I’ve changed my mind

I’ve changed my mind

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to do something brainy when I grew up. (This was obviously briefly interrupted by the oh-my-god-when-I’m-16-I’ll-go-on-The-X-Factor-moment, but then we don’t really need to give 7 year old me that much attention here…) I always knew that I was good at academia, and that I’d probably go to university and end up being a professional nerd. But as I’ve gone through the education system and I’ve learnt to hold my own as a young woman, I realise that I’ve been listening to those good old societal constructs again in telling myself that a profession determines my level of intelligence.

But before I go on to my potentially sickening motivational speech where I tell you to fOlLoW yOuR dReAms and dO wHaT yOu lOve, I’ve got to first acknowledge how successful we are at convincing ourselves, and our children that we need to know exactly how our life is going to play out from the first time someone asks us what we’re going to do after school. And it’s not that I think we should stop asking children these questions, it’s only that we take their answers way too seriously. We categorise careers and people according to what subjects they were good at at school, or their ability to write an essay, or to solve an equation. Yes, certain jobs require a level of academic ability for you to succeed, but intelligence isn’t limited to your academic success.

Before I started my degree, I was convinced I knew exactly what job I wanted to go into. I thought I was going to come out of Durham University and somehow weasel my way into a job in translation in the music industry – don’t ask me how I expected to get there, but that’s what I wanted to do. However, I’ve come to realise that I don’t want language to be the overriding aspect of my future career. Don’t get me wrong, I love languages, and I hope to continue learning new ones for the rest of my life. But I realise that I’m 21, and what I love doing more than anything right now, is writing these blogs, making my podcasts, and interviewing musicians on the radio.

So even though it’s not a ‘conventional’ choice, or something the education system taught me exactly how to get into, it’s something that I have a real passion for, and without indulging in my ego too much, it’s something that I know I could be really good at. Oh, and it’s kind of ideal for the whole physical disability situation because standing for long periods of time or walking long distances isn’t really a problem when all you have to do is sit behind a microphone or a laptop…so you know, it’s kind of a medical choice? But I digress.

I might only be really young, but my age is my power, because I truly can decide to do whatever I want to do with my life. Maybe I’ll get it completely wrong, but if I do then at least I tried! Plus, if it does all go tits up, then I’ll always have that cheeky Durham University degree in Japanese Studies with a bit of history, history of art, and Korean thrown in for extra spice on the CV.

So f*** it, let’s give it a go.

We all feel like a sea cucumber sometimes

We all feel like a sea cucumber sometimes

I think that loving your body and the way it looks every single day is impossible. But don’t worry, I don’t mean this as a massive downer, or some precursor to a hugely self-deprecating blog: relax.

I just mean it in the sense that having insecurities, and waking up some mornings thinking you look about as attractive as a sea cucumber (those things are not pretty, don’t try and tell me that they are), is not the end of the world. Insecurities are normal and healthy, as long as you don’t let them overwhelm you.

For me, the things I don’t love about my body are largely based around how I think I look when I move. I just don’t like the idea that my disability causes me to have a limp or is accentuated when I walk. This doesn’t mean that I think it’s a big deal when other disabled people have a limp, it just means that somewhere in my head, I feel insecure about whether I might have one. Does that make sense?

You might read that and think: ‘no, that doesn’t make sense, why be bothered by such a minor thing? Plus, you are disabled, so if you did have a limp then it’d make sense and not be a big deal’. But that’s how insecurities work: I tell you what I don’t like about myself, you say you barely even noticed, that you don’t care and think that I shouldn’t either, I thank you, feel better for a second, but still duck my head before I see my legs reflected in shop windows.

So where do we go from there?

Well, what’s clear is that businesses prosper when people don’t feel good about themselves: that’s part of the reason we buy things. We’re also addicted to scrolling through social media and looking at examples of ‘perfect people’ in ‘perfect places’ with ‘perfect lives’. Basically, we like to see what’s beautiful.

So obviously a huge remedy to our insecurities would be to recognise that what we see on social media is a fragment of the truth, but we know this already. And obviously we need more varied representation of body types in the media, but it’s also impossible to represent everyone because each individual human is different – and there are a lot of us. So in all of this, we haven’t really been able to solve the problem…

And that’s because there simply isn’t a quick, one-step solution to getting rid of all of our insecurities. Humans will always find flaws in how we look because improvement, jealousy and seeking perfection are just in our nature.

But something that we can definitely try to do, is not let our insecurities consume us. By all means, feel it, and even wallow in it for a minute, but don’t let what you don’t like about yourself be the only thing you think about. You know you won’t like how you feel after thinking about it, so why waste your time like that?

We all have to become more aware of how we treat ourselves, so if you’re looking for a one-sentence piece of advice on how to do that, I guess all I can say is:

just don’t be a b****.

Corona, you’ve turned my world upside down

Corona, you’ve turned my world upside down

I guess the only thing I can really speak about this Sunday, is how the corona pandemic has affected my life. But don’t worry people, I haven’t got it. Or at least, I don’t think I have, seeing as people my age can just have it without knowing that they do…

But I’m pretty sure I haven’t got it…………………….? mOViNG oN

Living at University, my friends and I were all in a bubble where the world didn’t really seem to affect us much. The biggest excitement of our days was the prospect of a night out or any other silly s*** we could get up to. So when we woke up to be told that our University was going to shut early, and that we should take all of our stuff home with us just in case we didn’t come back for third term, we were all pretty taken aback. To add to that weirdness, I realised that I was going to have to call up KLM to ask them to move my flight because ever since February, my home is Peru. Which in itself is a totally new and bizarre concept.

I’d woken up ready to have a very relaxing day: I was going to watch some Netflix, eat some food, maybe shave my legs (Wild. I know), then go get drunk for my friend’s birthday. But at 2pm I realised that instead of this crazy Friday I’d had planned, I needed to speed-pack a suitcase and drive home to Yorkshire, ready to catch a flight to Peru the following morning. Complete madness.

Then when I was navigating through the airports, I was surrounded by people doing exactly the same thing. Some of them were pretty jovial and nonchalant about it, whilst others were complete nervous wrecks. The girl sitting next to me on the flight almost lost it when she spotted someone lying horizontally across the seats with a protective mask covering her mouth. I managed to calm her down by telling her that that girl lying down was severely disabled, and had come onto the plane in a wheelchair: she wasn’t dying of corona virus.

I’ve never had anyone look at me with such gratitude as she did once I’d told her that. *eye roll*

After over 24 hours, I made it here a day before the borders shut, and have been living in a state of national emergency ever since. What, you might ask, does that entail? Well! Let me tell you! It means that: if you leave your apartment for anything other than to go to the shop or to walk your dog, you’ll get arrested and fined £2000. So, since I don’t really fancy being locked up in a Peruvian prison surrounded by people speaking a language that I don’t, I haven’t been outside since I arrived. I feel it’s the most logical choice.

In all seriousness, the modern world has never experienced something like corona, and it’s led to a lot of things being cancelled. These cancellations has then resulted in a whole lot of sulking. And it’s 100% fine to sulk! I’m sulking about not having a summer term at University, and the idea of not seeing my friends for months. But just so we can help this thing end sooner and minimise the amount of people hurt by it, can everyone please just sulk at home? The sooner we sit in self-isolation, doing a jigsaw or playing monopoly, the sooner we’ll be able to get back to normal.

I’ve been in total lock-down for a week now and it’s really not that bad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not lOVing it, and I’d really rather not, but sometimes we’ve got to do things we don’t want to do. So don’t be selfish, and just stay inside for a few weeks until this all blows over. Also, don’t be that idiot who freaks out and stockpiles food: you’re not actually living through The Day After Tomorrow.

Plus! At least through all of this chaos and weirdness, the planet is getting some time to breathe as we stop polluting and abusing it so much for a few months. That’s got to be good, doesn’t it?

Can you be hot AND disabled?

Can you be hot AND disabled?

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

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

Like a virgin

Like a virgin

This week I want to talk about the one thing that FILLS the minds of people of all ages, especially those around my age and younger: sex – more specifically, losing your virginity.

It’s a big topic since everyone’s sex life is such a huge deal in today’s society. People put so much pressure on when and how they should lose their virginity, that the act itself is made out to be this big, momentous, personality-shaping, potentially life-ruining moment. To a large extent, I agree that the details of when and how you have sex for the first time are massively important, but not for the same reasons society forces us to believe.

First of all, I don’t believe that there’s a ‘right’ age to do it (except past the legal age obviously). Whenever you choose to have sex, as long as you’re both safe, able to change your minds and feel ready, then so what if you’ve known each other for years or for hours? There’s no need to build it up to be this moment where you need to have been in a relationship for years, on some romantic weekend away, with rose petals on the bed. Let’s be frank, for most people it’s kind of messy and uncomfortable and anticlimactic. Oh, and for most girls, it hurts like a B**** (!) for the first time: yeah, they don’t mention that bit in the movies, do they?

Also boys/girls (but mainly boys): if the girl bleeds, then just be a nice guy and don’t freak out about it. You may not have known that sometimes that happens (and that it’s tOtally normal) but equally, the girl might have had no idea either and your reaction will be a big deal in how she feels about it and herself – both at the time and afterwards. Speaking from experience, the boy I lost my virginity to wasn’t a saint in how he treated me overall, but when I bled he didn’t care one bit so neither did I – if you’re reading this buddy, thanks for that. Xx

Having worked at a girls’ school and just generally being surrounded by people, it’s clear to me that popular culture’s airbrushed narrative of sex and the loss of a person’s virginity is toxic for the individual. You have girls and boys with these unrealistic notions of what sex is going to be like, ultimately ending with disappointment when their reality doesn’t match what they expected. I have so many friends who’ve felt like they nEEded to lose their virginity before University, or in the first week, just so they didn’t have to carry the shame of not being experienced in that area. Sex is a super intimate thing to do with someone, and like everything, you get better with practice.

Personally, I don’t have anything against one-night stands – hey, if you’ve got an itch to scratch, then do you (!safely!) – but I very strongly believe that they should NOT happen through someone being ashamed of being a virgin. That shouldn’t even come into play.

So, if you’re reading this as a virgin, then please don’t force yourself to rush into it just because you think you need to, and don’t expect it to be perfect! I mean, I lost my virginity at 17, but at 20 I’m still yet to thoroughly enJOY sex because, fun fact: it takes a lot of females years of being sexually active and a few sexual partners to get the full experience we all hear so much about. So if you’re in that position too, then it’s cool man, you’re not the only one. Plus, just because you don’t have an orgasm doesn’t mean that it’s not fun.

If you’re over the legal age, feel ready, and are safe (in every way), then you’re good to go. But if you aren’t ALL 3 of those things- even if just 1 of them isn’t right- then like I told my Year 11 girls who asked me about this when I was a Teaching Assistant, the braver and more worthwhile thing to do is just wait until you can tick all 3 of those boxes. Looking after yourself is a l w a y s a good idea, especially when it comes to sex – and that goes for e v e r y o n e.

Losing your virginity might be a bit of a flop orgasm-wise, but as far as I’m concerned sex should always just be fun. So do it with someone that you like and feel good around – that way, it’d be hard not to enjoy it.

A n d u s e p r o t e c t i o n k i d s !

2019

2019

2019 has been the most influential year of my life, and it’s one that I’ll remember until I’m an old disabled lady, sitting in a comfy bed, complaining about the state of young people and their antics. Though, I kind of hope that I won’t do that last bit…unless it’s ironically…

Nepal was my first insight into what absolute bliss feels like. My favourite memory (of many) is sitting in a small pagoda in front of the monastery, on the side of a mountain, hidden by the jungle, as the sun was setting. I remember stroking the puppy sitting on my knee, 4 other dogs at my feet, and listening to the children singing their prayer in the temple to the background noise of all the other wildlife. I’m not religious at all, and I’m not really a spiritual person, but in that moment I completely understood why those monks chose to spend their lives in spaces such as that, away from the noise of the modern world. And no, I didn’t record it, since no recording on any device would’ve been able to capture it- but it’s always going to be in my head.

South Korea re-ignited my love for the Far East, and showed me that I can manage my disability on that side of the planet after all. The biggest indicator of this being the fact that I successfully spoke (broken) Korean in A&E of a hospital in Seoul, got myself some antibiotics, and didn’t have to fly home immediately. Oh, and I went on a date with a Korean policeman. Good times.

Fiji was the hardest of my trips. I had some points of bliss like Nepal – the most notable being singing to myself on a private island whilst washing dishes in the pacific ocean. It might not sound as sublime as how I described the scene in Nepal, but I liked the simplicity of it and I love the ocean, so it was perfect to me. But, I didn’t like all of my experiences in Fiji so I learnt how important, and possible, it is to make the best out of a disappointing situation.

Ukraine worked me harder than any of my travels, and it was some of the most fun I had this year. I have so many memories from those 2 months that it’d be too hard to pick a favourite. What that time taught me more than anything, was that I lOve people, and that I need to keep making friends from all over the world. As one of my wonderful American pals put it when we realised that we didn’t know when or if we’d have the chance to see each other again, I love knowing that you all exist somewhere in the world. I hope that you keep making people smile as much as you made me smile for those 2 months in the middle of the Carpathian Mountains.

This year I realised so much about myself and others whilst being in different countries, that when I came back I was able to appreciate everything in my native country so much more. To me, the Yorkshire hills are as beautiful as the Nepali mountains and the safety of being with people I’ve known forever, is just what I needed after all that newness. (That is a word btw, google it).

But overall, 2019 has taught me just how much I want to know about the world and everything in it. So I hope that the next 12 months bring me as many adventures as the last, and that next year’s post has as many happy memories in it as this one.