Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. No sooner have I come to terms with the fact that I spent another consecutive New Year’s Eve alone than Valentine’s Day comes along to remind me that I am still single.
Usually on this “special” day I bury my head in the sand and hide out in my bedroom watching romantic comedies or napping away the day.
Sometimes I have even tried to get on with my day like usual and found myself feeling insanely jealous and lonely when I come across any happy couples out and about. Every couple I see is like a slap in the face for me on Valentine’s Day, which makes me feel like I am the only single person left in the world.
But this year is going to be different. I am no longer going to think to myself, ‘Maybe next year it will be different.’ I have been single for four and a bit years.
I decided a while back to stop counting the time that has passed since my last relationship ended. Knowing the number of years, months and weeks wouldn’t help me. The relationship seems a distance blur now. Like it happened to someone else or it was actually a dream or rather a nightmare.
I don’t anticipate my relationship status changing anytime soon and have sort of accepted that I will be a forever singleton. I have decided that I no longer wish my single status to depress me and make me feel bad about myself.
I will accept that not being in a relationship doesn’t invalidate my existence. I always felt that being in a relationship did this as it gave me the title of “girlfriend”.
On February 14th, I am going to embrace the special day and make it all about me. I am going to use the day to acknowledge the progress I have made mentally in terms of my Borderline Personality Disorder and depression over the last five months and counting.
I am going accept the fact I am moving forwards for once instead of feeling like I am stuck or going backwards most of the time.
I’m going to find ways to massage my low self-esteem and self-hatred. I feel like I am finally ready to work on myself and improving my wellbeing. Hopefully this will improve my mental health and help me to start to love myself.
I’m going to pamper myself and get my hair dyed at college. It will help me start to feel happier about my appearance.
I am going to also treat myself to lunch at Wagamamas and order my favourite dishes Katsu chicken curry and Chilli Squid. I will not allow myself to be embarrassed about the fact I am dining alone.
If I feel up to it I will flirt with the cute waiter that works there. A spot of flirting makes anyone’s day.
I’m going to buy myself a lovely colourful bunch of flowers and put them in a vase on a shelf above my TV in my room. They will make me smile days after Valentine’s has come and gone. After all most flowers are now guaranteed for a week nowadays.
I don’t recall ever getting a bunch of flowers on Valentine’s Day from any of my previous suitors. I’ve had to be a spectator of my sisters and friends getting flowers on this romantic day for so many years.
The age of Facebook makes it worse as my news feed gets overloaded by photos of friends and their partner’s grand romantic gestures.
My first proper boyfriend did, however give me a pot of frost bitten roses from a garden centre. He left on my front doorstep in the middle of the night and when I found them they were half dead because of the cold night air.
They died within a few weeks and in hindsight I think it was a sign that the relationship was doomed. The relationship slowly unravelled after Valentine’s Day and we broke up a few months later when I found out he had cheated on me with a work colleague who he later married.
I’ve been bold and brought myself a Valentine’s Day card, which was a task and a half. Most Valentine’s cards are filled with romantic sentiments and declarations of love.
The shop assistant seemed amused when I took my chosen card to the till at Paperchase and told her I was buying it for myself. But when I explained my reasoning she thought it was a lovely idea.
It might take me some time to fill the card with positive things about myself. I am good at listing friends and family’s positive qualities but find it hard to list mine.
I will also list inside the card the positives of being single and not being in a relationship. To remind me how good I have it. Like the fact I can do what I want when I want and don’t have to share my bed with anyone who might hog the duvet.
Hopefully my Valentine’s Day card will return to me after I post it off and won’t get lost. When I open it on the special day I will put it up in my room for a week. Once the week is over I will keep it safe in my journal so I can get it out when I’m experiencing dark times.
When Valentine’s Day arrives if I feel sad about being single I will fill the void with knowledge that I am loved by my friends and family. That knowledge will keep me going every other day of the year. So Valentine’s Day will not different.
A few friends have told me that I need to learn to love myself before will find love again. I am starting to believe that they are right. Over the last few months I have found myself gradually liking myself and believing in myself more. Hopefully I am on right path to reaching my goal of gaining self-love.
When I do I hope I am destined to meet a guy who loves me for who I am inside and out and would never dream of changing me.
But for now, it’s HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO ME!
Wednesday, 5 February 2014
Wednesday, 15 January 2014
My niece Sophie and me
For most of the time I feel my life has been meaningless and directionless. It has lacked a sense of purpose. I often feel that I don’t make an impact and wonder why I even exist. I feel like I am constantly treading water. Waiting to see what happens next. But nothing ever does.
For the last few years I haven’t had a label attached to my name. I’ve not had a job title or been someone’s girlfriend for over four years. I’ve just been what I feel I always will be… A daughter, a sister and a friend…
However everything changed on the 23rd November 2011 when I was given a brand new role that I never really imagined I’d be good at. On this special day my sister gave birth to my niece Sophie Lily; making me an auntie for the first time ever.
A role that I’d never imagined taking to or actually being good at. I am not a maternal person. From an early age I’ve never had the desire to have any children myself. I am not the type of person to be worried about my biological clock ticking away. I think my clock biological clock is permanently on mute.
Throughout my sister’s pregnancy I was worried I wouldn’t be able to connect or interact with my niece or nephew when they were finally born because of my Borderline Personality Disorder and depression. I didn’t think I was up for the challenge of becoming an auntie.
I was convinced I would constantly let them down and not be what an auntie should be like. I had no clue about how to be an auntie as I was never really close with either of my aunties growing up.
But as soon as I first set eyes on Sophie at the hospital just hours after she was born, I instantly felt a connection with her and loved her so much. She was a part of my family; a new branch on her family tree. We would forever be connected.
I knew I wanted to be the best auntie possible. For the first time in my life I felt I was up for the challenge and felt ready to step into the unknown. Finally I had a purpose, to be the best auntie possible and not let her down.
It took me a while to feel confident about holding one so tiny as I was afraid of handling her incorrectly or making her cry by accident. She was so tiny and seemed so fragile. But when I did hold her, I loved it; watching her in my arms; making little movements and tiny snuffling sounds.
Each time I saw her I noticed subtle changes in her appearance. I looked forward to seeing how she’d grown in between visits. I loved watching her progress over the days, weeks and months; from being able to roll over, to crawling, to standing, to taking her first step to watching her confidently on her own. Once she was walking there was no stopping her. I felt so proud.
As she grow older our level of interaction increased. She started wanting to be picked up and played with. She would freely give me the best slobbery kisses and best hugs. When she started talking she couldn’t say Helen initially. So I was Auntie Helly, which always made me feel so loved when she said it.
She’s two now and even though she can say Helen, she still calls me Helly sometimes which makes me smile. She’s so independent and certainly her own person. Everything is now on her terms so when she does decide to give me a kiss or a hug it means the world to me.
When I’m struggling mentally and feel I’m surrounded by darkness, knowing I will see her at some point in the week keeps me going. Helping me hold things together and not letting my depression win. Seeing her always makes me temporarily forget whatever is weighing me down.
We even have our own little games we play together. Like ‘Where’s Sophie’ where I pretend not to be able to see her even though she’s right in front of me and start looking around the room for her. It usually ends with her wrapping her arms around my legs and screaming ‘I’m here!” We also enjoy a spot of peek-a-boo which we play in the back of my parents’ house or where we take turns hiding behind the side of her car seat.
Her unconditional love definitely turns my frown upside down. She is my natural anti-depressant. One of her cheeky smiles can send a surge of warmth and happiness through my body. I love coming home when I know my sister and niece are visiting. As soon as I open the front door I am always greeted by Sophie gleefully calling out ‘Helen!’.
In the past when I’ve been on the brink of despair, I’ve felt there’s been nothing holding me back. But since Sophie was born, I’ve felt she has anchored me, stopped me doing anything stupid that I couldn’t come back from. In a way I think she’s why I’ve made progress with my mental health over the last six months. She makes me want to keep fighting; to keep on going.
I want to keep living so I can watch her grow up and enjoy life. I want to always be a part of her life. Share all her milestones and create valuable memories with her that I will cherish forever. She makes me want to be a stronger and better.
I want her to grow up and be proud of her Auntie Helen.
For the last few years I haven’t had a label attached to my name. I’ve not had a job title or been someone’s girlfriend for over four years. I’ve just been what I feel I always will be… A daughter, a sister and a friend…
However everything changed on the 23rd November 2011 when I was given a brand new role that I never really imagined I’d be good at. On this special day my sister gave birth to my niece Sophie Lily; making me an auntie for the first time ever.
A role that I’d never imagined taking to or actually being good at. I am not a maternal person. From an early age I’ve never had the desire to have any children myself. I am not the type of person to be worried about my biological clock ticking away. I think my clock biological clock is permanently on mute.
Throughout my sister’s pregnancy I was worried I wouldn’t be able to connect or interact with my niece or nephew when they were finally born because of my Borderline Personality Disorder and depression. I didn’t think I was up for the challenge of becoming an auntie.
I was convinced I would constantly let them down and not be what an auntie should be like. I had no clue about how to be an auntie as I was never really close with either of my aunties growing up.
But as soon as I first set eyes on Sophie at the hospital just hours after she was born, I instantly felt a connection with her and loved her so much. She was a part of my family; a new branch on her family tree. We would forever be connected.
I knew I wanted to be the best auntie possible. For the first time in my life I felt I was up for the challenge and felt ready to step into the unknown. Finally I had a purpose, to be the best auntie possible and not let her down.
It took me a while to feel confident about holding one so tiny as I was afraid of handling her incorrectly or making her cry by accident. She was so tiny and seemed so fragile. But when I did hold her, I loved it; watching her in my arms; making little movements and tiny snuffling sounds.
Each time I saw her I noticed subtle changes in her appearance. I looked forward to seeing how she’d grown in between visits. I loved watching her progress over the days, weeks and months; from being able to roll over, to crawling, to standing, to taking her first step to watching her confidently on her own. Once she was walking there was no stopping her. I felt so proud.
As she grow older our level of interaction increased. She started wanting to be picked up and played with. She would freely give me the best slobbery kisses and best hugs. When she started talking she couldn’t say Helen initially. So I was Auntie Helly, which always made me feel so loved when she said it.
She’s two now and even though she can say Helen, she still calls me Helly sometimes which makes me smile. She’s so independent and certainly her own person. Everything is now on her terms so when she does decide to give me a kiss or a hug it means the world to me.
When I’m struggling mentally and feel I’m surrounded by darkness, knowing I will see her at some point in the week keeps me going. Helping me hold things together and not letting my depression win. Seeing her always makes me temporarily forget whatever is weighing me down.
We even have our own little games we play together. Like ‘Where’s Sophie’ where I pretend not to be able to see her even though she’s right in front of me and start looking around the room for her. It usually ends with her wrapping her arms around my legs and screaming ‘I’m here!” We also enjoy a spot of peek-a-boo which we play in the back of my parents’ house or where we take turns hiding behind the side of her car seat.
Her unconditional love definitely turns my frown upside down. She is my natural anti-depressant. One of her cheeky smiles can send a surge of warmth and happiness through my body. I love coming home when I know my sister and niece are visiting. As soon as I open the front door I am always greeted by Sophie gleefully calling out ‘Helen!’.
In the past when I’ve been on the brink of despair, I’ve felt there’s been nothing holding me back. But since Sophie was born, I’ve felt she has anchored me, stopped me doing anything stupid that I couldn’t come back from. In a way I think she’s why I’ve made progress with my mental health over the last six months. She makes me want to keep fighting; to keep on going.
I want to keep living so I can watch her grow up and enjoy life. I want to always be a part of her life. Share all her milestones and create valuable memories with her that I will cherish forever. She makes me want to be a stronger and better.
I want her to grow up and be proud of her Auntie Helen.
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