Never be anything other than who you want to be

Who are you to judge how much of someone’s body that they decide to show? Who are you to decide whether that person is then a ‘slut’? 

I know so many people who look amazing and beautiful in their photos but are too scared to post them because they’re worried that people will judge them.

For an all inclusive society, we’re sure doing a lot of judging.

People can post what they like, as they like. It does not then make them promiscuous or inappropriate. Yes, I get it when a photo is indecent exposure. Yes, I get it when that someone who is very young is posing in an inappropriate manner, the parents have the right to ask them to take it down.

But I think, after the amount of terrifying prep school movies we were made to watch about cyberstalkers, we get how to private our accounts and we understand that what is put on the internet stays there,

So who are you to judge?

My friend and I were talking about it, and she said, ‘if a guy posts a topless pic, no one cares. The second a girl does it it’s all this drama’ and she is so right. This isn’t a rant about feminism, no that’s coming later. The point is,

People should be allowed to post what they’d like without the worry of being judged.

People should be allowed to dress as they’d like without assumptions.

People should be allowed to be who they are on their own social media page.

the photo attached, well can you really disagree? People shouldn’t be judged or have assumptions made on how they dress. Or what they post of how they dress. People shouldn’t be afraid of being exactly who they want to be. I know there have been countless occasions where I’ve got a friend asking whether they should post a photo because they’re scared of being judged or people thinking that they’re a slut. In fact, just tonight (the night I’m writing this, not the night I’m posting it) I had a panicked text from one of the least ‘slutty’ people I know, word for word, saying ‘do I need to delete my last pic on insta because there were some people like ‘wow’ and judging me, should I delete it? xxx’

To finish today’s blog I’ll write my exact reply, ‘no, no, no. you look so good and if you like the photo there is no reason to take it down. People are always going to judge, but you need to remember that no matter what anyone else may say, you need to do what you want to’

Love, Hea xx

You shouldn’t be made to feel weak for feeling  

I’m not going to give you any of that, ‘toxic masculinity’ spew which you’ve heard one too many times. Nor am I going to try and get through to people who won’t either read this or even care. But I was having deep conversation with a boy who’s been through something awful and he kept on apologising and apologising and when I finally asked him why he was sorry he says, ‘because I’m being such a pussy’.

I’m talking to another boy about some deep and heavy topics and what he’s going through and he says, ‘I don’t talk about this stuff much, it makes me feel weak.’ Intrigued by this link, of talking about feelings equating to weakness, I ask a guy whether he feels like he can show his emotions or hurt to the people of the same gender and he said, ‘not unless I was to be called a fag.’

When you’re upset about something, big or small, about family or friends or foe or anything in-between, surely you’d want to be able to talk about it? To be able to show you’re upset? You’d want to know you have friends, well, not even friend, but an environment where you feel like it’s okay to? 

Plenty of people reading this, and yes I am planning on sending this to people in particular who I think would benefit from reading this, will be thinking ‘but it’s such a ‘gay’ thing to do to cry’ or ‘it makes them a ‘pussy’’ or just be thinking that it makes a guy weak to cry,

But why?

Put aside what ‘you think a guy should be’. Put aside what your parents do or what your friends do,

Why shouldn’t boys be allowed to cry?

They’re allowed to laugh without being mocked, right? Allowed to smile? Allowed to joke around? Well then, why shouldn’t they be allowed to cry or be upset or talk about something deeper or more intellectual than last nights’ football game?

So this is a plea to all. If you’re a girl, then don’t laugh at or seem surprised or even make jokes because a guy cried.

And to guys?

Be the friend you’d need when you’re upset. Don’t think it’s ‘cool’ or ‘hot’ not to show your emotions. Don’t thinking that feeling is a sign of weakness,

When in reality it’s just strength,

Love, Hea xx

don’t just look- see

“What do you see?,” I ask him, my eyes transfixed on the swirling mass of white fluff dappling the too blue, true blue, sky,

Spiralling, it begins as a dolphin, swimming in the sea of the sky, the above above our world, and turns into

A mermaid singing songs to the sailors ships, siren-like in her appeal and song, her powers of persuasion but changes into

A bird. Right at home among his own, soaring above cities, swooping and flying and riding the breeze like a wave, and for him, just living and now becoming

A girl. A sweet little girl. A sweet kind innocent little girl, unexposed to the big bad world, so simply being, laughing, singing- simply simple, but she grows up into

A bottle. What of? If only she’d know. Something bad for your health, your liver, and even worse for your judgement, something pouring into the blue, flooding it,

And the man beside me peels his eyes from his LED lights,

Glances impassively at the sky,

Glances impassively at me and says,

‘A cloud’-

And falls back into the world of a phone,

While forgetting his own.

Love, Hea xx

You get to live

Sometimes I feel like shit. Sometimes I’m elated and over the moon. Sometimes I just want the ground to swallow me whole. Sometimes I feel like nothing could bring me down. Sometimes I’m an irrational,, illogical mess. Sometimes everything makes all the sense it’s supposed to.

But always, always, I’m lucky.

For the simple fact that I can feel.

Numbness. When you sit and your blood flow is stopped and you get pins and needles, after a while your foot’s almost numb. And it’s quite cool and funny to feel, 

But then you dread that painful flood of blood back through. That sharp aching pain,

Because the longer you stop feeling, the faster, when you let go, it’ll all flood back.

Maybe when I’m down it feels like the end of the world. Maybe when I’m up it feels like the start. 

But the key word there?

feels. 

We get to feel.

We get to know what it’s like for the sun to soak into our pores, seep into our skin. We get to know what it feels like to be with a friend and laugh and laugh until tears roll down your face, both clutching your stomach from tensing. We get to know those moments where adrenaline takes over from blood through your bloodstream.

But you also get to know what it feels like to hate everything, yourself, your life, your feelings. You also get to know how scary your mind and brain can be. You also get to

live.

You get to live.

You get to understand which feeling’s which and why and when someone says ‘happy’ you know what comes to mind,

And what does come to mind? Quick, whatever you’re reading this on, leave and go to notes. Write down the top three things that make you happy, maybe write about them and how they feel. That’s your homework,

The point of it is, I suppose, that every bad emotion is linked to a good emotion, that every high comes with a low, that every action has an equal and opposite reaction,

So maybe those three things will have three sad things nest to them, but the point is you can choose the read the left or the right,

Because the rest is up to you

Love, Hea xx

I’m every part of you that you seem to have forgot

I’m the twinkle in your eye when you can’t quite sleep,

I’m the lengths that you’d go to, to make all ends meet,

I’m the croak in your voice when you hazily wake,

I’m the laughter that creeps out while reliving your mistake,

I’m the rise of the sides of your lips you can’t stop,

I’m every part of you that you seem to have forgot.

 

I’m the catch in your throat while you’re fighting back tears,

I’m the rise of your pulse when you’re facing your fears,

I’m the feeling of the hug that you desperately need,

I’m the loud, open laughter, when you’re finally freed.

I’m the moment when you’re flying, so on top,

I’m every part of you that you seem to have forgot.

 

I’m the inside joke you smile at years from now,

I’m the pride you feel as you take your final bow,

I’m the sun seeping, soaking deep into your skin,

I’m the elation running through your veins when you win,

I’m the secret parts of you that you hide, old or new,

I’m real, I matter, I feel, I’m here- I’m you.

Love Hea xxx

What mask do you wear?

Take off the mask you hide behind. That face you wear outside. Take it off and look in the mirror, do you recognise the person you are? When you’re not the person you pretend to be, you want to be, who are you? When you don’t have to be anyone for anyone else, what person would you be? Would you be the sleepless nights? Would you be the tear stained eyes? Would you be the throat tearing sobs?

Or would you be the hidden smiles? Would you be the manic moods? Would you be the laughs at stupid things you see online and are too embarrassed to share?

Would you be strong? Would you be confident? Would you be fearless? Would you be happy?

Or would you be weak? Would you be insecure? Would you be scared? Would you be sad and down?

Well who knows. The version of myself I put out, I think, is caring. It’s honest. It’s reasonably confident. It’s smart.

The reality? I’m terrified, anxious, so insecure with no clue what’s going on most of the time.

But that honest, open, real, vulnerable version of myself, well it’s not the me I want to be. It’s not who or how I hope to stay. So, when I take off my mask, am I the better version of myself because it’s honest, or the worse because I want to be better?

Look at yourself in the mirror. Look at your eyes, your hair, your skin. Do you ever think how crazy it is that that’s who we are? That the face looking back is the one others see? Do you ever wonder how you look when your head swings back in laughter, or when you smile under your hand because you shouldn’t be? Do you ever think about how you look when you look over to your best friend and know you’re thinking the same thing, or when you roll your eyes in frustration?

Because I think that’s who you are behind the mask. I think that we’re the moments that go unobserved, unnoticed at the time, but looking back they’re what you remember. I think whether you’re alone or around people, you’re always in a mask. Different masks for different days, different masks for different people.

I know I seem like an optimist, but I’m a realist. And realistically? People hiding behind masks, it isn’t going to change. It’s how it is. But I think something people struggle with is accepting that maybe, yes, you do change. I think it’s important people accept who they are.

Love, Hea xx

Regret

What do you regret? When you look back at your life so far, regardless how long, regardless how short, when you think about the moments that led you to the moment you’re in now, how many do you regret? That person that broke your heart, that thing you shouldn’t have said, the one that got away, what would you change if you could?

Now, some people reading this will be thinking, I’d change nothing because each awkward conversation, every sleepless night and all the people I’ve known will have shaped me to who I am today, I wouldn’t change it because it’s part of me and who I am now.

The rest of us? I’m thinking about the stupid comments that only escalated petty fights, saying something out of anger that made you cover your mouth in shock, that comment that was a bit too personal, too impolite and you only realised after you saw the distaste clear in their eyes. I’m speaking about walking into the wrong room and going red in the face at all the faces staring up at you, the moment you rolled your eyes and the person you were doing it at saw you. I’m talking about the moments that make you cringe and squirm even now,

You wouldn’t change them if you would?

Now, I’m not here to tell you how to live or what to think, but someone said something to me that really upset me honestly enough, ‘if I don’t do it then I can’t regret it’. And it got me thinking, these phrases, ‘you’ll only regret the things you didn’t do’- well I don’t agree. If you were in a bad place in your life and wanted to do something, you won’t regret not having done it. ‘You only regret the things you do do’- well I don’t agree either. The amount of times my social anxiety or awkwardness got in the way of me asking friends or putting myself out there, well it’s innumerable. The amount of quotes about regret, ‘regret is a form of punishment in itself’, ‘never regret something that made you happy’, ‘I made decisions that I regret and took them as learning experiences’ and on and on and while, to an extent, I agree with them all, in my opinion there’s only one quote about regret which it universally true:

Hindsight’s a bitch.

Thinking what you could’ve done, should’ve done, would do if you could try again, well, I agree, it’s you punishing yourself. Obsessing over the past, what’s happened, what would’ve happened, what could’ve happened, well there’s only one word for it:

Exhausting.

There’s one quote about regret which really hit home was by Yoko Ono, ‘the regret of my life is that I have not said ‘I love you’ often enough’ and here’s the thing about regret: right now, the second you’re reading this, the second you’re living this: you have a choice. You can leave a nice comment (which is much appreciated) and move on with your day, you can think about it or you can right now click off and go text your mum or dad or gran or gramps or brother or sister or friend or even a fifth cousin twice removed and just tell them what they mean to you. Tell them you love them. It’s as simple as that. The small messages, the small changes, that’s what’s gounna reshape the world and what we think.

So this Tuesday’s homework is to tell someone what they mean to you,

Make the world a bit of a brighter place for someone

Love, Hea xx