How’s 2020 going for you? Whether good or bad, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that it’s probably not turning out exactly how you planned. I don’t know if you ever feel how I sometimes do – that it’s all a bit much and it’s hard to keep going.
I don’t know about you but my phone is always in my hand. Or in my pocket. Or on my bedside table right next to where I’m sleeping. I don’t think it’s ever more than a few metres away from me at any given time.
During lockdown we decided to plant some corn on the cob because we love the stuff. Now this wasn’t any old corn, this was rainbow corn. With the hot summer we had it grew really quickly and ended up being so tall that you couldn’t even see over it.
Imagine you’re in a shop, the shopkeeper’s taken your payment and you’re picking up your stuff to leave. What are the words that you usually say?
Neil called me to say he had to cancel our date that night, so I said ‘OK, shall we get together tomorrow?’ But he was acting strange and said he couldn’t, so I asked him when we could reschedule. He responded with ‘Emma, I don’t want to see you again.’ I just didn’t get it. Everything was OK, wasn’t it? So, I asked that fatal question… ‘Why don’t you want to go out with me?’ His response hit me hard… ‘FAT women don’t do anything for me.’
When I was younger my friends all used to write to one another. Every time we saw each other throughout the week at Girls’ Brigade, youth club or church we’d exchange letters, sometimes pages long, sometimes a quick little note.
It was my cousin’s birthday and the whole family were going to the zoo. I was nine and we were excited because we were travelling in a huge orange campervan together.
We heard the ice cream van driving up the road and my Mum took out her purse, YESSSS. The last few times it had visited my Mum had let me go and buy one without her, I felt SO grown up. I waited in line, holding a £5 note in my hand, and then it was my turn to order.
When I was 13 I remember standing in front of the mirror in my downstairs toilet with a friend. We were trying out the new blue mascara we’d bought (yes, it was a thing!) and she looked at me in the mirror and said ‘You’ve got really veiny eyelids.’ I remember it as clear as day. I suddenly became very conscious of my eyes and, every day since, I’ve covered them with concealer believing that they must look horrible and abnormal without it.
I recently asked a friend if I could speak to her about something that was worrying me, so we booked an evening for me to pop round and have a chat with her.