Maybe today

It's a funny old world sometimes, and each June seems to bring a wave of change. Maybe it's the summer solstice or some other such influence at work! Hmmm.....anyway, I just know that each June for a good number of years has brought more than its fair share of moments of unanticipated stress, realisations, change, happiness, farewells or otherwise. Whatever the whys and the wherefores, this point of the year makes me stop and reflect.


Today I think I am content. It's not simple or uncomplicated, but it's there nonetheless.

I have spent the weekend in the fresh air, in Scotland's most glorious and mountainous countryside working hard as a volunteer with people who make me feel very privileged to know them. My feet and hips ache, and my midgie bites are lively! But, amongst the busyness, weather and people there was space to be me, do my thing, and be good at it.

My nephew is alive, recovering and home.

A new job starts in a week. The days between will be extremely busy tying up the ends of a project I'm sad not see to see to conclusion and I am instead saying goodbye to colleagues who've offered their support and friendship along the way.

There's a man whose role in my life is yet to become clear, but he is there and what unfolds will unfold. I'm not going to rush it or worry.

I have found a sense of stillness and calm somewhere amid the chaos. Mountains and music always help. This weekend there were mountains. Perhaps next I can find some music.

Maybe the wiccans, druids and pagans are right, that it is a time to celebrate life, change or growth. Maybe it is an annual coincidence. Maybe I pay more attention to these events because it's happened before. Maybe it just is what it is. Maybe today I just am. And, that's ok with me.

Back to the Grind Stone

My decision is made. I'm going to be an employee again. I'm excited and nervous. The project is high profile and demanding, but very tangible and with a charity whose work I admire and respect. The bit of me that left my last job with my self confidence worn into the ground has been whispering in my ear. But I know these are just thoughts and they will pass.


I'm very proud of everything I've achieved over the past 14 months of self employment. I've proven I can make it work. I also know that it's a world that I will return to. It's been fantastic to lead a different kind of life for a while and is what I will strive for in the future.

However, as a single-ish girl with no-one else to help pay the mortgage, and who's still carrying student debt amongst other things, it's also made me realise how much I'd like to be free of the shackles of those bills, mortgage aside.

So, probably for the first time in my life I've made a decision about my career based on money, as well as opportunity. I want to clear the decks and be financially freer. I want to build a more stable platform for myself and my future. After all, no-one's going to do it for me.

I will return to a life more free and flexible. But for now, security feels important.

I feel very proud and privileged to be in a position where I've worked hard enough that I've had a choice to make, and for the support of those who've helped me get there.

I am going to concentrate my energies on making my life secure enough that I can make more choices without fear. Money can't buy happiness, but for now it can help me buy a future I want.

My Career: A Tipping Point

Today has been strange. Tomorrow could be stranger.


Tomorrow I could have two existences to choose from, the continuation of my long term contract or a big scary exciting job. Or none. A board of directors may decide to change their strategy and not renew my bread and butter contract, and someone may decide not to offer me a job that is so close I can almost feel it.

I could have it all to pick from, or nothing. It is terrifying and exciting. I am on the cusp of three very different futures: employee, freelance consultant or a blank slate.

The positive, optimistic, professional me trusts that I have done enough for those who hold the decision making powers to vote in my favour. But, there is part of me that knows that the whims of others may leave me having to rebuild.

I must have faith and hope that out there is a bright future. For now, it is all out of my hands.

He is Alive

Today is a day I don't want to go through again for a long, long time.

My beautiful, wonderful four year old nephew has spent eight hours having surgery on his heart. He now has a goretex artery. He really only has one functioning chamber, and had his first op two years ago to help re- plumb him and keep him going until he was big enough for today to happen. His situation is extremely rare.

Over the past months he has been getting more tired, breathless and blue on a bad day. Oxygenated blood gets round his body more by luck than by design, hopefully today will change all of that.

It's so easy to forget he's not a normal wee boy. He is a cheeky monkey, who is learning his way in the world, obsessing about Ben Ten watches, demanding just one more story and refusing to eat certain things although he loves broccoli and asparagus! His 'go faster stripe' or 'zip' is, of course, a constant reminder.

He is the most important person in my world. I don't have kids, but I do have him. He lives round the corner and we see each other often. We have things that just he and I do together. We're growing a miniature garden at the moment. It would have been all tomatoes if he'd had his way. Instead there are beans, broccoli,carrots, potatoes, pumpkin and some ill looking radishes. And, tomatoes. We laugh and he hates snails. He gave me into trouble for throwing one into the next garden the other day. He reminded me that I should be 'nice and kind'. Sorry snail.

He is still intensive care, and being sedated over night. He has been in my thoughts, hopes and tears today. The dreadful thought of it all going wrong and the pain that he will be in when he wakes nagging me. The endless hours, minutes and seconds endured by my brother and his wife. The thoughts of eating his first home grown radishes and learning to like bugs keeping me going.

He is OK. He is not there yet, but he is strong. He will get through and we will all be right there beside him.

He is alive.

A little composure

Ok, time to pull myself together and and acknowledge that a panic is simply that and it will pass. It is passing, helped very much by the wise and kind words of others who have taken the time to share with me. Thank you. You know who you are!


I am nervous about seeing him. But, I am seeing him tomorrow.

The last night we spent together pressed too many of my buttons It was not his fault but simply what goes on my head. Old wounds twinging and sending me into a tail spin.

When I saw him last weekend, we had both had other commitments and met at his house afterwards, taking advantage of me being in the same city for the evening. It was lovely, but come Sunday morning it felt like some kind of 'booty call' (for want of a better phrase!!). We hadn't spent the evening together, just the night. Albeit he'd made efforts to plan a lovely breakfast and we enjoyed a lazy morning.

It put me right back to that place of feeling that 'something is better than nothing', that devalues me, where I allow myself to accept crumbs from the table, where I allow myself to be led on because I don't feel like I don't deserve any better. I know this is a fallacy, but it takes me huge efforts to remind myself that I am not that person any more.

None of it is helped by me recently allowing an ex to take advantage me (there is only so often you can brush someone off, knowing it is dangerous territory, when the their words and actions make you feel wanted and attractive), lead me on, and ultimately destroy our friendship. He knew my weaknesses and disregarded them all. What's worse is that I let him, even apologising for being angry with him when I had every right to be.

David has done nothing wrong. There was absolutely no evidence to suggest that I was only there to entertain him, but that sinking feeling overwhelmed me and I tried to remain composed but succeeded only achieving an odd mood, which he picked up on. I was so pissed off and shocked at my reaction to it all that I cried all the way home in my car. I wasn't upset with him, but at all the situations in my past that had led me to that place.

I apologised by text when I got home for being a bit odd, and told him that there's perhaps some stuff I need to share with him next time. That time has come. The time where I let him see what's on the inside and hope that he finds something he likes. At least I will be honest and allow myself to be vulnerable. This will be a huge achievement no matter the outcome.

Wish me luck....

Being Bridget again....

Ok, I hate this. I do fine with the the first few dates, but it's the bit after I despise. The bit where you don't know each other well enough to have an idea of where things stand, or whether they are a boyfriend or not. The bit when you just want to get over that next hurdle and agree that you are in a relationship. But, it's also the bit where you don't want to rush into the next bit, and be smart, take it slow blah, blah, blah......


I am in panic mode about it all at the moment. David is lovely and I want this to go somewhere, I want to be smart about it. I am also panicking that it's now Wednesday and we haven't been in touch since Sunday. I initiated a brief text message exchange today, just to say 'Hi', but now panicking that even this casual exchange will suggest that I am needy. Another invitation is yet to arrive. None of which is helped by the fact that he is away this week, and lives in a city an hour away so a casual drink or lunch isn't an option.

I am panicking that it's all going to come crumbling down around my ears. There is no evidence that this is the case, but some old wounds left me behaving slightly oddly at the weekend. I am panicking that I have imagined that we are having a good time.

I am panicking that he won't call, won't make a plan, won't want me. All that awful stuff that we do. I know I need to exercise patience. I know I need to carry on doing the things I do regardless and see what happens but I worry that I will betray myself by not being patient.

The dating advice of others just confounds it all. There are rules: rules to be broken, rules not to be broken, timings to follow, games to be played, who invents these things and who should we listen to?

I am panicking because of the core belief that tells me I am unloveable and unworthy. I know it is simply that, a belief rather than reality, but that part of me can be a very strong voice at times.

I must take a deep, deep breath and think positive. How? F**k.

Taking chances

I don't want to turn this into a blog which has Dating as its primary subject, but for the moment I need to stick with the whole Bridget Jones thing. It's what's on my mind, and processing it all here is the best outlet I have. So, apologies and thank you for bearing with me!

The Canadian, - calling him my his real name makes it feel very real – is lovely and being smart is hard! David, there, I said it. He is David and he is nice.

He is nice, and cheeky and gentle and insightful, and I am scared and excited.

Trying to take thing one step at a time is so at odds with my last couple of significant relationships, which is, I guess, why they ultimately failed. They were built on shaky foundations. Houses built on sand.

As much as I am trying be brave and not run from this for fear of failure, I'm also scared. All of which is normal I guess. I need to be measured and honest. I'm managing so far and he's respecting that, responding well.

I'm feeling good about it all after another lovely evening. I'm also feeling weird because it's gone beyond a few casual dates, which means now I, we, need to build those foundations and see what happens. It means I need to do this without losing track of me. I need to remember that I will be ok if it doesn't work out, that I have a life and friends and and a career and hope. But, right now I also need to take a risk and believe that I am loveable.

The Canadian - Are rules made to be broken?

I've been a bit distracted by a variety of things over the past couple of weeks, hence the absence from here. Thought I'd share an update on the Canadian though.


I'm sitting here mulling over a lovely night. I had my first visit to the Canadian's house last night. Meeting four, date number three.

I'm feeling very spoiled indeed. I arrived at his flat, which had obviously seen a tidy up effort in my honour, to candles and cold cava, cocktails and a delightfully relaxed dinner. I was hugely impressed by the effort he'd made and flattered also. Maybe he's as keen as I am on getting to know each other better, either that or he's a very smooth operator! Whatever the motivation, it was successful and very enjoyable.

I stayed over, perhaps too soon. Perhaps I am simply being a little paranoid about all the rules of dating that we're supposed to follow? It felt like the right thing to do, but pangs of what I 'should' or 'shouldn't' do rear their heads. My insecure self showing up, and confusing the me who wants more than sex, or more than a rushed into relationship that is rushed out of equally quickly. I guess I just have to follow my instincts. I don't always trust them though. We are grown ups, not 19 year olds who are nervous and inexperienced. I'm trying to be smart about this, not hurry, maybe it is a physical step too far. Maybe it is just what it is. Maybe I should trust in his efforts to impress.

Breakfast in bed and a very lazy morning with chat serious and silly have taken us along that next step in the road. I know he's looking for something serious, and not fling. I know more about what he wants from life. He knows I'm looking for something solid, and that's ok with him.

Conversation and kisses come easily with him. Honesty also.

He's an ordinary sort of a guy. He's clever, gentle and realistic, and not gushing or rushing. I am grateful for this. I don't do well with too much flattery or early displays of emotion. I like these things to come gently.

I look forward to getting to know him better one step at a time, warts and all. I want to do this slowly and feel my way forward without pressure, protecting my heart along the way.

So, the dating saga continues

On to the third man who's emerged over the past wee while: after one idiot, one nice but ultimately unreliable and slightly elusive guy, there comes a charming Canadian. And I am delighted!


We met at a conference a couple of weeks ago, where I had to host a table. I had no influence over the seating plan I must add, and ended up with him on my left for the evening. He was a great conversationalist and more than once rescued me from technical chatter of cancer scientists when I was beginning to lose track and bring it all back to lay man's terms.

We discovered a mutual friend, a good friend at that who has since been doing his share of match making....

Confident, intelligent, cheeky. He's not the most handsome man I've ever met, but he has that spark about him. Tucked under the beard is a great smile, and a whole lot of insight. Oh, I do like a beard.

Anyway, we had our first proper date last night and it was delightful. His car had been ditched for the evening before we'd even made it to dinner, and we spent the evening laughing and sorting the woes of the world out.

For a change I'm not wondering if he'll call or when. I know he will. When doesn't really matter.

I'm also not daft and counting chickens, but it is very good to know there are still some decent men left on the market which restores my faith in why I bother with this dance we all do.

Dear Jim

Tonight I found out someone I once knew died this week. Suicide I think, from the vague messages filtering through.


It's a weird one. I didn't know him for a long time. He was the best friend of an old friend of mine. We had a fling of sorts about four years ago. He worked abroad, and when in the UK lived in elsewhere but we spent some interesting and fun times together.

We connected in a way we all sometimes, but rarely, preciously, do with folk. A bright spark of recognition, soulfulness and humour.

I haven't seen him for a long time. We enquired after each other via the mutual friends, but our paths rarely crossed.

He was a wonderful man with tattoo of Calvin and Hobbs on his bottom that was acquired in a drunken dare in Hong Kong. He was a photographer, amongst other things. Silly and passionate with an inherent sadness at his core.

I was with him when he got the call to tell him his mum had cancer. I watched him receive the news I had heard for myself only a couple of years earlier. I watched him deflate. That kick in the guts of life turning in an instant, of child becoming parent. I watched him cry, and begin to run through the scenarios. I held him, and told him the truth.

I am sad for him. But, he is free. I am more sad for my friend who has lost his best man. Tonight I have cried for them both.

I will write to our friend tomorrow.