The struggles of being a little lady and more

This is quite a personal blog entry but it's just something I want to write as a prequel post. This post is about insecurities because I hope you will also be able to relate to it and maybe it will help with any issues you are currently facing.

Ever since my 16th birthday I do not think I have grown a single inch, leaving me at a petite 5"1 height. 

I hated being small and I always had confidence issues to do with the way I looked, including my height. As I went off university a lot of small and rather big incidences shaped the way I thought of myself both positive and negative. Let's say it was a big learning curve and talk about all my dirty little secrets another time. 

My semester abroad was what really changed me. I began to become really comfortable with the way I looked. I learnt that it wasn't healthy to be put down by a funny look that a guy gave me and automatically assume it was because he thought I was short and funny looking. 

I shouldn't have based my confidence on how other people reacted to me, because it was my confidence. I should have more control over it. It was wrong to have all my self-esteem build upon what others thought. Worst of all, it probably wasn't even what other people thought, it was my assumption that they would judge me when in reality no one gives a flying fuck. 

When you are living in another country, you have no real wider friends circle therefore you stop caring what people will think of you, because you know that it is temporary and you will be out of there soon. The approach taken by me was, "so what! I'm only here for 6 months, like I give a shit if I tripped and fell off my bike. So what I'm 5"1 and shorter than my friends. Who cares? I don't really know anyone here." 

I made new friends but it was based on this outlook, therefore I didn't care if they liked me for what I was because I was only there for a few months. The friends I made became great friends. It was this attitude that I decided to keep once I came back from my semester abroad, 

I slowly came out of my shell in the exchange programme and grew as a person. Height does not define me, nor do my looks. It's okay to be the smallest person in the room! I shouldn't have to get comfort from others being smaller than me 

There are more important things, and being petite can be great! You feel a more dainty and cute. You can also get away with shorter skirts. 

Sorry for the rather long blog post, I shall try to make it less emosh and gushy next time bros. 

À bientôt, j'espère. 

Appreciation

So it is that time of year again, where I move out of London and back to university. Where I spend four days panicking and the last hour hurriedly packing everything that catches my eye. Even the three mini garden gnomes I somehow have managed to find in my room.

It all fills me with a bitter-sweet emotion because I love my family, and I love how I never have to pay for food, but I can't wait to see my friends again and party hard get my shit together this year.

It's like that feeling you get when you go back to school after the summer holidays and you just feel a bit like a new born deer. You've just been away from everything for so long, and you just never want to step out of your front door because you know it will mean that you have to leave all those long summer days behind.

But you do, you step out of your front door, you go back to school and it turns out to be okay.

Hopefully this year won't be go badly for me.

So after an eventful summer, where I begrudgingly worked at a superstore, gave a presentation at a conference full of lecturers, actually went to a conference full of lecturers, started my blog and learnt to appreciate my family, it's time to go back.

It's been a good four months.

Revolutions, helplessness and other antics

I don't what it is about today but I just feel angry and sad and a little bit violent. Kind of sounds like the symptoms of depression. Don't worry, my job hasn't made me lose the will to live just yet. I'll see about that in a couple more weeks. 

I just feel like things aren't right. I feel so helpless and unable to do anything in relation to the topics I care about. Let me give you a few examples: 

- The current Syrian situation and how Britain can even contemplate going into Syria. Has history taught you nothing Cameron? Maybe the saying is true, that history does repeat itself because fools do not notice the patterns. 

- The continuous disrespect of the humanities in today's society. Because science clearly outweighs the humanities in importance. I am sick of hearing about things like new technology that can enable you to control someone else's actions through your thoughts. It's only a matter of time until that technology is going to be misused and no one else seems to care enough about this. I understand the importance of science. I know, being a History student, the fundamental role that Chemistry has in our lives from the materials around us to the sub-shells in an atom that allows it to have its functions. But why is it that History has become a dying art? History sculpts your mind in the best of ways, allowing you to think in unique way. 

But it's much more than just those two things. It's anger over poverty, the impacts of consumerism, greed, lack of morality and all these other matters. I guess it's just one of those days right? 

I just want to start a revolution on days like this. I want to join a march for something that counts, I want to stand up for what I believe in.

Alas, so lost am I in my thoughts I forget the coward that I am and the metaphorical cage that I trap myself in. I come up with excuses as to why I am helpless to do anything. I think of my bank balance, which is currently at a great big 0. 

And I come to the conclusion that maybe I am unable to do anything. Maybe it's not time yet. Maybe this just isn't my role in the world.

I imagine this is how all potential revolutionists die inside a young person.

Here I am, complaining, letting my inner revolutionist wither, as I think oh well, I feel like having a piece of red velvet cake.