Diary Of A Sentimental Heart: Part 2.

Going to therapy (and not feeling like Gwyneth Paltrow), crying at George Ezra (and not feeling proud) and why, for now, I will not be an online crier ...

(Thank you so much for your kindness on last week’s post. It felt really special and quite cathartic to share. I used to be a bit of a smooth operator when it came to sharing and articulating feelings online- be it in a blog post or in a YouTube vlog (wild that I used to just do that!) I also used to be good at leaving the house with a fuzzy beehive and white tights without minding what anybody thought (imagine!). But I’m wondering- if with age, experience and the realisation of how people aren’t always very kind- you lose that confidence sometimes. I think I’m trying to re-establish that a little bit, care a little (or lotta) bit less- and write for the sheer love of it, as I always have. And wear the tights too (and the sheer love of those- no pun intended. Much).

Realising it’s quite difficult to find an image to accompany words about a break up, so I’m going through my albums from around a similar time to find some nice pictures that aren’t me with a puffy face (I am many things but I am not, as of yet, an online crier). This was from a trip to Paris in 2022, I love the fact you can see a man in his living room watching TV (in the… least creepy way possible).

When you haven’t experienced a break-up in 13 years, it’s likely you’ve spent a lot of that time enveloped in comfort with someone during the day-to-day and year-to-year. With each others’ lives fully tangled up together, like little peas growing in a garden around a cane, or two plants rooted together bedded deeply into the soil. From shared meals, conversations, company and the comedy you watch on Channel 4- you almost forget how to be just on your own. How do you spend time alone- like, really alone? It’s amazing how quiet and noisy everything seems at once during times of turbulence and when everything changes.