Three’s A Charm

Well folks, today is a bit of a special occasion. The Escapologist’s Daughter is three years old today.

Three years ago, I sat at my computer and typed out my biggest secret for the whole world to see: that I had no idea who I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to be doing. The past three years have been a fantastic and often frustrating adventure as I continue to find that out.

In the past three years, I have done things I never thought possible. I have stood up against injustice. I have had my arse featured in the Daily Mail and lived to tell the tale. I have written a book. I have watched my little voice grow from a whisper into a roar.

Now, a lot of the time, I’m still not totally sure what I’m roaring about. It’s a learning process, you guys. And inevitably, that sometimes means that I roar something only to come back five hours later and roar “I AM SORRY ABOUT THAT. I WAS HUNGRY AND CONFUSED.” like the Honey Monster. I’m still not entirely sure who I’m supposed to be. But I’m sure that what I’m supposed to be doing is telling stories.

I guess I’ve always been telling stories. As a kid, this manifested in scribbled pamphlets all over the house, long suffering parents watching another four hour play and the occasional whopper of a lie. I once fell in the swimming baths and cut an enormous great gash in my back. I told my entire class that I had been caught up in a car explosion. I was the most talked about person in the school for weeks. Everyone was so impressed.

I have gotten distracted. That tends to happen. But if you’ve been around this long, I’m sure you’ve noticed that.

What I’m trying to say is that I never stopped telling stories. This entire blog is a story. This is my story. My life is virtually unrecognisable to what it was three years ago and that is largely because of this little blog. This blog has made me brave, given me the courage to do things and ask for things I never would have dreamed of before. You, every one of you, have made me brave. I hope that whatever my future holds, I can continue to tell you stories. And I hope that sometimes, those stories feel like a hand taking yours. Because my darling, you are not alone. If you don’t know who you are, you are not alone. If you feel like everyone else is doing better than you, you are not alone. If you are wondering when adulthood hits and everything sorts itself out, you are not alone. This blog has seen some of my absolute lows as well as many of my absolute highs. I created it to chart the stories and the scars as much as to flaunt the pretty things. This life is a funny old mixed bag. It really is. But I promise you, you can do it. You just need to figure out your story.

Thank you for hanging out with me, for seeing yourselves in me, for letting me be a part of your life. The thought of someone reading these words standing at their kitchen counter with a glass of wine, in bed on a Sunday morning, on a rainy commute…that’s what it’s all about. There really isn’t anything better than that. Thank you for being a part of my story and for letting me be a part of yours. I love you to the moon and back.

 

 

We Came. We Marched. Now What?

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to be a part of something momentous.

womens march london

All over the world, in all seven continents (yes, even Antarctica), people of all genders came together to march against the rise of oppression and fascism epitomised by Donald Trump’s ascent to power.

Millions of people took to the streets, waving placards splashed with hopeful, hilarious messages and the key message was this: we’re not going to let the bastards get away with this.

It was an amazing thing to be a part of and everyone I know who attended has been quite rightly riding a wave of feminist euphoria since. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more feminist than passing a flowery hip flask of rum around a group of freezing women clutching sweary placards.

It was an amazing, inspiring day and no one can ever take that from us. But. If we are really not going to let the bastards away with all of their nonsense, the march has to be a beginning, a jumping off point, not an ending. We have not yet “done our bit”. If we’re serious about stopping this massive, terrifying threat, we need to commit to fighting every day.

For a lot of people, this march was the first time that they had been involved in a protest. If that’s you – welcome! Come on in, we have felt pens and rum. I hope that the march left you feeling all fired up and ready for battle. We’re going to need you to keep that fire burning. If that all sounds good but you’re not sure where to start, here are a few ways you can resist every day:

  1. Give money to the people who need it. Homelessness is an epidemic in the UK. Hate crime is on the up. Domestic violence services, LGBTQIA+ support services, food banks, shelters, refuges and our welfare system are being absolutely gutted by our government. Cut out your morning coffee just once a week and set up a standing order for £10 a month to a charity providing much needed support.
  2. Volunteer! As much as cash, these vital services need bodies on the ground. Whether it’s serving food at a homeless shelter, manning the tills at a charity shop or teaching English to refugees, I bet you have some skills you could share around.
  3. Teach. If you don’t fancy volunteering at a support service, why not volunteer at your local girl guide group? If we’re really hoping to bring about lasting, meaningful change, we need to empower the kids coming up behind us. Teach them well and let them lead the way and all that.
  4. Join a local protest group. Sisters Uncut are a brilliant, intersectional direct action group and if you’re UK based, they probably have a group near you. If not, they have instructions on how to set up your own group on their website.
  5. Sort of an addendum to number 4, but don’t just show up when things affect you directly. Feminism as a movement has been built on the backs of women of colour, LGBTQIA+ women, disabled women, refugee women, poor women, fat women, sex workers. Women belonging to these groups have been experiencing the sort of oppression and violence that we now fear for their entire lives. If we had listened to these women to begin with, maybe we could have halted this whole fascist movement earlier. This isn’t intended as a rebuke, just as a little something to remember. Go to a Black Lives Matter march. Write to your MP about detention centres. Send welcome packages to refugees. If each of us is only looking out for ourself, we’re never going to get out of this damn mess.
  6. A tangent from the addendum in number 5: listen to the experiences of those who are different from you. And when I say “listen”, I mean really listen. Don’t wade into conversations and talk over oppressed people to show off how clever and feminist you are, or look for reassurance about how great an ally you are. Twitter is a frankly unbelievable resource if you’re willing to acknowledge your privilege and listen. And look, I know it’s hard to be called out on your privilege. I’m a skinny, straight, white, cis girl. I say stupid stuff all the time and when I get called on it, it’s tempting to throw a huff and write a long, meandering blog post about how my intentions were good. But your intentions don’t matter if your actions are hurting people. Instead of doing that, I sulk for a minute, then take a deep breath and suck it up. Because accepting that you are wrong and learning to listen to the people who are traditionally silenced is how we move forward. If people are taking time out of their day to give you a free education, don’t throw it back in their face. Listen, listen, listen.
  7. Once you have listened and you’ve started to learn stuff, apply that knowledge. Challenge prejudice and microaggressions wherever you see them. If, like me, you have lots of privilege, odds are you have the choice to let shitty attitudes and comments slide because they’re not directly hurtful to you. Choose differently. This is a fight that will be won or lost over a dining room table, over whether you’re willing to pick your little brother up when he makes a racist joke.
  8. Okay, we’re back from the addenda and tangents. Campaign for abortion access, sexual healthcare access and better sex education. After the US election, a lot of people, myself included, made donations to Planned Parenthood in new VP Mike Pence’s name. This was worthwhile and also hilarious. But this fight is equally important much closer to home. People in Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland  do not have access to safe, legal abortions. Lend your voice to their cause. Sign up for the FPA’s newsletter. Find a local Repeal the 8th meeting.
  9. Drop off a load of sanitary products at your local homeless shelter or food bank. Getting your period is bad enough as is, imagine having to go without sanitary products.
  10. Stick a big box in your office and ask people to bring in donations for your local food bank. Keep an eye out for 3 for 2 or BOGOF deals in the supermarket: pick up extras and donate them! (Remember: people who rely on food banks often won’t have access to fridges, freezers or cookers. Focus on things that can be made without these)
  11. Get informed. I know that the news is horrendous and it’s completely fine to take breaks and look after yourself when it gets too much. But if we want to win, we need to know what we’re fighting against.
  12. Write to your MP! Your MP will have an email address and a Twitter account. Get in their face and demand that they represent you.
  13. Vote. Please, for the love of god, vote.
  14. Keep going. There are hard, hard times ahead. Things are likely to get worse before they get better. Take a break, get yourself together and keep on keeping on. Giving up is an act of privilege. There are people whose very survival depends on them continuing to fight. They don’t have the luxury of deciding that it’s too hard. We will not abandon them. We will stand with them. Keep going, loves, keep going.

Well, this turned into a bit of a monstrous post. Apologies if that was a bit overwhelming. Of course, you don’t need to do all of these things (except the listening and challenging prejudice. You really do need to do those ones). If you try to take on everything, you’re going to burn out. We need you strong, so make sure you’re feeding your soul as well as your anger. Switch off the news and take a bath. Hang out with the people who love you. Watch a video of that Nazi guy getting punched in the face (No, violence isn’t normally my bag but if we can cheer John Smeaton for kicking a terrorist in the balls, you bet your ass I’m going to cheer a literal Nazi getting punched in the face. I’m an Indiana Jones fan, after all.) Pick a few actions, do them consistently, do them well. In fifty years time, your grandkids will be asking you what you were up to during this strange, tumultuous time in our history. Make sure you’ve got a good story for them. Courage, my darlings, courage. We’re on the right side of history.

womens march placards

25 at 25

As I may have mentioned just once or twice, I turned 25 at the turn of the New Year. It’s an odd sort of age. You move up an age category, into the 25 and overs, so everyone younger than you thinks you’re completely ancient, while everyone older claws at your face in empty horror and yells about how you’re still just a teeny tiny little baby. Regardless of whether you think I’m utterly over the hill or basically a jumped up toddler (both true, if I’m being totally honest), I’ve now been on the earth for a quarter of a century. And during that time, I like to think I’ve learned a couple of things.

People who are older and wiser than me, feel free to turn away now. Everyone else, here are 25 extremely important things I’ve learned in my 25 years.

  1. Girls are brilliant. Seriously, really brilliant. I spent a long, long time as one of those girls who was only friends with boys because there was, like, so much less drama. Now that I have a girl gang, I literally don’t know how I got by without them. Turns out, boys are just as dramatic as girls. It’s just that girls are socialised to see each other as competition. Bust that cycle. Lift each other up. Who runs the world? Girls.
  2. Don’t use those spot pad things on your face. Your skin will never forgive you, even if you spend ten years treating it like a god damn princess.
  3. Everything you are wearing and doing right now is going to make you cringe in ten years, especially the stuff that you think is super cool, so wear what you want. Those folks laughing at you will be cringing just as hard as you in 2027.
  4. It’s important to know when you’re standing up for yourself and when you’re picking a fight just to be a dick. I will deny this vehemently if confronted but about 80% of the arguments I start are entirely me being a needless dick because I’m in a bad mood/have hurt feelings about a totally different issue/am tired/hungry/cold. Learning to swallow that impulse to lash out has made every single relationship in my life better.
  5. Most things can be made better with a kitchen danceathon, a long bath, a cup of tea, some Sudocrem or a really good red lipstick.
  6. The best, scariest things in your life often take only ten seconds of mad, terrifying courage. Take a deep breath, summon your courage and do the thing.
  7. Food has no moral value. Eating only green things is not a substitute for a personality. Nor is always being game to finish a packet of biscuits. Cake is not naughty. It’s a basic human right.
  8. Sleeping naked on clean sheets is the second best thing you can do in a bed.
  9. Don’t save your best things. You deserve them now. Use them now.
  10. Say “I love you” when it’s true. Say it often.
  11. Sometimes “self care” means planting yourself in a squishy chair and bingeing 8 hours of TV. Sometimes it means getting off your arse and doing your damn dishes. Be honest with yourself about what you really need.
  12. If the dress is pinching a little at 7am, you’ll be dying in it by noon. See also: shoes that hurt just a little when you put them on.
  13. The best love is about warmth just as much as it is about heat. There is nothing more underrated on this green earth than someone who makes you feel safe, someone who makes you feel cherished.
  14. You will never regret taking that photo. Even if you think your hair is a mess, even if you’ve worried people will think you’re a bore or laugh at you posing. You’ll never regret having it.
  15. Conversely, THERE IS NO REASON TO VIDEO GIGS ON YOUR PHONE. Your video will be dreadful and your tiny, grainy screen is in the way of everyone trying to actually see the stage.
  16. Having savings is a really good idea.
  17. Never apologise for taking joy in things. Disney movies, corny pop music, obscure metal bands, foreign literature…surround yourself with things that lift your soul.
  18. Taking a really long walk is the best way to get to know someone.
  19. Having travel plans go horribly awry is also a good way to get to know someone, but in a less awesome way.
  20. Asking for help almost always goes better than you think it will.
  21. People have the boundless ability to surprise you, sometimes with their cruelty but more often, with their kindness.
  22. Time taken to hang out with people you love, read books, cuddle animals or stare at large bodies of water is not ever wasted time.
  23. Don’t let this big, weird world turn you hard and cold. Cynicism is just a way for people to pretend that they’re clever, without actually putting in the work to be clever. Stay soft, stay kind. If anyone gives you shit for this, set them on fire.*
  24. It’s okay to have no idea what you want.
  25. It’s okay to change your mind.

*Please do not set anyone on fire.

The New Year

And that’s it over. The champagne has been drunk, the kisses exchanged, the confetti swept up. The new year is upon us and it’s fat and glorious with possibility.

I wrote last new year about why I think new year’s resolutions should be about becoming, rather than changing. A fresh start should be something exciting, a time to be celebrated, not something to beat yourself over the head with. I promise, no matter how much growing you have to do, you did fine last year. You did great, in fact.

When I sit down to write my goals for new year, I try to think about what parts of me I want to make bigger, rather than the parts I want to make smaller.

This year, I’m going to take scalding hot showers, even though they’re bad for my skin, because they make me feel alive. I’m going to read dusty old classics and trashy crime novels and appreciate that both of them feed my soul in different ways.

I’m going to wear lipstick in a wild rainbow of colours and learn to walk in those shoes that make me look a million dollars. I’m not going to go running, because I hate it. I’m going to stretch because I want to take care of my body, not because I want to change it. I’m going to dance in my living room until my heart pounds.

I’m going to eat my vegetables and I’m going to have seconds of pudding because both of those things are nourishing if you allow them to be. I’m going to bake outrageous cakes, even if the boy and I are the only ones who ever see them. I’m going to stop splurging on makeup only to scrimp on skincare. Goddammit, I’m going to moisturise.

I’m going to call home more and take more photographs. I’m going to laugh louder and sing when I cook. I’m going to seek out adventure, whether that’s halfway across the world or in the park at the end of my road. I’m going to pet more dogs. I’m going to climb more trees and take picnics and go paddling in the sea. I’m going to practise my German until the rust falls off.

I’m going to wear pretty dresses and slouchy jumpers and flirt with my boyfriend and kiss as much as I can. I’m going to think more and smile more. I’m going to be grateful. I’m going to be brave. I’m going to get involved in my community and speak up against the things I think are wrong. I’m going to write write write.

Whatever you choose to do with your 2017, I hope it is spectacular. I hope that your year is filled with love and laughter that makes your sides hurt. I hope you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and think, hey there, awesome. I hope you have the courage to be the most yourself that you can possibly be. Happy new year, darlings. Happy, happy new year.