jealousy

From Adult To Adult

“Ouch”. I moan, as my kitten’s perfectly refined claws retract out of my calves. He senses the tension between us and as an act of avoiding responsibility, performs a jump and sprint through the flat. All the while, I’m bent over falling bum first into my hallway wall, trying frantically to put my shoes on and tie my laces in a manner, I am sure is exclusive to the anxious and clumsy. As always I am late, which means I must perform the ritual of all my morning rituals. Check I have my keys, check again, run across the road and through the traffic lights, hold down my flying lanyard, wipe my watery eyes from the wind, keep the contents of my bag safe as I check that I have my card (and my keys). I try and hide my shame and my wind tears, as I sprint awkwardly to the station, past all my neighbours and takeaway providers.

They know, I will tell myself, that even as a fully grown 20 year old women, I still fucking hate mornings.

Growing up, I was never under the assumption that life was going to be an easy ride. As a child, I was constantly observing and going through the struggles of life, only from a younger perspective. Though I may not have been physically dealing with things like an adult would, emotionally I was. I became a worrier, a title that had rudely gatecrashed my life.

I didn’t know what I was expecting of adulthood, I don’t think anyone does. All I had to base it on was from watching my mother bring me and my sister up. From that, I guess I had already learned that life was unexpected, mean and incredibly unfair. It was full of mishaps and responsibilities and yet, it taught me an important lesson. I learned that opportunity is only an opportunity if you see it as one. As a teenager, I took this idea on aggressively, because I wanted nothing more than stability. I wanted what everyone else ‘had’.

This attitude was clearly one of the reasons people perceived me as odd during school. I was mocked for wanting to better my life. Mocked for wanting to get a flat instead of go to halls, laughed at for having a savings account. Posters about me and my ex stuck on walls for this that and everything else. It was ignorance on their part, for not being able to accept me as the person I was, and ignorance on my part for not being able to accept the fact that nothing I did would make them value me as their peer. I felt wrong, rejected, a people pleaser who was unable to please. A troubling time for me as far as troubling times can go. But I wasn’t different, just misunderstood.

I may not of expected too much from growing up, but naively, after school I had hoped it would get better. I was convinced that if I made a life for myself, if I set the foundations, surely the rest would follow. All this steamed from a difficult financial upbringing, I really just wanted the chance to feel what every other child, teenager or adult was apparently feeling. Stability, financial support, a home to run to when things got too hard. I didn’t have this option, I knew when I moved out that I will never have that option. So Instead I grew up with the understanding that I had to be extremely cautious in life. When I was younger I would constantly wish I had money, then when I got older, any money that I made I kept a hold of.  …Just in case something happens…  I would tell myself. I was so used to mishaps that it became an obsession. Security was all I wanted in the end right? Even when I moved out, I was repeatedly turning down, doing fun things with friends because I just had to save for bills. I knew I would be like this, at least I was prepared for that, even if they weren’t.

Security. The word glided through my nerves and slipped into my mind. It wasn’t a threat, only a mild sedative. I was simply programmed into this way of life now. I had to support the pressure and responsibilities I had created and I wasn’t willing to give any of it up. But the pressure became my host. In a panic I let myself believe that I wasn’t lost. Just more focused, more willing to do what I could, to build my life up to the pedestal I had set long, long ago. The word fun became a disease, I worked hard and I saved. There was nothing more to it. I had a goal, I would get that stability that I was so clearly deprived of.

But I felt overwhelmed, cornered with no where to turn. I soon understood that this obsession was unhealthy. Had society turned me into a monster, or had I? I finally understood that I was depressed, and instead of dealing with this issue, I had created a persona. I wanted to fit in so badly, be valued and recognised as an adult, that I became a different person, with a warped view on adulthood.  I managed to go years without really living, Instead I was a bystander in my own life. A faded shadow.

The moment everything began to change wasn’t sudden, it was a gradual process, a couple of confusing months, a couple of secret’s let slip, a lot of me began to change. I didn’t want to be the pressured idea that I had created, I wanted to be able to enjoy myself and see my friends and start living my life. I wanted to be me.

One thing I have learned is that the pressure you feel is your own, most of the time. Something my partner has taught me is that you can take control of what you can control, but you need to let go of what you can’t. And being able to adjust to that attitude has been a breakthrough in my own growth. Being able to finally find joy in things and spend money on myself (responsibly) is a blessing, and something I never thought I could ever feel without fear of judgement.  Still, I wont deny the fact that adulthood is tough, feeling overwhelmed and having no over option than to deal with it is a way of life as an adult.  But I have found a healthy way to deal with it. (Except mornings, that shit will never get old).

It’s funny that we allow ourselves to be told by society what is right and what is wrong, there is no leeway. It’s basically ‘Here’s the guide book, follow it or be deemed socially different’. In a nutshell, I tried and I failed and then I thought to myself. After years of trying to fit in, all the pressure from caring too much of what other people thought. I am so done with it. Because that’s the beauty of adulthood, at the end of the day, it is your life.  Unless you let them, no one can do or say anything that is going to stop your emotional growth. You make your own mistakes, and you decide if you are going to take it as an opportunity to grow. You eventually learn that you can rise above it all. You can rise above depression, you can rise above hardships and you can most certainly rise above yourself. And in the end, I did that. In the end, I allowed myself to have a happy life.

 

And I love my life…for the most part. 😉

 

Kyra xo

 

 

3 reasons why girls are mean

Ok, let’s be honest here, it’s no secret. Us girl’s, we are insane. Our mood’s change faster than Usian Bolt. We cry over almost everything, and then we nag and piss off everyone when we are finished crying. We are a complex puzzle, we are that pair of headphones in your pocket that have tied themselves together, we are that scene in the 4th Harry Potter where harry’s in a maze and he’s searching for the Triwizard Cup (us) and the maze keeps changing and pushes him further away from the cup. Honestly, we are frustrating as hell. So, before I go into it any further, I sincerely apologise on behalf of all females.

So why is it that girl’s act this way?

We are insecure about ourselves

Firstly, we like to pretend we are at one with ourselves whilst we pile on layers upon layers of make-up and cry at our reflection. I’m not saying we are always this insecure, because we are not. There are days when we wake up, look in the mirror and actually like what we see and then walk about feeling fantastic for the rest of the day. But then you get those days where you wake up and you are covered in spots, that you know deep down make-up isn’t going to cover, so you spend the whole day with your head down in shame, avoiding any form of communication. Because it’s those days where we feel at our worst. We feel ugly, our confidence shatters and we become negative and hate ourselves. So if a girl is ever being nasty to another girl for no particular reason, it’s because she’s jealous that this girl is comfortable in her own skin and you aren’t. We all have days where we just feel like utter shite (boys included) and unfortunately it can project out in our mood – Sorry!

We are sexually frustrated

I don’t know why it’s completely ok for guys to be sexually frustrated and be all open about it and people say shit like ‘I’m going on the pull tonight lads.’ but as soon as a girl mentions she needs the D (or the V depending on what gender you’re into) Everyone is like woah! PIPE DOWN No one needs to know about that jeeze. Um, hello? I’m sorry to inform you world but women have certain desires and needs. Did you not ever stop to consider why so many women purchased 50 Shades of grey? Why when you get to a certain age, the word rabbit has a different meaning. We like sex, we think about sex and we want sex just as much as men. Obviously it depends on how high your sex drive is, but most women can last about a week before they feel themselves getting agitated.This is because sex is a reliever, it relaxes us, it makes us feel good and we get to have orgasms.(which is always a happy ending.) So if your girlfriend or wife is nagging at you just take off her trousers and shut her up, trust me she’ll thank you later.

We fancy you

Now I’m sure you won’t believe me when I tell you this but sometimes when a girl is mean to you, she does actually like you. It’s a juvenile approach some girls take to try and attract the attention of a male, in hope that they notice them. We sometimes believe playing hard to get, even if you aren’t even chasing us is a good idea. Cause y’know women logic. And it can only go down two ways:

  • The guy thinks we are an utter bitch, avoiding us and warning every other hot male friend about us and our devlish ways.
  • The guy doesn’t understand why we are being so mean and tries to find the reason behind your odd behaviour i.e. Takes an interest and tries to stop you hating him, but you may find yourself friendzoned.

So, let’s conclude. Playing games is pointless. They get you nowhere and you just end up confused so don’t even bother. Now when I say being mean, it’s not like emotionally torturing them or anything. I mean when we push you about a little, say a few nasty words but in a jokey sort of way, bitch about you and at you. Really, we probably just want to have sex with you and we are sexually frustrated (see above) and you are frustrating us so we retaliate with our fantastic ‘failproof’ women logic by being a bitch. Let’s just stop all this pretend hatred and just have sex.