Some of my musings!

I feel trapped by circumstances which have shaped my life and career path since as far back as I can remember. I have never overtly rebelled against my parents, until now. They laughingly believe they haven’t forced me into anything and scoff at people whose children, in their opinion, have either been forced to do things or left to run wild. It has never occurred to them that they called the au pair agency and put me on the plane to France at 18. They were the ones who picked me up in Cardiff and arranged my work placement in London at the House of Commons and they were the ones who were insistent on giving me the cash to buy a flat so that I would get on the housing ladder. All these things were masterminded by them. I was distraught at not getting my A’level grades to do law and simply went along with their grand plan to go to France. The terror I felt remains with me today and it’s no lie that whilst being outside your comfort zone is a good thing, my year in Nancy was extremely traumatic. Losing a friend to meningitis and watching a family being domestically abused by the husband/father isn’t exactly a fun way to spend a year abroad!

I cried buckets when they drove me from my beloved Cardiff to go to London. They were insistent that I do it and again, the anxiety I felt for the first few months was immense. I left behind a boyfriend, friends, my beloved aunt and uncle and the first feeling of roots that I had ever had.

The flat too was there idea. Renting had never bothered me, but it did them. They then took hold of all the redecoration and did everything as they saw fit, irrespective of my desires. When I told them I didn’t want my dad and brother to do my kitchen and bathroom as I would use redundancy money instead, I was accused of being ungrateful.

So who’s to blame? Me, basically, I let them apron strings wrap around me and then refused to get out even when the warning bells were sounding. It was always easier to give in, ignore my mother’s outrageous outbursts and refuse to make a stance against their behaviour. I have no one to blame by myself and pretending otherwise would stop me making any changes. Being a victim is a choice. I have friends battling serious illnesses, coping with job losses and many other major life events and if they gave in and chose to be put upon, they would be giving up. I am not about to do that and if the path ahead is long and bumpy, the beautiful wooded scene at the end of it will be worth every minute of struggle.

The rot set in early, though – most specifically when I was berated as a child for not being sociable enough and forced to be outgoing and (in their opinion) friendly. They always had a massive issue with me being shy or (as they called it) ignorant. Fact was, I have never enjoyed socialising per se. There, I’ve said it. I now need to issue a series of disclaimers or risk losing a lot of friends!!!

As I get older and more at ease in my own skin, the necessity to be popular and busy has pretty much disappeared. I craved popularity when I was at school in order to please my mother, yet was firmly stuck on the bottom rung of the list of people that others wanted to be friends with! It was made quite clear to me by my parents that the bullies only went for me because I made it ‘easy’ for them as I was bolshy, overweight and dreary with specs and a gothic dress sense. Nice! All the above offended my mother and she made it her mission to try to change the hard and unpleasant edges.

I went on to university and discovered you could be yourself there and not please everyone, which was liberating in one sense but conflictual in another. I happily discarded friends from there who I felt didn’t actually fit with me and my ethics/ideals, rather than making things fit and compromising myself as I had done at school. But in my parent’s eyes that made me argumentative and marginal – they never approved of this and made it clear that I should be making friends with the right people rather than picking and choosing the ones I actually liked!!! In their world view it was all about networking and who you knew – you don’t dine with people who make you laugh or challenge your thinking. No, you choose people who were high up in the rugby club/golf club/Masons etc and if you don’t like them much, never mind as you can always slag ‘em off later!!!

I have always hated professional networking events, weddings, parties, large dinner parties, reunions, you know the sort of thing, anywhere basically where I had to mingle with strangers/acquaintances and make the dreaded small talk. I have excused myself from many but have equally attended a large number that I had no hope of getting out of. I have usually made a good fist of it and done my best to have a pleasant time; that said, getting drunk was always a great way of coping (not!) because oblivion made the chat much less painful! I’ve tried not to be a curmudgeon and have always gone to things with the right head on. Fact is, even then, I am always, without exception, relieved to exit and head to bed/home. Socialising wears me out – I have probably got a certain time limit, at which point any more is painful! It’s not that I don’t enjoy the company of friends, I have some fantastic ones, but I really do prefer to see them one on one (well, max two together!) Beyond that and I get prickly. It’s just me. It’s not about being rude or arrogant or superior but I am happy communicating with one person at a time. Even then, I still like to spread it out and see no more than 2 people a week. Any more and I start to feel vexed at the prospect of meeting up. Basically, I know my limits, I try to stick to them and will always go to events that matter to other people, who in turn treat my desire not to have a wedding party with respect. I love them and all their differences and I hope they love me and mine!!!