ON CONFIDENCE - Nothing good rhymes with Charlotte

Hit the f*ck it button: On finding the courage to just do it anyway

13/08/2017 by Charlotte 2 Comments

One of my very best friends uses an excellent phrase that I’ve been adopting more and more in my everyday life.

She calls it ‘Hitting the f*ck it button’.

You do it when you’re just DONE. Done worrying, done being afraid, and done doing what you think everybody expects you to do. You hit the f*ck it button and find the courage to see where it takes you.

And mate, it’s a great button. I encourage you to bring it into your life.

I realise I’m using it every time something SCARES THE LIVING SHITE OUT OF ME but I do it anyway. Let me give you some examples of where it’s really come in handy.

This one time, I met my husband.

I was NOT in the mood the night I met Leon. But it was a friend’s birthday and the last night of the second year at university so, sure, I went out. My friends had been telling me how great this guy was for ages and I remained cynical. I’d met guys before and they’d not always been so great. But BOLLOCKS TO IT, I thought, I can say hi. So I walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder and said hello. Such behaviour was profoundly out of character for me, but I’d hit the button. I had nothing to lose and, as it turned out, absolutely everything to gain.

Another time, I buggered off to Australia for a bit.

Two years ago, my husband had the opportunity to go and work abroad for a few weeks. And I was just about to be between jobs so I decided to go with him. It felt insane as I didn’t know what I’d do when we got back, but when else were we going to go to AUSTRALIA? I rang my friend – coiner of the ‘f*ck it button’ – to ask if it was a good idea. She said “Well, you rang me, so you’re clearly looking for a yes because OBVIOUSLY that’s what I’ll say”. (Isn’t it funny how who we choose to go to for advice tells us everything we need to know about the advice we’re looking to hear?). So I found the courage, hit that button and I went. And it remains some of the most fun I’ve ever had.

We decided to try and have a baby.

If you thought too much about having a baby, I swear nobody would ever do it. Like, if you really considered in detail the likely pain and discomfort and the lifetime of WORRY, how would anybody find the courage? So, this is where the button comes in handy. I knew we wanted to have a baby (and that we were in as good a position as possible in our lives to go for it etc. etc.) so I couldn’t let fear get in the way. I told myself I would worry about the detail of the birth and parenthood once the baby was in existence. And now, here we are. I’m 25 weeks pregnant and taking it day by day.

I took up freelance writing.

Sometimes I have lots of work and sometimes I have none. And the only way I can get more work is by putting myself out there. By coming up with ideas and sending them out to people. By gathering the courage to email strangers to ask if they’d like to give me money in exchange for words. And apart from the message I write in my correspondence I have no control over what they think of me. There is every chance that every one of them will think I am a moron. But if I DON’T contact anybody, I’ll get nowhere. So every week I hit that button and I keep on trying.

It really is a marvellous device and I’m proud of myself every time I push it.

Thank goodness for Big Magic

Another excellent woman who encourages similar behaviour is Elizabeth Gilbert who wrote Big Magic – Creativity Beyond Fear.

I love reading books and articles designed to give you the courage to be braver, and this one had the most profound impact. The combination of this book and the knowledge that the best things in life happen when you hit the f*ck it button have given me the courage I needed to be bolder.

Big Magic is about not letting fear stop you from doing what you want to do, and creating what you want to create. I took so much from this book but these are my favourite lessons:

Do it because you love it – everything else that comes of it is a bonus.
If you don’t pursue your great idea, before long somebody else will.
You have to accept that fear will inevitably always be with you. You just can’t let it guide your decisions.
Anything bad for you is bad for your work (with the exception of Jaffa Cakes, I’m assuming).
If you get a no, move on and offer your idea/work/whatever to someone else.
Done is better than perfect.
OF COURSE you have the right to be creative, you have that by just being alive. You don’t need anybody’s permission.
Don’t worry about being original, be authentic.
Don’t actively try to write something that helps people. Just write and if it helps then GREAT.

If you’re following any kind of creative dream, I really recommend reading it. If nothing else, you’ll find you’re suddenly out of excuses not to give whatever you want to do a try.

Fear is boring, because fear only ever has one thing to say to us, and that thing is: ‘STOP!'” – Elizabeth Gilbert

Getting older has given me feel a much greater, more urgent need to be brave. Because with everyday that I’m not, it’s only me that loses out.

So I’m going to keep Big Magic’s lessons front of mind, and I’m going to carry on creating without fear (or at least without paying too much attention to fear). And I’m going to keep on hitting that beloved f*ck it button.

Because life just keeps getting more interesting every time I do.

Body image: Why we shouldn’t feel ashamed when we change

23/07/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

Body image: Why we shouldn't feel ashamed when we change When I was first pregnant I found myself automatically apologising to my husband for the fact that my body would change.

And this is weird on several levels. Firstly, OF COURSE it’s going to change. How could you grow a new person within your own body without needing to make a little room?

Secondly, I didn’t do this on my own. I’m not going to draw you a picture but getting pregnant is very much a two person job and one we did on purpose. So, actually, I haven’t changed my body, we have.

And thirdly, why would a physical change require an apology anyway? Changing is what bodies do. We get older, we do varying levels of exercise, we experiment with the volume of Nobbly Bobbly ice creams we can consume during the summer months… We change together and support each other as we go.

But nonetheless, the instinct to apologise was there. He required no such thing, of course, because he’s not a dickhead, but this wasn’t really about him, anyway. It was about how I perceived myself, my own body image, and how we all respond to change, particularly when it occurs in women.

Several people have felt compelled to reassure me that ‘You can hardly tell you’re pregnant at all!’ or ‘Don’t worry, you’re wearing it well’ or ‘It’s OK because it’s just on your tummy and not on your face or anything’.

And it’s so strange because I’d be fine with it spreading anywhere it needs to go. I want people to be able to tell. A child is growing in here and I am happy to look however I need to keep us both safe.

When people say these things, I’m not even sure they know what they mean, only that, for the most part, they mean well. But I think it would be better for everyone if we stopped. There’s no need to panic. Bodies change and that’s OK.

Weight can, of course, be a huge trigger for insecurity, just like any other element of our appearance or lives. And I’m sure that many people who make these comments are just keen to keep everybody feeling good during such a gruelling process.

Body image: Why we shouldn't feel ashamed when we change But we mustn’t normalise the idea that a woman’s body changing is a bad thing. Because it isn’t.

What matters is how a person feels and that they’re healthy. And a positive status in both these areas looks very different from person to person. My healthy and your healthy, and my happy and your happy, no doubt do not look the same. And yours is absolutely none of my business.

Before I figured out that I was struggling with anxiety, I was often a little underweight. Nothing drastic but it was a side effect. When I look at my wedding pictures, I can see that although I’m happy in our relationship, I had some serious personal work to do. And since I’ve done that, I’ve had a steadier, healthier weight, which has involved getting a bit bigger, and that is a good thing.

I found it alarming that my instinct when I got pregnant was to say sorry for the changes my body would go through. That I felt the need to clarify whether my husband would manage to find me attractive during this time. (I am a constant source of Cadbury snacks right now – what could be more alluring than that?)

But I caught myself just in time and do not apologise any more. I am instead trying to enjoy this process, as much as the exhaustion/crying fits/surprise nausea will allow, anyway. Because this is a journey to something I want, so I wouldn’t have it any other way.

If we want to live in a world that’s kinder to women’s bodies, we have to start being kinder to ourselves.

We need to be more honest about what’s fuelling our thoughts. Are you apologising for your weight/look/whatever because you have done something wrong? Or because you’re afraid that if you don’t, somebody else will suggest that you should?

Because, you know what? That is one risk you can afford to take. Because anybody who suggests that is wrong. And they should be the one to say they’re sorry.

32 reasons getting older isn’t so bad after all

09/07/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

32 reasons getting older isn't so bad after all I’m about to turn 32. Thank you in advance for your card/Facebook message/silent cursing of the day I was born.

For the last three years, I’ve taken to this blog to write a list to mark the end of another year. When I was 29 I wrote 29 things I’d learnt in 29 years. Then came 30 pieces of wisdom to mark the big three-oh. And then, last year, 31 things that continue to surprise me about being alive. (A list which, were I writing it this year would include: That anybody thinks it’s reasonable to have phone keypad tones switched on in 2017; and The incredible impact air conditioning can have on my temper).

So now here comes 32. And whilst all the other ages came as something of a shock, this one feels just right. So this time I’m sharing why getting older isn’t so bad after all. It’s gonna happen anyway so you may as well smile about it.

1. Nobody cares that your main aim in life is to go home at a reasonable hour and get into bed. Most people feel exactly the same way.

2. The older you get the clearer it becomes that – with just a few exceptions – you simply don’t have to do things you don’t want to do. (This TED Talk on how to stop giving a f*** offers very helpful advice on this subject).

3. It finally dawns on you that the idea that if you’re not wearing heels you’re not properly dressed up is BULLSHIT. You can, of course, wear whatever the hell you want.

4. People don’t just compliment your nail varnish, they applaud you for finding time to apply it.

5. You get to regale younger folks with crazy stories about all the things you got up to when you were young. About the time you failed an exam because you stayed up till 5am the night before. Or when you drank triple vodka and lemonades and begged your body to let you throw up. They don’t believe you were ever that fun, of course, but you get to tell the story nonetheless.

6. You realise that the fact that women go to the toilet too isn’t taboo after all. In fact, within minutes of meeting a fellow female thirty something, it’s not unusual to have compared notes regarding the weakness of your respective bladders.

7. The ever growing list of glorious new roles you get to take on. Auntie, sister-in-law, friend-always-happy-to-discuss-the-complexities-of-Coronation-Street-storylines. With great age comes great responsibility, and I am here for all of it.

8. Female friendships at this point in our lives are better than they’ve ever been. Much like wine, cheese and Colin Firth, they really do get better with age.

9. The sweet joy of regressing. Yes maturity is important, but hanging out with school friends and howling about the time Tina hid around a corner waiting to scare me and instead jumped onto a perfect stranger’s back, will never get old, even if we do.

10. Relationships with your siblings. My brothers are two of the best men I know. This is not a sentence I thought I’d write when we were living at home and SCREAMING at each other about who got to sit in the armchair closest to the telly. (I mean, it doesn’t matter but it was always them and it was so unfair). And I have it on good authority that they thought I was pretty ghastly too. Nice job growing up, everyone.

11. You realise that dropping a swear word into conversation with your parents won’t bring the world to an end. It’s been 32 years and we’re finally in agreement that ‘arse’ is an incredibly useful term.

12. We get to look around at a world growing up on social media secure in the knowledge that, unless time machines become a thing – and they SHOULDN’T – the minutiae of our teenage years will never be documented on the Internet.

13. The oddly grounding effect of spotting a grey hair in your fringe. Here I am, it says, the passing of time, happening right here above your eyebrows. Stop dicking about on Twitter and LIVE, for goodness sake.

14. You learn that a successful marriage depends on a strong commitment to little white lies. (My husband refuses to admit that he can see the aforementioned grey hairs and for that I will love him forever).

15. For the most part, the people in your life now are in your life because you want them in your life. Because who’s got time to have things any other way?

32 reasons getting older isn't so bad after all 16. The freedom to write a birthday list requesting what you really want. You can keep your gadgets, give me comfortable pants and a high quality shower gel and I’ll be happy for the rest of the year.

17. Not being embarrassed to admit that when everybody started going on about Drake, it took you a week to figure out that people weren’t talking about Nick Drake.

18. …Or that “Sifting through a rack of reduced greetings cards” is your idea of a perfect weekend activity.

19. …Or to say that a stool is not a chair (with my back?!) so you will need to find somewhere else to sit.

20. Or that, as far as you’re concerned, anything happening outside of your house on a Monday night is going to need to happen without you.

21. Having the confidence, when a waiter or waitress asks if you have any questions about the menu, to ask them so many that they may as well take a seat whilst you work through your list.

22. The constant novelty of marriage. Yes arguments happen, and no, some people don’t seem to understand that “Unless you’re planning to build some kind of fort, please can you put used toilet rolls in the recycling bin” isn’t a joke. But waking up next to a person about whom you believe all love songs were written never stops being exciting.

23. Knowing that with every day that passes, fewer and fewer people in the world expect you to look or be cool.

24. Realising it really is OK when somebody pays you a compliment to just say “Thank you”. You don’t have to panic and list every single one of your faults in response.

25. The understanding that nobody in your life ever thought you were being ironic when you listened to Steps, Boyzone and Westlife anyway, so you might as well just enjoy them with your head held high.

26. You discover the world of books designed to help make your life easier. I wrote a few months ago about Derren Brown’s ‘Happy’ and learning to focus on the things in life we can control. For this book and the many others about how to keep your sh*t together, I am very grateful.

27. The pressure of time continuing to pass forces you to finally find the courage to SAY what you want to do with your life. Which is excellent because now you can put all the energy you’d usually reserve for feeling embarrassed by your ambitions into realising them.

28. Permission to participate in borderline fanaticism regarding high quality air freshening products. TALK TO ME ABOUT MY DIFFUSERS. I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY.

29. The knowledge that, at any point, should you need or want to, you can go home. Because you are an adult, and you get to decide what you do.

30. Finally feeling like you know yourself well enough. How much sun you can take. How much water you need to feel normal. How many giant chocolate buttons is too many giant chocolate buttons. Sometimes you have to get it wrong before you can know how to get it right.

31. Realising that most of the very best moments of your life don’t make it into the photo album. They’re too good to stop to look through a lens.

32. Sh*t suddenly gets real. I’m sitting here with a small human being kicking, punching and spinning his or her way around my womb, quietly waiting to turn our lives upside down. It’s as bizarre and beautiful as everybody says.

You see, age has its downsides – its aches and pains, its effect on your capacity to party – but without it I wouldn’t be here, somewhere close to ready for motherhood. So I really can’t fault it.

I can only imagine what I’ll have to say about the world by the time 33 comes around.

I am brave and so are you

02/04/2017 by Charlotte 1 Comment

I’ve been thinking a lot about bravery. Not large-scale, obvious bravery, deserving of medals and ceremonies, but everyday acts of courage that can easily go unnoticed.

What requires each of us to be brave varies enormously. Something I have to be brave to get through might not even make it onto the list of things you’d worry about. Similarly something that keeps you awake at night might feel as simple to me as opening the fridge, or buttering a piece of toast.

And I think that’s what makes it difficult. That sometimes we feel we’re wrong for needing courage to endure parts of life that others would find easy. But we’re not.

Sometimes it requires bravery for me to go and meet friends for dinner. You wouldn’t think it – I’ll enjoy getting ready, I’ll be the one to suggest a restaurant, and I’ll crack jokes every ten seconds from the moment we sit down because HEAVEN FORBID there should be a moment of silence. But my heart will be beating faster than it should. I’ll be hoping hard that I won’t f*ck up. I’ll be giving myself silent pep talks throughout, including reminders to breathe. And I’ll be looking forward to getting home and looking back on another night where I proved to myself that I’m OK. It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy going out, there’s just a lot going on behind the scenes, as there is for all of us.

But then other typically scary activities won’t frighten me at all. I’ll happily do a bit of public speaking and (as long as tripping hazards are kept to a minimum) I’ll probably enjoy it. I’m also rather partial to a roller coaster. I like interviewing total strangers too. But ask me to walk into a pub full of friends and I’m gonna need a second to prepare myself. We’re all different. There is no right or wrong way to feel.

But it can feel like there is, and that influences how we deal with it. It’s much easier to berate ourselves for feeling nervous, worried or upset than it is to just admit it and accept that it’s OK. We assume others would judge us if they knew how we felt so we get in there and do it to ourselves first. How remarkably unhelpful our brains can be.

I am brave and so are you But this is not how we treat our friends. So many of our conversations with each other are about courage. About being brave enough to speak up at work, to ask for what we want from a relationship, or to overcome our imposter syndrome and keep following our dreams.

We use such kind language with each other. Any time a friend says they’re ‘ridiculous’ for feeling a particular way our immediate response is “No, you’re not”. It’s so obvious that it’s automatic. Their feelings are never invalid, so why do we think ours are?

Ever since I started freelancing, bravery has become a much bigger part of my life. And I think it’s done me good. I simply cannot make any progress at all if I’m not brave. No emails would be sent, no fees would be discussed, and no articles would be written as I’d be too afraid to start typing. But every time I overcome a fear I’m encouraged to do it again. Because each time I’m gathering more evidence that it’ll all be OK. That I will cope and I will learn. And that the worst-case scenario is not just bearable, but worth the risk.

When my anxiety was as its peak I used to sit on the train and wonder how many other people were having to work as hard as I was to hold it together. Now I know that the answer was undoubtedly loads. Every person is being brave in some small way, you’d just never know it from looking at them.

We should all be better at acknowledging when we’ve been brave. We should swap the story we tell ourselves around so that what we hear is that we coped brilliantly, not that we were stupid for ever thinking otherwise.

Because it’s OK to be who we are and that doing so takes courage. Accepting that might be the bravest part of all.

How to feel better about the way you dress

12/03/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

I can count on one finger the number of times I’ve walked into an event and been 100% confident that I was wearing the right thing. It was my wedding day so I wore my wedding dress and I stand by that decision.

But the rest of the time, well, I’ve tried. Sometimes I’ve loved my top or my jeans or my ability to fit a vest top underneath anything in case of a draft. And other times, at best I’ve been unsure and at worst I’ve felt like a mess.

It’s only recently that I’ve acknowledged how much our self-esteem can be affected by how we feel about what we wear. I started listening to Dawn O’Porter’s podcast Get It On and it’s made me reassess my approach to clothes.

If you’re not familiar, the podcast is a series of half hour chats between Dawn and guests about how they dress. She’s interviewed lots of excellent people, including Dawn French, Fay Ripley, Chris O’Dowd and Jason Segel. The conversation is always fun – and often really funny – and all about what motivates each person when it comes to getting dressed, what they like and how they feel about clothes.

It really makes you appreciate the world of thoughts and feelings that everybody has about their appearance. I thought other people just fell out of bed and into the perfect outfit but GUESS WHAT it’s a process for everyone. It’s made me much happier about my wardrobe, and reminded me that clothes and deciding how you want to look should be fun.

As ever, a discovery that’s made me feel better is now on here for you to try should you wish to, along with it a list of rules I’m now living by when it comes to my clothes.

1: Remember who’s in charge

Oh hi, that’s you. The odd uniform, dress code, and unavoidable fancy dress party aside, most of the time it’s us who gets to call the shots about what we wear – not magazines, not adverts, and not some social media update about a fashion week with a hashtag you can’t decipher. It’s all up to us and the only rule we should follow is that we should feel good in what we put on. You can even wear red and pink together now and nobody will bat an eyelid, so go nuts.

2: Reserve the right to change your mind

Find me a person who can say they have never regretted an outfit and I will give you the LIAR. I’m from the pedal pusher, skirt-trouser, and Spice Girls-inspired platform trainer era, so if you want to chat about fashion faux-pas just walk this way. But it doesn’t matter, a risk or two won’t do you any harm. You’ve got to go with what you want and what feels right at the time. And worst case scenario, the laughs you’ll have with your children and grandchildren when you look back on photos of your hot pink cropped trousers will be priceless (at least that’s what I’m telling myself).

3: Repeat after me: Bodies change and that’s OK

My hips have expanded loads in the last couple of years – they might as well just write CREATING SPACE IN CASE OF CHILD on my body in stretch marks and be done with it. And other things have changed too – my weight, my skin, my hair – because that’s what it is to be a person who is ageing at the traditional rate. Some things that used to fit no longer do, and other things that used to look wrong now look better. It’s just the way it goes, and as long as we’re happy with our bodies and our health, we just need to roll with how our wardrobe options change with time.

4: Have a regular clear-out

Shopping for clothes used to be my favourite activity; now I prefer having a clear-out and taking a load down to the charity shop. The rule is: if it no longer makes you feel good, it goes. It sounds brutal but it works. And I don’t mean that you then have to replace everything that’s gone, but that you focus more on the items that do bring you joy, vary what you wear them with, and generally build a happier relationship with your wardrobe. Or that when you do buy something new, you do so better informed about the criteria an item needs to meet in order to secure a place on your rail.

5: It’s OK that other people will wear different things

You can waste a lifetime walking into parties, restaurants and offices and feeling like you’re wearing the wrong thing because it’s different from what other people have on. But there’s no right and wrong way to dress. Unless you’ve accidentally shown up without anything on, or you’ve chosen to wear your wedding dress to someone else’s nuptials (I dreamt that I did this and may never recover), you haven’t got it wrong. It’s OK to have your own personality and tastes, and to make your own assessment about how many layers are appropriate for the current climate. Other people’s clothes should reflect what they like and what suits them, they shouldn’t be a source of anxiety for you.

Life advice: Focus on the things you can control

26/02/2017 by Charlotte 6 Comments

All of a sudden we’re a pair of Londoners who own a car. It’s been a while since I was behind the wheel so I’ve been a little nervous. Partly because this is London and people here aren’t exactly known for their patience, and partly because I’m in my thirties now and a lot more aware of the vast array of things that could kill me than I was when I was younger.

But I read something this week that’s helping me build my confidence – in the car and elsewhere.

My brother bought me Derren Brown’s book ‘Happy’ for Christmas. (That I have been to see DB several times and am a huge fan of his always comes as a surprise to people, so SURPRISE, I love a good mind game). The book’s about how we can reframe the way we think in order to feel happier. I’m already pretty content, but I also spend a disproportionate amount of time worrying about what people think and the range of ways in which I’m failing, so I’ll take any help I can get.

It was this part that made me stop in my tracks and which I’ve found myself referring to ever since. Two lists – the things we can control, and the things we can’t:

It’s obvious when you see it written down, and yet so easy to forget when you’re busy or stressed or running low on self-esteem. He also suggests saying to yourself “It’s fine” when somebody does something that you don’t like but can’t change, to stop you from dwelling on the wrong things. (This obviously doesn’t apply in the face of crime/injustice; it’s for more small-scale, day to day irritations.)

When you realise what’s within your control, life becomes easier to handle. You can control what you say, but you can’t control how people respond. You can tell what you believe to be the funniest joke you’ve ever come up with, but you can’t control whether anybody will laugh at it, or if doing so will make them like you (heartbreaking, I know). You can be a super polite person who says please and thank you and excuse me may I sit down on that chair currently occupied by your bag? But you can’t stop people sighing like their possessions are more deserving of a seat than you are. You can only ever be you.

The more you adopt this way of thinking, the more you find yourself at each moment of the day spotting the things that you can and can’t do anything about. A bus driver flashed his lights to let me pull out of my driveway today, but when I was about to set off I saw that the bus was still moving so I stopped. The driver mouthed “GO ON THEN” and did a little angry-looking wave. I felt like a dickhead for a second until I remembered – I made a decision based on what I thought. How he responded was up to him. Previously I’d have gone over and over this but now I feel better equipped to prioritise what I should worry about. Make all the facial expressions you like, my friend, my judgment is all I’ve got.

You also can’t control the state that you find somebody in in any given situation – nor can you be expected to somehow know everything about them in advance. Their past, their fears, whether they’re hungry or tired or sad, if they’ve got a cold or a headache or a nasty itch on their back that just won’t go away. All you can do is try to be nice and fair and perhaps guide them to the nearest tree to use as a scratching device. Every time I remember that the way people behave ALWAYS has a billion times more to do with them than it does me, I feel a lot calmer.

When you’re reading a book you think you’ll remember every part forever, but then you move on to the next one and the next one and the memory starts to fade. So I’ve written this down to make sure I don’t forget, and because sharing bits of advice I’ve picked up about how to feel more confident has become a big part of what this blog is about, and I like that.

I hope you find this useful, but, of course, how you respond is very much up to you.

You’re not the girl you think you are

05/02/2017 by Charlotte 8 Comments

You’re not the girl who eats too many crisps. You’re the girl who likes to see potatoes put to good use.

You’re not the girl who couldn’t get a boyfriend until she was 20. You’re the girl who was biding her time.

You’re not the girl who should be ashamed of every rejection in her inbox. You’re the girl who was brave enough to try.

You’re not the girl whose use of social media is tedious and lame. You’re the girl whose use of social media is just as tedious and lame as everybody else’s.

You’re not the girl who’s too old to be afraid of the dark. You’re the girl who’s wise to prefer a world she can see.

You’re not the girl who once tripped over her clothes, fell face-first into a wall and never got over it. You’re the girl who learnt the hard way that long skirts are more dangerous than they appear.

You’re not the girl with the freaky double-jointed elbows. You’re the girl with a built-in party trick.

You’re not the girl who needs the toilet every 30 minutes. You’re the girl who can sometimes wait for 35.

You’re not the girl who cries too much in good times and bad. You’re the girl whose eyes overflow when she cares.

You’re not the girl who got sick on a night out and ruined everybody’s fun. You’re just the girl who got sick one time. It happens.

You’re not the girl who has eight marshmallows with her hot chocolate. You’re the girl who has nine because YOLO.

You’re not the girl who never stops making stupid jokes. You’re the girl whose comedy has niche appeal.

You’re not the girl who shouldn’t admit to listening to Westlife on a Sunday night. You’re the girl who knows a good key change when she hears one.

You’re not the girl who gives too much advice. You’re the girl who’s trying to help.

You’re not the girl who wears too much mascara. You’re the girl whose mum has said “Charlotte, are you unwell or have you just not put any make-up on yet?” enough times to know what she needs.

You’re not the girl who’s forever got her eye on the door. You’re the girl who just needs to know she can always go home if she wants to.

You’re not the girl who wasted Saturday night watching TV and eating Pringles. You’re the girl who’s finally learnt to have a rest when she needs it.

You’re not the girl who shares too many anecdotes about her baby nephew. You’re the girl who’s allowed to be proud.

You’re not the girl who owns too many grey t-shirts and notebooks. You’re the girl who knows that’s simply not possible.

You’re not the girl who lets her past dictate her future. You’re the girl who gets to start a new story every day.

You’re not the girl you think you are. You’re a woman who’s doing just fine.

La La Land: Seven lessons you learn when following your dreams

18/01/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

20170114_150307 I don’t always love musicals. I tend to want everyone in them to calm down. But not this time. I loved everything about La La Land: the singing, the dancing, the romance, and ohmyword the soundtrack. (For those in pursuit of joy: it’s on Spotify).

I also loved that this is a film about following your dreams, the ridiculousness involved with putting yourself out there, and the compromises you have to make to get what you want (granted with more dancing than I’d considered incorporating before, but maybe it’d help?).

It’s funny, one moment you’re laughing in the face of inspirational quotes, clicking away from articles offering career advice, and declaring war on anybody who talks about being ‘meant’ to do a particular job, and then all of a sudden you’re every single one of those guys rolled into one. I blame age – it makes the need to enjoy your life feel so much more pressing.

Whatever your aim – mine is writing for a living – you learn a lot whilst trying to make it happen. So for anyone considering chasing a dream, here are some of the lessons I’ve learnt so far, and I’m sure there will be plenty more to come…

1.You have to learn to SAY it.

What do you say when somebody asks what you do? Or when they ask how the writing/comedy/acting/photography is going? Perhaps you’re more naturally confident than I am, in which case GOOD KEEP THAT UP, but if not, you have to find the courage to answer this question properly.

On the inside I’m absolutely obsessed with writing, with being published, with coming up with new ideas, and with getting better at it. But because there are so many people doing it, and so many versions of what ‘good’ looks like, I’m afraid of looking like a fraud or somebody pursuing a pipe dream. BUT what I’ve learnt is this: a) I’m not either of those things and b) Even if you feel that way, you have to learn to act like you don’t. People won’t give you work or recommend you if you’re too afraid to even say what you want, and you won’t feel confident enough to try if you don’t hear it from your own mouth. And anyway, the more you speak to people, the more ideas you’ll get, so you need to do it. People are asking how it’s going because they’re interested, so take a deep breath and have the chat.

2. A ‘Yes’ strategy is a good place to start

You never know where opportunities are going to lead you, so when you’re starting out and you don’t have any or much work, saying yes to what comes your way isn’t a bad strategy. Of course, there are caveats here – make sure it’s something you want to do, that you’re happy with the money, and that you have the space and time to do it. I just mean that it doesn’t have to be precisely what you want to do in the long term from the start, as the experience will still come in handy. At worst, it’ll teach you what you don’t want which is also a useful lesson.

3. Someone in the crowd could be the one you need to know

Yep, I’ve had that song in my head for days and now you will too. Meeting people, speaking to strangers on the phone, and generally going out into the world and saying “You don’t know me but here’s my heart and soul, want to buy it?” is a necessary part of trying to build a business or a career for yourself. Do not be afraid of this. It is 100% worth it and often fun. And anyway, there is simply no way around it; the odds of somebody coming round to your house out of nowhere and offering to pay you to write/act/tell jokes/sing songs for them is very low, and to be honest I’d be very wary of anybody who does.

4. Compromise is very much part of the deal

Films don’t document people working on Sundays when everyone else is out eating roast dinners or walking dogs; nor do they show people hunched over their laptops, typing away into the night because they have a deadline that they couldn’t hit during the day because they have another job. But this can be the reality of dream chasing. It certainly is for the writers among us. I would describe myself as ‘In a serious relationship’ with my desk, my laptop, and about 45 different Moleskine notebooks. It’s OK, they’re all fine with it.

There’s glamour and joy to be had, for sure – a byline, a pay cheque, your face on TV – but most of the time it’s just me, a blanket, my computer and all the empty packets from snacks I’ve inhaled. I’m happy with that, but I appreciate it wouldn’t be for everyone.

5. Patient friends and family are everything

There’s a bit in La La Land where Sebastian drives to Mia’s house and insists on taking her to an audition because he believes in her. These are the kinds of people we need in our lives. People who won’t get cross when we have to opt out of going to a party because we have a deadline, but who will instead make us a drink before they go – because not only do they understand our life goals, but they also take hydration seriously.

6. You have to learn when to rest

Why didn’t you go on holiday last year, Charlotte?

Oh because I was too busy chasing my dreams.

And what are your dreams exactly?

To write for a living so that I can travel and enjoy my free time on my terms.

Right…

Breaks matter. They matter to your health because life is tiring, they matter to your relationships because to have them you need to actually spend time with people, and they matter to your work because you can only create great things if you look after yourself. So you need to get good at figuring out when to work and when to rest. As I discovered early on, if you just wait until you fall over to realise you need to stop, you’re leaving it too late.

7. Comparing yourself to others is NOT helpful

I’ve written about this lots of times before (and most recently in this post), but it needs reiterating to remind myself and anybody else who spends too much time online. It is healthy to look at somebody who has done something you would also like to do and think “How can I learn from them?”, it is not healthy to think “I am a failure because this has happened to them and not to me.” Do you see the distinction? Good, now paint it on your bedroom wall or your phone screen. None of us has enough time to waste worrying about why we’re not somebody else. We’ve got much more important sh*t to do than that.

Aim for 2017: Acceptance

02/01/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

New Year's resolution: Acceptance Pretty much every barrier to contentment I face comes up because I haven’t yet finished accepting who I am, how human beings work, and how life goes down.

So this year, instead of setting New Year’s resolutions to go running at 5am, to give up sweets, or to learn how to re-wire a lamp (no thank you, yeah right and, re-what, now?), I’m going to dedicate my energy to accepting some truths:

That I’m always going to shop high street. So many people who wear vintage clothes look fantastic, chic and cool. But rather than just thinking that, I’ve been wasting energy chastising myself for continuing to purchase clothes from shops every Charlotte, Jemima and Louise can access. But then I realised – this is how I like to dress, and every time I walk into a vintage shop I feel like I do in a hardware store – I know that there is potential in here, but I just don’t have the skills or the vision to make it work for me. And that’s OK.

That my achievements are my achievements and your achievements are your achievements. I wrote a list of the reasons I haven’t yet done all of the things I’d like to do with my life recently, just to make my brain SHUT UP and stop making me feel like a failure. And the main one is this: Because I’ve been busy achieving other things, all of which I stand by. Your brain is so good at telling you what you haven’t done and terrible at acknowledging what you have. So I want to accept this and try to beat it at its own game. We each live different lives and it’s pointless to compare. It’s a much better use of time to be pleased with the life you have, to understand why it is how it is, and to focus on where you’re off to next.

That we’re just not minimalist people. I’m a huge fan of a clear-out and my favourite correspondence of all is a note from the British Heart Foundation to tell me how much my donations have raised. But I can’t give all our stuff away. I like to own books, lots of books. And clothes. And shoes. And old diaries with lists I might just need to refer to. And CDs because I still haven’t let go. My house is like my brain – busy, cluttered, covered in notes and so full of memories it’s ready to burst – and I’m alright with that.

That crisps are delicious and I like to eat them. I’m not going to try and kid anyone and say that I’m giving up treats. The way I feel when I see that Pringles are on offer for £1 a tube is probably similar to the way a football fan feels when Idontcare United does a goal or whatever – very excited indeed. So I’m not going to deprive myself entirely of this joy, I’ll just try and have a weekends-only rule, or something extremely self-restrained like that.

That conversations about money have to happen. One of the hardest parts of freelancing is the bit where you need to talk about cash. I’ve got better at it – I do it and I’m broadly happy with how it goes – but every part of me tenses when the conversation begins. I think it’s part human nature and part fear of being found out, which is weird because what are they going to find out? That I need to eat? HEAVEN FORBID. This is just a part of the process and I shouldn’t just accept it but welcome it. We all deserve to be paid for our work. And anyway, how else will I pay for those crisps?

That there are worse obsessions than the one I have with notebooks. Nothing brings me hope like a brand new pad. All that potential on those blank sheets – Will I write the next Bridget Jones? The next Hey Jude? The next How To Figure Out If Your Man Secretly Finds Your Laugh Irritating women’s magazine quiz? Paper is for me what drugs and alcohol and large televisions are for other people, except cheaper and much more civilised. We mustn’t beat ourselves up for having something harmless in our lives that we enjoy. Ok, my office might look like a stationery shop’s storage room, but who wouldn’t want to hang out in one of those?

That there will never be enough time. Age is realising that there is nothing you can do to stop time slipping away from you. It’s sitting with your family or friends and feeling the day being pulled out from under you before it’s even begun. Fighting it won’t do you any good – all you can do is try to dedicate the time you have to the people and opportunities that matter most. I want to use my time more efficiently – who doesn’t – but I also want to accept the decisions I make about how I use it. Regretting what you did with one day will only eat into the time you have on another, so that’s a stage we can afford to lose.

That you have to do things that scare you. Fancy being on telly? My friend, you’re going to have to stand in front of strangers and do some acting. Want to write for a magazine? Well, then you’re going to need to email the editor some ideas, probably be knocked back and then send some more. Scary, yes, but maybe also the one step between you and something worth a little perspiration. I have come to the conclusion that if I’m not scared or at least a little nervous about something, it’s generally because I don’t care about it, in which case, why am I doing it in the first place?

That most of the time I’ll never find out what you think anyway. It’s amazing that we invest so much time in worrying about feedback we’ll probably never receive. As much as I may worry that you thought I was a moron over dinner, that my eye make-up was poorly applied, or that my jokes were badly thought through, do I really think you’d say that to me? And if you did, a) Would we really be friends? and b) Wouldn’t I have the right to disagree? I worry about people thinking my writing is bad or silly or pointless, but I still continue to do it, which means I must believe in it. Happiness requires you to back yourself – to have faith that you are a good person and that you’re trying your best – in social situations, in your work, and in your application of eyeliner. And if not everybody likes it, that’s because people are different, which is healthy.

That life is not linear. One of the hardest things to get your head around is that there is no end point at which you’re handed a certificate for having done all of the things on your to-do list. Your life isn’t all set out in a line so that you can walk along it, ticking off your achievements on a clipboard. It’s much more interesting than that. I know this, I really do, I just forget it sometimes because I really like writing lists and crossing things off. So this year I want to remember how important it is to give yourself permission to stay open to what comes up, to change your mind, and to do what feels right for you.

That you can’t change people. Not the man on the tube who thinks he can sit with his legs spread so wide that they require their own carriage. Not the woman who doesn’t know to keep her questions about the film to herself until she leaves the cinema. And not the guy on the table opposite whose mother forgot to say EAT WITH YOUR MOUTH SHUT, YOU ANIMAL as frequently as mine did. More importantly, you also can’t change your friends, your family, or your spouse into different people. You can tell them if they’re upsetting you, but, after that, it’s up to them. All you can do is focus on being the kind of person you want to be.

I’ll be me and you be you and the rest of the year will take care of itself, I’m sure of it.

Happy New Year, friends.

The small moments of joy that made 2016 more than bearable

30/12/2016 by Charlotte 4 Comments

img_20160817_133724 I don’t need to mention that this year has been… difficult.

But rather than add to the noise about the horror of 2016 – the deaths of numerous icons, the dream of the first female US president tumbling into the abyss, and the opportunity to spend Wednesday evenings watching people make cake whilst eating cake disappearing forever – I’ve decided to focus on the positives.

Because there’s nothing like a year filled with endless news stories of sadness and despair and a, frankly, terrifying political landscape, to make you appreciate the smaller moments that make up each day. So here are a few of the small but precious moments that made this year unforgettable for me. And I’d love to hear yours too.

Halting mid-order at the bar on Battersea Rise to sing emphatically to Blank Space by Taylor Swift with Ceri. Thank you for your patience, Mr Barman.

Sitting in the British Library with Alexa, working on our separate writing projects alone but together, and rewarding our efforts with door stopper sized pieces of cake.

Hearing my brother walking down the stairs saying “Alright then, dude” to his 10 day old baby son, Jack, who he was about to introduce us to for the very first time.

Having a panic attack at St Pancras station whilst waiting to meet Emma, telling her I was suffering, her saying “You know, I don’t expect anything from you” and it disappearing just as quickly as it came.

Receiving my first ever yes from an editor I’d pitched a story idea to cold.

1am Sunday morning, late January. Standing on the train back to Wimbledon with Sarah, covered from head to toe in sweat after throwing everything we had into Shake It Off. People stare. We regret nothing.

Watching Jack fall asleep on Leon and witnessing the precise moment my husband fell in love with our nephew.

The final seconds of Orange is the New Black series 4. *mouth wide open emoji*

Standing in a cramped pub in Hackney, the windows streaming with condensation, bouncing along as my friend Sara played bass in a David Bowie tribute band and having it confirmed that she is indeed the coolest of chicks.

Purchasing a yellow leather backpack under the guidance of my boldest friend, and never looking back.

Sheffield, August. A whole afternoon with Jen, Matt, Jo and Leon. I discover Hendrick’s, tonic and cucumber. Life becomes even more interesting.

The response I got to a blog called Solitude is good for you, loneliness is not. I thought talking about finding social situations difficult and needing time to myself would make me sound weird. But, as always, it’s never just you.

Reviewing my choice of outfit (below) for a two and a half hour hike between the Cinque Terre in Italy and realising once and for all that nobody will ever accuse me of being outdoorsy.

Dinner, La Loggia, Levanto, Thursday 19 May. We are at our best.

Falling out of a bar at 8.45pm on a Friday night with my two favourite drinking buddies, laughing like hyenas and heading off in search of food, any food, to soak up all the delicious, if ill-advised, margaritas we’d consumed.

Every time I did that particular type of sigh I reserve for when I close a book I’ve loved. (There were 16 this year, if you’re interested).

When Leon and I used our Nutribullet to make margaritas and we learnt the hard way what it tastes like if you line each glass with table salt instead of rock. (Not good, bro).

Watching Jack eat the tiny remaining peas from his dinner that he’d spread around his high chair from the tip of his mum’s finger.

Seeing the way he looks at her.

Demonstrating that I know all of the words to Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre at a wedding and feeling not a single ounce of shame.

The look of amused surprise on my friends’ faces at Thorpe Park when they discovered just. how. seriously. we take roller coasters.

Being taken to Budapest for my birthday and learning that the first rule of wearing a hat in 34 degree heat is: keep the hat on until you can shower your hair back to normality.

Spending a day with my five oldest friends discussing everything – from the super grown up world of marriage, mortgages and babies, to the most immature game of GUESS WHAT XYZ FROM SCHOOL LOOKS LIKE NOW! – and managing to empty a pub with our endless guffawing.

Every single commission, recommission, published piece, and positive comment that confirmed that, writing wise, I’m in this for the long haul.

The three hour masterclass I went to on how to structure a novel. I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes, but at least I know how to find out.

Discovering that, in Italy, having a doughnut for breakfast is not just acceptable but encouraged.

A chocolate milkshake with Rachel. It was 50% catch up and 50% “Charlotte, don’t let this opportunity pass you by – I’m going to help you take it.”

Realising that one of my very favourite things to do when I’m alone is to play No Matter What by Boyzone and sing both Ronan and Stephen’s parts. And don’t pretend you’re not now off to do exactly the same thing.

The expression on Leon’s face when he came home to find I was making homemade burritos for tea.

Going to see Frankie Boyle, Bridget Christie, Stewart Lee, Hans Teeuwen and Luisa Omielan and feeling that special type of excitement that only comes from watching really, really good comedy.

A Wednesday night in November. Stepping onto the escalator at Waterloo and smiling because that evening with those two women just happened.

Every other time I walked away from a catch up thinking “I cannot wait to see that person again.”

When the cat that visits our garden came into the flat and sat on our sofa for the very first time and there was an entire five minutes when I didn’t think she hated me.

My younger brother standing on the platform at Leicester station and pointing through the train window at empty seats because he knew I was worried about having to stand all the way back to London.

All the days I managed to continue living my life despite having a migraine every week for six months. You don’t get to win, I do.

Christmas. Every second of it.

Feeling everything on my family’s priority list silently shift and Jack taking his place at the top.

Standing in the upstairs bedroom of what will hopefully be our new home and seeing our future waiting for us.