I went walking around Damflask Reservoir yesterday its one of my favourite places for a wander. I haven’t been for a while but decided to head there – I needed some beautiful views and quiet time. Its a good place for a think; to talk to myself and to Mollie. Yes I have one way conversations with my dog. I’ve even been known to sing to her.
But before I go on I need to share with you what happened at the start of my wanderings .
Im still cringing / chuckling.
I spotted a regal looking cow in the field. I LOVE cows they remind me of my Grandma , especially the ginger and white ones with the big caring eyes. My Grandma had bright ginger hair and kind eyes. After she died for weeks after I would see this ginger cow on my walks . We used to just stand and stare at each other. I probably looked odd and I know it sounds weird but it felt comforting. It helped me heal. Cows hold a special place in my heart. Look deep into a cows eyes and you’ll never eat beef again.
So back to my story … the setting was absolutely beautiful , there was a little ground mist, the farm placed superbly in the background. I climbed up the little stone wall so I could get a better shot and because the cows bum was facing me I decided it would be a good idea to start mooing at it ,you know, so it would turn around … obviously !
So there I am perched on the wall , mooing at this cow . A cow that didn’t chuffing budge. Probably thinking to itself what is that odd pink thing doing? I turned around to check on Mollie and was faced by an elderly couple nervously walking past mad cow lady ! I could have curled up and died.
On my walks my head tends to go off on all tangents but today for whatever reason it settled on and I started to ponder ‘ the advice we were given when we started blogging and my swearing.’
We started the blog 10 years ago [ we were initially called ‘ Indulge in’ and it was the 2 of us – Liz and I ] we would often ask for help / advice. We sometimes didn’t ask for it but were given it anyway.
One thing we were advised on numerous occasions was to never swear on our blog posts – it sounded uncouth. People would turn off.
Basically nobody likes a potty mouth.
I get that , I really do. When I used the words ‘fecking fanny’ on an Instagran post the other week I got several private messages informing me how let down they felt with me . . . I don’t go around bashing old ladies up btw … I said fecking fanny / vagina which last time I looked half the population had. I have spent the last 4 years since my mum died [of Vaginal Cancer] trying to normalise and take the stigma out of our vaginas. It is NOT a dirty word. Ok I’ll give you feck … but not fanny !!
I like to think I’m a reasonable kind of lady, I don’t intentionally like to, or aim to upset anybody. I strived to be liked when I was younger. You may have noticed I’m not so bothered these days . Things have happened, I’ve changed. Like me or lump me.
I took what they said on board. I must add the messages were all lovely , not troll-like. I processed them, politely replied but decided to carry on swearing if it deemed appropriate to the subject because that’s me.
When I say swearing I need to point out it’s feck , occasionally the odd knob head. Nothing more sinister.
Can I also add that my Mum referred to me as her special little knob head. She once rang my work up where I was receptionist and started the conversation ‘ now then knob head ‘ only I didn’t answer the phone. My horrified Manager slammed the phone down on her thinking it was a crank call ! Oh how we laughed about it.
The chances are should we ever meet IRL you can bet your bottom dollar that within 5 minutes of meeting me a … feck / fecking hell / feck that / feck you … will have slipped out of my mouth.
The word feck is second nature to me. I actually picked it up from my ex mother in law . She is lrish, had the best accent. I thought it sounded ‘ twee’ if fuck had a cute sister it would be feck.
Changing yourself to fit a certain criteria determined by somebody else – just isn’t me and it shouldn’t be you either. It’s like filters – why are we all hiding behind them? Are our real faces not good enough because that’s the message I read everytime I see somebody use one. It’s especially damaging to our younger , more vulnerable audience.
I must add – I am no Saint. I use filters occasionally but not so much these days ; basically for my own sanity. I strived for years to achieve perfect skin but acne had other ideas and perfect doesn’t exist. [ Unless you are Bradley Cooper that is – he is pretty perfect! ]
Filter days now are usually the day after I’ve drank my body weight in alcohol because even I can’t face looking at my face. Nobody needs to see it !
I guess the moral of my musings today is please don’t change to fit in. Like I’ve said on numerous occasions , be a proud hexagon in a square world . Be unapologetically, beautifully yourself , what more can people ask of you?
If they still don’t like you, well they don’t know what they are missing . And let’s face it you could be ‘Mother Terressa like’ , save the bees and adopt a rhino … and they still wouldn’t like you !
Not everyone is going to like you and that’s ok.
All I can say is ‘Feck em’