I need to do next are not ways of living that come naturally to me. I’m a hard worker, and I’m a cup-half-full kind of a gal, but I’m also potentially one of the most impatient people you’ll ever meet. As in, I can experience a huge success on Monday and by Thursday, I’m texting my friends saying that I’m bored. But this is a habit that I’m really trying to get out of, because I’ve been given enough pep talks by drunken middle-aged women in the smoking area of pubs, to know that if I keep being this way, then one day I’ll wake up with wrinkles and greying hair, wondering where half of my life went.

(Shout-out to that brand of Yorkshire woman by the way; long may you ladies bring the flavour to the night-out.)

Unfortunately, so many of us spend a hefty amount of our time getting worked up over feeling like we don’t have every aspect of our lives figured out. I’ve had countless conversations with people of all ages stressing because they think that they’re not at the point they ‘should’ be at, but what does ‘should’ even mean anyway? Who decides what each of us ‘should’ be doing? Surely, that’s just us getting lost in social conventions and comparisons, before asking ourselves what it is we want to be doing right now and whether there’s anything we need to change to get there.

Maybe what I’ve written this week doesn’t feel relatable to you right now, but this is the time of the year when we’ve got to be extra aware of how those around us are feeling. I won’t lie to you, I love Autumn into Winter, but as much as I love watching the leaves change colour and hearing firework displays in the distance, this is also the season when many of us start to feel cold, tired, and fed up. I also know that a large proportion of my readers are British, so it’s likely that you suffer from our nation’s inability to talk about these types of feelings without aggressively cringing, and I get you; this blog isn’t that deep or existential, and still, I found it difficult to write what I wanted to say. But the momentary cringing or the incoherent sentences are better than the middle-of-the-night solo breakdown. So, if you’re feeling some type of way right now, then swallow your pride and just call your friend to talk about whatever’s on your mind; you might not share everything whilst you chat, but odds are, at some point in the conversation you’ll have a laugh. And when has that not helped to calm you down or cheer you up?

Quick! Someone get the stress ball!

4th Oct 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

As a member of the most stressed and depressed generation ever studied by science, I thought that I would take this week’s blog as an opportunity to explain how I deal with stress in my everyday life. The short answer: not very well.

Lol

Actually, to be fair, that’s not entirely true…but I don’t want to kick this off by giving you the impression that I’m always on top of my own stress levels, and that I know exactly how to regulate my feelings in order to avoid having breakdowns because I’m not and I don’t. Generally speaking, I’m what some might call a ‘stress-head’, or ‘overthinker’. I don’t deal well when I can’t be in control of situations – be they relating to work or romantic relationships, or anything in between – and I’ve been known to take on too much all at the same time, overloading myself until eventually I get burnt out, have a (minor) meltdown, then wake up the next day to do it all over again.

Knowing this about myself though, I still don’t believe that stress is an entirely negative emotion – as long as you’re self-aware enough to recognise when it’s overwhelming you. For example, ever since moving to London last month, I’ve been so stressed that I’ve lost weight and my period was ten days late. (I realise that these don’t sound like very dramatic consequences of stress, nonetheless, they are clear examples of a tangibly physical reaction to something going on in my head.) But even though pretty much every day since I’ve lived here has been punctuated by to-do lists and an endless amount of unknowns, I actually feel pretty good; I don’t feel stressed in the negative sense of the word.

Don’t get me wrong, the first week or so of living in this city was purely bad stress, but as I mentioned in a blog a few weeks ago, my parents helped me get out of that panic by urging me to take everything one thing at a time. This advice sounds so obvious, but if you’re an overthinker like me, then you’ll know that it’s far easier to think about the million and one things you need to do, or what could go wrong, all at once than it is to focus on just one thing for today. Honestly, I’m still not fully there yet, but this month has definitely been an exercise in recognising when I’m about to wind myself up, taking a breath, and then just not letting myself stress about the thing I was going to stress about.

I’m in a good position, however, given that a lot of my stress at the minute is based on things that I love. For example, finding ways to squeeze in writing blogs or going to radio stations might take a toll on my energy at a given moment, but I love doing it, so I don’t end the day feeling bitter about how tired I am. Still, even if you adore what’s making you stressed, that doesn’t mean that the mental exhaustion won’t eventually catch up with you, so it’s important that even if you feel fine, you do little things to keep an eye on yourself. I’m going to sound like one of those American yoga teachers right now, but think about the little things that you could do which could help you to focus on what you really want to do in the day. For instance, if there’s a time when my stress is going to show itself in me getting angry, then it’s going to be if I see that my room or my kitchen is unclean or untidy. So I keep my room and my kitchen neat; tidy home, tidy mind n that.

It might seem silly to talk about these things, but judging from social media, we’re way better at listing all the problems with ourselves than we are at helping each other to find some solutions. So, I’d like to reiterate that this has not been me saying ‘ooo look at me, I’m so self-aware that I never have a breakdown because of stress’, because I wouldn’t have a blog if I wasn’t an over-thinker and stress-head. But I’m trying my best to be better at not letting my mind just run, and trying is all we can do really innit.

If you are feeling a little strung-out at the minute though, top tips are: deep breath, lots of water, plenty of sleep, read a book before bed, listen to music, keep your room tidy, have a cry if you need to, and speak to someone who makes you laugh.

Get your kit off!

15th Aug 20222nd Sep 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Last week I was sitting with one of my best friends and I asked her how often she looks at herself naked. (Bit of an intense way to start a blog, I know, but I didn’t know how else to kick this topic off lol). I asked her this because we’re all well aware of the level of scrutiny our bodies are under in regards to what size they should be, what shape, what colour, what texture, et cetera et cetera. So, I guess I was just curious about how often my friend stands in front of a mirror and has a look, to then compare it to how often I do the same, especially since the act of looking at your naked skin in broad daylight is one of the most vulnerable things you can do. After all, we might not always like what’s reflected back to us.

My friend’s a total queen though; her response was ‘all the time’ and I said the same – buuuut, I did go on to explain that I don’t spend too many seconds looking at my Spina Bifida lump or my legs in the mirror, so I’ve got room for improvement.

I think that in general, as women, we’re not encouraged to stand with ourselves and get familiar without being critical, so it can be quite unusual to see a woman who is totally comfortable with her naked body. However, I would like to clarify here that by ‘totally comfortable’, I’m not suggesting that there aren’t things you dislike, or would prefer to not look a certain way some days because we’re going for honesty here, not idealism.

One of the best things I ever did for getting comfortable with my own skin was starting to sleep naked every night. I wouldn’t say that before doing that I was ever particularly uncomfortable with my body, but sleeping naked just forces you to see and feel yourself exactly as you are: you get used to your boobs falling in every direction depending on how you’re sitting; you see all the stretch marks and ‘imperfections’ highlighted by the sun when you wake up, and you stop getting a little startled by the image of your naked body first thing in the morning. But overall, sleeping naked allows your skin to breathe and everything feels better after that.

Quick sidenote: I do realise that a lot of my words and descriptions here lean very close to the topic of masturbation, and whilst I’m not really going to go into that much today, I will say: for god’s sake, masturbate! Especially you ladies! It’s good for you! (Literally.) :)))

Many people (especially (British) women) would rather die than speak about topics such as this one, but after being lucky enough to have known women of all shapes and sizes who are so comfortable in their own bodies that they’ll take their kit off at any given opportunity, I’ve never underestimated the power of being proactive in loving your body. Every clothing campaign badgers on about it nowadays – some in a very live laugh love sort of a way (*puke*) – but the human body is truly a remarkably beautiful thing, and even though we’re never going to love ourselves entirely every single minute of every day, making sure that we at least accept ourselves every day does wonders.

Regardless of how we each feel about our own bodies though, we should be careful to never (!) shame another person for being confident in their body just because you wouldn’t do the same. I like to sit/hang around my house in a towel, or my underwear and I’ll put the bin out with ‘just’ a big t-shirt and knickers on; you not doing the same doesn’t mean you love your body any less than I love mine, but it also doesn’t leave room for my body to be sexualised or criticised when all I’m doing is watching TV or putting the recycling out. After all, if you can’t wear as much or as little as you want in your own house, then where can you?

So,you think you’re a sl**

24th May 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

At this age, lots of us like to sit with our friends and rip into each other for all the times someone has been a liiiittle questionable when it comes to their romantic relationships – whether those relationships be purely sexual, on the road to something stronger, or somewhere in between. Maybe you’re the prolific dater, maybe you’re the type to get with someone then change your mind the second they start to like you, maybe you really enjoy flirting with people but you’re too picky (*cough* scared *cough*) to commit to something serious. Or, maybe you’re like me and you’re a combination of a few… 🙂 ! Well, whatever you are, as long as you’re not being awful to people, then I don’t see much harm in it. And, the chaos does make for a good drinking game.

I’ve posted enough blogs by now for you to know that I’ve never been in a relationship, and that the lads I attract tend to be a whole lot of talk and very little walk…HoWeVeR, I have been the third wheel for enough relationships (and been involved in enough situationships) by now to be able to say something about how we’re treating each other. And the main thing that I’ve noticed is that people are so terrified of being on their own, that they stay or get themselves into situations simply because it’s comfortable, and/or because out here in the single world most people are screwing each over left right and centre. I mean, the sheer lack of respect I’ve heard (and seen) demonstrated by some single people when they’re talking to or getting with someone on a night out is ridiculous. And there’s just no need for it!

I’m not saying that we can all come out of every experience looking like the good guy, because no matter how hard each of us might try, there’s always going to be a few moments when we’ve messed up and we just have to swallow that. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t at least try to not be a d*ck, though. Yes, this age is probably the best and most convenient age to get with as many different types of people, in as many different situations as your heart desires because it’s a time when we’re free to put effort into figuring out who we are and what we want, but be aware of what you’re doing as you do it pls.

I’m a big believer in the power of surrounding yourself with sex-positive people who don’t feel the need to apologise for their sexualities because as much as I’m also very sex-positive, there are times when I can fall victim to the voice in my head that likes to give me a cheeky slut shame when I’m hungover. And it’s never about how many people you get with because I know lasses who feel rubbish about the 1 or 2 people they’ve slept with or texted again when they shouldn’t have. It’s about the fact that lots of us aren’t allowing ourselves and others to just have a little bit of fun.

Personally, I’ve not been hurt by a lad in quite a long time now but that’s just because I got bored of being disappointed and making all the moves, so I’m leaving it up to the lads to have the balls from now on. But me having that perspective right now, doesn’t make it inevitable that I’m going to start being rude to a lad who I kiss in a bar by ignoring his texts or playing with his emotions. It also doesn’t mean that I wake up the next day and tell myself off for kissing someone I don’t intend to date. And finally, it most certainly does NOT give me an excuse to judge and shame my friends for having a different approach to romance than me.

So if you’re going to take anything from this week’s ramblings, let it be the acknowledgement that even though it’d be impossible to never be the bad guy in relationships, that isn’t an invitation to always forget about respect. Ask out who you want to ask out, kiss them if you’re both into it, try and be nice about it if you’re not, and go on, have a bit of a FLIRT!

Something’s wrong with my face today

3rd May 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Do you ever have those days where for some reason none of your clothes seem to fit you the way they did the last time you tried them on? You’re getting ready for the day, or for a night out, and your face just doesn’t face the way it should, you’re clothes don’t look right, your hair won’t do what it’s told, and the time is starting to run away; you’re going to be late to whatever you’re supposed to get to, so you start to get a bit hysterical and self-critical until you just wish you could crawl back into bed, hit a reset button, and try again tomorrow when everything hopefully does what it’s supposed to.

Just me?..

I’ve written before about how people shouldn’t let their insecurities control them, and I wondered whether I should write about this topic again when I could just reshare an entry I’d written a couple of years ago. Except, my body, and a whole lot of other stuff, has changed since then and I don’t really see this as a problem that can be fixed by a few hundred words.

So I’m going to give you a few hundred more! Yay!

We each know the power which comes with feeling confident, but like many other feelings, confidence is unfortunately very brittle. Just the other day, I’d woken up feeling pretty good about myself but it only took a few silly things happening throughout the day to leave me with a mind full of self-criticism by the time I was getting into bed for the night. And the frustrating thing is, that the moments which chipped away at my confidence were so minor it was stupid: I saw my reflection in a full-length mirror and I didn’t like the way my legs in my callipers looked, then a friend took a photograph of me and another friend and I thought my arms looked fat, and finally, the hot weather made me tired and subsequently self-conscious about how obvious my Spina Bifida was whilst walking through town.

Not one of these things is important, nor are they anything anyone else would take any notice of, let alone care about. But that’s what insecurity is: getting stuck inside your head about silly things which in the grand scheme of things, do not matter. Only, they matter to you and sometimes they matter so much that you torture yourself over thinking about them.

I’m lucky enough to be able to keep my insecurities at bay most of the time. But the times when I can’t – which do tend to be either when I’m drunk drunk, or experiencing the boozer’s blues the day after drinking – in those moments, I can’t do much except let myself just sit in it. I eat loads of snacks, or I cry to my friend, or I watch a film, or I stare at the wall whilst listening to my sad playlist. And I know that if a psychologist were to read those coping mechanisms, they’d probably say that they’re all really unhealthy – disclaimer: I’m definitely not about to make a case for you to do exactly what I do. However, I do think that my generation tries to psycho-analyse themselves far too much and that we need to just feel whatever it is we’re feeling for a second, without self-diagnosing. Obviously, there are limits and lines where a person needs help but it’s also okay to feel naff for an afternoon. In fact, surely it’d be worrying if we didn’t feel like rubbish once in a while?

I’m not going to patronise you now by listing all the reasons why we should be kinder to ourselves because I’m not a motivational speaker (shocking, I know), but also because we all know this already and knowing that I shouldn’t criticise myself, unfortunately, doesn’t mean that I won’t from time to time. It’s about being able to strike that balance where you allow yourself to feel what you need to, whilst also making moves to pick yourself up out of any ruts you encounter – it’s not always easy, and I’m not a pro, but we do our best.

So if you do wake up and your face isn’t facing, or your body isn’t bodying, and although you know it’s just in your head you’re still feeling meh, then that’s alright! As our lord and saviour Hannah Montana once said: everybody has those days.

Is it really that embarrassing to be alone?

19th Apr 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 2 Comments

Now, I am a lot of things: some of them good, some of them not so good, but one of the not so good things about myself which I have been trying to change is that I don’t do so well with being alone.

I’d thought that travelling to various countries on my own in the months before I started university had been a decent way to combat this in preparation for moving out. What I hadn’t considered though, is that yes, I went through the airports and across the countries solo, but once I’d arrived wherever I was going it only really took me a couple of minutes before I’d found people to pass the time with. So, I was never alone for that long. This meant that when I found myself sitting in a room on my own at university for hours at a time, week after week, trying to find my feet in my degree, and surrounded by people I’d known for two minutes, I struggled. But those achingly lonely moments at university aren’t the ones any of us are supposed to talk openly about because these are supposed to be ‘the best years of your life’ where you come out of your shell; you’re not supposed to retreat back in.

In our first year, every single one of my friends experienced moments where they felt overwhelmed by it all, but I know that the thing missing the most for me was the safety you get when you’re around people who completely understand you. Like all of us, it takes me a second to totally relax and ‘be myself’ with people; in fact, I think that going to university has made me take longer to do that than I ever did before. Yet even after forming some of the closest friendships I’ve ever had, I still struggle with the fact that nobody truly understands me because they don’t understand my physical disability. My friends from school kind of got it since they saw me in a wheelchair for months at a time when my foot acted up, but even then they didn’t really engage with it because we were kids and me potentially having to be in a wheelchair for a bit was just something that happened. Then even though my closest friends at university do try to support me with my feet, they could only really do that after my foot had gotten bad and again, even then it’s just not really something anyone else can help me with unless they’re with me all the time. So, I had to accept that I have to do it on my own, and for the first couple of years since that realisation, it felt really lonely.

But being alone doesn’t need to have as many negative connotations as we like to give it. (I think) I’ve now fully accepted that all the disability stuff is pretty much a solo mission, and there will be times when I cry about that because it gets really difficult, but that’s just how it is. We each have to accept that there are always going to be certain things we can’t get from people. For example, you’re always going to have that friend who’s a right laugh in person, but you definitely couldn’t rely on them in an emergency; that doesn’t mean that the friendship isn’t worthwhile, or that the person doesn’t care for you, it just means that we shouldn’t expect every individual to be able to give us everything we need because if we do that, we’ll only be disappointed. Besides, that’s a lot of pressure to put on every relationship we have with someone. In practice though, it is difficult to accept this and I should know, because I’ve relied heavily on people and ended up disappointed by them more times than I could count, and I’d be lying if I said that I’ve completely stopped doing this. Nonetheless, I am trying to become more self-reliant because it’s just not healthy to allow the actions of others to dictate your happiness.

Stopping myself from doing this is an active effort, given that everywhere we look in popular culture we’re hounded by the impossible image of a perfect life where we’ve got a perfect relationship and perfect friends who never falter and are there for every second and every ounce of what we need. I don’t want to suggest that my friends and family aren’t brilliant because they are. Instead, the point I want to make is that we each have to learn how to be good on our own because no matter how amazing your friend, partner, or family member is, they could never be everything you need, or understand you completely.

Since I’ve started to be comfortable in doing things on my own like going to the cinema or to a gig because I want to and can’t be bothered to convince another person to come even though it’s not something they’re super into, it’s clear that there’s an unnecessary stigma around doing things in public on your own. For some reason, we’re telling people that they have to be with someone else, otherwise they look like a loser who nobody likes – and that kind of social rejection seems to be a fate worse than death for many of us. But seriously, when was the last time you saw someone walking around on their own and you thought ‘wow, what a weirdo, imagine being alone and not in the house, they must be a psycho’ ? Who even cares that much?

And if you do judge people like that then get a new hobby because that one’s lame.

Thus, the moral of today’s blog is that I think you should do whatever the hell you want to do and not rely on other people for your happiness. After all, when you lie down at night, it’s just you in that head of yours, so you’ve got to make sure that you feel comfortable being there.

An Indelible Friend

Tag: selflove