relationships

Bittersweet symphony…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’ve had a whirlwind of flares of late. As soon as one issue eases another gears up. I’ve been chipping away at some projects very slowly. However, when unable to function these are some of the things that have helped me pass the time.

I got a free trial of Apple TV with my new phone whilst having a scroll and decided to give Ted Lasso a try. I knew that it was about an American coming to manage a football team. I thought it was funny. Other than that I was going in blind. Oh my god! What a show, I’m a wreck. It’s the most emotional thing I have watched in a long time. It is laugh out loud funny, but it also has the most heart wrenching moments. I fell in love with almost all of the characters. It managed to be truly hopeful without swimming in cheese. If you haven’t seen it, you must. Bittersweet and beautiful with a little crazy thrown in for good measure.

Talking of Lasso, the soundtrack is goooood. One of the gems I discovered is Strange by Celeste. It’s one of those songs I can feel. Celeste’s voice is haunting. She perfectly captures the weirdness of human relationships. We go from not knowing someone exists, to being the most important person in their life and sometimes, back to strangers again. It’s painful, but also inevitable. We all change, we grow, not always towards each other. It’s not an original thought, but it is uniquely expressed.

Yoko By Maisie Peters was a Tik Tok find. Someone used the music in a video and I was hooked. I love the idea of miscommunication described this way. I think as a woman we’ve also all met those men who loudly proclaim Yoko is to blame for the breakup of The Beatles. They’re usually of a type. I’m never surprised when more casual misogyny spills forth. Anyway, it’s a song about people misunderstanding each other and ultimately one party not making the effort. All encapsulated in the lines,

You know Yoko never broke up that band, You misunderstood The Beatles…

I’m not ashamed to admit I’d like to have written that couplet.

On a completely different bent, we have the H3 Podcast. As usual I am years slow in the uptake, but I have been enjoying it for the last few weeks. I believe it has been a controversial like. I care not. It’s a free form live podcast. Very funny, the team have a genuine camaraderie & I tend agree with most of their takes. There’s loads of nonsense plus coverage of current events. I love that Ethan is willing to admit his mistakes. Of course you know I’m a sucker for a real family man; which he seems to be. Love me some wife guy vibes.

Finally, my latest read was a winner. This Family by Kate Sawyer takes place at a wedding. The family members and their history are slowly introduced as the day unfolds. Sawyer correctly portrays how complicated family relationships can be. All the little betrayals, annoyances & differing opinions between a group of people bound together for life. I really loved it.

If you enjoy what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

The Last Supper…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Season 2 is complete & I would like some credit for knowing that Aidan was a very bad idea from the get go.

We’ll get back to my i told you so later. Let’s kick off with the good, eh? Anthony is in love. Excellent. I’m not convinced by the whole internalised homophobia plot, but I am pleased he has a happy conclusion.

Miranda & Steve finally have the closure I was begging for. A recognition of what they shared & a promise of a friendly future. I loved Steve’s ‘I was right for a really long time’. It is lovely to see a relationship breakdown being portrayed as something other than failure. It doesn’t always last forever, but that doesn’t erase all the good that people share. Another big tick.

Che remains annoying. The tequila in Carrie’s kitchen, their insistence that those jokes were funny & to be honest their presence at the dinner wound me up. Nya’s (I had to remind myself of her name, which is not a good sign) handsome bar dude being the chef was a bit too romcom convenient. Similarly Seema’s I love you’ freak out was cliche, but I can let some things go. Carrie acquiring a kitten pleases me immensely. Bonus points for naming her Shoe. Samantha’s cameo was a let down, however at least in keeping with her character.

Which brings us back to where we started; Aidan. Now that she has sold her home & purchased a giant place he’s about to make redundant, he can bear to enter that apartment. The minute Carrie upends her entire life, he discovers that he can’t possibly take his eyes or thoughts off his kids for a second. Obviously a parent should always put their children’s needs first, but I’m not sure constant supervision is what his teen requires. It’s now that we learn that the ex wife is not a constant in the lives of the kids she flew to NYC to warn Carrie off. Aidan literally clicks his fingers & expects Carrie to freeze. There is only one possible answer to his 5yr wait proposition; FUCK OFF.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Big love?…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’m a women of a certain age. I’ve been proposed to twice, but never married. I’ve gotten lost in crazy love, hurt by the stormy, comfortable in the familiar, heartsick over the not to be me and everything else in between. I think much of the romance has probably been knocked out of me by now.

And then I tune into Carrie & co and have second thoughts. The parts of And just like that I can’t get in step with are the ones that shatter the fantasy. I may be jaded in real life, but my desire for happily ever after persists. Some people enjoy the life like twists, I want no part in the angst.

Unless of course it’s just a stop off on route to joy. I’ll suffer a short detour if it makes the destination sweeter, but I have zero tolerance for wading around mapless. Miranda’s second series arc is killing me. I loved her & Steve. His portrayal as some old sad sack was bad enough. Now he’s cold, manipulative and pathetically shagging randoms. It doesn’t add up. How did we get from tenderly embracing how lucky they were to have each other pre Big’s funeral to their current soulless stalemate? Every time we’re given a glimpse of the love they once had it gets tarnished with a turn of events that feels shoe horned to make this storyline work. Couldn’t we have watched them meet new people, explore new challenges and use what they learned to grow together? Maybe that sounds like an unattainable ideal, but I absolutely do not care. I’ve gone through all the shit with these characters. I want the fluff!

I could have gotten on board if Miranda and Che had been the real deal. Perhaps if the plot had included Steve moving towards healing & accepting that he needed more too. Some respect and affection would have gone a long way. Stale marriage, exciting short lived relationship and ending up sleeping in a single bed in your mates spare room doesn’t cut it. Everyone’s sad. I know my head is filled with rom com nonsense, but I want the pipe dream.

The return of Aidan also gives me the heebie jeebies. Big is gone, obviously Carrie has to move on to drive the drama. I understand going full circle. Big & Aidan are her ‘two big loves’, but come on. He couldn’t get through one evening without getting whiny. Aidan was a nice enough man, but it never felt like he actually wanted Carrie. He wanted a version of her that fitted his needs. Now he’s back and already not happy with her life. Perhaps I’m harsh, I found his little I can’t go back up there hissy fit ridiculous. If you’re not over the past, there can’t be a present. Is Carrie going to have to start pandering to his nonsense again? After colouring outside the lines with her soulmate I can’t help wondering if this is a memory lane best not wandered down.

I want ‘you’re the one’ on Parisian bridges or vowing never to take off one’s wedding ring. Real life is messy enough, let me get my true love vicariously please.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Feels like home to me…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody. Be you a lover or a hater, I hope you’re having a good day. I’ve always liked it. It’s nice to have day to celebrate love. I mean sure, we should be spreading it all year round. It is still nice to have day dedicated to getting smoochy.

I don’t have one true love this year, but I can still have a little fun with v day. Fun aside, I find this year that I am thinking about someone in particular. Someone I probably ought not to ponder over, but I can’t help myself.

Sometimes you feel a connection to a person even when it makes no sense. You go through the hurt and happy. Back to pain Then more happy. It’s impossible, puzzling & never going to work. You still can’t entirely walk away. Or is this just me?

Cléa Lala

I’m not sure why easy rarely features in my romantic choices. Perhaps I like a challenge. I do know it’s hard to give up on a person who feels like home.

I am anything I want…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’ve had another sleepless night and I used the extra hours to clean up outstanding admin. One of the tasks I enjoy the least is dealing with the angry dms/emails etc I get from random followers who hate fat, single woman being happy & online. Recently there has been a sharp upturn in the number of messages telling me I should be ashamed, i’m a bad influence, should have more self respect… To those I say, SUCK IT,

close up of red haired woman with retro glasses & septum piercing sipping straw in iced drink

You’re not a slut (unless you like that term) if you enjoy lots of sex. Nudity is not inherently sexual and even when it is, it is not dirty. No one has to justify their sexual agency. I’m a grown ass woman with a healthy sex drive & I give zero fucks about what anyone thinks of that.

I have a sex life. Fat women are desired. I’ve had various partners. Some were great ideas others not so much. I’ve shed some tears, discovered things about myself, been frustrated & had a fucking ball. I’m am sick & tired of the contempt for female sexuality. I’ve regretted some of my sexcapades, but I’ve never been ashamed. In fact, I’m delighted to offer some high(& low)lights in service of the sex positive feminist agenda.

There was the Brazilian bus driver turned surgeon who was fun and precipitated an embarrassing incident.

The night club bouncer I fell arse over elbow for only to have him wreck my life.

The university professor who was kind, smart, committed & gorgeous, but just not the one.

The stunning aspiring stage actor who had the sexiest curves I’ve ever seen. She soothed my broken heart, boosted my self esteem and invited me to her wedding years later.

The film critic who gave great date and turned out to be full of shit.

The part time novelist who was a talented writer (& lover), but wanted me much more once he couldn’t have me.

The librarian union rep who presented as the ultimate lefty. Unless it related to feminism, then he was the laziest of ‘not all men’ misogynists.

The post man who was just a terrible rebound mistake and had to get up way too early.

The student whose very catholic Mum popped in when were having sex on the sofa. The 3 minutes it took me to find anything to hide behind were probably the most awkward of my life.

The bar manager who got clingy two dates in despite telling me she didn’t want anything serious.

The biologist who was fine really, but always thought he knew best. Good time in bed. Frustrating conversations.

The IT analyst who wanted to move way too fast. Very romantic, but scared the shit out of me with detailed future plans.

The tax man who started out a lot of fun. Settled into something comfortable. Ended up a huge cowardly disappointment.

The electrician who was a whirlwind. Crazy night outs. Cuddly weekends watching old movies. Fizzled out fast.

The newly divorced Mum who was actually pretty incredible, but really wanted to live the party girl life. I was just too old & tired for clubbing on a Wednesday.

The rugby player who was an entirely different person in front of his friends. I met a cool, sensitive guy. Every time we went to the pub I was with a rugby boy cliche. Big nope.

The lottery fund allocator who could have been perfect if i wasn’t so ridiculously bad at recognising the nice guys.

The mental health worker who was all erudite and kind. Big social conscious. Fostered rescue cats. Was also way too interested in my scars in bedroom. Creepy & ugh.

The photographer who was exciting & hilarious, but only because he took copious amount of cocaine. Pro tip ladies coke is no friend to the old erection.

And more.

I have a favourite who blew my mind. There were crazy hot folk, guys that others thought weren’t attractive at all, relationships, flings & the odd one nighter. It’s all fine. Every (consensual) sexual encounter was ok for me. Sex is fun. It’s natural. It can be as big or as little a deal as you feel it is.

ly is posing in black underwear with red faux suspenders tights . She has her arms above her head

Safe sex between consenting adults is A OK. Have as much or as little as you want. Talk about it or don’t. Your body is yours to do with as you please. Enjoy.

If you enjoy my content you can support me here or on Patreon.

I’ll be your mirror…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships lately. I’m preoccupied by the dynamics of my own romantic history, but also the societal norms. The things we tell ourselves, the advice we give and believe.

There are tropes I find easy to dismiss. I know you don’t need to love yourself to have others love you. Lots of warm, kind, excellent folk don’t like themselves all the time. Self doubt doesn’t make good qualities any less appealing. Obviously loving yourself is beneficial in countless ways. Whilst you’re working on it, you aren’t exempt from third party estimation.

I’ve never bought into ‘you’ll find them when you’re not looking’ thing. I found a few lovely people by actively looking. They might not have been forever, but they were good experiences. A couple I’ve kept around on a platonic basis. It’s always struck me as daft advice. The exact opposite of the accepted wisdom on goal achievement. We tell each other to put the work in when seeking career advancement, not to buy the first thing we like when making big purchases, practise hard to develop new skills and so on. If every other life enhancement requires careful consideration & applying ourselves why should we leave finding a life partner to chance. Sure, a meet cute is romantic; it’s just not all that realistic for most people. Very few things of value fall into one’s lap. Putting yourself out there appears sensible.

There are many more obviously problematic cliches. I’d love to bin that ‘if you can’t handle me at my worst’ nonsense. It lends itself way too easily to toxic situations. Everything happens for a reason is similarly flawed. You’ll drive yourself crazy with that one. Sometimes life is random & people are fuckwits, you cannot base decisions on chaos. Trust your gut is 50/50, lots of us have less than stellar instincts. Plenty of fish in sea, tonnes of utter garbage too. Love at first sight is usually just desire. We each have more than one soulmate and karma rarely gets involved in romantic entanglements. I’m sure you get my point. I’ve had my share of passion & I’m not buying the prosaic instruction.

Or am I? I do find myself stuck on some well worn pearls. I can’t completely rid myself of the notion that how we feel about ourselves inform the partners we choose and how they treat us. Nor can I discount, we get the love life we believe we deserve. Perhaps these speak to my own experiences & mental struggles. I can see how that would make sense. I often think of myself as difficult. I’m uncompromising on many points, strident, damaged. I recognise I also have more endearing characteristics. Still, you could summarise most of my amorous affairs as complicated. Kind souls with simpler offerings rarely hold my attention for long. Out & out baddies are likewise swiftly disguarded. I learned early not to let anyone smash my heart to pieces. However, I will absolutely keep coming back if you make a riddle of slowly dismantling the pieces.

I think loving me is laborious, so I choose relationships with challenging dynamics. Can it really be that simple? I know my penchant for the fickle isn’t unique & many other unhelpful patterns exist. Believe me, taking all the blame isn’t a huge leap for me. On the other hand, wouldn’t establishing that as fact encourage the beliefs that started this? Confirming that one’s perceived maladjustment is the cause of failed romance seems to solidify those negative beliefs. That strikes me as sticky little trap.

I feel there has been a shift in the focus of romantic guidance we consume. These seemingly deeper insights are definitely well intended. I think we offer this advice because we want to protect people we care for & we believe it for self preservation. Having control is comforting. Thus it’s tempting to internalise blame. If you’re at fault, you can fix it. I’m just wondering if it all becomes a self fulfilling prophecy. When think we pick the wrong people and we accept the wrong behaviour, don’t we just lower our opinion of ourselves? I worry that just leaves a person open to more manipulation & ill treatment.

We accept the love we think we deserve in black lettering on pink background

It especially gives me pause because I see it most often aimed at women & people with mental health issues. It’s perplexing. On one hand introspection totally makes sense. On the other it plays into really unhealthy existing thought patterns. Basically I’m wondering if in the guise of taking responsibility we’re actually setting ourselves up to fail.

I’m in danger of going full Carrie Bradshaw with all the relationship pondering, but what do you think? Are there any wise (or not so wise) words that have had an impact on you?Carrie Bradshaw from s&tc with text ‘when it comes to life & love, do we accept our worst reviews’

And a happy new year…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I think it’s fair to say that 2019 has been a shit show. A political nightmare on a global scale. Environmentally disastrous & frankly a genuinely worrying time to be alive. My faith in humanity has taken a battering this year.

It won’t be like this all the time stencilled onto a pavement

It hasn’t been an especially uplifting 12 months on the personal front either. There’s been loss, illness & a struggle for meaning. It has all felt a little pointless at various stages, but I made it. Here I am living & learning. Carrying on.

Woman in bed with teary eyes

The year got off to a heartbreaking start, but there have been ups. I cemented a crucial relationship & extricated myself from one, which in hindsight, I hadn’t wanted to be in for quite a while. My people have proven once again how marvellous they are. Circling around when needed & letting me be when required.

Txt conversation

There have been a few professional triumphs. I returned to public speaking (terrifying), embarked on a little social media consultation & posed for some excellent photographers. I produced writing I am proud of and my expanded audience significantly.

I applied myself to the task of enjoying life. It’s not always easy when dealing with chronic & mental illness; I’m pleased with my progress. My little ones continue to be of endless interest. I have immersed myself in the joy they bring as often as possible. I’ve allowed myself to enjoy time with someone lovely & undemanding. I even had some successful surgery.

Selection of pictures of children

Most importantly (I think), I have released myself from the need to know where I’m going. I always thought my biggest purpose was motherhood & letting go of that dream has been challenging. I felt bereft of meaning. It has taken time & wise counsel to discover that perhaps I don’t need all the answers right now. It’s ok to take some time to breathe & live. Hopefully other options will present themselves. In the meantime I can work on career goals and hopefully continue to squeeze maximum happiness out of life.

Path continued painted cement ground with foot & walking stick

So, it’s true. Life goes on. I suppose that’s as true on a larger scale as it is personally. We can still strive to be the change. Sadly, it looks like there will be lots of opportunities to test the courage of our convictions. I hope we prove ourselves brave.

Mirror image of fat women smiling

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* Photography Credit – Megi Aben

I give up…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 8 Comments

The universe is determined to give me opportunities to discover social faux pas. The events of the last weeks have revealed to me a host of new things that lots of people say when one talks about miscarriage. The vast majority of these comments are very well meant, but nonetheless, have considerably missed the mark.

Being open about having had multiple miscarriages seems to unfurl two main threads of conversation. The most prolific being enquiries as to why it keeps happening and what I have done about it. I think I know why people ask these questions. Partly fear, no one wants this to happen to them. I suppose people think if they know the whys they can avoid it or fix the problem. The other side being an assumption that everything can be fixed. I understand that, we are so used to living in a world where things can be cured or treated. I know from having chronic conditions that people are often confused to learn that some things can not be corrected. In the case or recurrent miscarriage this enquiry is unhelpful for variety of reasons. Firstly miscarriage, recurrent miscarriage and infertility often fall into the category of ‘don’t know’. About half of those who suffer recurrent miscarriage are unable to find a reason after testing. I am one of those people. I have had all the standard tests and investigations to little avail. I did have some adhesions that were successfully removed and I have PCOS, but no Dr I have consulted believes that to be the cause. The short answer is, no one knows. Asking this question isn’t helpful. If a person doesn’t know, you’re just underling that difficult fact by making them explain it again. If they do, they may not want to discuss such private and sensitive information with you or anyone else.

Offshoots of this such as, Have you seen a Dr about this? You should get another opinion, My friend did such & such or surely there must be something they can do, are unwelcome. I have had four miscarriages. I have lost four children that I desperately wanted. Of course I have done everything within my power to find out why and prevent it from happening again. The suggestion that I haven’t offends me. It indicates that you think I am either stupid or careless. I understand that wasn’t the intention, but please, think before you speak. It’s also important to be aware that the NHS usually won’t begin these investigations until after a third miscarriage. Not everyone has the resources to seek private medical treatment. Anyone in that situation doesn’t need nosey salt in their wounds.

The other comments this loss has garnered are of the don’t give up variety. A lot of people have reached out to tell me there’s always hope. The have shared their own experiences of loss or struggles to conceive and assured me that miracles happens. That they eventually had their baby and it was all worth it. I know you think you are helping. I know you are trying to be kind. Let me just say this, not everyone gets a miracle. We are not all able to try again. There are limits to what the body can do, physically & emotionally. There are time constraints. Relationship constraints. Financial constraints. At this moment I don’t feel like I have another try in me. Losing another baby would destroy me. Maybe I will feel differently in the future (it would have to be the fairly near future), but I don’t think so. Facing the reality of my limitations is not weak. Recognising that I can not square this circle is not giving up.

I don’t intend this as an attack. I realise these aren’t purposeful attempts to hurt. I just want to have an open discourse. I think these confusions arise because we don’t talk about this topic enough. If you want to offer support to someone who has suffered this kind of loss it will be appreciated. Simply offering your condolences and assurances that you are available is enough. Respect that everyone grieves differently and your kindness will cherished.

 

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.