Realising life is what you make of it.

Copyright of University of South California

***caution: this post is a bit “deep”!!***

I often think back to a conversation me and my friend had in a café near Blackfriars when we compared notes on our life plan. It went something like this (we were 23 at the time):

1. Work on our careers (I had planned to ‘make it’ as journalist by 25…)
2. Marriage proposal at 26
3. Get married at 28 and buy a house
4. Start thinking about kids at around 30

We laughed when we realised our plans were exactly the same, and then even more so when we realised the man on the table next to ours had been eavesdropping our conversation and was staring us in disbelief. “Do the guys know about this?” he asked us.

The guys in question are the same ones we’re still with today, three years on. And about four months ago, my friend’s boyfriend proposed! I almost cried when she told me, I was so happy for her.

Soon after one of the Leaf’s close friends proposed to his girlfriend, and on Facebook it seemed as if engagements were being announced all over the place.

And then something strange happened. I started wondering whether I wanted to get married! (I don’t, by the way. Well, I’m not fussed about it right now).

I guess the thing I really like about the idea of getting married is the commitment, and the fact that someone loves you so much that they would be willing to commit to you like that. If we’re going to start analysing why I feel like this, I suppose it does come down to my insecurities and the need I have to feel wanted by somebody. And really, it is silly to want to get married simply because of that!

I think what also comes into is the feeling that people are further ahead than me. I also know that must sound ridiculous when it comes to relationships but I’ve never liked feeling like I am falling behind – much more so when it comes to careers though.

So thankfully I’m past wondering if marriage is for me as for a moment there I started seriously wondering if the Leaf and I were on the same page (I wouldn’t say he’s against marriage, but he’s certainly not pro-marriage!)

I guess a lot of people start questioning things in their life when it seems like everything is going hunky-dory for everyone else, but we have to be realistic about these things. I mean, would you really want your life to be exactly the same as everyone else’s, or would you prefer to do things your way?

And as I’ve got older (a line I never thought I’d come out with!), I’ve come to realise that comparing your life with other people’s can be a very dangerous game, because – let’s face it, there’s always someone who has got a better life than you. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of direction in your life, but sometimes making plans can lead to unnecessary disappointment.

I mean, say if I had ‘made it’ as a journalist aged 25 – but then when I got there it was my worst nightmare. If I stuck to my ‘plan’, I’d have to stick it out regardless, right?

Well, at 25 I did get my big break in journalism when I went to work for a regional newspaper as a trainee reporter. But once I was there I realised it wasn’t the kind of journalism I wanted to do. I stuck it out for six months and then I decided being happy was more important than my CV. So in some ways I am thankful my plan has gone a bit pear-shaped.

While I fully admit I do have my down days, like most people I guess, I think the key to feeling happier about myself is all about being rational and keeping things in perspective.

Ok, so I’ve had a rubbish day at work – and it’s only Monday. Surely it can only get better? I want to buy a house but I’m about £20k off having a deposit… For every £1 I save for my summer holiday, I should save the same for my new home. I feel like I’m miles away from getting that feature writer job I so badly want. Be patient, write when you can – good things come to those who wait.

I just think I have to remember that life really is what you make of it, and ticking off boxes from my life plan won’t necessarily make me any happier.

There’s more to life than finding that dream job

Regrets. You’re not supposed to have them, are you?

Well, some days I personally find it hard to not wonder what life might be like now if I had made a different decision. But while I’m not the kind of person who can hold my head high and say ‘everything happens for a reason’, I also know there is no point in dwelling on what could be, because you end up being your own worst enemy.

Like most people, though, I do struggle at times. I especially find it hard to not regret some of my career choices.

About a year ago I was on track to becoming a journalist and while I did have days when I felt like giving up and staying in a job which bored me to tears, I was very determined to stick with it and fulfil my dream.

When I was finally offered an opportunity to be a reporter at a local paper, it was the best thing ever. But not long into the job, I started questioning if this was what I wanted after all. It turned out that my ‘dream job’ was, in fact, a total nightmare. The long hours I could cope with, and I knew the criticism was just part of it all. But, for me, the atmosphere was horrible. I dreaded going to work and there were more than a few times when I cried in the toilets once I was there.

Soon, I found myself thinking that I had made a huge mistake leaving my old job for this. I missed having no financial worries and feeling respected and appreciated by my colleagues. If I worked half an hour longer than I had to, my then manager would come over and tell me to not work too late. He knew how hard I worked, and when I left after three and a half years with the company he told that if I ever needed a job, there was always one there for me.

So eight months after I embarked on what was supposed to be the job I would be in for life, I’m going back to the job I once thought I hated. I can’t say I’m over the moon about returning but if all of this has taught me anything it’s that there really is more to life than finding that dream job. When you consider that the average person will spend 30% of their life working, I know that I would much rather work with nice people and feeling like I am valued as a colleague, rather than working all hours God sends in a job that sounds exciting, only to feel unappreciated and unhappy.

That’s not to say I am giving up a journalism. The bottom line is, I love writing, and I do hope that one day I get the opportunity to write full-time for a living and find a job that ticks all my boxes. For now, I plan to freelance in my spare time and enjoy being back in London.

Marriage and babies!

About a year and a half ago one of my close friends from school dropped a bombshell: she was pregnant. I, literally, couldn’t take the news in and I walked around in shock for a few days before actually starting to realise that six months down the line, she was going to a mum.

To begin with, and this is completely selfish I know, I felt pretty sad. I felt like I was losing my friend. What could we possibly have in common anymore? Our crazy nights on the town were a distant memory, for starters, and I’m not crazy about kids. But once I moved on from being selfish, I realised how amazing this was: she was going to be bringing a little life into the world, and I was going to be its auntie (kind of!) The baby wasn’t planned, and I really admired my friend for her courage. I’m not sure what I would have done in her position.

Her little boy, Theo, turned one last month and my friend absolutely adores being a mum. So much so that baby number two is on his or her way!

Back in college, I never expected her to be one of first out of our group of four to settle down first. The person I did expect to settle down first is married with a child and that happened about two years ago now, I think.

Well, a fortnight ago another close friend from school told me some news…her boyfriend of four years proposed! About six months ago she told me she’d love to get married so I knew it was on the cards, but it also came as a surprise. A lovely surprise, may I add! So lovely that it actually reduced me to tears. I know that her and her fiancee are just perfect for each other, and I can’t wait for the wedding. No doubt there will be a lot of tears when that day comes around!

It’s also scary to think that, by then, I might have some news of my own. (Don’t worry boyfriend, we’re talking at least a year and a half, and hey, my ‘news’ might be something completely unrelated to marriage and babies. Might.)

Jobhunting, and the realisation that you can’t plan your life

If someone would have told me six months ago that what I thought was my ‘dream job’ would in fact turn out like this, I wouldn’t have believed them for a second.

As of October 8, I officially became a kept woman. On the surface it all seems fine, you know, not having a job – the thing that you’ve actually secretly dreamt of for years (‘oh, wouldn’t it be lovely to sit on your arse all day with f*** all to do but eat chocolate). Well, people, I have some news for you: it isn’t good, not for me anyway.

If anything has come of this situation it is the realisation that I don’t do sitting around. I do do eating chocolate but there’s only so much you can have really before the feelings of guilt sink in at the sight of that empty wrapper of Galaxy, and you feel completely sick.

I feel like a student with no essays to write, or a mother with no children to care for… Oh, I’ve just thought of one more! A postman with no letters to post. Haha, yeah that one is awful, but you catch my drift.

So, here’s what happened. Back in March I was offered a job I had been trying to get for the last year and it felt great. But at some point in the six months that I worked my arse off, often for 12 hours a day and then for another couple of hours when I got home that evening, I figured out that I was pretending to be someone I’m not.

I’m not the kind of person who can get excited about hearing someone has just died in a car crash, then want to track down their family and knock on their front door, and ask “how are you feeling?” Or happily search on Facebook using terms such as ‘RIP’ or ‘died’, etc., to try and find a story. It’s not me…it’s just a little bit grim really.

There were times, however, that I really loved what I was doing. I was writing everyday and it was an amazing feeling, especially when my copy didn’t get ripped to shreds. And one time I interviewed the lead singer of  Toploader and spoke to Matt Cardle’s mum!

But by the time my six-month contract was up, I had come to the realisation that this wasn’t for me, no matter how much I thought I had wanted it a year earlier. What I did know, though, was that I was one step closer to finding my niche: feature writing.

So now I’m back in London and doing all I can to forge a freelance career for myself. I have to say, unemployment aside, I feel so much better. I’ve actually got time to take a lunch break these days. Me and the Leaf are living together again, and I’m cooking Nigella-esque dinners every night.

It’s funny though because in March I forged a plan for myself, and now that couldn’t be further from what I want to do. So from now on my only plan is the scrap the plan. Who needs them anyway?

I got the dream job. Now what?

Four months ago I took a plunge and went for a job that could give me the writing experience I had wanted for so long. It felt wonderful, if not a bit scary.

It was March 2012 and I’d just got off the phone to my new employer, who, despite the fact I’d not yet passed my driving test (a key requirement for the job), had decided to give me a chance. No longer would I be a frustrated writer, desperately waiting for someone to give me my dream job. I now had it and was going to grab it with both hands!!!

But two days on I realised that chasing my dreams came with sacrifices. I’d spent the last eight months living with the Leaf and although he’d said to begin with he would consider moving back, he decided that for now he didn’t want to.

Well, that news threw a spanner in the works to say the very least. Admittedly I did think about not going for the job but I knew deep down if I did that I would resent him for it and so decided to stick to my guns. We managed living apart when he was in Newcastle for nine months, so why would this be any different?

Well, unfortunately life – and love – isn’t that simple. Fourteen weeks in, things could be better. But equally they could be much worse, so that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

For the first couple of months the stresses of the new job and living away from the Leaf put a strain on our relationship. Thankfully I feel that we are now back on track – but moving away from my boyfriend and our lovely flat has been quite a challenge.

First and foremost I miss him. I underestimated the power of his cheerful personality and how much of a difference a cuddle from the man you love can have on you!

Secondly, I miss my freedom. I miss having my own home and doing what the hell I like. I miss waking up in my own bed and having all my stuff around me. I miss having my own space.

But don’t get me wrong – it’s not all bad. I’ve managed to do what some people though unachievable: I passed my driving test in 10 weeks. I also get to see some family members on a daily basis now, I have all my washing done for me and I haven’t cooked in about three months. So in some ways it has been bliss, but in others I feel like I’m a teenager again.

In an ideal world I’d get to have the best of both worlds, but unfortunately life isn’t always what you want it to be.

But what I do have is a roof over my head, food in my belly, love in my life and a job that will hopefully help me to get one step closer towards where I want to be.

Meet my other half, the football fanatic

Since living with the Leaf I’ve seen a side of him that I never thought possible.

For those of you who do not have the pleasure of knowing him, the Leaf is a happy-go-lucky kind of chap, who will only express anger in two situations.

Firstly, when he is driving (be warned: do not cut him up!) And, secondly, when he’s pissed off at a football game.

Thankfully, the two only happen now and then, and never at the same time (I dread to think what would happen if they did!)

When a big game is on, the Leaf will cancel almost anything for it. Last week he even turned down watching the Spurs v Man City game at the pub with his friend because he “wouldn’t be able to concentrate”, preferring to watch it at home on his own.

I try not to laugh but living with such a fan can be quite amusing at times – as well as scary: when Defoe scored in the 60th minute, he grabbed me and gave me the fiercest hug I’ve ever experienced; my back hasn’t felt quite right since.

Your football team losing a game is never a nice feeling, especially when – like Spurs – there seems to be so many missed chances and unfair disadvantages (like should Balotelli have even been on the pitch to take that penalty?) and I too get caught up in moment and frustrated at what often seems to be bad luck.

But unlike the Leaf, I can let it go and a few moments later will be happily watching an episode of Friends, while he mopes around the flat for the rest of the afternoon.

Tonight he’s gone to White Hart Lane to watch Spurs v. Wigan, a game that – as he puts it – should be an easy three points for Tottenham.

But, while I am quietly confident that his beloved team will do well, I can’t ignore the fact that Spurs are a bit like Jekyll and Hyde. You just don’t know what you’re going to get with them – and, unfortunately that means you just don’t know what you’re going to get with the Leaf.

Take, for example, mine and the Leaf’s first trip to White Hart Lane together. One of my conditions for going was, “I want us to win.” Ok, maybe this was unfair of me; you can’t predict what’s going to happen after all – but at the same time, who wants to go and watch a football match on a freezing winter night, only to come away feeling disappointed? Yes, exactly.

The Leaf casually replied “Oh, we will” as he selected a Tuesday night game against Sunderland. I trusted his judgement and went along to the game, confident – and a little bit smug – that this was going to be a walk in the park (and that I’d get to see Gareth Bale in real life!)

An hour and a half later we battled our way out of the grounds and faced a treacherous walk back to the tube station. We hadn’t lost – but at the time we hadn’t won. Yes, a draw. Against Sunderland.

The Leaf was in a miserable mood and so was I. It was cold, I was hungry, and we still had a hour-long journey home. We bickered, I snapped, and we’ve never been to a game together since.

But while I forgot all about it by the next morning, the Leaf hadn’t. For him, Tottenham’s match with Sunderland wasn’t just a game – it was a commitment. A life choice.

Come rain or shine, Spurs is the team he’ll support and whose games he’ll watch, whether or not they frustrate him, because – like all football fans – he hopes that one day they’ll do him proud.

As pathetic as the Leaf’s devotion to Spurs may or may not sound, I actually think feeling so passionate about something is quite admirable. Ah, bless him.

All I want for Christmas is…clear skin

The festive season is fast approaching – which of course means presents, a huge amount of alcohol and an almighty chocolate, crisps and sausage roll binge.

But while most people are watching their waistlines and shopping for the perfect party frock, I’m just hoping and praying my skin sorts itself out before the Christmas snaps commence.

You see, there’s one thing worse than catching a glimpse of myself on a bad skin day, and that’s people who insist on taking pictures of me when I feel like this about my skin and then uploading them on Facebook without my prior consent.

One of my younger sisters is terrible for this. “Don’t put that on Facebook,” we’ll plead as soon as she’s taken an awful photograph.

Then, a few hours later, we’ll discover that she’s gone and done just that… Honestly, even if the back of your head is in the background of a photo, you’ll be tagged. It’s infuriating!

So, pictures of me feeling and looking worse for wear are no doubt going to appear on Facebook over Christmas, and just the thought of it almost makes me want to cry.

I don’t know why my skin bothers me as much as it does; I know it must seem very self obsessed, but it’s just one of those things.

The problem is, no matter what I try, my skin just isn’t getting any better – despite going back to my favourite cleanser and using the topical stuff my doctor prescribed. I mentioned it the last time I went to see my doctor and have been told it’s because of the pill I use. But, having spent the last two years trying to find a pill that suits me, coming off Cerazette just isn’t an option.

The doctor suggested using a cleanser that is really high in salicylic acid to, as she put it, completely strip the skin of all the oil. I know she’s a doctor and I should probably listen to her advice, but really? I’ve heard stripping the skin can make things even worse in the long run.

About a month or so ago I came across Antimony, a natural health and beauty shop near Farringdon, London. As expected, a lot of their products were quite expensive but after talking to the sales assistant about my skin problems, I was offered a free consultation with the nutritionist to see if my diet could be to blame. When I told her how fed up I was of trying every skincare range under the sun, she told me: “You don’t have to live with bad skin.”

I left the shop with a spring in my step and a smile on my face because, for the first time, she made me feel that I could overcome my bad skin. In the past when I’ve been to department stores to look at Clinique or Clarins’ products, the beauty advisors have looked at me with pity. “Good luck,” they’d say, while I handed over £30 I’d never see again. But Antimony was different.

I’m going back for the nutritionist consultation next week and although I’ve been told to not expect results overnight, I’m certainly feeling better about the chance of having clearer skin by Christmas.