New life mantra: must have plan, must have plan. The media (here read women’s magazines) is saturated with women who have demonstrated the true meaning of multi tasking. They have deadlines and goals aplenty, and I’m not talking about avoiding Selfridges shoe department while being drunk. They take structured and purposeful steps up their career ladders, don’t involve themselves with men who can’t fit the designated criteria and know exactly when they will be getting pregnant, if they will indeed be engaging in that activity at all.
How is it then that I am perpetually caught up in the swirls and eddies of reaction? For example I have never purposefully taken a promotion; I have honestly just fallen into things without giving them too much thought. That includes relationships. Those moments – which some may call life – defining I fail to recognise so far immersed in the happenings of them that I am totally unable to see over the top.
Let us take for example the last serious relationship. Good God I gave that everything including my self esteem and musical taste. I swapped indie guitar for trance and techno, I frequented Walkabout more times than is socially acceptable. I went into classic needy girl mode, clambering for attention (positive or negative it really didn’t matter) and forgiving misdemeanours that were not just signs of a relationship decline rather bloody great flares. When I discuss that particular murky episode with friends, they will remind me of how they tried to pull me out, gave me the same straight talking that I pride myself on, but I literally couldn’t hear them. It wasn’t that I was ignoring them (which would require some sort of reaction), rather I floated about in a fog, one that deflected comments about the state of my relationship and to be honest emotional health. But I knew, I had known from the outset, before becoming a couple we had been good friends and (I will repeat for emphasis) I knew what kind of man he was. So why couldn’t I have followed a plan, had some ground rules, listened to my gut?
I tend to take life as it comes embracing the good and overcoming the bad, navigating the course as best I can. Don’t get me wrong I’m not OK with it, I fully admit to self delusion, ask any of my closest people and they will tell you all the times I make serious rules. Guidelines that I will never stray from, mainly related to chocolate and, again, shoes. But I’m too fickle to stick with them. My old flatmate and I swore blind we would never involve ourselves with men who had been divorced or had a child. I hardly need to tell you where this is heading!! Obviously I broke those rules , and the irony is I have never been happier. This is not to say that I still don’t envy those with cast iron willpower and a target sheet that would make the Conservatives cry. But I have to accept that sometimes taking a tumble with the fates and letting life carry you along can transport you to paths that would otherwise have been unconsidered. Sticking to closely to the plan can be about limiting your life and I guess that is just something I could never do.