Monday, 14 March 2016

It doesn't have to be perfect.....

Life isn't always roses; I know this, I appreciate this, and I never expected it to be. I know that there were always going to be good days and bad days and, yes, the latter were always going to form the majority. Life doesn't always follow those little paths that you want it to – sometimes you lose control and you need to put your life in someone else’s hands or seek guidance from others. Asking for help is not weak, nor is it an embarrassment. Everybody needs a little helping hand from time to time.

I find that, in the short-term, it is so easy to look at life through rose-tinted glasses. You wake up in the morning, birds singing the morning song, burst of light from the early sunshine peeping through your curtains, and a day ready to be faced with vigour and strength. Jumping out of the shower into freshly laundered Egyptian cotton towels, a cool breeze making its way through the window, the smell of freshly brewed coffee tantalizing your senses and you feel alive. Coffee sipped, outfit on, your favourite [and most faithful] heels stepped into, hair made, and a classy flash of colour from your favourite red lipstick and you are ready to face the world, smiling to your heart’s content.

I know that, in real life, people rarely lead lives like these. In all honesty, I don’t think I have ever had a morning that started just quite so perfectly. These days I find myself dragging my bum out of bed at about 6am after waking up at 5.40am throwing myself into the shower as a way of simply waking myself up, grabbing for the nearest towel – most definitely not freshly laundered, coffee is fresh but only at the weekend. I'm known for drinking about an inch before running out of the house. My favourite and most faithful shoes are actually my slippers, not a pair of Nine West beauties (which still remain my favourite pair of heels), and doing my hair and applying lipstick? Really? I rush my hair and makeup before work every morning and sit there feeling a right mess!!

Back to the point… That ideology of a ‘perfect morning’ is, in its true essence, a highly romantic view on how a day should start; anybody who expects this day in and day out is going to be sorely disappointed and unfortunately it would just lead to a spiral of unhappiness. What I envy most about people is that for some, putting on your favourite lipstick and greeting the world with a happy smile is the norm – it doesn't have to be a product of the ‘perfect morning’, nor the product of a ‘perfect life’, it is just the way they are and they can naturally see the world through these rose-tinted glasses. It’s something that I have myself perfected over the years and I know this, only people who really know me can see through the cracks but it makes customer-faced jobs a doddle. They assume I'm some hyped up crazy chick, always on the ball, always laughing and giggling and singing. Okay, a lot of that is fact – I am the girl who sings her heart out in work and isn't afraid to make a mockery of herself, but I wasn't always like that, and it’s only now that I can look back and wonder what the trigger point was.

I think I've boiled it down to travelling and stepping way out of my comfort zone.

I used to be the kind of girl where one thing would go wrong and suddenly the day was ruined and nothing could rectify it. I used to be the girl that had a paddy if she didn't tick every item off the list. I used to be the girl that painted on one hell of a smile for work and then felt her world crashing down as soon as she left. It was dreadful, truly dreadful. Instead of taking every little bad thing in my stride and accepting that these things do happen I let each and every single thing get to me. It’s tiring. It’s never ending. It had to stop.

Dolly Parton once said: "the way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain". So, whilst sometimes I experience one of those gale-force 10 storms, I just take a deep breath and let it wash over me. I feel invincible....

With love, xo

No comments:

Post a Comment