Scottish Independence – the Scots vote NO, Friday 19th September

Ok, so the BIG news of the week has been Scotland voting NO to Independence.  I’m shocked as they seemed to vehemently want independence.  The Scots get bucket loads of cash from Central Government, and get free university tuition fees as well as free NHS prescriptions, whereas we in “Lahndon” pay for these and more services.  Hopefully these costs will be more equally divided.

Whilst David Cameron promised the Scottish “more, if they vote no”, which the Scots now want redeemed, the election process seems to have woken the English up a bit.  The Scots desire less interference from Westminster (understandably, as current times have produced a predominantly rich, white, ex-public school upper class of MP’s – generally the Elite).  The Scots quite rightly feel that the working (and even the middle) classes, or in fact anyone living outside of Greater London aren’t being listened to.

English MP’s are also asking for their own autonomy in regards to who has the right to vote in matters which only affect England.

The British political landscape may be changing.  I hope so, as it needs a good shake up.

Protruding Proboscis

I remember seeing her on “I’m a Celebrity Get me Out of Here” last year (2013), and thinking poor cow, as even I found myself comparing her to the a-bit-of-an-idiot, but beautiful Amy Willerton, GB’s Miss Universe, whose only talent seemed to be having large breasts, a slim waist and looking good in a bikini.

On yahoo today, I read a feature on Rebecca Adlington, and all the “unconscionable abuse” that she has faced since rising to prominence as one of the greatest swimming talents Great Britain has ever produced.  Rebecca “Becky” Adlington, OBE “is a retired English freestyle swimmer. She won two gold medals at the 2008 Olympic Games in the 400 m and 800 m, breaking the 19-year-old world record of Janet Evans in the 800 m final” (Wikipedia). An amazing woman who showed commitment, trained hard and has two gold medals to show for it, and INCREDIBLY, she was only 19 years old.

To be honest, I only realized who she was when she introduced herself to the other “Celebrities”, and checked her out on Wikipedia. I don’t remember there being as much of a mad media furore for her as there was for Bradley Wiggins when he won two cycling golds, AND he was knighted.. Who knows, I can’t remember. All I do know is Bradley made most of the headlines, and he aint no Hugo Boss Model.

So Rebecca. A very talented young lady, who’s worked hard all her life and during those Olympics was the best, and yet, I remember her crying her eyes out because “I have never been a pretty girl..” and going on to explain that her nose has always been the subject of jeers, cruel comments and bullying.

It left me feeling fairly freaking flabbergasted. For a woman of such courage to still felt less than, because she didn’t feel beautiful or good enough next to ‘Miss Big Tits of the Universe.  An example of how women compare themselves to other women, how the only aspiration of so many young women nowadays, particularly in her age group, is to be a model, be beautiful and retain their youth at all costs. If they’re not, not matter how amazingly talented they are, they can still be made to compare-and-despair, and feel less than, particularly in the media. This more I hear about it, the more this attitude towards women appalls me.

Since I’m a Celebrity, she appears to have had a nose job, and is currently presenting the Commonwealth Games.

The Yahoo article continued, “..derided for her emotional, honest personality, decision to pursue a career in the media and – most objectionably – her looks, Adlington puts up with far more than any Olympic hero should be forced to endure. Her strength of character shines through in her presenting for the BBC at the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow, though. Engaging, charming and fun, she shows a great deal more enthusiasm than some of her colleagues during coverage of the World Cup in Brazil.

Michael Baker, himself an aspiring elite athlete, coach and trainer today tweeted: “Balding, Adlington and Foster fast becoming my favourite trio…”

I wish her all the best.

https://uk.eurosport.yahoo.com/blogs/world-of-sport/becky-adlington-glasgow-tears-draw-support-fans-205147813.html

Accepting and reaching out

So, earlier today, a friend announced to me and some other friends that she’s 14 or so weeks pregnant.  I congratulated he and gave her hug. I am really happy for her, she’s a lovely girl and I wish her well.

Honestly and more or less instantaneously, I felt like ripping her throat out and punching her face in.  Not the kindest thought or wishes, and I had to stand apart from the group for a minute and wait ‘til my thinking had come back to the present. I felt shocked and guilty for thinking that way. After all, she’s done nothing extraordinary, just got pregnant. It’s all about me, my head and my less-than-pleasant thinking.

My anger stems from having early menopause, which was diagnosed a couple of years ago. I’m 41 years old and my eggs are depleted. Menopause doesn’t usually affect women until they’re in their ‘50’s, hence why it’s called “early” menopause. I’ve seen gynecologists, and they can’t explain why it happens, so I can feel alone. None of my friends my age have been affected by it either, so the only women I can share with are in their 50’s which still makes me feel alone.

The longer that I’m menopausal, the more I think I’m accepting it, that is, until days like today when my friends happy news, triggers my anger and fears, and reminds me with her gently protruding bump, that I can’t do that naturally, and will never be able to do it without injecting myself with some other chicks’ eggs and paying for the privilege.

My periods had been regular as clockwork since I first started when I was ten. Yes, I was very early, the first in my class at Middle School, and one of only a handful of girls to begin growing breasts, which were generally poked at by the boys in the playground (and their obsession with them never stopped!). I’m very grateful that Mum took me aside when I was 9 years old for a girl-to-girl chat about periods in her bedroom. We sat on her bed and we read through a book that she’d bought called “Have you started yet?” and she gently explained what was written about periods if I didn’t understand, and what would happen to me physically, breasts, bleeding and potential cramps, although she explained that she’d never had painful cramps herself.

Unfortunately, there was no such talk for starting early menopause. I went to my GP, who assured me I was too young, but sent me for a string of blood tests, which confirmed it had begun. I changed GP, got referred to a gynecologist and began hormone treatment.

These negative feelings came up because a friend told us she’s pregnant and because I’ve had a grumpy day, particularly as I’m hormonal, which feels like adding salt to my open wounds. I need to remember that she didn’t get pregnant deliberately to piss me off.

Having early menopause makes me feel less feminine, less like a woman and abnormal, particularly in the current climate when women appear to be dropping sprogs left, right and centre.

I suppose the only thing I can do is take things one day at a time. 

I’m left wondering how many women there are in London going through this. It may well be time for me to find out and reach out.

 

Primani Porn

Last Sunday, 29^th June, I was walking down King St in Hammersmith and making my way to Primark, to pick up a bargain, a dress or a top to wear to work the following day. “Primani”, as it’s affectionately known, is fairly cheap and cheerful.

I usually have to be in a certain mood to go into Primark, as it’s always bustling with female shoppers. Even though it’s an enormous store, most of the clothes rails and shelves are packed tightly together, to get more in, but this makes it feel claustrophobic and I need to be on guard to avoid bumping into other shoppers.

Having picked a dress, I joined the queue. When I got to the front, I looked up and what I saw appalled me. The TV screen above the first cash desk showed two young skinny white models, who couldn’t have been more than 18 years old, dancing together in an overtly sexual way in underwear. That was it, just bra and knickers, and I was drawn to it. I don’t know which was worse; feeling regret because I’m no longer as young as they are, or the fact that they were dancing in underwear. I suddenly felt really embarrassed. I felt like a voyeur, spying on their private dance. I felt like I could have been watching a dance in a strip club, and not in a queue in a high street clothes shop.

Standing there, watching these young girls parade around in a sexy little routine made me feel sad for them and for women in general. These images make me feel less than, too old, not slim enough, and I’m getting sick and tired of the way normal women’s body images are negatively portrayed in the media. Unfortunately, these images are more and more the norm nowadays.

Later the same evening, I was watching “Bikini Body? The Truth About Diets”, 22:00 – 23:00, CH5. It explained how detrimental dieting and rigorous exercise can be, and how it can be used to try and obtain the skinny “body beautiful”. I lost count of the number of experts, physical trainers, doctors, journalists and scientists, all offering the same advice. “Too much exercise is wearing away our joints and turning us into premature pensioners.” It reported how when a Hollywood star or celebrity crash diets for a role, they have a crew of nutritionists and other experts advising them every step of the way. We mere mortals don’t have such expert support so we need to be responsible, and check what we’re eating and how we’re exercising, and look after ourselves.

“SheInspires”, is a new glossy magazine that I read about recently, whose aim is “to boost women’s confidence and help change their perception of beauty in our current celebrity obsessed culture. The magazine boosts women’s self esteem by not air brushing images or projecting unrealistic beauty expectations onto readers.” I thought about that whilst watching the teenage girls gyrate away in front of me. “SheInspires” aim seems to be kind and understanding, and allows women to be true to themselves, allows them to be who they are, and doesn’t ram false body size expectations down our throats. This is the first magazine I’ve heard of that’s brave enough to do this, and I really hope it takes off, as women need to give each other a break, and love ourselves for who we are no matter what we look like.