When I am on my driving lessons, my driving instructor (who lives around the corner from me and has done for the whole of my lifetime and probably many years prior to that) often points out people who he knows, chats about the various people who have lived and continue to live in certain houses and streets, and talks about life in Kingswood in general. Most of the time, I can only nod my assent because I have no idea whom or what he is talking about; I only know the names and faces of the people who live within 3 doors of our house and across the road from it. On the odd occasion that I am walking around the local area, I could quite happily walk past people who live on my street without recognising them. This street is not and has never been a community to me; my town is just a place I live, and although it’s adequate (I like the fact that unlike other, more wealthy areas of the city, it doesn’t have a ‘grey’ atmosphere and I can see the sky – I’m not a total urbanite then!), I don’t feel any sense of community with the other people who live there; in fact, I feel like more of an alien (and with my dress sense, I look like one too). I must add that I will stick up for where I come from, despite its chavvy, slightly dangerous reputation; I did get slightly offended by a comment made by one of the people on my careers guidance course at UWE; being a graduate of Spanish and French, I was asked “But in Kingswood, you don’t get an opportunity to practise your languages, do you?” This comment was accompanied by a smirk; I took slight offence because although it’s true that where I live is not a cultural hub and I don’t meet many people who are multi-lingual there, Kingswood is not formative of who I am. Moreover, it’s not a bad place, and given that the area of Bristol that this person comes from is more renowned for crime and poverty than mine, it’s somewhat hypocritical and condescending.
Anyway, I went to Peterborough to spend the weekend with Toby last weekend, and I had a wonderful time, but I noticed that for him, life and his sense of community is different: he knows all of the people who live in his close and a lot of those who live in his village. He went to school up the road from his house; he can point out many people in the photographs included in the local Parish News (I am unaware of Kingswood having a Parish News leaflet, or any kind of worthwhile community publication). It is interesting that I cannot do this. I always went to school on the other side of the city, because my parents paid for my education and decided to send me to those schools (and based on my subsequent track record and academic success, I can’t quibble with their decision – it was pretty wise and with hindsight I would now have done the exact same thing). When I went through a brief phase of playing with the family of girls who were my age and lived across the road from me, they had a group of kids who lived in the neighbouring streets as their friends: I knew none of these people because they all went to the same school down the road from our house; I went to a private school across the city. We had different school holidays, different teachers, different friendship groups, different subjects. In retrospect, that was most definitely for the best but at the time it felt like I had to work extra hard to fit in with them. Despite living across the street, it was like I was visiting another world, their world, every time we would play together, and after a couple of years the visit wouldn’t be worth it, and we would just say hi without animosity as we occasionally passed each other on the street.
However, whereas Toby can name all of his neighbours and various people who live in his village (and I also understand that part of this is the difference between city / country-ish mentalities), I enjoy my popularity when I wander round the Bristol city centre – Mike commented once on a shopping excursion that it seemed as if I knew at least one person in every single shop (and there are a lot of shops). This is an exaggeration of course, but not a massive one; I like shopping and I used to work in retail in that area, therefore my face is recognised in the area and I can recognise acquaintances who work there too. An amusing story is the Guess Boutique – whenever I go in the staff are extra-happy to see me because they still remember the time Toby & I went in and I fell in love with a bag that I could not afford; Toby & I left and I spent the whole of that Friday night babbling about the bag. Saturday lunchtime we returned to the store and I bought not only that bag that I had originally claimed was “too expensive” but also a hoodie to boot (it was on sale, there was only one and it was in my size, it was black and gold which are my colours – it was obviously fate so who am I to stand against destiny?). I don’t know if the staff there work on commission but I think that that day, they were very happy! So I make friends in shops. My friends who live in Bristol may have gone to school or university with me, but we came from all different parts of Bristol (and their experiences of commuting to find a community may be quite similar to mine) so urban centres, shopping districts, cafés and cinemas are our meeting points.
My point is, I have my own community of people whom I call my friends; friends are the family you can choose, as they say. However, my friends are all dotted about the city (and beyond that, the country); the way we keep in touch is via telephone, email and internet most of the time; and when we want to meet in person, it’s got to be an arranged thing rather than a spontaneous wander down the road. Although it can feel slightly isolating living where you have no real connection to anyone else in the immediate vicinity, it’s made irrelevant by the fact that I can speak to and arrange to see a lot of my friends within very little time; and that my friends are so, so good to me. I think that having my own space is something that I value too; at the end of the day, I can retreat to my home and have a little time for me, safe in the knowledge that I’m not going to bump into or be harassed by anyone who knows me. I can be anonymous, think independently, live as I choose without any fear of anyone whom I care about judging me. I know that in Kingswood, I dress differently, I wear different clothes, I speak and think differently to the majority. I would never change that; I like being my own person and I won’t ever change to conform (a hard lesson that built my character during my school years). But it’s made easier when I’m surrounded by people with whom I have absolutely no desire to fit in. My community, the people whom I love and value, are my friends; my community is not local but instead city-wide, national, and one day I hope it will be global.
I haven’t written in a week, and that’s because I don’t really know what to say. I don’t just want to write album reviews because that’s just one facet of this site. I just don’t know how to word how stupid, how complacent I have been, and yet how much I have overthought things and let my overthinking nearly ruin my relationships (both friendships and romantic). And yet, I’ve been so lucky, because I’ve realised in time, and I managed to put aside my pride, my severe need for independence, and let someone else in. I’m so lucky because I am with somebody who realises my problems without me necessarily saying anything, and he is willing to stand by me while I work on myself and work it out.
Nobody is perfect, and I’m pretty hard on myself. Everyone says that, and I suppose that it’s true. But I think it’s so illogical, so backwards that I can love other people and yet I can’t love myself? How does that work? I do love aspects of myself, but I also hate things about me. I guess that’s normal, but the things that I hate seem to throb, vibrate and I constantly am aware of them. I guess that as I get older, I’ll learn to accept these things and feel them less vividly, but I don’t understand how someone can love me with all of these faults that I have. So on the one hand, I cover up any weaknesses and portray myself as sociable, confident and outgoing, so that nobody will know that I have these weaknesses. Sometimes I can even trick myself into believing that I am this way. And yet on the other hand, I find it so hard to let anyone get truly close to me, lest they see who I really am and go running a mile. Pushing people away has been easier for me, and I finally realised that I have someone so precious that I don’t want to push away. So I am learning to let him in, because I do love him. I just feel so stupid that it got to the point where I could nearly have lost him to really wake me up and finally allow him to see me for who I am.
That’s why I feel so stupid and yet so lucky. Looking at my family, thinking of my past, I shock people when I tell little stories about the emotional abuse I endured growing up. Things that are nothing compared to the atrocious things some people suffer, but which niggle my brain and fold into my subconscious until they are a part of me. I shudder when I recognise parts of my mother’s personality becoming more blatant within me. Mike and Toby both laugh, but I know that they are surprised… adding up why I am the way I am, impressed that I seem to have made it out more or less ok, confused as to how it all happened to me. And when they tell me things about them, I guess that I go through the same process. Getting to know someone, not just the good but the bad too, is a cautious evaluation that involves trust on both sides. And I’ve finally learned enough to know that if I chose to be alone this time and forsake someone who seems to offer me everything I could need for the sake of independence and security, then I truly would be stupid. I’m glad to say that I’m not that stupid anymore. 🙂
Love is risk. Misery can be like a pillow, so comfortable and familiar. If Toby is brave enough to reach out his hand to me and offer me a way to happiness (and this whole year has taught me that I can be happy, that I deserve to be), then all I have to do is push my way up through my own fears and insecurities and take it. That was really scary, but I did it. I am with him now, and it feels really good to open myself up to that feeling. I think I can make it, and I think that life will be good. Looking at my family again, I don’t want to have a relationship where there’s constantly drama and sadness and questioning. I know that a certain element of that is inevitable, but when it takes over the joy of being with somebody… I don’t need that. I don’t want to end up like that. After all, like I said in a previous entry, not everyone gets the chance for love. I have that chance, and all I have to do is take it. So I’m taking it. Deep breath, here we go. I am truly, truly lucky.
Peep the new video to Nivea’s newest song, “Love Hurts”.
I am a fan of Nivea’s music, because she seems to have some artistic control, she has a strong pen game, a lovely voice and most importantly (for this blog entry at least), she wears her heart on her sleeve. She has her fun club songs, swagger and confidence songs, but she also has love songs that seem to express from the heart her emotions (check “Complicated” and “ILY”). This new track is no different. What strikes me about the song and particularly about the video is how fearless she is in confronting her imperfections, her indiscretions and her pain. By getting Lil’ Wayne (her ex and babyfather) to star in the video as her love interest, she’s vividly bringing to life her regret. There’s no subtext – only text. Personally I don’t know how wise it is to be so utterly open with your conflicted emotions and reliving your love found and lost for all to see, but it’s undeniably brave and makes for compelling reading and listening.
I remember when I started my course at uni and I told a couple of people that I had some of my music on myspace. One of them who went and listened to it said that he was really surprised how deep the lyrics were for someone of my age. I think part of it is to do with my upbringing, seeing my parents constantly battling, going back and forth between love and hate, raging arguments that occasionally got quite violent. As a child, it was a lot to handle and I don’t think that it’s something that ever leaves you, although I also readily acknowledge that many people go through a lot worse. But that was more than enough for me to handle. I think that being taught from an early age that “love is pain” is a realistic but not particularly healthy lesson to learn, and I often wonder how I ended up as seemingly well-adjusted as I have! *insert laughter here* I think that’s why I’ve often had tortured feelings for people I can’t have, why I blatantly have control issues (being conscious of power games), daddy issues and have emotionally attached myself to older, bad-boy style men, and why I was so nervous in starting my current relationship. It took me about a month and a half to really see and appreciate how lucky I am, how wonderful my boyfriend is and to learn just to breathe, take it easy and start to be open to him about my vulnerabilities, my flaws and all.
Who knows what will happen in the future? But right now, I am learning that although sometimes love does hurt and has hurt me in the past, it doesn’t always have to be that way. Love can lift you up, and should lift you up more than it tears you down. If I were either of my parents, I would have gotten divorced. But although as a child I prayed for that nightly at times, I am glad that they didn’t and I admire their strength of commitment even though I still wholeheartedly believe that if it were me, I wouldn’t have deemed it worth it to go through what they went through. But my parents’ relationship is not really any of my business – it’s between them and I can only complain when their shit affects me (which I do, when appropriate). When does the point come when you put yourself first, your sanity and your heart? Watching the above video, I wonder if Nivea has really started putting herself first or if she’s still in the midst of an emotional battle and a broken heart? It is compelling viewing and listening, but it also really makes me think and I wonder if heartbreak and anguish is something a singer has to go through in order to really be able to write heartfelt lyrics and lend vocal credence and soul to singing those lyrics. I guess that that’s why I had that feedback (and received comments on my lyrics and vocals throughout my singing ‘career’ to date) from my songs on myspace. To me, my lyrics can and will get deeper as I continue to write and record, and my voice is edgier and more soulful live than it is on record. (Those are my shortcomings with the technology, which is a constant work in progress!)
In short, I (like Nivea, I suppose) wear my heart on my sleeve, feel pain and am glad to be finally learning to appreciate love without the hurt that has come with it in the past, both in what I’ve experienced and also what I’ve learned from those surrounding me. I wonder if however, Nivea is torturing herself further by putting herself back in the situation with having Weezy in the video. For me, that reenactment would rip me apart inside. However she manages to keep it together, she’s a braver person than me and I salute that commitment to artistry and to baring one’s soul.
For my final blog post of the year, like I said, I’m not going to attempt to give a run down of my 2009. I’m never very good at that and I either misfocus and weigh certain events too heavily, or completely miss stuff out. However, in trying to cast my mind back, I’ve learned a lot this year. Here are some of my lessons learned:
Just because they’re related to you by blood doesn’t mean your family will always love you or care about you. Love is not the same as obligation.
Trusting your own motivation can lead you to places people never thought you could go. That’s their limited imagination, not yours.
People whom you thought were your friends can turn around and stab you in the back. It’s not your fault and sometimes you can’t see it coming.
Someone who might initially appear to come from a different walk of life could become your best friend.
There’s nothing wrong with spending money on yourself, as long as you have the money!
People should focus less on telling you what you shouldn’t do and more on accepting you for who you are. Chances are, you already know better than them what is good/bad for you, and being reminded is both condescending and unhelpful.
Life is open plan, and there’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ path; all we can do is follow our hearts and intuition as much as possible, and do what is ‘right’ for us. That way, at least we have total ownership of our mistakes and our successes.
Marriage doesn’t change who you are, your sex drive nor whom you find attractive.
You’re never too old to fall crazy in love. You can’t help your feelings, and there’s nothing wrong with having those feelings.
Usually, if you want to do something on a computer and you can’t work out how, there is some technician who has wanted to do it before you and subsequently invented a solution to your problem. Google is your friend.
Don’t decide to up and learn a new language and consider emigrating on a whim.
Never give up hope.
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Thankyou all for your support of this blog, my music and everything else this year! I really appreciate it and I wish you all a fantastic New Year’s Eve (let’s go party!) and a fulfilling 2010. Here’s to the future!
☆ I am... chase. ★ 