Standing With Women

I am not going to discuss the ins and outs of the case.  We all know the one.  You would have had to have lived under a rock for the past few years if you have not heard about it.

The girl, and the footballer.

Everyone has their own view and I am not here today to debate the outcome.  The verdict is, unfortunately, what has happened.  I do not support the verdict in any way but I do not want to talk about that.

I want to talk about rape complainants and what they still have to go through in Court.  From this case, to the one where the judge told the (convicted) rapist that "you simply could not resist" about an unconscious girl; to the one where a man got off on the defence that he "fell into her".

Women are already told many times that sexual assault is their fault.  My fault was that I have large breasts and as such. should expect it.  I cannot count how many times I have been grabbed over the years.  Women are trained to brush off these incidents.  We are told that we are making a big deal over nothing.  Like being grabbed at and assaulted without your consent does not matter.

So when the worst happens, why do we expect it to be any different?  Because sadly, it is not.

If the case even gets to Court which the majority of the time, it never does, what can we expect? Being treated like the Defendant instead of the complainant. Being asked what we say during consensual sex.  What our favourite positions are.  If we are promiscuous. Identities and addresses being revealed many times (in this case) on social media.  Rape threats.  Death threats.

Apparently all you have to do these days is find a mate who has slept with the complainant too and you are clear.

The comments I have seen about this case on social media has sickened me to the core.  But then, in darkness, there is a spark of light.  Jean Hatchet has created a GoFundMe campaign with the goal to share the monies between the complainant (if she accepts) and Rape Crisis England and Wales.

The complainant has not, at the time of posting, accepted the offer.  Whether she accepts or chooses to donate the monies to charity matters not.

What matters are the hundreds of people who have to date, after 2 days, donated over 14,000.  Nearly 800 people so far have shown their support in donations.  I have.  I currently donate to two women's charities every month but could not overlook this.

Whether you can donate a pound or a hundred, everything helps and it is going towards both the complainant, or a charity she chooses, and Rape Crisis England and Wales.  

I have to thank Jean Hatchet also at this point for having the ovaries to head this campaign which is also being run by others.  She knows, on a daily basis, what it is like to be harassed, stalked and threatened.  But she has the guts to do this.  I salute you.

We support you.  We believe you.  Some of us have been you.  Some of us may take the courage that you have shown and go forward where we might not have had the courage.  We are there for you.

Here is where you can Donate

Can't Cook Will Cook

I have always been a fussy eater.  Finicky my mum calls me.  

The thing is, most of the time it is more about the way certain food looks, or its description that puts me off; before even tasting.  

A lot of the time, the way that a dish is cooked can either start your love, or hate, for an ingredient.  Sprouts at Christmas time anyone?  There is nothing worse that boiled sprouts sittings there on your plate.  But I now have a new love for them after trying out a Sprouts with Chestnuts & Bacon recipe.

Going to a great restaurant and having the taster menu is a great way of discovering foods that you would never think of trying, whether you are a fussy eater like me; or just not that experimental.  I have found many favourite dishes this way; things that I would previously have never ordered.

Steak is something that I have always shied away from, not understanding how much people enthused over it.  The thought of eating a piece of meat medium rare was something that I could not stomach, pardon the pun.  

I remember a few months ago, being sit in a restaurant for a friend's birthday eating a seven course taster menu.  When the main dish of fillet of beef arrived, I remember looking down at it in horror. My best friend looked at me and said "If you are ever going to try a steak, cooked perfectly. this is the place.  Try it".  Two mouthfuls in and I was in heaven.

As someone who is learning to cook and expand my repertoire, steak is one thing that I really want to learn how to cook properly.  After (finally) discovered what all the fuss was about, cooking perfectly done steak for a dinner party is a goal I really want to accomplish.

Online recipes have been amazing for helping me to learn to cook.  Places like BBC Good Food and the Jamie Oliver website which tells you the difficulty rating of every dish have been really beneficial.

I recently came across this guide from Barbecoa Jamie Oliver with tips on how to cook steak.  As a novice, knowing what type of cut to buy (I would not have a clue) and what type of herbs to infuse the meat with is invaluable. 

I will let you know how my cooking goal goes!

I'm Not Fine

Depression is a strange beast.  The black dog.  

The illness that you are ashamed of, although shouldn't be.  The thing you don't talk about.  The thing that you shield from others.  The thing that you deny to yourself, until you cannot deny it.  The thing that is a stigma.  The supposed "fake illness".  A joke.

Today is World Mental Health Day.  Today, more than any other, is the day that those suffering from depression and anxiety should not be afraid of speaking out.  IT IS OK TO SAY THAT YOU ARE NOT FINE.

If I have made any progress in the last fifteen years of having depression and more recently, anxiety, it is to say that I am starting to realise that it is ok to admit how you feel.  

I am lucky.  I do not have debilitating depression.  I can function day to day.  My depression comes, and it goes.  Well, when I say that, what I mean is that it is manageable.  It is the social friendly version.  The kind that I can function with in day to day life, without falling apart in public.  

^ See.  Look at me.  Even in this blog I find it hard not to sell my feelings as "Don't worry.  I can still function as a human being.  My illness will not affect you".

My anxiety can be debilitating.  But yet again, I hide it.  Like with my depression, it is something that is not seen in my professional life, something that only a few people whom I care about, know about. I have been more honest in this blog about how I feel that to any person in "real life".

That is so wrong.

So do I feel?  Really?  What is being like this, for me, really like?  In honesty.

It is spending six months of my life last year in tears at work; whilst simultaneously hiding it from my boss.  It is having a wonderful day, and then at the end of it, realising how strange it feels to actually feel happy; and then realising just how few of those days I have.  It is your heart hurting, not from physical pain, but your soul crying; for reasons you do not know.

It is looking way back at the first two years, when it all first started and wondering how the hell you survived when so many days; you did not want to go on.  When pain was preferable to the sadness you felt.

I have come a long way,  I still have a long way to go.  I feel scared about what the future holds.  I wonder if I will ever meet someone as a partner that will put up with me when my depression comes to call.

But that is the problem isn't it? Depression should not be a stigma.  Something that we have to hide.  Something that we deny and try to deal with behind closed doors.  

I am not fine.  I doubt that I ever really will be.  I have dealt with that. There are millions of others, just like me.  We should not have to hide.  Our depression is part of us, but is no way all of us. 

We are not fine.  But that is ok.  We are allowed to feel this way and should not, ever not, cater our mental health to other people's comfort levels.  We are not whinging.  We cannot just think that it is lovely day and cheer up.  We do not choose to feel this way and believe me, if you had ever felt it, you would not choose it either.

Anxiety UK

Charity providing support if you've been diagnosed with an anxiety condition.

Phone: 08444 775 774 (Mon-Fri, 9.30am-5.30pm)

Website: www.anxietyuk.org.uk

Bipolar UK

A charity helping people living with manic depression or bipolar disorder.

Website: www.bipolaruk.org.uk

CALM

CALM is the Campaign Against Living Miserably, for men aged 15-35.

Website: www.thecalmzone.net

Depression Alliance

Charity for sufferers of depression. Has a network of self-help groups.

Website: www.depressionalliance.org

Men's Health Forum

24/7 stress support for men by text, chat and email.

Website: www.menshealthforum.org.uk

Mental Health Foundation

Provides information and support for anyone with mental health problems or learning disabilities.

Website: www.mentalhealth.org.uk

Mind

Promotes the views and needs of people with mental health problems.

Phone: 0300 123 3393 (Mon-Fri, 9am-6pm)

Website: www.mind.org.uk

No Panic

Voluntary charity offering support for sufferers of panic attacks and OCD. Offers a course to help overcome your phobia/OCD. Includes a helpline.

Phone: 0844 967 4848 (daily, 10am-10pm)

Website: www.nopanic.org.uk

Rehab

Rehab 4 Addiction offers a free helpline dedicated to helping those suffering from drug, alcohol and mental health problems. Rehab 4 Addiction was founded in 2011 by people who overcame addiction themselves. You can contact Rehab 4 Addiction on 0800 140 4690.

My Rosie

I never thought in a million years that I would be writing this post today.

Seven months, practically to the day that we lost our beautiful Ellie, we found ourselves putting my wonderful gorgeous Rosie to sleep.

My Rose.  An amazing bundle of fluff who had so much love to give.  She loved nothing better than a cuddle and greeted me every day after work, patiently waiting for me at the patio doors and after spotting me entering the gate; running for her favourite toy Tiger or Frog to come and show me.

My Rosie.  I remember the day that I met you.  Found in an advert in the paper, advertised for sale as someone was leaving the country.  Back then, you were not Rosie. you were Lily.

Looking back, it is clear that they simply did not want you (how is that possible?).  Lying in your box, showing not much interest and very sleepy, I am convinced that they had given you something to make you docile.  No water dish out, no food to be seen.  You were immediately ours and became my Rosie Posey.

It was their loss.  It was my privilege to have you in my life.  

After Ellie died, the love that you gave us tripled.  You loved to sit on mummy's knee, particularly when I was trying to do the Asda order and you decided that stroking you was more important than the weekly shop.  It was.

Here you are, in the next photo.  Those big brown eyes, so full of love, saying stroke me mummy! I would sit cross legged on the settee, my phone in one hand trying to complete the shop and stroking you with the other.

When you became ill in July I was so worried and rushed you to the vets.  Finding out that you had a mass on your liver was heartbreaking, but with no cancer found in the blood tests, I prayed to whoever is out there that we could have at least another year with you.

I still cannot work it out in my head how you went from being your normal, wonderful self a week last Tuesday, to having to put you to sleep on Saturday.  I am shell shocked.  It still does not feel real.

You became ill again on the Thursday.  Given medication and injections just as before, I crossed everything that this would make you better.  The news we received on Friday after a full day at the vets that your kidneys were failing was such a shock, but we had hope that maybe a drip and some medication would give you a little more time.

We brought you home that night, but you were no longer the same dog.  Looking in your eyes, you were no longer there.  You were supposed to spend another day at the vets on a drip, but we knew in our hearts that the fight, so quickly started, was over.

We both loved you so much, which meant that we could not put you through any more.  I hope you understand that my angel.  

The house is so empty without you in it.  My teddy bear has gone and you have left such a massive hole.  A piece of my heart went with Ellie, and now another has been taken losing you.  I will always love you.  

This is my favourite photo of us.  Me watching the Grand Prix and you cuddled up with me.  You have such love in your eyes, as you always did.  You were so loved.  Go and play with Ellie now.  I will see you again.

Confidence is Key

This weekend I went to the Curve Fashion Festival.  I will be talking about that in a later post, but first, I wanted to talk about the plus size community as a whole and what you receive from it.

You start out, much like I did, by discovering plus size fashion blogs and positivity.  Slowly, your wardrobe changes, your confidence to wear what you want, not what you think you should wear starts to progress and take shape.

Along with finding confidence in myself and what I wore, along the way I picked up something else, courage.

The courage not to cross a road when you encounter a group of people, just in case they are mean to you.  The courage to go out and do something on your own, without having to have someone with you or needing to speak to someone every step of the way.

Before I found the plus size community, other than in my home town, I never went anywhere on my own.  I wouldn't say that I was afraid, more that I just knew that I could not do it.  I did not have the courage to take those journeys without someone being there.

I remember a couple of years ago being asked to go to an event in London.  It was the launch of new plus size collection in Soho and I really, really wanted to go.  But travelling to London?  Finding my way around on my own?  Staying over?  My courage disappeared.

So what did I do?  I looked at all the plus size bloggers, all those who inspired me in their confidence, their style, the way that they were not afraid to go out into the world and live it.  I took the inspiration they gave me and went to London.  I came back a different person.  They helped to create a new me.  A more courageous me.  Someone who was not afraid to go out there and LIVE.

Which brings me back to the Curve Fashion Festival.  After spending many hours in the company of amazing women, especially the wonderful Kate Willshaw and the fabulous Stephanie Cummings (thank you again for the phone battery charge!) I was left with a couple of hours in Liverpool.  What to do?

The old me would have gotten a taxi to the train station and stayed there for two hours.  The new me?  She went out and saw a bit of Liverpool.  In a bright yellow dress, enough red lipstick to last me a decade and a smile on my face; I headed out.

A stroll along the Albert Docks, The Tate, a pirate ship (sadly my damn picture didn't come out) and the Echo Wheel of Liverpool.  A wonderful day.

Lashes from Doll Beauty 

Food for Thought

One thing that happens as we grow up and get older is that our tastes change.  What we are passionate about, the music we love; the food that we eat.

As a teenager I remember thinking that I could never love anything more than listening to Take That (the first time around).  These days, although I listen to the odd song for nostalgia, you are more likely to find me listening to Green Day, Beyonce, electronic dance; anything basically other than atypical boy band music.  

Growing up and into my late twenties I never liked tea or coffee.  But one day, after trying a friend's hazelnut latte, I was suddenly hooked.  Fresh coffee in my store cupboard and a regular hazelnut latte with a double shot espresso is regularly seen in my hands.

One thing that I have noticed is that when people get past retirement age and well into their twilight years, their appetites decrease.  The plates get smaller, the variety of food they eat lessens.  This can mean that their nutrition can suffer as a result.

This can be especially problematic with people that suffer from mental health issues like dementia.  From forgetting to eat, not knowing what they want to eat; to not wanting to eat altogether.

This is something that I experienced with a elderly relative of mine.  Seeing someone who used to eat us out of house and home transform into someone who did not want to eat is heartbreaking.  So what do we do?  How can you get nutritious food into someone who does not want to eat?

The wonderful thing about the internet is that there is a now a wealth of information out there to help you.  Age UK are a fantastic resource and have loads of helpful information about everything from falls prevention to helping to spot when a elderly relative is having issues like dementia or Alzheimers and what you can do.

There are also things like nutrition guides that provide tips for getting healthy, vitamin rich food into people who are not that bothered about eating any more.  Things like doing away with three meals a day, which can be overfacing and changing to small meals, dotted throughout the day,

If your relative is in a care home, one thing to try is perhaps getting a mini fridge for their room.  Keep yoghurts in there, carrot sticks and sliced fruit.  If you are bringing in food from home, try to liven up what they are eating.  Bring small selections of different things to awaken their taste buds like potato wedges with curry sauce or something with a chilli kick.  Moist foods like soups and stews are also brilliant for those who are having problems chewing.

If you are having problems getting your relative to have protein, what about something like a Peanut Butter Split Smoothie, here is a great recipe which gives a brilliant 13.5 grams of protein in one drink.  Tip, freeze the banana first.

Check out all the food recipe websites and food blogs that are out there now and you really will find something to inspire you to cook, and your relative to eat.

What to Wear to a Wedding

Every year we inevitably see a certain kind of envelope drop through the post box.  The wedding invitation.  

For me, the first question I ask myself is "What am I going to wear?"  I read an article in Cosmopolitan recently that answered many of the questions that we ask ourselves when choosing a wedding guest outfit.

Much of the advice I agreed with (no long white dresses, nothing see through; no jeans); but other tips such as no animal prints, I was not so sure of.  There is no reason why you cannot be fashion forward or wear a strong print at a wedding, it is just a case choosing the right dress.

Wedding Appropriate                               Keep for the Club

I have picked out some of my favourite dresses that I would wear when attending a wedding.  All of them can be carried through from day to evening and as this is a plus size fashion blog, I have ensured that you can find dresses from a 10 to a 32.

David Nieper Uncrushable Tunic Dress
10-24     £135.00

This is a very classic style dress that will take you from day to evening and is also made from an uncrushable fabric, meaning no creases after sitting in church pews or a very long best man's speech!

Asos Curve Fit & Flare Dress

16-30 £55.00

You cannot go wrong with a classic black and white dress.  I love the lines on this dress and the pleating will look amazing when twirling around on a dance floor!

SimplyBe Print Up Down Hem Belted Dress
10-32 £25.00

This is the boldest choice of my dresses.  It will look gorgeous on a sunny day and is must for a fashion maven wedding.

House of Fraser Studio 8 Aliona Dress
12-28 £175.00

Who doesn't love a little bit of sparkle with a wedding.  This beautiful dress has sparkle without being too flashy and I love the light green colour.

Which one would you choose?

Work Wear to Party Wear

Hi there!  It has been so long since I have done an outfit post that I thought that it was high time that I pulled my finger out!

Today I am talking about the conundrum that is work wear to party wear.  You know the scenario, it has been a long week in the office and the suggestion goes round to go out for a couple of drinks on Friday.  Now if your workplace is anything like mine, those couple of drinks after work can easily turn into you being on the dance floor at 1am wondering how the hell you got there. 

The question is, what do you wear?  I for one do not want to be carting party dresses and shoes to work.  When we tend to out after work, that means straight after work, so I do not want to be messing around changing clothes and changing my makeup.  So what to take?

For me I like to wear an outfit that can be changed up to suit any scenario, be it the quiet couple of glasses of wine envisaged, or the party animal on the dance floor with a cocktail.  

So my after work checklist runs simply to bringing my eyeliner with me (I would recommend the Nars Larger Than Life longwear eyeline which goes on like a dream and really does long all day), some concealer and a couple of accessories.

This is an outfit that I have worn on one of my Friday night jaunts, the outfit being changed up simply be unbuttoning a few buttons, taking off my cardigan and adding a necklace.

Sleeveless Shirt Dress £30.00

Fit is true to size (I am wearing a 26)

The length on the site size 37" but I would say it more like a 39"

Cardigan - old from SimplyBe

Peep Toe Shoe Boots E Fit £24.00

Heel height at 2 1/2 inches - perfect when you have a long day/night

Necklace - vintage - charity shop

Changing Up My Accessories

When I first found my confidence, everything about what I wore changed.  My clothing turned to dresses, my jewellery became statement and bold; my shoes took more of a backseat instead of having to be the only colourful things I wore.

I have been looking back at my old blog posts and came across one that showed all the costume jewellery that I had been wearing recently.

The thing is, your style evolves.  Whilst I still love costume jewellery and statement pieces, they no longer fit into my clothing collection.  If I were a more fashion forward person, I could probably make them work in interesting ways like I have seen many other bloggers do; but I am not.

I am still a woman that wears dresses 100% of the time, but now, unlike when I started to gain more confidence; every single one of them is patterned.  The jewellery that I want now is more simple, something classic that I can wear day or night.  

I just want one or two simple pieces that are versatile and I don't mind paying a little extra to get them.  After all, if I am wearing one or the other nearly every day, they will pay for themselves (see how I can justify anything?)

So here are some pieces that I have been looking at:

Michael Kors £89

This a bit of a bling piece but as a Michael Kors fan, I cannot resist.  If the pendant was larger, it would not work as a day/night piece but with the size, I could definately rock this for business wear or a cocktail at the bar.

Links of London £65

This is the perfect example of what I am looking for.  Simple, classic and will work with either a day or night time look.  This is definate contender and one I will more than likely purchase.

Mikey £69.30 (on sale from £99)

Again, this is an evening look necklace, but one that I could match with many outfits.  It has a vintage feel to it, which I love.  Very Downton Abbey.

Folli Follie £75

This is another prime contender.  You cannot get much more classic than a heart necklace, but with the double chain and a little bling, I am sold.

So those are my choices.  I am thinking numbers 1 and 4 as being the pieces I will probably go for.  Both need saving for but perhaps one could be a Christmas present from someone?  *Starts writing Christmas list

My Shovel List - Updated

Four years ago I wrote my shovel list.  You know the one, the list that has all things and people that you want to hit in the face with a shovel.

I was rereading my list and it made me laugh.  I got to thinking about some entries that would no longer make it on the list, and many more that would.  So here you go, my updated list.

The Too Happy/Nice People That Clearly Must Be Psychopaths

Bonnie Langford 

Anthea Turner

Morning people

Politics (including those hate groups who try to be political- Limited As I Could Be Here All Night

Donald Trump (obviously)

Nigel Farage (can I hit him twice?)

The EDL

The BNP

UKIP

Britain First 

The Tories

David Cameron

Boris fucking Johnson

Michael Gove 

Jeremy Hunt

I had better stop here....

The Pop Stars List

Coldplay

Justin Bieber

Robin Thicke

Mariah Carey

Robbie Williams (I used to love you Robbie, but now you need a shovel)

The People I Don't Have An Explanation For, They Just NEED A Shovel To The Face List

Sebastian Vettel

Gwyneth Paltrow

Clowns (these need multiple shovels)

The people who make the tampon ads

Pass me the shovel!!!

The "Women Are Evil As They Won't Date Me, Let's Threaten Them Instead" List

Where do I start?

MRAs

MGTOWs

Redpillers

A Voice for Men

Return of the Kings

Roosh V

So there is my list, who is on yours?

August Showers

A fact that is known to anyone saving up for something, be it a holiday, a present for someone or even a present for yourself; is that something unexpected and expensive to fix will always go wrong.

In this case, it is our bathroom.  We have had the same, small and increasingly tired looking shower now for about fifteen years.  One of those things that we should have changed out a while ago, but never got around it. 

Well, this is what procrastination gets you, because now we are told that the floor beneath the shower is sinking and unless we want to disappear into a hole in the floor one day, that floor, and consequently the shower needs replacing.

Can we have these one please?  Will only need a very large extension and about a hundred grand....

Our current shower is small, square and frankly not somewhere that you want to stand and luxuriate it.  As we do not have a bath, I think it is time that we put a little luxury back into our bathroom.  

I cannot believe how many options there are these days, not being one for going around bathroom showrooms (or inspecting people's bathroom fixtures); I was surprised at all the different options and sizes you can buy.

I have narrowed it down to these few options.  Lucky for us, my brother in law is a joiner/plumber/electrician extraordinaire so we can afford to spend a little more on the shower than originally intended.

Offset Quadrant Corner Shower £398.00

I like the idea of the spacing with this shower.  With being a rectange it is much larger than the one we have now, but with the curved edge, it will not take up a massive amount of room.

2 Sided Large Hinge Shower £625.00

I love this lovely large shower, but I feel unfortunately for our small bathroom it would take up more space than we have and the price is a bit on the steep side.

Twin Door Quadrant Shower £433.00

This quadrant shower is a little bigger than the one we currently have, but again with the curve it will save on floor space and is on sale with all the necessities included.

This is still a little more research to get done, but I think we are nearer a decision now.

Why I'm Done With Disclaimers

*At this point I would usually go with "Beware, this is a long read"  But I am done with disclaimers.  Read or don't read.  It is up to you.

Go to any article about women, feminism; crimes against women; tv shows or films with female leads and you will run into trolls or MRAs.  Usually both.  

After a few years of engaging and getting angry myself (I know I should avoid the comment sections but I cannot help myself), I have tried a change of tactic.  Amusement. I laugh as the insults get worse, the comments become more and more "But women bad, men good!". 

Recently I made a comment on Facebook on an article from the Guardian about who should be the next James Bond.  There was a spoof piece written in the Guardian entitled "Forget Idris Elba, It's Time for a Lesbian Bond  Clearly a satire piece and one that I found funny.  

Whilst some took it in the humour it was intended, there was the inevitable backlash of PC gone mad, feminazis at it again, don't fuck with Bond bitches!  

I commented "Jesus people, it is satire.  Don't worry.  Your Bond will remain the misogynistic asshole he has always been".  I wasn't actually intending to provoke a reaction, that thought went straight from head to keyboard.  But, all hell broke lose.

Long story short, I ended up deciding to have fun with it and play a game of troll bingo.  In 89 comments on my little sentence, I had points on the board for triggered, feminazi, overweight, lonely, cat lady, man hater and my favourite. obnoxiously mouthy.

via GIPHY

That is the funny side of the comment section.

Then, and this is the point of my blog post today, you find the #notallmen crowd.  The #whataboutmen crowd.  The "I'm going to ignore this horrible crime that happened to this woman, but look at what happened to this man one time five years ago" crowd.  The "you didn't mention men in this article/post/quote so therefore you are a misandrist" crowd.  The "feminist doesn't mean equality, look what this woman said 15 years ago" crowd.

A woman was raped "Men get raped too you know and false rape accusations are rampant".  A woman was beaten by her partner "Not all men".  A woman was murdered "women kill men too".

Hell, you can't even win a gold medal without your husband being given all of the credit.  You might not even have your name used, you are just called someone's wife

Time and time again you see the entire comments section filled with arguments that have nothing to do with the article, filled instead with "yes I know bad things happen to men too" conversations.  Those of us who dare to question the diverting tactics are immediately labelled man haters.

Now it is all over social media.  You cannot say anything about being a woman, inspiring women or anything that happens to women without being told that you should have mentioned a man.  Proof?

On Saturday night, after another "you got nothing to be vain about bitch" comment on a selfie, I posted:

"A woman having confidence is not the worst thing in the world.  You know what is? The people who tell her she shouldn't have any"

Nothing wrong with that as far as I can tell.  Nothing derogatory against anyone, other than the people who do that.  Something uplifting for women to remember.

However.  I received a message, that I did not understand, telling me in a series that I was trolling men and I was a man hater.  This did not come from a troll or the usual MRA fuckwit.  This was a regular (I thought) person.

I read and reread my tweet, looking for answers.  I asked why they thought the above, only for them to resend my message back to me, asking me to reread it.  I was completely oblivious as to why my tweet came across as anti men.

Today, I read my tweet again, together with the conversation that followed.  It dawned.  Dawned in a way that made me want to smack my head against a wall.  The reason they had a problem with my message was that it did not include that men should have confidence too.

I am done with this shit.  I am done with this whiny want of inclusion of men in every single thing about women.  We are seemingly not allowed to say anything about ourselves, without first acknowledging that some man, somewhere, has experienced it too.  

If you cannot get through a tweet, an article, a comment about women without crying "what about men"; I cannot be arsed with you any longer.  I will no longer engage.  You are not worthy of my time, in the comments sections or on social media.

Women are not required to mention you in every section of their lives. We do not need to pander to your insecurities any longer.  If your response to an article about a woman being raped is "Men are raped too" you are a pathetic excuse of a human being.  

If you cannot read a comment about a woman having confidence without thinking "Why didn't she mention men having confidence" I can't help you.  Reassess your fucking priorities.   I'm done.

I'm out.  

Just Keep Swimming

I am looking at you, the vast white blank space that is my new draft post.  You entice, making me want to fill you up with words, my thoughts on display, my feelings on show.

(Jesus, that sounded a lot more filthy than I meant it to come out.  But hey, the intention here is to get me writing again, so I will allow it, this once)

I can see the words that I want to type, dancing just behind this vast white screen.  The many topics I want to speak about, suddenly disappear the moment I open my laptop.

It used to be so easy.  I used to post 2, 3, 4 times a week sometimes.  With ease.  I could bang out an opinion piece in a few hours, the thoughts formulating in my head as I went through my day, pouring out of me when I got to my laptop at night.  

Do I have less opinions these days?  Hell no.  Probably more.  Am I less passionate than I used to be?  Definately not.  But the words, they still do not come.  Irritatingly, if I am given a subject, a starting point; I am fine.  The words flow easily like they did before.

Ironically. this post that I am writing to you now is flowing.  The words are here, within my grasp.  The thoughts come together.  This means that I still have it in me, but the dots are not connecting.  Is this writer's block?

I think what I am lacking is focus.  My work life is insane at the moment, my head is still coming out of the loss of my step dad and my beautiful little dog child, Ellie.  My anxiety has spiralled and I feel like I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. It has been a really shitty couple of years, but I feel ready, more than ready to clear the head space and become me once more.

I re-read a post that I wrote for the Huffington Post in 2014 this week. Mirror, Mirror On the Wall and it made me remember the love that I had for writing.  The passion that I felt about body confidence, about reminding people that we are more than just our bodies; that is ok to look at yourself in the mirror and like your reflection.

I have tried everything to reignite my writing bug.  It is still there, in force, but still under the surface where I cannot yet reach.  I need my focus back.  I need to clear my head of what has gone on before and just write.  I need the Twitter me to expand and jump on to my blog page.

via GIPHY

I think that I am just doing to channel Dory.  Instead of keeping swimming, I am just going to keep writing.  Not focus on a subject, just write.  Lord knows what you will be reading, but I feel that it is the only way to bring myself back.

I will try and throw some interesting pieces in between the journey of self reflection.  But I ask that you bear with me in the transition.  It is time for the gobby opinion to make a return to The Curved Opinion.

Work Handbags

One universal truth is that the bigger the handbag you buy, the more you will find that you absolutely have to have in it.

I remember in the late 90s (yes, that shows my age) going on a night out with nothing more than a purse that held my money and a lipstick.  These days, that list has expanded somewhat.  Phone, purse, lipstick, eyeliner, concealer, pressed powder, face brush, mini brush... Ah, to have my 1990s face complexion!

When it comes to handbags for work however, my tastes have never changed.  I need something that will go with every outfit (a different coloured dress every day could pose a challenge), something to hold the never ending list of things I absolutely need (read not really) to take with me, something that is aesthetically pleasing and timeless.

I am currently looking for an new work handbag so thought that I would show you some the bags currently in contention.

Asos £59.00 

You really cannot go wrong with a black crocodile skin (fake obviously!) handbag.  This is the first handbag I spotted on my search and is high on the list of contenders/

Carvela Winged Tote Bag £49.00

This bag would go with every and I love the simple gold detailing to it.

DunedinCashmere £69.99

This is the most professional looking of the bags I have been looking at.  It would go great with a suit for those days I want to look a little more professional.

John Lewis £33.00

I love the styling of this bag, although on a practical side it is only something that I could use in the Summer months and is cream a good idea when dragging around on the bus every day?

Vivienne Westwood £400.00

Ok, ok, I admit it.  This bag is not in contention.  I cannot afford a £400 bag for work.  But I LOVE it.  I adore everything Vivienne Westwood and I have a major style crash for this bag.  Sadly, it is not meant to be, but at least I can look at the picture.  Sob!

Going through all of the above, I think that the Asos bag is my best bet.  What do you think?

A Midnight Crisis of Confidence

You will have to forgive me.  This is a 12am post.  So not thought out, not rewritten or checked for confused sentences.  Just me.  Talking.  Panicking a little.

I have been very lazy of late when it comes to talking about body confidence on this blog.  That is something I am not happy about, because it is SO important to me.

As a fat woman, I have had a great year in terms of body confidence.  In truth, there has been so much going on in my life that it hasn't crossed my mind that much. Proof of just how far I have come.

Sure, I have momentary relapses, curled into myself when I have received derogatory comments, noticed the stares that were not complementary; but they have paled into insignificance with what has been going on with my life.  Mostly downs to be honest, for the past couple of years, although now, I am starting to see the sunshine again.

But, my midnight crisis confidence, 

I am a little scared.  A lot unsure.

I recently signed up for a year long thermal spa experience.  8 times a year which does wonders for relaxation.  So far, it has been with family and friends.  The spa is fabulous and although mixed sexes, I have, in the most part, felt comfortable in myself and ok with walking around in my swimsuit around others.  A good thing.

A couple of weeks ago I decided that I needed some spa time.  Just me.  Floating around in the jucazzi, staring at the stars in the ceiling in the dark relaxation swimming pool.  Perfect.  I booked my solo appointment, for tomorrow; without much of a thought, except for excitement of having a lovely couple of hours chilling out.

But, suddenly, the day has come.  The thought of walking around, on my own, in a mixed thermal spa experience in my swimsuit, terrifies me.  Do I feel any less because of who I am and what I look like? No. Do I take a scared breath at the thought of others looking at me, with judgemental eyes (as is inevitable at a spa from both sexes); yes.  A lot.

My safety blanket of a friend being there is not there.  I did not realise until tonight just how much I relied on someone else being there.  Someone to talk to when you see a judgemental stare, a derogatory glance.  I will exposed.  Nowhere to hide my insecurity.

So will I be the fat woman alone in the spa, hiding in the dark relaxation pool for cover, or will I be the woman who doesn't care, sitting in the jacuzzi actually enjoying some me time.  I don't know yet.

This is a far bigger step than I ever realised.  All safety nets gone.  Exposed.  Alone,  In one way I am excited.  Confident that I can meet this challenge ahead.  In another, I am so scared.

I am not the person that is able to talk easily with strangers.  I am odd.  I am going to be the fat woman alone in her swimsuit.  Experience tells me that this is not going to be easy. But I am more than just my body.  

So send me your steely looks.  Your don't give a fuck attitude.  Your "yes I am fat woman in a swimsuit" confidence.  

My screw you confidence may be waning today, but my stubborn "I will not hide" attitude is still full throttle. 

I am scared, as hell actually now I think about it, but I will do this.

My Voice Doesn't Matter

The first thing I have to say is that my voice does not matter.

I have watched, heartbroken, at the murders, because that is what happened, of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile.

Two men, two days, two needless and unlawful murders.  Because again, that is what happened.  But these are not the only examples of police officers who have shot down innocent people for no reason.

Michael Brown.  Sandra Bland.  Freddie Gray.  Trayvon Martin.  The list literally goes on and on and on.

In 2015 police killed at least 102 unarmed black people in 2015, that is 5 times the rate of unarmed whites.  37% of the unarmed people in 2015 that were killed by police were black, despite being only 13% of the population.

As a white person, these are statistics that do not affect me.  My privilege as a white person allows me to quote these statistics to you in the knowledge that this will never happen to me.  I will never be treated this way.  

I will never be presumed automatically guilty because I am white.  I will never have to watch my boyfriend die while I film as Diamond Reynolds did, for fear that the police will kill me and my child.  I will never be shot and killed whilst not resisting arrest. 

White serial killers are bought hamburgers after killing a church full of people.  Black men are being shot and killed for traffic violations.  

As a white person, I have many privileges.  This is why my voice does not matter.  You should not be listening to me.  I am not experiencing this prejudice.  This racial profiling.  Who you should be listening to are the black men and black women who are subjected to this, day in and day out.

I feel uncomfortable writing this.  Because I am talking about things that I do not know and have never experienced.  But when I see people saying things like "All Lives Matter" and coming up with ridiculous excuses for white officers shooting black people, I have to say something.  Because it is wrong.  So fucking wrong.

As white people we are so unbelievably privileged.  In ways that many cannot seem to comprehend.  So what should we do?  Listen to the people whom this is happening to.  Learn from them.  Fight against prejudice.  Speak up.  Force change to happen.

The problem is us.  Our privilege.  We are the ones that need to change. My voice does not matter.  Listen to the people that do. 

Sorry Not Sorry

Last week I wrote a blog post called Be Kind in which I talked about how I was trying to improve myself by being kinder and more helpful to strangers.  This week's task therefore sounds a little at odds with that idea.

I am going to stop apologising.

Now, when I say I’m going to stop apologising, I don’t mean for the times when I have actually done something wrong or stepped on someone on the bus.  I’m talking about the dozens of times that I say sorry every week, simply for existing or having an opinion.

The funny thing is, this behaviour was so ingrained that I did not realise that I was even doing it.

I read an article the other day which talked about how many times a day people say they are sorry, particularly women, when there is no need to do so.  So I thought that I would run an experiment and see when and why I was saying it.

The most noticeable and numerous amount of times I said sorry over the past week, was when I was coming into a new conversation with somebody.  My very first word when I started to speak was sorry.  Using "I'm sorry" at your starting point for sentence is a little bit odd when you actually analyse it.  

You knock on a door, you hear "come in" and then you walk in and say "I'm sorry".  For what? Existing?

You are in an interesting conversation or a debate; you start your point with "I'm sorry but".  I'm sorry I have an opinion? I'm sorry I am expressing my thoughts?

What am I apologising for?  

The second noticeable time I apologised this week, actually shocked me when I realised what I was doing.   Twice this week when walking down a corridor that only had room for one person, I have seen someone at the other end, both men on these occasions, and immediately said "Oh sorry!!!" and immediately acceded to their alleged right to the corridor space.  This was not asked for, it was assumed behaviour that I did not even know I was carrying out until my experiment this week.

This was not being polite.  This wasn't the atypical British way of "You go first" "No you" "No I insist".  This was acceding to someone else who in that moment my brain was telling me that they were more worthy than I to be in control of the space.

Why do I think that I am not worthy? 

So that is my new goal for the week.  To stop unnecessarily apologising.  To realise that I am allowed to speak under my own merit.  That it is allowed.  That I am allowed to exist in the area that I am in.

I have no problem vocalising my thoughts online, so it is time that my offline life matched my online life.  Being brave enough to own that moment as my own, that space,  It is a reaffirmation that I am enough.