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Sunday 19 June 2011

On Self Discovery and Friendship

Everyone who knows me well and those proficient at reading between the lines may have noticed that I have been a tad confused and upset lately. Things at home had not been going well. Him indoors would rather I didn't blog about our marriage and I have to respect that, so instead I will be saying thank you to the long suffering members of the 24 Committee.

What is the 24 Committee you may ask...

The 24 Committee is a collective of female trade unionists who are so named because they are there for each other 24 hours a day. (Apparently, most women have this and just call them 'friends' or 'support network' but I was always a tomboy with intimacy issues so this is a new thing to me.)

They were convened at conference this year when I was in the middle of a hard time and have been there for the past 4 weeks while I sorted things out.

There are a couple of men too, they are like an advisory committee to the 24 Committee and are brought in to offer specialist advice, i.e., the Male Perspective... Sometimes you need a bit of perspective. I know I did!

Though it's not exactly a secret society, I will be keeping the identities of the 24 Committee to myself. You know who you are, that is all that matters.

So for the thank yous.

Thank you lovely, lovely committee member who first convened the committee in the first place. Thank you for looking relieved that I had finally asked for some advice and for not being phased by any of it. Thank you for your dirty laugh and for being at the end of the phone day or night.

Thank you lovely, lovely committee member who didn't really say very much but has a great line in concerned looks and an even better one in cuddles and wind ups. Oh it was fun wasn't it? There are some I don't think will ever recover!

Thank you lovely, lovely member who told me to hang on in there and not make any hasty decisions. Thank you for bearing with me while I was worse than useless for a month and for keeping me going and for giving me the benefit of your hindsight.

Thank you lovely, lovely committee member who knew I was going through hell and gave me her time unstintingly and unsolicited without pressure or demand. You were very perceptive. I really appreciate it.

And thank you lovely, lovely committee member who still listened to my confused laments even though she was experiencing the opposite. Glad you're happy honey, sorry if I killed your love buzz for even a millisecond.

Thank you committee member who made me see that it isn't disloyal to talk to people about how I feel. I hadn't realised that it was not only ok, but essential to be able to do so. You were patient and loving and got me very, very drunk in a safe place. And you let me slide down your stairs on my bottom.

Thank you lovely committee member who helped me separate head from heart and helped me realise they were going in the same direction.

The one who gave me gin. Thank you. The one who cackled with me when I really needed to laugh. Thank you.

Don't think I left anyone out... Now onto the Advisory Committee!

One of you has been where I am and was very honest.

One of you had your own gin story (don't ask... never again...) which cheered me up.

One of you discussed options with me and I appreciate both your candour and your generosity.

One of you has been the one person I could discuss every detail with and who has kept me strong and made me believe that I could strive for better in every aspect of my life. All night sometimes. Thank you probably the most.

And that is the whole point. I have discovered that I am blessed in my life because I have people who love me, who believe in me and will be there for me 24 hours a day, no matter what else is going on.

Right back at ya! I love you all and thank you xxxxxxx

Saturday 11 June 2011

Feelin' Sassy For The Alternative

Help. I think I may be shallow!

I am happy to admit that I am a woman of a certain age now. A socialist, trade unionist, feminist woman of a certain age.

Be honest, what image does that conjure up for you? Honestly. Go on, I won't be offended if you are thinking, grey hair, shapeless jumper (maybe even rainbow coloured) should have gone to Specsavers type glasses. Oh, and hairy. Feminists are always hairy right? We don't shave our legs or armpits for men, or wimmin, and we have eyebrows like Dennis Healey. Billy D Williams looks at our moustaches and says 'damn woman, that is some moustache!'

Well actually, there is more to being a feminist than how we look. You might be sitting next to one right now and never know it to look at her...

I try to make the most of myself. I don't plaster myself in make up. Seriously, who has time at 6am? (Women who have been sucked in by advertising, that's who!) I've never considered myself a great beauty but I got by.

It was my mind and my abilities that mattered not what I looked like anyway right? Right??

Ok, I admit it. I am 40  and I was feeling old and frumpy.

Not that I was bothered about it, it was just the way it was. I was actually enjoying being insufferably noble  about the whole thing. Like a Dowager Duchess I smiled at the young and beautiful,  wishing them on their way with a wave and a wistful look.

Not now though! I have found my inner sass! I got my hair cut, lost a stone in weight and started to wear a bit of lip gloss. The difference it has made!

Now I am wondering if my hairdresser has put a spell on my hair. I don't look like Charlize Theron, but I do have the Aeon Flux haircut. It is a great haircut. It is edgy and choppy and really easy to maintain. Takes me minutes in the morning and I leave the house with my head up and a sway to my walk.

I feel more confident, and that confidence works! I had a guy chase me up the platform at Clapham Junction station trying to give me his phone number. I have had much attention from both men and women, and whereas it may well be my Marxist feminist dialectic that brings all the boys to the yard,* sometimes a woman wants to be objectified dammit!

I may be an old married woman, but I am one who is going to admit to enjoying that frisson you get when being openly admired.

Shallow I may be, a certain age I may be, but I ain't dead yet!

Now, where is that eyeliner for the alternative?

*I would like to thank and credit @poppyh for alerting me to this. Follow her on Twitter, she's fab!

Thursday 9 June 2011

That's What My Heart Yearns For Now

Since I managed to claw my way kicking and screaming out of the conference bubble I have been musing on the meaning of love.

And of pride. Are the two the same thing? Are they interchangeable? What do they mean?

Anyone who knows me is well aware that I have a huge capacity for love. They also know that it is not easily that I trust and make good friends. Once you are under my skin I have no problem with saying 'I love you' in fact, terrified that those I love don't know it, I say it all the time.

And I'm proud of people. For example, I'm proud of every single member who took industrial action yesterday and immensely proud of every rep who made it happen. My chest swelled, my heart felt full to bursting and there were tears in my eyes.

Now, to me, that is near enough the same as the feeling of love I get for people whether family or friends. So you see where I'm coming from. Could I possibly love every member who walked out of work yesterday? You know, depending on how you define love, maybe I can.

It's not going to be like, or as intense as the love I have for my family and friends, but if you define love as wanting the best for people and doing anything in your power to help them achieve it, then maybe I do at that!

Either that or I need more sleep. Those picket lines start early!