Hello there. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve all had a good Christmas and a very happy New Year, however you celebrated – or didn’t.
You may have noticed that my monthly ‘series’ – Moments – has been absent for the last couple of months. I’ve had to take a bit of a step back from blogging, due to being too overwhelmed. With work, with uni, mental health… oh, and not to mention that my bowels exploded in early December (slightly melodramatic, but go with it). I thought it would be slightly amiss to not do a post rounding up my year, as is customary to do around this time.
I had a read of my New Year post from last year, and it was a little… sad. Very melancholic. And it made me all the more sad that my mental health hasn’t really improved over the last 12 months. I didn’t set myself any goals or resolutions, per se, but reading that post did leave me feeling a little downtrodden that 2017 didn’t turn out as well as I’d have liked.
A few weeks ago (yes, this post is very late) I attended the very delightful 23 Paul Street for yet another evening of Scarlet magic. After being so kindly invited to their Blogger Social back in October, I immediately knew which official Scarlet Ladies event I wanted to drop in on first.
I remember the first time I walked up Paul Street in London, thinking ‘is everyone going to know that I’m about to walk into a gentlemen’s club?’ This time was no different. As rad as a place 23 is, it still felt incredibly risqué to be approaching the infamous house of tease, even if my intentions were innocent. Still, I was very excited to be swallowed up by the gorgeous interiors, and hearing some equally gorgeous women speak about very important matters.
In a sea of brilliant, talented, witty, funny women, I was drowning.
In my eyes, everyone had something that made them unique, and I had nothing.
I tried to emulate the styles of my social media crushes, to no avail. That style was reserved, already being done, hence why mine felt like a watered down version. Better to be a first-rate version on yourself than a second-rate version of someone else, and all that.
I have been so fixated on others and their uniqueness, that mine wasn’t shining through. Or it was, but I didn’t deem it good enough.
I actually had a different post scheduled for today, the second part of my short story Strangers, however I had something on my mind that I needed to get down. Part two of Strangers will be coming next week, so just bear with me in the meantime.
I went to Sheffield this weekend to see some friends put on some plays and short sketches in Thestival, a three-day theatre festival. Thesitval was the brainchild of my friends Vicky and Michael when we were all part of the drama society way back when, and it is so great to see it still living on all of these years later, with different people putting their own spin on it. I guess with a lot of drama societies at university, people tend to put on more widely known plays and musicals most of the time, so it’s great that Thesitval encourages people to put on lesser known plays and sketches, and even submit originally written stuff, to really show the potential from the future stars of tomorrow.
It made me think about my own potential.
So, it’s been a while.
One thing that I find super annoying is when bloggers, youtubers or general internetpersons haven’t posted on their chosen medium for a while, and then when they do, take up a hot minute to explain why they have been absent for so long. “Omigod, you guys, I have just been soooo busy!”
Well, I’mma do the thing I hate, but with a twist.