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A beautiful light has gone out


My friend becky, my beautiful, funny, weird friend becky has passed away and how my heart hurts.

She used to read this blog with our friend Emma in the cafe we used to work in together and she used to laugh about the things I would write, I never once thought I’d have to or want to write a blog about my friend, my friend who I only worked with for 6 weeks and knew less than a year but in that time, it felt like we had been friends forever.

When I first met becky she popped into the cafe because she was coming back to work after taking a 6 month break, trying her hand at something new but her heart was back at the cafe, she seemed nice enough but the day she came back to work, it was a Tuesday I fucking hated her, within an hour she had pulled everything apart, made me feel like I didn’t know anything and I spent the evening in tears but somehow becky had this amazing knack of just loving everybody and by the Friday, it could even have been the Thursday, we were in the pub, getting smashed and me in awe of her, knowing everyone and everyone loving her, even with her messy hair (and for the record I stuck firm on her touching my saucers!).

Becky was gorgeous, funny, very bright and had this really posh accent that at times shocked me when the world ‘fuck’ came out of it, which was rare but it happened, she had the most amazingly messy hair, she had the worst dress sense I have ever witnessed, if I had dared dress in a sack for work I would have looked like a right knob but not her, she strolls into work hair like she had been dragged through a bush and this thing on that looked like it should have had potatoes in but she pulled it off, I ripped it out of her all day but becky just gave it back, the ripped jeans she wore once was another cracker they had such big holes in them she might as well took them off and walked around naked from the waist down but that was her, you never knew what wonders she would find in a charity shop or would dare to wear but she pulled them all off.

When we went out drinking, she wasn’t a smoker but would always have a couple when the drinks were flowing and she had this most odd way of smoking, she would smoke out the side of her mouth looking like Dot Cotton and it was amusing for us all, everytime!! She was oblivious to it and I’m sure she done it even more to make us laugh.

When it time for me to leave the cafe I had decided I didn’t want any fuss but no, becky had other ideas and in came the fancy dress ideas and I had the best night of my entire life thanks to her, without her encouraging me I wouldn’t have known how loved I was (or another way to look at it, how much people wanted to see the back of me and was making sure it was happening!), we said we would wear 50’s clothes but her dress was a little more mini mouse but by the time we were in the pub she had drew a moustache on her face and we partied the night away and getting up on stage at the end of the night to sing my way, she was there, along with everyone else and I always have that very special memory.

Even though I didn’t live there anymore, I always made a beeline for the cafe, always ready for a becky hug and to hear about her crap crush and we would normally head over the road for a drink, she used to plead with me to try and stay but I couldn’t I had to get back with the boys, which makes tomorrow so heartbreaking as I had plans to do just that, stay and we were meant to be going to the pub, all those times she asked me to stay and I couldn’t but I arranged it so we could (it did also tie in with my sons prom so it worked out well) and now instead of laughing with her, now we are all meeting to give her a minstrel goodbye and I am heartbroken.

I feel bad to feel like this, others knew her for way longer and I can only imagine how they feel, I can’t imagine what her family are going through but if they are anything like becky, there will be plenty of hugs and words of wisdom.

Fly high my friend, my best friend, my heart will never be the same again.

V x

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Accepting who I Am

Body image is such a big topic at the moment and even at my age (37) it’s still a huge part of my life.

Jim said the other night what he likes about himself, his legs and his bum and I can’t disagree with him, his bottom is lovely and his eyes..well there isn’t actually anything I don’t like about him (maybe his stubble when for some reason in his sleep he has the ability to take off half my arm when he forgets my arm is there and buries his head like a dog!) he asked me what do I like about myself and that is a question I ask myself most days the answer is nothing.

I don’t like anything about myself: when I look at myself I see one eye socket bigger than the other, I see a wonky smile with my teeth the way they are, I see a huge bump in my nose, my boobs one is significantly bigger than the other, my arse is far too big (not talking Kim K here!) my thighs and legs are like footballers legs (my dad once said this and I can never forget it) my lips aren’t pouty enough, my eyelashes are long enough, my hair looks awful and my belly is like a bowl full of jelly, my feet are like romans with the toes (I don’t have pretty feet) and everything else that I haven’t mentioned I don’t like either. And personality wise? I am the biggest grump going, I find it hard to relax and get jokes, I don’t find ‘people’ particularly easy to get on with (really have to know them first) and the most important one is I don’t ‘love’ myself (not in a big headed way).

I am a massive geek and I saw this the other night a quote from Tyrion Lannister from game of thrones,’ once you’ve accepted your flaws no one can use them against you’. I am at an age now where no one takes the piss out of me but I can’t take the piss out of myself either, I am not one of these fat girls that could say ‘I can lose weight but you can’t change your face’, I just don’t have it in me.

When I put make up on it looks awful, I can do my eyes but foundation and everything else just looks horrendous, I see women my age with perfect make up but I look at mine and think ‘where do I go wrong’ so now I choose not to wear it (for years I stayed away from it after my aunt said to me about not blending it in with my neck and it stayed with me and I was about 13 at the time and I always have this in the back of my mind).

I have an obsession with the 50’s (one of my friends once said I was born in the wrong era) and I look at the pretty dresses, the hair and I think one day I want to be just like that but years later I am still waiting for that day and I am positive that if I could be the person I am on the inside, wearing he hair, the dress the shoes and people around me that ‘get me’ I would probably learn to love me, myself and I.

Why don’t I change myself?  As always with me it comes down to money, if we have some spare money I will never spend it on myself, I could have quite easily recently but decided to give our kids a good day out instead, so for now the inner 50’s girl is remaining inside and probably will do forever, one day I hope to be able to reply differently to Jim when he asked what I love about myself but at the moment I can’t see it happening any time soon.

I want to embrace the different size eye socket but I can’t, I just see one smaller that the other, I want to love my nose but I can’t, I want to love myself but I don’t know how too, Jim tries everyday and says ‘I can’t believe I got someone so beautiful’ but I look away wondering what he sees, when I look at him my heart melts, he is everything I wanted and more (even the stubble) but he has learnt to accept it when I say how good looking he is and I wish I could do the same, I wish I could say thank you and not cringe inside and think but I’ve got a bumpy nose, my teeth aren’t straight how could he possible find me beautiful, they say it’s in the eye of the beholder don’t they? I look at some women and I see their beauty and understand why people find them attractive but I look at me and think ‘no not today’ and look away from the mirror.

Maybe I need to take steps and try and see my ‘beauty’ even now I don’t even want to think about even being remotely attractive, maybe it stems from my teenage years and unable to get a boyfriend, my dress sense and not being accepted by the ‘beautiful people’ I look at pictures of them as they are now and I think ‘yes you still are’ yet I look at me and think back to the terrible haircuts I had and the unfashionable clothes I wore, maybe I’m still living deep in a past that I need to step out of? Maybe I need to start looking at the mature me, the one who can (well sort of) afford some kind of clothing and chose by myself and not my mother (I once got invited to the most popular girl at schools birthday party and I had a mint green trouser and jumper combo on, not really screaming ‘it crowd’)

The bare facts are this: I am grossly overweight, the clothes I buy reflect this, I don’t wear tents but I don’t really experiment with clothes (like I’ve mentioned I can’t afford the ones I like) so I buy the ones I can afford, a cheap pair of jeggings, a cheap top or clothes given to me (heck I only own two bras and both of them are over two years old), my face reflects my weight and while I don’t think my face, legs or hands are big they must be as I am so overweight. One of my worries is if I lose weight will my face become older? Will my one big one small boobs become smaller? While my waist becomes smaller will everything else become better looking?

I want to love myself, I want to enjoy myself and I want to when Jim says ‘your beautiful’ to be able to say ‘thank you’ and not look away.

Well I’m off now to go and try and find at least one bit of be that I can say ‘yeah I like that’ when I’ve found it, I shall let you know (if).

Much love v x