Don’t ever trust The Voice within – unless it truly loves you.

There’s cake in the office. It’s placed down beside me and one of my colleagues who is gluten and dairy intolerant. Judging from the rich smells exuding from said cake as everyone passes by it has gluten and dairy in it.

I’ve just eaten so I don’t fancy cake but that doesn’t stop my mouth salivating at the thought of taking a piece … or four. And then Voice kicks in and starts questioning me, why do you want the cake? I don’t. What are you feeling? Not much, I am full and contented. I’m about a 6 on the hunger scale so I’m good. Then why are you thinking about the cake? Because everyone is eating it. Am missing out on something … No, I’m not. It’s the same Sainsbury’s cake they bought in for Mark’s birthday. I’m good, I am not missing out because I’ve had that cake before.

I’m resolved. I don’t want cake.

Casually four or five people start swarming around the cake like locusts ready to feast. Idle chit chat ensues while they cut off a slab one by one and return to their desks. You can hear the odd mutter, ‘Mmmmm just what I needed’ and ‘this would go perfect with a cup of tea.’

And then The Voice starts again.

Are you sure you don’t want some cake? I’ve heard it’s delicious. No, no thank you. Nothing has changed since you first asked me. But Jess said it would go well with a cup of tea and you’re drinking a cup of tea? Yes, I heard her say that but this is green tea and I know chocolate cake doesn’t go well with green tea. Can you please be quiet I am trying to work and I don’t want to eat.

‘Hmmpphhh,’ says The Voice.

At this point I’m not fighting The Voice. This is what I would call a conversation between The Voice and myself (or my stomach). This isn’t like how it used to be. It used to be demanding and restrictive. The Voice now has my best interests at heart but is still primitive in the fact that she hoards food for times of famine and she genuinely believes that any time I am not eating is a time of famine.

And then everything changes.

One of the men in his Capri pants strolls over, takes a piece of the cake and says to me, ‘Isn’t this tempting? Aren’t you on a diet? I suppose you can’t have this?’ And right in that instant, I want cake.

Not because I fancy the cake. Not because The Voice convinced me it could go well with my tea. But because someone in the office came over and opened their big mouth. They ASSUMED I was on a diet and they ASSUMED I would be tempted by something so sinful and off limits.

I can feel my pride and ego burst through my conscious mind and flare up like fireworks on bonfire night because I am NOT on a diet, and I can eat the cake if I choose to!

Suddenly the once calmed Voice is in protest and wants to rebel against this persons passing comment because somewhere in the comment it believes that person was judging it. The Voice believes that this person wasn’t being considerate or concerning but rather judgemental and suggestive that I should be on a diet.

‘How dare he,’ my she shrieks. ‘I will show him, Marnie hand me the cake.’

At this point the stomach, although a little miffed is still in protest against eating.

‘Common, there’s no space in here. Gimme a break!’ he sighs.

‘A break? A break?! Didn’t you just hear him? He said you are fat and intolerable and should be on a diet. He said you can’t have cake! He said you shouldn’t have cake! GIVE ME THE CAKE BECAUSE I WANT TO PROVE THIS FUCKER WRONG,’ cries The Voice.

*****

HOLD UP!

Skip to 1:50 in this video

If you go back for a second and re read what was said you might notice a lot of what I heard was not actually said.

******

I can now see what’s happening so before it goes any further I ask The Voice a few questions.

What are you feeling? Angry, frustrated, annoyed, challenged, fat, unworthy, judged.
Why are you feeling that? Because I’ve changed and someone made judgements on my PREVIOUS eating habits. I did used to be on a diet and I did used to turn my nose up to treats in a bid to ‘be good’ but I don’t do that anymore!
Did this person know you had changed your eating habits? I don’t know. It’s possible they didn’t.
Did this person offend you? Yes.
Do you think they meant to offend you? No.
Do you think you took offense when it wasn’t intended? Maybe.

The Voice knows now that it is in the wrong.

For a second it was propelled back to when I was 12 standing on the patio eating sour cream and chive crisps while my Dad and his friend are having a beer. After a few large handfuls from the bowl my Dad stops mid conversation to focus on me. He says, ‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’

I immediately reply, ‘No!’ and continue to shove crisps in my mouth except now I am not doing it because I am hungry and enjoying the crisps. I am eating out of rebellion and embarrassment at what my Dad has just asked. I was doing it because The Voice took offense to a comment that was never meant to be offensive had mirrored what I thought about myself in Dad’s words.

Nine years later and I know that my Dad would never have asked that question if he knew how much it would would have stuck with me. If he had known what it was like to be a young girl dealing with immense body issues and that one small statement could have the power to control his little girl for many years after. But the blame doesn’t lie with him and it certainly doesn’t lie with the man who had just asked a question about cake.

The blame lies with The Voice that never got past being an uncomfortable teenager who felt judged by her Dad. The same voice that spurs my ego to life like a peacock presenting its best tail feathers any time it feels challenged or judged. The Voice that still mirrors what it truly believes about me and my tendencies in the things other people say.

If The Voice truly loved me it may have heard my Dad say, ‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Because your mother is cooking your favourite dinner and I know you won’t want to miss out.’ It might have also interpreted my co-workers comments to mean, ‘Geez sitting next to the cake area all the time would be so tempting if I was on a diet. I know I wouldn’t have your willpower.’

A week ago in my old food restricting ways I would have been able to see my reflection in this one small comment and I would have let it completely destroy me. The Voice would have given in the instant it felt challenged and eaten out of spite. I am sure the longing for more than one slice to numb the feeling of unworthiness would have grown too strong and I am sure it would have lead into a fully fledged binge. But that would have been me then, before I stopped restricting and counting calories and basing my worth around the numbers on the scale.

The me now has given up these things and is learning that past experiences really do have the power to affect you but only you can give them the power to control you. I feel so relieved to know this is one focal point in which I can work on to become one with The Voice. After all, my biggest critic (and I’m sure the same applies to you) is my own Voice. The one that acts on primitive instincts and tries to shield my feelings like an older brother to a sister.

In this instance I think all I need to remember is, at the end of the day people aren’t judging me half as much as I think they are and no one really cares if you eat cake.

beautifulmirror

NOTE- If someone is judging your food choices its either because they are concerned for your health or a fatist/health extremist who secretly despises you for eating the things they restrict in their diet.

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WE WENT TO BONNIE DOON!! (persistance pays people)

So the man and I went on a city break over the Easter long weekend to a little town called Lowestoft and I’ve been super slack at reporting back about it. Never fear though because this post is video heavy so grab your earphones, gather round the campfire and have a watch. Note – take a look at this previous post for a little bit of background.

Also unless you’ve seen The Castle you just won’t get it and you’re a loser.

Bonnie Doon – Part 1
I’ll set the scene for you. It’s 5am, it’s chilly, we’ve just gotten in the car and Matt is fiddling with the sat nav to get us on our way. Let the games begin …

Bonnie Doon – Part 2
Now the road trip is successfully underway it’s time to settle into some of the classics. Please excuse my sweary man, he is easily provoked when he’s tired. Bless.

Bonnie Doon – Part 3 (pub edition)
Some may argue that the chanting can stop now we’ve reached our destination … but I disagree. Three pints deep and it’s time to turn on my charm.

Didn’t work ….

Bonnie Donne – Interlude
It’s fair to say even I am annoyed by my own voice after watching those videos so here’s a quick interlude. We’re pretty hammered and thought it would be a good idea to get snacks and steal shot glasses.

Bonnie Doon – Part 4
Pretty boy is nursing a headache after a yesterday’s antics and isn’t too pleased about going horse riding on the beach. Time to cheer him up.

Bonnie Doon – Part 5
And this is the moment you have all been waiting for ladies and gents. I never though it would happen but after four days of road tripping and sight seeing we finally made it to Bonnie Doon.

And that’s about as exciting as our trip to Lowestoft was. Oh and we saw loads of baby lambs and bahhhhh’d at them for half an hour but that’s another post for an other day.

Fuck a fake friend, where your real friends at?

Seriously though – fuck fake friends.

Fuck those who only want you to play pawn in their egotistical game of friendship chess. Fuck the ones who talk smack behind your back. Fuck the ones who never apologise. Fuck the ones who you always have to be in contact with for them to know that your relationship is valid. Fuck the ones who don’t understand what it is to connect on a real level. Fuck those people you can’t speak to without getting caught up in their drama. Fuck the people who never stand up for you. Fuck the ones who embarrass you. Fuck the ones who never grew up. Fuck the people who tell you ‘you’ve changed.’ Fuck the Queen Bees. Fuck the hierarchy. Fuck the ones who belittle your accomplishments. Fuck the ones who can’t keep secrets. Fuck those who medal in your life with the intention to hurt. Fuck the ones who can’t forgive. Fuck the ones who can’t forget. Fuck those who make you feel as if you have to stoop to their mental capacity to be a part of the group. Fuck those who think you have to talk about someone else to be interesting. Fuck the people who make you feel bad for being weird. Fuck the negative ones. Fuck the people you dread going to see. Fuck those who make you feel fat. Fuck those who make you feel like you’re too good for them. Fuck people who aren’t happy for you. Fuck those who bring the worst out in you. Fuck the people who make you feel like you need them. Fuck the small minded people. Fuck bitches. Fuck gossip. Fuck egos. Fuck jealousy. Fuck the flaky. Fuck the freeloaders. Fuck the people who tarnish your name. Fuck the people who take your shine. Fuck the ones who don’t bring out anything but the best in you. Fuck the friends who are disguised as your enemies. Fuck the ones who only call when they need something. Fuck the people who think you need them.
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck a fake friend.

Drizzy

Did you know …

Did you know that the best time to give a compliment is the exact time you think it?
I stole that quote from the movie Don Hemingway but that’s not the point.

When was the last time you thought something positive about a beautiful woman who walked past or a man wearing a super sharp suit and said something to them? Did the urge to stop them and say, ‘Red is really your colour. You look fantastic!’ prevail or did you saunter back into your own life letting them and that moment pass?

I can tell you that yesterday I handed out 4 sincere compliments. 2 were to people on the street, 1 was to a colleague and 1 was on Facebook (don’t know if it still counts.) Not because I am a saint but because I would like to think that I could, only for a moment, build a connection between someone who doesn’t and may never know my name. Have a moment with them that is completely selfless. A moment I created in an act of unselfish service to make a stranger feel better. Feel important. Feel valuable and noticed. Isn’t that what we all want? To be noticed …

Well here’s the kicker, if you want to be noticed you’ve got to notice.
Start with seeing the big things like the height of buildings. The sky. The sound of a passing lorry. And work yourself into seeing the small things like the wrinkles that have formed on your parents faces since you’ve been away. The flick of a woman’s hair. The cackle of your co workers laugh.

From there you might even be compelled to FEEL things. The sting of a chilly autumn wind. The legs of your trousers on your skin. Your fingers tapping on a keyboard. The thrum of a heartbeat as you drift off to sleep. What is it to physically feel something?

Once you can see and feel, maybe just maybe the sensory blinders that had been blocking you from noticing life would lift and you would be able to start to appreciate little things. And everything would become magnified as if you had been in a freak accident and you now have super hero noticing powers. Not in a noisy sense though. Not as if you were on ecstasy and everything is louder and brighter and beautiful – but as if you just had the power to hone in on things you knew existed but never really noticed.

Once you can really see and feel and appreciate everyone and everything in its essence and being – wouldn’t you stop feeling so ashamed or nervous about shooting a compliment to a deserving stranger? Wouldn’t you feel compelled to notice the beauty of their skin, perfume, eyes, trouser suit, pocket square and let them know
‘Hey you riding that hotdog. I notice you and I think what you got going on is impeccable.’

Could it be possible that the steps to being noticed is to feel, see, appreciate, learn to notice and then, and only then be noticed yourself? Wouldn’t your appreciation for yourself allow you to inadvertently be noticed by yourself? I don’t know, maybe I am just rambling … my initial blog post was going to be about the correlation between Nutella cupcakes and the Big Bang Theory so I guess you could say I am rambling.

#foodforthought #foodformouth #foodforuniverse?

pauladeen

ROADTRIP: We’re going to Bonnie Doon

I must flee … to my (almost) Mother in law’s purple Micra so Matt and I can adventure to a pokey little town called Lowestoft for the Easter long weekend.

Anyone who lives in London knows to stay in London during any kind of publicly announced ‘work free time’ isn’t the done thing. So we are packing up and shipping out (okay it’s a 3 hour, 4 hour tops road trip) and heading to the seaside. We do love our road trips because there is always too many sweets … which undoubtedly results in far too much of this behaviour.


Last night, Matt asked if I was going to go for a swim in the ocean when we got there. I think this was as much an answer he needed.

Sun sun sun!

Also since we aren’t jet-setting to somewhere romantic like France and it’s not Matt’s birthday I have no interest in hair removal.

No shave November went on longer than intended

Did I mention when you search ‘things to do in Lowestoft’ very little comes up? Also when you put the town into Trip Advisor there isn’t even a list of top attractions. Seriously, take a look here. God we are going to have such a good time.

Scones and cider are first on the agenda, me thinks.