'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent'

When blogging I think there is always a degree of personal information that comes out. In my opinion, the best work is somewhat emotional - how can you write well and passionately about something if you aren't invested in it?

This post is something I have been playing with in my mind for a while. I have been mulling over my exact focus, details and overall tone. Do I want to go there? Do I want to keep more of this confined to my diary? (Yes I have a personal diary - which is facing some neglect whilst I blog - still, that's for knowledge I would never make public). 

As some people reading this will know, this year has been rough. A long romantic relationship came to an end and due to circumstances everything was not closed off in one go - more like an earthquake with painful aftershocks. I recently found the hilarious question 'On a scale of 1 to Adele how bad was it?' Yeah, this was an 'Adele'. I'm not going to delve in to the details of the collapse (that's between myself and the guy concerned - who, despite everything, I don't want to hurt). In fact, I'm not really going to write about him. I don't want this to be a bitter reflection or uninhibited attack - I'll always value what we had and maintain the respect I had for him during our time together. It's easy to walk away and brand the other person as an unspeakable monster, but I think people forget there was something that drew you to them in the first place and you did have the joy of sharing something special with them - unless they did something unforgivable like eat the final peanut butter cookie - then brand away!

As I noted at the beginning of this post, there have to be considerations of what you want to make public. What purpose could it serve? In this case, I think I could certainly get away with not sharing anything - save it for my private pages. Naturally, as I stated earlier, I'm not going in to the painful details. However, I think it is worthwhile that I engage with this. It could help someone in the future and serves as a concrete reminder for me. So, I aim for this to be a source of strength, not sadness.

A while ago I had a conversation with a friend about the books we were reading. I'm still going strong with 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being' (sadly reading has to be saved as a treat between pieces of coursework so I still haven't finished it). I was telling my friend that I had come to the worrying realisation that I strongly relate to the character Tereza. She is a woman who cannot cope with her husband's infidelity and is essentially, systematically bullied by all the other characters. Honestly, I relate with her on more of a philosophical level than a situational one - her thoughts and views are strikingly familiar. However, this discussion led my friend to jokily ask whether I felt bullied by everyone. At the time I laughed and responded that I didn't (which I would like to clarify I still don't - I have numerous wonderfully kind friends) but the question did trigger some thought.

Upon reflection I realised that my friend's question had raised a deeper enquiry within me about how I felt in relation to other people. (On a side note, it's quite amazing how one question can take you to thoughts completely removed from the initial enquiry.) I certainly don't feel bullied by people, but I think this year I have felt that I must prove my worth to others.

The way the previously mentioned relationship ended resulted in a crippling feeling of worthlessness that I don't think I could ever fully articulate. I understand that not sharing details makes this harder to understand but I'd rather not have them floating around the internet. Essentially, the way things ended sent me the message that there was no care or respect for me - which, sadly, resulted in my losing a large amount of respect for myself. If I look back on the time following the relationship ending, I see that I have not been completely myself for a long time and at the beginning my confidence was so shot I was a bit of a ghost. I believed the message that I was worthless, and I accepted that other people would think I was too.

At the beginning of this academic year I was afraid. I would purposefully avoid people and kept my head down. Specifically, I remember approaching a lecture where I saw a group of people I knew standing in front of the building and thinking 'What if they know? What if they know that I'm not worth their time?', before taking a ridiculous route around the side of the building to slip in to the back of the lecture theatre alone. This is pretty laughable when I read it back, but at the time that fear was horribly real - I was so scared that other people would reinforce the message I had been given. I cut myself off because I believed that I had nothing to offer people. As a result, I spent a fair amount of this year feeling that I had to prove I was worth other people's time and fight what I saw to be the horrible conclusion they would all reach.

Whilst doing this, I came to realise that I was in fact fighting myself. I thought I was trying to prove myself to every one else, but I was really reintroducing myself to 'me'. On a more positive note, I frequently got the pleasant surprise of new friends and people who persevered with my reclusive behaviour. Through other people building me up, and the fact that I kept pushing myself to be 'brave' and face others I began to remember that I had something to offer. I was going down a completely deluded road (no one really thought badly of me) but it was one that started to restore me nonetheless.

Reading this back I can't tell you how angry I am with myself. At the time when I needed the most care and support, I bailed on myself. I let someone else determine how I feel about myself and what I deserve. I would be lying if I said I had no anger for this guy suggesting that I am worthless, but I am responsible for taking it on - I accepted it. So, back to the title of this blog - the wise words of Eleanor - 'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent'. I consented. And I so hope that no one else does. I hope that maybe anyone reading this can learn from my failing?

For someone to take away your strength is unreal. I believe in the extraordinary nature of humans - no one should ever feel that they do not have something to give to the world. We are all so complicated and interesting - think of even the five minute conversations you can have with strangers - you see just a glimpse of someone with an entirely new way of being that they could share with you. Everyone has their strengths and you should hold on to them even when the rest of the world is telling you that you have nothing to give.

So, among many things this year, I've learned to love myself. I let someone make me lose touch with myself. I believed their evaluation of me. And how ridiculous was I to do that? The person who knows you best is yourself - you know what sort of person you are and you know what you deserve. I can't stress enough that you should never let another person dictate those things for you - I spent far too long letting opportunities pass me by and hiding myself from the world because of ungrounded fear. I'm not entirely at peace with myself yet, but I don't think I've been so aware of myself in a long time. I am by no means a perfect soul (just spend a day with me when I haven't had enough sleep!) but I am worth your while if you enjoy being harassed with artistic knowledge and baked goods. If I was to get very 'hippyish' about this I would say that everyone has a sort of 'essence' to them, and it is usually what people really love about you, so treasure it and don't let it go missing.

I really wanted to write this to remind people to respect themselves. A lot easier said than done, but I thought if people could read about someone else's experience that may bring the message home in a different way. People often talk about 'losing themselves' - this is an easy thing to do but something I, and I hope anyone who reads this, could be more aware of in the future. 

Yada Yada Yada

I wrote this a while back and never got round to editing it, so this may actually seem like a long time ago - bizarrely, right now is my last afternoon of spring break (after two lecture-free weeks you think I'd have got on top of this?).

In a not so wise move on my part, I drank a latte at 9pm this evening to fire myself up and get through a tutorial reading. Here I am at 2am - utterly wired. I've undergone the recent discovery that I react pretty quickly and strongly to stimulants - I honestly can only have one cup of coffee a day (even something like a latte which is more milky) - any more and I'm off the wall. Still, this provides me with a golden opportunity to catch up on some blogging.

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day that left me a little shocked. I can't entirely remember why, but it came to the point where he said "Back home [he's from the States] it's not uncommon for a girl to sleep with five different guys during one week. It is embarrassing for her but it's seen as the norm." This seems rather extreme, but I think there is some truth in one night stands having become a norm - especially at university.

This is where my personality gets rather scrambled. I have some hippy-ish tendencies but when it comes to things like 'free love' I can't really go there. I want to clarify initially that just because I would not be inclined towards a one night stand, does not mean that I think any less of someone who would be - if they are comfortable and happy then that's fine - it is just not a situation I would want for myself. I think I appear rather outdated - especially for a university student - shouldn't I be going rampant or something right about now? Haha, quite the contrary - I'm home blogging whilst sat next to a tray of cinnamon rolls I just made.

Bluntly, I am only comfortable with sex in a committed romantic relationship. By contrast, I've been present for frequent recollections of one night stands or the discussions of whether it's acceptable to sleep with someone you don't really know. I've been building up different reflections about casual sex and my stance for a while and recently they appear to have come together so I thought I'd articulate some of my ideas.

I recently read an article and came across a concept I am particularly fond of. I wanted to make sure my understanding of this idea was right so I checked with a friend who is fluent in Hebrew and she confirmed it is correct. The Hebrew word 'yada', whilst having numerous meanings depending upon context, has one that I thought was striking. 'Yada' means 'to know', and in a sexual context, it can mean to know physically. The example my friend provided is that in the Old Testament if  it is mentioned that a woman becomes pregnant, it is often said that a husband knew his wife, and thus they conceived a child. I found this particular meaning to be rather beautiful. I think to engage with a person on that level is 'to know' them, and 'to know' them in a way that is unique and special to your relationship. When you think about it at a more basic level, it is special to know some people at all - just be acquainted or good friends with - it's regular for me to say 'I'm so glad I know you' to a friend. Then, there are degrees of knowing people - we all have that friend who knows exactly what we're thinking. However, (at least this is regular for me) it is rare to know people on a different level romantically. To 'know' someone in that way is unique - it is just between the two of you and is not shared with other people. I think 'yada' is a beautifully romantic concept.

Furthermore, I think this idea about 'knowing' suggests some sort of vulnerability and trust. To truly know someone, you both have to open up emotionally in a way that you would not in normal, every day conversation. With a lot of my closest friends defences have been stripped back and weaknesses are known. Playing on the word stripped here... But, yes to be physically close is to be vulnerable. So, surely this should happen with someone you know and trust?

This debate reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend over the summer about clubs. We concluded that in a club you are a body - you are not a person - and really should you settle for that? I get a similar feeling with one night stands - you're a body - you are purely physical. I think this seems sad when you come to understand how intellectually and emotionally extraordinary human beings are.

I thought I'd finish this post by recalling a rather silly conversation I had with my friend about the subject. During our discussion he said: 'Well, I'm open to it because everyone else seems to think it's okay'. My argument (which upon reflection I have realised was a pretty poor parallel) in return was: 'But if people just started murdering each other for no reason and everyone thought it was okay that doesn't mean you would'. His wonderful reply? 'Rachel, you can't really compare having sex and the slaying of innocent people. Although... I guess if you were a preppy guy you could talk about slaying some babes?'

So I leave you with that. The killing of the innocent and slaying some babes with your sexual prowess.

"Rachel, grow some balls"

If I was given a pound for every time the title of this blog post was said to me I reckon I would have enough money to acquire said balls, along with the rest of a sex change.

I've been home for two weeks (spring break!) and used my valuable time to meet up with the wise and wonderful of London. Essentially, lots of nattering over cups of coffee and mooching across the city with friends (random side note - go to the Lucien Freud exhibition hell or high water!)

During these discussions with friends the need for me to stop worrying about other people or 'grow a pair' has come up more than once. I wrote an earlier blog 'One plus one plus one plus one does not equal four' which covers this subject. This is a kind of follow-up to some further thinking - a more practical rather than philosophical musing.

There was a concept I learned about during Psychology A Level that pretty much covers what I'm like. It has been suggested that people have either an external or internal locus of control. If you have an external locus you regard what happens to you as depending upon things out of your control - so if you fail a test it's because the test is too hard or you were just unlucky that day. If you have an internal locus then you hold yourself responsible for events - if you fail a test it's your fault. I have an internal locus of control to the nth degree - I am my worst critic by a mile - everything is certainly my fault (we're working on this folks). Unfortunately, my internal locus also extends to other people. I am extremely conscious of other people's problems or imposing myself upon them.

My father's final words before I left home to travel back to university today - "Stop worrying about everyone else's bloody problems and focus on yourself"

What a sweetheart.

My sense of responsibility is ridiculous - but I am working on it. It takes time like anything else. However, I am proud of the fact that I think I've made a conscious effort towards having what my mum calls some 'sensible self-interest' and being more honest with people (not in the sense that I'm wandering around telling horrendous lies - 'Oh yeah, I'm engaged to Joseph Gordon Levitt - come to my wedding!' - more that I hold back sometimes and suppress). In this process I've become more open and relaxed - which, in turn, has led to my making some new and dear friends this year - essentially more crazed individuals who think and indulge in tea with me (I love nothing more than a cafe date).

So, this is not entirely negative - I think I have progressed.

Anyway, there was a particular point made during one of these coffee-sessions that I hadn't really considered before. These little ideas always help me and make me more comfortable with what I'm trying to achieve. I recently met with a tutor from the art history course I went on last summer (she's a goddess) and she has the incredible ability to make you feel wonderful on the crummiest day. This week she stressed to me that you really should speak your mind (had this drummed in to me by everyone!) but then also reminded me that if you say something you don't agree with on reflection, you can apologise for it - you can take it back. She's a teacher, and her example was that if she feels a student is not working hard she will call them lazy, and then if they work hard to prove her wrong, she can tell them she judged too quickly. Furthermore, she stressed that sometimes honesty (in this case in the form of criticism) is needed to bring good. Honesty can improve a situation, and upon that improvement you can retract your statement.

I had never thought of having the confidence (or balls) to say what I feel or stop concerning myself with other people so much as having a positive outcome. My worry about other people gets to the point where it can defeat itself - I try to avoid harm and then cause it in a round about way.

The phrase 'cruel to be kind' springs to mind. Of course, I think a part of me is always going to be measured and careful not to hurt people (it's how I was raised) but I can cut myself some slack.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll post a blog one day that I've finally managed to overcome my anxiety about upsetting others? I've already made progress. Or this could go horribly wrong and I'll end up publishing a post about how rude and unkind I've become!

Below is a song by Julia Nunes (one of my favourite youtube artists - she's a dream) called 'Grown a Pair'. Just thought it was a nice end to the subject!