Back to Day One 

Day 1 of the journey from Mad Girl to Made Girl:

I suppose I should start with a bit of history about my situstion. Sorry to bore you but bare with me please.

So for years, I’ve never felt quite normal. At first I thought it was just the awkward teen years. You know what’s it like, the acne, not being a part of the popular group, trying to actually pass exams whilst also trying to show you don’t care that much because you don’t want to be labelled a nerd or a geek  (a label I would love now!). Yeah well, I went through the emo phase of things, black skinny jeans, band tops, black hair with a mahussive side fringe which started from the opposite side at the back of my head. Oh the shame. Contrary to belief, not all Emos self harmed or were sad and crying all the time, we actually did smile and know how to have a laugh. I mostly got into the emo side of life because I loved the music. The screamo, the rock, the alternative, the pop punk, even some of the heavy metal. The music had feeling, had soul in my eyes.

However this look really didn’t sit well with my positioning at school. I went to a posh private school full of snobs and kids with parents who were too wealthy for their own good half the time. My parents spent everything they had on mine and my brother’s education and to this day I regret their decision for me. I wasn’t happy in that school and I don’t look back on my time there with fond memories. I haven’t come away with friends for life nor have I come away with a particularly good education.

Anyway bit off tangent. Where was I? Oh yeah, I didn’t fit in with my emo ways. I had bad days and good days even at this stage. I dabbled in self harming but nothing extreme. Just liked the thought that although I couldn’t control the situstion at school I could control how much pain I could take. (Sounds sadistic and weird but it made sense in my head!) Things were okayish up until 6th form. I mean I had grief from some students in the year above me, found my bag in a bin one day, and the odd name here and there and even the comments of how I was ‘naturally ugly’. How very kind, just what every 16 year old girl wants to hear from the popular boys that everyone had a crush on. 

In sixth form things escalated.  Somehow I become secluded from the friendshil group I had made during the first five years and it was just me and my best friend of four years left to defend for ourselves. Things became intense pretty quick. It was me and her. All the time. At first it was great fun. We had our own inside jokes, we could have a laugh, we had stupid nicknames for each other, we were literally in each others pockets 24/7.

Towards the end of the first year of sixth form things started to change. It was such a sudden, drastic change. It happened during the summer and things never returned to normal despite our best efforts. Our friendship had become all-consuming. It wasn’t a normal friendship anymore. It was a fanatical relationship. Unfortunately feelings got mixed and it just became a doomed friendship. It wasn’t healthy for either one of us.

In that summer, my best friend changed. I don’t know what caused the change but she became unwell. She wasn’t herself and it was scary to witness the change so sudden. The amount of pressure I was under with trying to look out for her, being there at her beck and call and trying to balance A Levels and University applications, I was struggling. I was all on my own. My parents didn’t understand and just told me to not let her behaviour have such an impact and just concentrate on school. Everyone at school only cared because they wanted to know the gossip between us and what the situstion was. No one wanted to help. No one cared.

At this point I couldn’t eat. I was too worried about my best friend. I was getting calls at 2 in the morning which were hard to hear and heart breaking. I hated seeing my best friend feel this way but there was nothing I could say or do to make it stop. Make it better. I so wanted to, but we both wanted different things. It just wasn’t our friendship anymore.

School finally got involved when they saw how thin I had got. I was always complaining I was tired. I was struggling to focus. I went to the doctor for a normal appointment and unfortunately I was weighed. I remember her look she gave my mum. She threatened me with hospitalisation if I didn’t start eating and looking after myself. That scared me. I didn’t want to go to hospital. But at the same time I was secretly grateful for the stress and lack of appetite. I was finally skinny. Protruding collar bones and hips, size 6 clothing was baggy on me. I didn’t feel beautiful but I felt I had control. I had control of my weight and what my body looked like. I couldn’t change my face but my body I could. And we all know boys like skinny girls – no they don’t! Most boys I know don’t care what a girl’s body looks like, it’s more about their personality that first attracts them, I mean a bit of bum or boob might turn their head as well but being stick thin isn’t what a boy wants. They want a girl with confidence in herself. A healthy glow. A personality. A thin, skeleton frame isn’t what they want. 

So that happened. I never really dealt with that issue. Nor did I deal with the pressure and worry I faced with my best friend. Fast forward a year and a half and I’m settled in at uni and although I am no longer in contact with my best friend. She seemed to be doing better and maybe that was because I wasn’t around anymore.

I was now in a relationship. My first proper relationship. That in itself wasn’t a healthy time. I gained a bunch of weight, wasn’t really into the relationship especially at first but I was so desperate to be loved I stuck with it. I hated the sex, we argued all the time. We were just vile to each other. The words we said and the accusations thrown. It was horrible. We soon broke up,  thanks to him doing this over twitter simply because I didn’t inform him who I was out with and I didn’t reply most of the night (tbf I was at a pub quiz and you can get in trouble for having your phone out! And I’m a goody goody and don’t cheat! Haha) After that we were seeing each other on and off throughout my whole time at uni. There was something drawing me back each time to him. He would drop me a message and I’d go running. I didn’t enjoy his company nor was I even attracted to him but as they say you keep running back to fools.

Second and third year (year abroad) at uni I became less and less the person I was in first year. After reinventing myself for fresher year at uni after the trouble at school I thought I was on a winning path but it seemed not. In second year I didn’t live with people I knew and had a very troubled housemate. I felt very much alone except for the odd appearance of my ex. Uni wasn’t as fun as it had been. I was struggling. My third year abroad was even worse. I was in a secluded area, living in a mouldy flat, knew no one and couldn’t travel anywhere as there wasn’t even a train station. I tried to make the most of it but instead I turned to over eating to comfort my worries and I soon found myself binging and purging. (Glamorous, hey? Year in a France and I turn to bulimia 🙈) I became so distant and astray that my parents even forced me to leave France and go visit my auntie in Jersey. Safe to say I wasn’t in great shape.

Fast forward to final year. Started off okay. But I soon found my binge and purge ways. It was great I had my own ensuite and could do what I want and when without worrying anyone would catch me. I went home that christmas as thin as I was at 18 and I had a complete break down on Christmas eve. I almost broke my arm and had bruises all over my leg from where I just attacked myself.  But like most things, my parents ignored my cry for help and just carried on as normal. Worst christmas day ever.

Since then I’ve been up and down sporadically. Growing more and more anxious, feeling like I was constantly on edge. Other times I’d have no emotion. I’d felt so empty and just wanted to disappear. Other times I just cried. Cried to myself in the safety of my room. I still had my binges and purges but they became harder as I moved back home but I still found my ways. I cancelled any meet up with friends and I became a recluse.  Until I finally met my boyfriend, F. He changed me. He gave me a reason to live my life again. He brought me so much happiness and the first few months were great. However, as always seems to be the case, when things are going great it is often too good to last. And it was. He saw my ups and downs. He didn’t know how to handle them. We almost broke up but I finally confessed all about my past and how I’ve struggled with it and never dealt with the problems. He said he would help. He loved me. He still does and he is still here supporting me but it’s not without its strains on our relationship. But I’ll do another blog on that later.

Now fast forward for the last time and we’re here! Yes, we’re finally in the present. I hope you enjoyed the brief history that is of moi, Not Quite Made Girl.

So yeah, always been slightly abnormal and a bit different and not always been the most conventional of people but last week something just broke inside me. It had been building up heavily for a couple of weeks. But I’ll save that for my next blog. You’ve got the history and I’m sure that’s enough to bore you for today.

Have a good evening.

Not Quite Made Girl x


M by Montcalm 

This is a bit of a new area for me. I’m not really one to stay in hotels in the Capital at the weekend. Nor am I to indulge in spas and free macaroons. However, on Friday night this all changed! I am no longer a sceptic and a cynic about staying in posh hotels and using their spa facilities. I’m now very much a fan!

Friday. End of a busy, first full week at work since starting the new job. It was the boyfriend’s birthday. He was turning the big 2 8 (does kind of have a good ring to it!) And it was our first year together celebrating his birthday, so of course I had to go all out. I had to make it one to remember. And what better way than to stay at his favourite architectural building in none other than Shoreditch. He’s a civil engineer so he has this fascination with buildings so who am I to deny him the right to enjoy his birthday eve in a beautiful hotel room?

Check-in is normally around 2pm but after a busy day and a drink after work, I met the boyfriend, after he followed my lovingly thought out clues 😉 outside M at quarter to six. There he was. Stood so proudly and excited outside this contemporary modern architecture. His great big grin said it all. He was chuffed to say the least.

M by Montcalm, Shoreditch

He grabbed my hand and after a quick embrace and kiss we strolled, or should I say skipped with excitement into the reception. To our right was a selection of bars and stools and an array of colourful armchairs. The variety and choice of all the various spirits was a beautiful sight to see. A shame that we were far too busy to experience this bar. Can always use this as an excuse to go back though, right?

We were swiftly met by a Bell Boy who politely insisted on taking our luggage whilst we queued to check-in. Whilst waiting, I clocked several touch screens placed within the mahogany coffee tables. The reception was the epitomy of elegant, modern and tasteful. The desk was black marble whilst the floor was shiny clean white. The most extravagant light in the shape of multiple 8’s entwined together sat delicately above. I could not quite believe that I was checking in. That I was allowed to stay and experience this masterpiece.

We were soon called over and up we trotted to the desk. I gave them my name but not before I was engulfed with an apology for the delay and a gratitude for waiting so patiently.  I was taken aback. We had barely waited a couple of minutes and I was far too in awe of the building to ever consider that I’d been kept waiting for a long period of time. I handed over my card. The amount was taken. The keycard  was given and we were officially one night residents!

The Bell Boy swiftly hopped to our side with our luggage, enquires after our room number and led us up to the nth floor in the mirrorless, black marbled lift. The doors binged open, we were greeted by the monochrome effect that was placed throughout the hotel. We walked through the doors and just to our right was our room. It had an electronic door bell, an electronic sign for room cleaning and even a digital do not disturb sign (We later found out this was all controlled via the iPads built into the wall in the room). So long to the days of the chewed up paper signs that were once hung upon the handle to ward off any disturbance.


The room. How do words do justice for this space? They simply don’t. The amount of technology placed throughout was extortionate. As one who isn’t keen on modern technology and has a track record of breaking several devices over the years, I couldn’t help but be amazed by the smart use of modern gadgets in the room. There were no light switches. Everything was controlled through an iPad placed next to the bathroom and one on either side of the bed on the bedside tables. You could turn the bathroom light on from your bed. You could change the colours of the mood lighting from blue to green to fuchsia! Turn the desk light on. Control the TV and Media Hub. Click on the AC and choose the speed of the fan and temperature. Gone are the days of the old fashioned thermostat awkwardly placed on the wall that no one was quite sure how to work. It wasn’t even necessary to get in and out of bed to open the curtains. This, again was all simply done at the touch of a button on the newly made buddy, the iPad.

As well 20170428_180653_editedas iPads, a TV almost the length of me was sat cleanly on the wall with a vast amount of channels to select from. The only niggle, is, my boyfriend claimed he couldn’t find a guide so had to individually select a channel to find out what was on (this was of very little nuisance to me. Just a male thing I think!)

The smell of the room was pomegranate which I selected at no extra cost when booking the room. I also could choose the pillows that our weary heads would rest upon that night. I opted for the hypo allergenic but the choice was numerous and quite a tough one to make. They accommodated to my request of that it was my boyfriend’s birthday. They originally offered complimentary pies and fruits. But both me and my boyfriend being gluten free, I politely declined the pies and said the fruit would be plenty. For M, the fruit would not be plenty. Instead they suggested and gave us macaroons (gluten free) with the fruit and a very cute balloon with Happy Birthday on in the corner of the room. It was very kind and generous of M to do this all complimentary. And the macaroons, well all I can say is, France watch out. M by Montcalm do the best macaroons on this planet 😍

After popping out to a Jimmy Carr stand up we were back to paradise. It was time to test out the shower. There was plenty of room for two (not that we tried) and the head distributed the water evenly and powerfully, (so there was no fighting over who would be under the water 😉).

In dire need of a cup of Rosie Lee, the kettle popped into action. This is where my one and only complaint makes an appearance. There was a variety of teas, ranging from peppermint to chamomile to English breakfast. Fantastic choice. However there were only two English Breakfast teas. Now this may not seem an issue to some but it posed a problem the next morning. After both of us enjoying the cuppa the night before we were stuck with nothing the next morning (I lie, I was okay as there was a very fancy Nespresso machine and four varieties of coffee pods brewed for your pleasure. This suited me very well the next morning, the boyfriend, not so much as he has a strong dislike for coffee). We did call housekeeping and were informed that it would be up straight away. We were on the top floor so we estimated 5 minutes to allow it to arrive. We each had our showers. I did my coffee. Dried my hair and still nothing. By this point there was no  point calling and requesting again as check out was fast approaching. So we left on a bit of a low.

I’ve jumped ahead of myself but that’s what a lack of tea does to order. Back to waking up the morning after the night before.

The next morning, at half 8 (more like 9) we donned on our bathing suits accompanied with the fluffy white dressing gowns left with the M emblem neatly sewn. We shyly made our way to the lifts, after all this was the first time we had experienced a hotel this fancy and going to the spa. We weren’t quite sure if this was the correct protocol (later turns out it was, although we forgot the slippers).


We timidly walked up to the reception in the spa and despite the receptionist being on the phone, we were kindly told the direction to relaxation. We popped our heads in the changing rooms and what cleanliness and space. We bagsied a chair with our dressing gowns and warily climbed the stairs into the pool. Initially it felt cold but after a dunk it was pleasant. There was a giant tap at the end. A goddess on the wall and even cucumber and orange infused water in the fridges.

The steam too  was perfect. I’m not a fan of steam especially for long periods of time but this was like no other. We stayed the maximum time before shuffling over to the sauna. 90°c heat greeted us as the door opened. Being typically British, the boyfriend and I lasted under 10 minutes. We showered under giant shower heads in a private cubicle before finally having a soak in the jacuzzi. Even with two other couples it was pleasantly comfortable. Just the right amount of bubbles and heat 👌

A quick chill on the chair with our infused waters and eyeing up the chillax room we decided we were running out of time before check out so headed up.

Showers had. Hair dried courtesy of the Babyliss hair dryer in the room. Make up on. Coffee stewed. I was ready for departure onto the next adventure. The boyfriend? Struggling to function without his side of tea that morning!

We checked out and as usual we were asked how our stay was. I couldn’t help but express my admiration for the place and the enjoyment, luxury and relaxation it brought but I had to also point out the mix up with the tea bags. I didn’t expect a place of this standard to be so stingy on this front. The receptionist? He couldn’t have been more concerned and apologetic. He offered to get us a drink at the bar Tonic and Remedy. Unfortunately we had to decline as our next destination and a spot for breakfast was calling us. I thanked him greatly and as hard as it was to decline a free bevvy, I felt that M had done all they could to rectify the problem. Yes, we never got the tea but a kind gesture was offered and I couldn’t ask for fairer than that.

It was sad to wave goodbye to this beautifully modern, technology based heaven behind. The luxury. The indulgence. It was everything I thought I would never want but after this memorable experience I will definitely try to treat myself to these experiences at least twice a year!

So how much did all this cost me?

I booked The M by Montcalm as a surprise. I booked it two weeks in advance and for 10% off their original price as part of their book early saver. I had looked at several hotels in the London area as I was convinced that the M would be way out of my bounds. I was wrong. Most hotels, even a bog standard Premier Inn cost around £115 a night and that’s not even in central London. M, the beautiful M cost me a mere £126. This might seem expensive to some but not to me. Not for near central London. In a beautiful building. Big rooms. The use of the spa facilities and just the general friendliness and accommodation of the staff. Yes, breakfast wasn’t included but most hotels these days don’t have all inclusive breakfast. But from what I saw a glimpse of on the way down to the spa, there was a vast variety for breakfast with picturesque views over looking the city.

Overall, M by Montcalm has set the bar high for any future city stays that come my way. I’ve been spoilt and greedily expect such luxury on a regular basis!

My rating: 4.5* out of 5.

*the tea bags really were the factor for the missing .5

Eureka! 💡

It’s been a while. I do apologise. Life has been happening as of late. And in a good way. Hallelujah!
In the words of the band Paramore:

Things are looking up
Oh, finally
I thought I’d never see the day

They really are looking up and for the first time in a long time, I feel generally content with my life and everything that I have. It has taken me a while to reach this point of realisation but I am so glad I finally have.

So many aspects of my life are going right. Things have fallen into place on the job front and with regards to my relationship with F, I feel we are both finally on the same page of understanding and happier and stronger than we’ve ever been. I don’t want to brag or rub it in everyone’s face, because that’s not the point of this blog. The reason I want to talk about the highs and happiness that I am experiencing at the moment is because I want to show that no matter how low you get or how much of a dark, lonely place you find yourself in, there is always light at the end of the tunnel, even if you can’t see it at that point of time.

Only a few weeks ago, was I at my lowest, not wanting to continue with life anymore. Believing that me and F were doomed for. That I would never get a job. That I would be stuck at home forever. That I would have to sit at home and look at the same four walls all day, day in, day out. I felt so distant from my friends, my family and F. I was so alone. So desperate. I wasn’t functioning. I shut myself off from the world. I stopped blogging. Stopped replying to those around me. I was at the point of just curling up into a ball and just disappearing. I couldn’t see any other way out. I didn’t want to continue living that way of life. The fear. The anxiety. The worry. The unknown. The uncertainty. The lows. The sadness. The questioning. The darkness. The thoughts. The helplessness. The desperation.

A few weeks later and I am in the best place that I have been in a long while. I got there. I got there mostly on my own but I had tremendous help from therapy with IAPT and also my wonderful other half, F. I have been so lucky to have had both of these supports over the last few months. They’ve not always known the full truth of how I have felt, or the actions I have taken, and they’ve not always fully understood the situation but without them, especially the love and care of F, I don’t know where I would have ended up.

Therapy taught me that my worries aren’t worth it. They’re mostly hypothetical. I can’t control them. There’s nothing that I can do that will change the outcome. Therefore there’s no point worrying and getting anxious about it. I’ve learnt to deal with my worries for half an hour each night when I have time to myself and decided how I want to deal with them and if there’s anything I can do to control them. If there’s nothing I can do then I just put it in the box and forget about it. I’ve learnt that when I am having a worry to concentrate on the details on an inanimate object next to me. What colour it is. The texture. All the fine details. That way I take my mind of the worry and focus on something else that has no impact on me and my worries.

F. Me and F. What a whirlwind the past few months have been for us. We almost broke up. I became so dependent on him. So obsessed with him. So needy for him that it was destroying us. I felt so much pressure from those around me and that of society with regards to mine and F’s relationship that I let it get in the way of me and F just simply enjoying each other’s company and being happy and relishing in that. We lost it. We lost us. We lost our jokes. Our easiness. Our happiness. I let my depression and anxiety intervene. I let what society expected get in the way.

These days, there’s so many pressures when it comes to a relationship. There are so many expectations. It seems these days everyone is in such a rush. They have to move in together. Get the ring on their finger. Get married. Have kids. There’s such a rush at such a young age. But when we rush into it all, what have we then got to look forward to?
Why can’t we simply enjoy just being two separate individuals, who enjoy each other’s company, love each other and want to spend time with each other without having to feel the need to confirm your love for one another with gestures such as moving in. Why isn’t spending time together enough anymore? Why isn’t that enough of a gesture? Why does there have to be so much more? We’re only young and I am so excited for the future with me and F. But for now, I am so content and comfortable with seeing him as and when I do, and creating fun memories and moments with him. I look forward to the milestones with him, but right now, this milestone of simply being in a relationship and happy is more than enough for me. For us. We’re happy. We’re on the same page (after a very awkward and public chat. Almost breaking up at a beer festival then sitting in the woods discussing every little thought and worry we had. But I am so glad we had that chat. That awkward, hurtful, upsetting moment. It finally got everything out in the open. We finally both understood each other. We both had a weight lifted off our shoulders. It allowed us to be us again. Us, who were so in love, so happy. So weird and always laughing. Going with the flow of life and enjoying it). We’re a happy couple who are living in the present and I wouldn’t wish for anything more.

I must confess. I finally started a full-time job two weeks ago. This has helped immensely with my recovery. It has offered me a distraction from my worries and my thoughts. It has given me something to focus on. Get up for each day. New challenges to face. New people to meet. A new way of everyday life.
I was so anxious. So sick at the thought of starting this job. I was worried about the interactions with new people. The routine. The getting up each day and getting out of bed. Having to plaster a smile on my face everyday and appear to be happy. But a few days in and I felt at ease. I loved the distraction. The opportunities that I was being given. The people I was working with. The excitement of each day.
I love it. And it has helped me feel human again. I feel I have a worth. I have a reason for being here.

All this put together has helped me more than words can express. I am so, so grateful. Life is a beautiful thing once you realise how precious it is. How many opportunities are surrounding you. The feeling of being loved by someone so greatly. Meaning so much to people. Having a role in everyday life. Having an impact on a business, a situation or a person. You can achieve it. You do have a purpose. You are so worthy and so deserving of a happy life. It just might take a bit longer than you first thought. But it will get better. Just please stick on in there and your endurance, determination, perseverance and patience will pay off. You are a strong person and you will get your time. Please, don’t give up.

Not Quite Made Girl



It has been a while since I last wrote on here and I do apologise for my absence, not that my writing is of any interest.

I’ve had a lot happen in the past couple of weeks and I’ve not known quite how to handle it all. I’ve been very high then very low. There hasn’t been a balance and it is throwing me off.


So I’ve had two face to face session and got my third on Monday. My first session was not at all to my liking. I found it very difficult to agree with what was being said and the techniques that I was being taught. I did do a blog post on my first session. I did take on board the advice and kept a worry diary between the two weeks of my appointments.

I understood how the diary could help. How me deciphering if my worries were hypothetical or practical would help me control some of the extent of my worrying. I understood and so wanted this method to work. I gave it a go. My best shot. I kept it for the first week roughly. I wrote down my general worries throughout the day. I knew what these were so they weren’t a surprise. I knew majority of them were hypothetical and there was nothing I could do but it didn’t help me or the worrying. I just had them written down instead of in my head.

My second face to face session. I broke down. I had had a bad couple of weeks between appointments. My tablets were changed and before that I just felt generally low. I told my therapist about the past weeks. What had been bothering me. What I had felt. What had happened. All I was told was that my next appointment would be in a week and I’d be taught techniques to deal with the lows. And apart from a quick run over of my worry diary and some brief explanation of a new worry technique of only allowing myself to worry for half an hour at about 7pm that was the end of the session. 

Third session was even more rushed and unhelpful. It was barely 20 minutes before we said our goodbyes and I was out the door. No techniques to deal with the lows. Not a lot was said except the next session might be my last. 


I was taken off my Prozac and put on a different tablet because the Prozac was not doing anything. This new tablet, I’m really not a fan. I don’t feel comfortable on it at all. I’m worried it is slowing my reactions down. That it’s making me gain weight. That it’s making me very high then very low. I hate it. I’ve stopped taking it because I’m convinced it is more harmful than good. Probably shouldn’t just stop all medication so abruptly but at the end of the day if I’m not comfortable with it then I’m going to stop. I felt it was really messing with me. I felt spaced out at times. Felt weird. I haven’t taken it since. 

I’m struggling. Really struggling. I’m so low. But I don’t want to restart taking the stronger tablets again. I can’t get an appointment for a month and even then it’s not with my normal doctor. I can’t get an evening appointment either so I’d either have to have half a day at work and take the morning as holiday or just forget it and hope I sort myself out. 

Well for once I’ve got quite a bit to write about on this section. I’ve finally had a bit of luck. I’ve finally been given a chance.

A couple of months ago my auntie sent me a text telling me that her best friend’s son told her to get me to send him my CV so he could pass it on where he worked to see if anything was going.

I was in a very low place when I got this text and completely blanked it and ignored all existence of it. Then about a month or so ago me and F were out with my Auntie having drinks to celebrate her birthday and she mentioned the text. I tried to change the subject but F was already hooked on the conversation. He was adamant after hearing about the company that it would be a great opportunity for me. So long story short he kept asking and asking me if I had sent my CV off.

Long story short, after three interviews, I was offered the job. At first I was kind of excited then I didn’t really know what to think, then I was excited again and then I got anxious. Sickly anxious. Which didn’t go too well with my already low mood. 

All through the process I’ve been very up and down about the situation. A bit excited. Anxious. Worried. Panicked. Happy. Sad. I felt all emotions through it all. 

I had my first day this week and by the evening I was snuggled in bed in tears. There was nothing particularly wrong with my first day and the people are lovely but I just don’t feel mentally or physically ready for this all. But maybe once I get into the routine of it all I will start to feel better. Once I’m fully emerged in my role maybe I’ll feel more human again. 


Well the next topic was going to be about how me and F were getting on but I already covered that in my previous post:

Im just generally exhausted with everything at the moment. I don’t know how I’m feeling from one minute to the next. I don’t know if I’m ready for life and everything it involves. I’ve got no choice but to be but I just sometimes wish I could curl up and maybe not exist for a while. 

Not Quite Made Girl 


Hot ‘N’ Cold 

In the words of Katy Perry:

You’re hot then you’re cold,
You’re yes then you’re no,
You’re in then you’re out,
You’re up then you’re down. 

Yes, Katy, you said it best. You’re been preaching it right for the past 9 years. It seems you have a good way with words.

So, what is Katy Perry doing in my blog? Well I was sat in bed with F the other day, I say sat, I mean half dozing, when suddenly this song came to mind. I know, out of all the songs out there and the tunes I listen to, I get a throw back to my early teen years. 

After singing it in my head multiple times I came to realise it actually resonated with me on a certain level. 

At first I thought it was to do with F. To describe him at times in our relationship. One minute he’s so expressive and loving, the next, a bit nonchalant about us. But the more I thought about it during this past week (I couldn’t stop singing it or get the tune out of my head, Okay?!) I realised that it was speaking more to me. I know, how can a song speak to you? Well it just did. It just perfectly described my emotions especially of those the past year. 

I am very up and down. Very hot and then cold. Very in then out with things.  Especially the past month or so. 

A lot is happening for me personally job wise. I’m finally starting a ‘proper’ job, as everyone calls it, on Monday in the city. I was excited but now I just want to cry and hide. The closer I’m getting to Monday and starting the more scared and sick I’m feeling. I don’t want to go. I don’t feel ready to be out in the big wide world. I don’t feel ready to be in a 9 to 5 routine 5 days of the week. I still can barely bring myself to get out of bed some days. How am I going to cope with working life? The fear of a panic attack is becoming more and more of a reality but I have to hide this from work. I can’t show them this side. I’ll have to learn to put on the persona that I’ve created everyday and ensure that smile and confidence shines.

As well as the job front I’ve come to a very personal and harsh reality. I’m no good for F. I have never been good for him and I never will be  I’m too up and down, and too hot and cold for him. He tries his best but why should he have to? He can’t continuously worry about me and keep asking me how I am. It’s not fair on him. 

I have also realised that I’m far, far, far too dependent on F. I was getting in too over my head with him and our relationship. I

*interlude music*
Automated voice: Hold the line please

Sorry about the interruption. The day that I wrote this post, well started to write it, was the day that it all finally got too much for me. I had another mini breakdown (woo, go me! That’s two breakdowns in the space of a couple of months, therapy is going well as I am sure you can all tell!) and it was quite possibly the worst time to have a breakdown, especially around F.
We had had a lovely weekend with his friends up in the Midlands. Well I say we did, but all weekend and week I had been feeling.. odd, I suppose is the best way to describe it. As I was saying before it all erupted in this post, was that I had realised I was getting far too involved with F. I wishing for too much with him. Wanting too much from him. Wanting and envisaging too much that future that I hope for. I wanted it sooner rather than later and I just have the gut feeling that F is very much not in the same place as me.

After Sunday night at F’s, the next morning I felt different. It was like I had an epiphany, a realisation at how I was feeling. It was like I was seeing me from the outside. It was a reality check. A much needed one. I really distanced myself from F all last week. I barely texted him. Didn’t check my phone to see if he had messaged. Didn’t hope to meet or even organise to see him. It was odd. But I managed it.

What I’ve realised now is that I was actually sabotaging our relationship. I was trying to make myself fall out of love with F. I was trying to force him to end our relationship. Why, I hear you screaming?! Well, quite simply put, I know it will come to an end sooner or later, so why let myself envisage a future. Why did I think I deserved a chance to be happy? Why should I have a partner that I can see spending my life with? Why do I deserve to be happy with this one person? The short answer is no, I believed I didn’t deserve to be happy, to have a long term relationship, to have that one person I can turn to. I thought, like most, he would walk away after leaving such heavy footprints in my life. I didn’t want to face losing him down the line. I don’t think I would cope. So I decided to sabotage our relationship and distance myself.

This failed. Of course it failed! But it all had to come pouring out on our car journey home when we were stuck in a confined metal tin that is a car in boiling heat for almost three hours! It all started over something silly: me leaving my ring at his friend’s house. I won’t go into it but long story short, we fell out and got stroppy with one another. I got so claustrophobic and panicked in the car that I insisted he pulled over at the nearest service station. And queue the breakdown haha! Outside a McDonald’s in front of a good few people I just broke. I cried. F was having none of what I was saying to him. We were still arguing about me leaving the bloody ring at his friend’s and us having to drive 2 minutes back to get it! For me there was so much to it. I half wanted to end it with F. I had felt I wanted to end it half the weekend. Not because I didn’t love him anymore but because I didn’t want to continue letting myself get in deeper with him when we might not both have the same hopes for the future. I kept my distance each night in bed, I wouldn’t allow my skin to even touch his. It was ridiculous, but for some reason it made sense in my head.

After much, backwards and forwards, F finally wiped the tears from my cheek and listened. I told him majority of everything that I was worried about. What I had been doing all week. How I was sabotaging us. How I was trying to convince myself I didn’t love him anymore. How I wanted to end it all now with him instead of him ending it down the line. I got a lot off my chest. We spoke about my depression and anxiety, all whilst we were sat in McDonald’s car park in the car! I told him just how low I get. How it feels for me. How this is a long term thing. It is something that will stay with me for life. I will have episodes but I will hopefully learn to handle them better. He seemed to understand. He couldn’t understand how I thought we were going to break up down the line. He finally heard a lot of what has been on my mind and what I want him to know.

There are still a few topics which are out of bounds to talk to him about. And maybe one day I will finally disclose them. Maybe one day he will be that bit more open with me. Be that bit more understanding and not jump to criticism of himself or of me as quick. He will hopefully realise that he does make me happy even if he believes that I am suggesting he does things wrong. He’s a good egg and I love him. There’s so much I want to share with him, and I will in due course. I hope this was just the start of many truths and honesty being spoken. But maybe with less scorching, claustrophobic and public setting next time, please?

Not Quite Made Girl


P.S. sorry Katy Perry, this post kind of went on a tangent from your song, but the idea is still there and well, I’m still a lover of this song so I’ll continue singing to it! 



Day 30: Write about anything you feel like today

I have lacked a bit at the end of this March 30 Day Challenge. I do apologise. The topics were a great way to get me back into writing but sometimes I just couldn’t write for each day. I tried my best to catch up later down the line, but I don’t think anyone generally reads the posts that I have posted for this challenge so I don’t think anyone is missing out.
It was a great challenge and I liked reading the other posts of those who were taking part. So thank you to B for creating such a well thought challenge and getting us all writing something different.

Day 30: Complete ✔️

Not Quite Made Girl

If you want to join in go check out Thebitsandbobsinmybrain blog. The more the merrier!


Day 27: Seven things you think about a lot

  1. The future: Who will be there? Who will I know? Where will I be? Will I have achieved what I hoped to achieve? Will I be happy? Will I be in love?
  2. Love: Fears of being alone. Fears of being dumped. Understanding what love is. Learning the different kinds of love that people offer. How do I show my love? Do people know I love them? Do others really love me or just put up with me?
  3. Money: Will I have enough money this month? I want to do this but my money is low. Always ensuring I am never in debt with anyone. Always insisting on paying my way even if I am struggling with money. Have I got enough money to pay for this night out with friends? Will they think me a bore if I decline the invite because of money? Will I ever earn enough to move out? Will I be able to buy my own house one day with the money I earn?
  4. Those around me: What do they really think? Do they really like me? What are they up to? What goes on in their lives? What don’t I know about them? Do they think I am weird? How much can I trust them? How long with they stay in my life for before they walk away? Is there such thing as true friendship?
  5. How I’m feeling on the inside: Do I really feel anything? What’s the point in life? What is the goal? Where will I be in 10 years time? Why do I feel the way I do? What am I living for? Am I truly happy? Why am I sad? What is going on in my head? What triggers these lows and highs? Will I ever snap out of this? Will I ever be able to cope with it?
  6. Privacy: How much should I share with people? Do people really want to know everything because they care or because they are nosy? How much of our lives is private? Do we share too much?
  7. Food: What’s for dinner? What can I eat? I’m hungry. Food, Food, FOOD!

Day 27: Complete ✔️

Not Quite Made Girl

If you want to join in go check out Thebitsandbobsinmybrain blog. The more the merrier!


Day 25: An in depth description of your body and what you like about it

My body is one of my biggest hang ups. I am never happy with it. Never happy with what I see looking back at me in the mirror. I’m always trying to improve it. Trying to get thinner. Trying to get more athletic. Fake tanning cause I’m so pale.

I’m slightly taller than the average height for a woman of my age and origin. People say I have an athletic/lean build. Long legs. Short torso. Longish arms because my torso is so short.
I have naturally light brown/dark blonde hair but I am forever dying it so at the moment I have dark brown roots and a blonde ombré. Blue eyes which are blue blue in spring and summer and greyish blue in winter and autumn. The one thing I do like about my body is my nose. It is quite petite and “cute” and button like. I have it pierced and often wear a tiny diamond stud. I have full lips and a whole set of teeth. People forever comment on my smile and how “pretty” it is. But I hate it. I hate how my teeth look and how full my lips are. I am forever covering my mouth with my hand.
Talking of hands, I have very long thin fingers and quite big hands over all. I blame the years of playing piano as a child for the length!
I don’t think anyone is every truly happy with their body and find it very hard to describe or talk about it. We all see something completely different in the mirror to what we are told that others see. I hope there’s a lot of people out there who don’t fit into this and are so happy and contempt with their body because they should be. It is a beautiful thing and our temple for life. It is up to us to love it and look after it. It will go through everything with us and go everywhere.
I wished I learned to love my body more and was happy with it. But the reflection in the mirror or pictures is never to my satisfaction and until it is I will forever be working on changing it.

Day 25: Complete ✔️

Not Quite Made Girl

If you want to join in go check out Thebitsandbobsinmybrain blog. The more the merrier!