Someone asked me this week why I blog. It's an interesting question, because I suppose everybody has a reason. I first started blogging because I was studying journalism, and some employers won't even consider you for a job unless you blog regularly. I also blog because I find it quite therapeutic, and I get a lot of positive feedback from people. I've also heard the criticisms - I don't really care what people have to say; they're still reading it. Obviously, I'm now just blogging for the big bucks - and in the hope someone will want to make a film about my life. I'd like Scarlett Johannson to play me. And I'd have "Something Inside So Strong" as the title song. I've not really thought about it though.
Anyway, the same person who asked me why I blog also got me to look over a post of their own. It was centered around how they were feeling about someone they loved who had hurt them. It was quite specific and although it was well-written, it was equally obvious who it was aimed at. Regardless, it got me thinking; do boys actually realise what they do to a girl when they hurt them?
Now before an outcry comes from the male human race that girls hurt boys too - I know that. I've done it; in some ways we probably do it a lot better. So I look forward to reading a post from a guy that explains it from the other side. But as a girl, I'm going to talk about how it feels to be hurt by a boy.
When he makes negative comments about how you look. When he talks about how pretty other girls are in front of you. When he sleeps with someone else, whether it's behind your back or blatantly. When he ignores you for no apparent reason. When he says he loves you then does something completely contrary to the meaning of those three words. When he eats the last chip (I'm kidding). I could go on and on; all of these actions are detrimental to a girls confidence and make them feel like absolute shit. I can't put it any simpler.
The reason I'm talking about this is because I feel there is a constant pressure for girls to be strong and maintain a "big girls don't cry" mentality. I'm an expert at putting on a brave front - I had to endure 3 vaccination jags this week - but sometimes it's healthier to confront a problem. No girl wants to admit they got hurt, or spent hours crying over someone who they felt didn't give a shit - but we all have, and at some point we probably all will again. Some girls, myself included at times, can be of the opinion that revealing feelings of hurt can give satisfaction to the boy doing it - but if that's the case when you tell someone they've upset you then you don't want to be with them anyway. Bye. See ya! Win, win.
So girls, my consensus is that next time a boy hurts you - tell him. Mope around about it, bitch about it, cry about or blog about it all you want, but get to the root of the problem. Because I guarantee you, if you've always been there for the person you love, at some point they'll realise and regret the mistakes they made. And then the satisfaction is all yours.
Saturday 14 July 2012
Sunday 1 July 2012
Goodbye Student Discount.
I'd actually forgotten I have a blog - I'm sure most of you lot had too. Unfortunately neglecting this old thing has been a consequence of working for Housing Scotland Magazine, The Scottish Sun and gaining a 2:1 degree in Journalism, and I've carried the guilt with me every day since November. However, never fear - I'm back!
The reason I'm writing this is because I feel I need an appropriate channel to voice how I've been feeling over the past few days. Graduation was on Wednesday; it was a hot, sweaty stressful affair. I have been blessed with extraordinarily sweaty hands , both of which decided to pick graduation day as the best time to help with the drought in Africa. My feet joined in with the cause too which resulted in them trying to burst through the holes in my peep toe shoes presumably in order to help start building a well - I'm resigned to the fact that I will never be sexy.
Although it was lovely to see my friends and foes gain their degrees, Graduation Ball was for me the highlight of my university career. Everyone looked beautiful, everyone had a fantastic time and I learned a valuable lesson; if you Ceilidh dance with someone as enthusiastic as my good friend Graeme, the result will be a bruised arm.
Whilst Graeme's enthusiasm was extremely admirable, I obviously felt that my dancing ability was of a much higher caliber - I've been reliably informed I was mincing around for part of the night stating "They call me Cha-Cha because I'm the best dancer at St. Bernadettes". I can't dance. I went to Firrhill High School. And the only nickname I came away with after 4 years hard graft was Racky Balboa.
For me, Grad Ball was also a chance to clear the air in some respects and I think everyone I truly care about now knows that even if it wasn't clear before. After everything I've been through with some of the people I've met over the years, it was the easiest thing in the world to say how I felt. A lot easier than I thought actually. Sometimes it's necessary for your own sanity and happiness to put differences aside.
So why am I babbling on about all of this? Simply because it is the end of a phenomenon. Stirling University gave me the best four years of my life, and regardless of ups and downs I've gained an education and a few hard lessons from the School of Life. Nothing lasts for ever, so you should enjoy whatever makes you happy whilst you still can. That's why I've invested a large sum of money in wine.
This is all getting a bit heavy in terms of what I usually post so I'll end on a high; my best boy friend got engaged at graduation and has been buzzing ever since. I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate Ross Chapman and his fiance Sandi and I wish them every happiness. The very thought of marriage makes me hyperventilate but then again I feel that if I find someone willing to put up with me I really should make them make an honest woman of me.
I promise this post will be a one off and I can't wait to post my inane ramblings more consistently. However just this once it's an emotional one, and I hope all of my friends from Stirling University get everything they ever dreamed of. Next time I'll talk about boys and that ken?
The reason I'm writing this is because I feel I need an appropriate channel to voice how I've been feeling over the past few days. Graduation was on Wednesday; it was a hot, sweaty stressful affair. I have been blessed with extraordinarily sweaty hands , both of which decided to pick graduation day as the best time to help with the drought in Africa. My feet joined in with the cause too which resulted in them trying to burst through the holes in my peep toe shoes presumably in order to help start building a well - I'm resigned to the fact that I will never be sexy.
Although it was lovely to see my friends and foes gain their degrees, Graduation Ball was for me the highlight of my university career. Everyone looked beautiful, everyone had a fantastic time and I learned a valuable lesson; if you Ceilidh dance with someone as enthusiastic as my good friend Graeme, the result will be a bruised arm.
Whilst Graeme's enthusiasm was extremely admirable, I obviously felt that my dancing ability was of a much higher caliber - I've been reliably informed I was mincing around for part of the night stating "They call me Cha-Cha because I'm the best dancer at St. Bernadettes". I can't dance. I went to Firrhill High School. And the only nickname I came away with after 4 years hard graft was Racky Balboa.
For me, Grad Ball was also a chance to clear the air in some respects and I think everyone I truly care about now knows that even if it wasn't clear before. After everything I've been through with some of the people I've met over the years, it was the easiest thing in the world to say how I felt. A lot easier than I thought actually. Sometimes it's necessary for your own sanity and happiness to put differences aside.
So why am I babbling on about all of this? Simply because it is the end of a phenomenon. Stirling University gave me the best four years of my life, and regardless of ups and downs I've gained an education and a few hard lessons from the School of Life. Nothing lasts for ever, so you should enjoy whatever makes you happy whilst you still can. That's why I've invested a large sum of money in wine.
This is all getting a bit heavy in terms of what I usually post so I'll end on a high; my best boy friend got engaged at graduation and has been buzzing ever since. I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate Ross Chapman and his fiance Sandi and I wish them every happiness. The very thought of marriage makes me hyperventilate but then again I feel that if I find someone willing to put up with me I really should make them make an honest woman of me.
I promise this post will be a one off and I can't wait to post my inane ramblings more consistently. However just this once it's an emotional one, and I hope all of my friends from Stirling University get everything they ever dreamed of. Next time I'll talk about boys and that ken?
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