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Goal for 2016: Be authentic

03/01/2016 by Charlotte 1 Comment

Happy New Year to you all!

The taste for Hendrick’s Gin that I developed in 2015 ensured that 1 January started very slowly, but it was nothing a large sandwich couldn’t resolve, thank goodness.

I’ve been looking forward to 2016. When we were in Australia I bought a beautiful diary and I couldn’t wait to get going with it. There’s nothing like a new piece of stationery to make us think that everything is going to be ok, is there? The feeling will last right up until I write ‘launch’ instead of ‘lunch’ in it and am forced to decide whether to scribble the mistake out, remove the entire page, or throw the whole diary in the bin and start again. (Beware stationery enthusiasts: we are always on the brink of a paper-based meltdown).

And with a new diary also comes thoughts about plans, goals, and New Year’s resolutions. As I get older, I know that it is always a good time to come up with new ways to better yourself – it doesn’t need to be January. But what I do find helpful about the end of one year and the start of the next, is the opportunity to think about what you want to be in the 12 months ahead.

Last year, I wanted to be brave. And sometimes I was. And when I felt my bravest – and indeed when things went best – was when I allowed myself to be myself. So for 2016, my aim is to be authentic in all areas of my life.

Be authentic in your work

If you’re not presenting a real version of yourself, people will be able to tell. And, more importantly, it’ll feel rubbish.

A couple of weeks ago I spent an hour working on a pitch for an article that, in the end, I decided not to send. And the reason was because the publication and I just aren’t compatible. If it saw me on Tinder, it would swipe left. I’d feel bad about it for a while but then, when I’d slept on it, I’d think – no, you were right to do that. You’ve saved us both a lot of trouble.

I was constantly editing the pitch to make myself sound like somebody else, and what’s the point of that? They’d most definitely have seen through it, and I wouldn’t have liked writing it anyway. I won’t go into the specifics but just imagine I’d pitched an article on the benefits of walking around my house with shoes on whilst eating a particularly crumbly biscuit. You see? Not me at all.

Remember, friends, it’s your own time you’re wasting. I’m not saying don’t test yourself or step out of your comfort zone – definitely do that – but do it for things you actually want and will enjoy. Because there will be lots of those.

Be authentic in your personal life

It’s OK to let people know you, to tell your friends what’s really going on – that you’re feeling good, that you’re feeling down, that you’re feeling bloated because you just discovered a new kind of blue cheese (damn you, Cambozola). Whatever it might be – and when you feel able – chat it out. The last couple of years has taught me that people are really rather nice all in all and that as soon as you have the courage to talk about a problem, it’s amazing how quickly you discover that other people struggle too. Hell, everybody does.

I like to return from a catch up with friends feeling exhausted because we’ve laughed and cried it all out. It’s sort of like therapy, just more expensive because we did it whilst consuming cocktails/sushi/all of the cake.

It doesn’t have to be like this, of course, some people just need to be allowed to sit quietly and not say anything at all. And that is just as important. The point is you that you don’t need to pretend. Like I said in my last post, we’re in our thirties now (or some of us are…), if people have you in their life, it’s because they really want you there. So give them the real you – cheese-fuelled stomach aches and all.

Be authentic in your look

Just before Christmas I sat in front of a mirror in a make-up shop while a very nice lady put lipstick on me.

This process would previously have left me in a hot panicky sweat. How could I believe that lipstick would look nice on me? What must all the other people in the shop be thinking? Why is everybody laughing at me? STOP LAUGHING AT ME.

But this time I didn’t feel like that, which was nice. Partly because she’d chosen me a colour that made me look an adult woman rather than a clown, which is an achievement in itself. But also because of my age. I’m 30 now and after three decades living with this face it’s about time I started liking it. I’m also rather enjoying having brown hair. After 16 years of dyeing it blond, it’s quite nice to be getting closer to my natural colour. Perhaps it’s because I’ve removed a level of pretence from my life, or perhaps it’s just that I’m too tight to keep forking out for bleach. I’ll let you decide.

For some people, dyeing their hair blue, pink or purple brings about a feeling of authenticity. Whatever works for you, I say do it. You should look how you want to look. After 30 years of listening out for it, I can confirm that nobody worth listening to is laughing.

Be authentic online

Some of us exist as much in people’s lives online as we do in real life. You may well be reading this despite the fact that we’ve never met. How nice are you?! It’s important to be a real version of yourself on the internet as much as anywhere else. If for no other reason than because you’ll probably enjoy it more.

If you’re not careful, you can spend a lot of time online thinking that you need to make yourself more like other people. Twitter and the like are filled with successful people, chatting – as they should – about all the great things they’ve been doing. And it can be a struggle to just look at them without feeling that maybe you should take up their tone or their choice of words or their excessive use of the exclamation mark because surely that will help you make your fortune too. I doubt it. You’ve got to do it your own way. Sure, take a bit of inspiration from the millions of great people who live in your computer, but don’t feel you have to try to be all of them. I mean, I’m not even sure how that would work but it sounds exhausting.

So that’s my aim for the year ahead. What’s yours?

2015: This was the year

31/12/2015 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

2015: This was the year

This was the year when I started catching up with friends over breakfast. At, like, 7.30 in the morning. Actually, let’s rephrase that – this was the year I went MAD.

This was the year when I realised that most of the time I only cook meals so that I can eat the condiments that go with them. Don’t pretend you don’t do the same.

This was the year when 24 months after I started growing my over-plucked eyebrows back, one of them started looking almost normal. Pumped to see what 2016 brings!

This was the year when I started having to ask my younger friends if I’m too old to wear hi-top trainers/leather skirts/double denim. It was also the year when they were polite enough to say no.

This was the year when I saw my byline on top of an article I’d written for a magazine and I realised just how much I want that to become a regular occurrence (loads).

This was the year when I was forced to admit that lychees are delicious. Lesson: just because something looks like an eyeball, it doesn’t mean it won’t taste amazing in a martini.

This was the year when I resolved to be less afraid. I’m not sure I was, to be honest, but I certainly did a lot of things regardless of my fears, which is good enough. The most important thing is not to let them win.

This was the year when I went to Lisbon and learnt that it’s always worth telling a hotel that it’s your husband’s birthday (which it was, honest) because they might just have a little chocolate cake waiting for you when you arrive.

This was the year when I read books by amazing female writers and fell completely in love with each and every one of them. If I can just recommend one thing to you, read Bridget Christie’s book, A Book For Her. Read it and then phone me so we can discuss how brilliant that woman is.

This was the year when I couldn’t help also recommending: Amy Poehler – Yes Please, Lena Dunham – Not That Kind of Girl, Mindy Kaling – Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), Bryony Gordon – The Wrong Knickers, Miranda July – The First Bad Man, and OH MY WORD JUST READ BRIDGET CHRISTIE ALREADY.

This was the year when I got to read published stories written by one of my best friends, Alexa Radcliffe-Hart (like this one, right here). The pride I feel for this woman – and for so many of the brilliant people in my life – reached new heights this year. If you know me, you’ll know I am a crier and that I have therefore spent a lot of 2015 dangerously dehydrated.

This was the year when I went to New York and discovered just how amazing breakfast can taste, how strong cocktails can be, and how many milkshakes one girl can consume in a week (a lot).

This was the year when I built this little website right here. It has its imperfections but they are my imperfections and I stand by each and every one of them (by which I mean that I have googled how to fix them but can’t find an answer).

This was the year that I turned 30. They said it would happen eventually and it did. But I’m OK with it. Because with 30 comes an opportunity to focus on what you really want to do with your life, and a new motivation to just get on and do it.

This was the year when I helped Leon write a Best Man speech and felt so proud watching him deliver it that I could have burst.

This was the year when I got sunstroke and learnt the hard way that you must RESPECT THE SUN.

This was the year when I started feeling really enthusiastic about fabric conditioner. Nothing makes me happier than a good smelling pile of washing and I don’t care who knows it.

This was the year that Leon and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary and I wrote this blog about marriage. When I read it back through, it makes me cry, which is a bit like laughing at your own jokes but much, much worse.

This was the year we went to Australia. I cuddled a koala, I fed lots of kangaroos, and I spent more time by myself than I ever have before. What I learnt was that I like my own company, but that my best memories are definitely made with other people/marsupials.

This was the year when I realised what a compliment it is for an adult to maintain their friendship with you. Remember: we’re in our thirties now, we don’t have to do anything.

This was the year that I realised more than ever that the best gift you can give somebody is your time. I’m very grateful to you all for giving me yours.

Happy New Year, friends.

6 things you have to do when starting out as a freelance writer

16/12/2015 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

Friends, I’ve gone part-time.

I’ve been talking about doing this for so long. I wanted to have just one day to myself every week that I could dedicate to writing, to building a little freelance world for myself, to focusing on the work I already have, to pitching for some more, and to working on some creative projects too.

And now I have it. In many ways I am living the dream. That is, if your dream is to spend a day each week suffering from imposter syndrome and looking at the sky and hoping that all of the work you could possibly dream of will just fall out of it and then crying as you realise that life doesn’t work like that.

Until recently I did all of this on Sundays. I wouldn’t allow myself to leave the house (except perhaps to pop out for a milkshake because I have NEEDS) and it started getting a bit unhealthy (the strawberry shakes may have had something to do with that). I didn’t let myself rest or really enjoy myself and I’d wake up on a Monday feeling like I’d been out raving all night, when in fact I’d just been staring at a computer screen all day.

But then I realised that perhaps there was another way. That I could still work and be part of a team (I’m a comms manager/copywriter type person the other four days of the week), write, and have a life by changing my working life a little. I am delighted that it’s been possible so now Wednesdays belong to me. I still need and want to write at the weekend and at other times too, but things are a bit more balanced now which is lovely.

I opted for Wednesday on the basis that people I email would hopefully be more likely to engage with what I send than they might be closer to the weekend, and also because Tuesday – formerly the absolute worst day of the week – now has a slight feeling of Friday about it (although I keep that to myself because sentences like that just make people hate you).

So now I am figuring out how to get the most from my day. I’ve had just three of these precious Wednesdays so far and even in that short time I have learnt a few things that I realise are essential for this freelancing game. Should you be interested in a similar lifestyle, here are six crucial things I recommend doing:

1.GET UP

It is not the weekend. You are not on holiday. You will not be paid for a single second of this day unless you find yourself some work. In fact, a lot of the time you will make a loss because you will inevitably go to Starbucks and buy a dense chocolate brownie in the hope that the answer to all your prayers is hidden inside it. Spoiler: it isn’t but they are delicious.

2.GET DRESSED

If you’re anything like me then you will at least feel a bit more like a serious person if you’re wearing actual clothes and maybe even a bra. We both know that you don’t have to do this. You could stay in your pyjamas all day but if you do that it’s going to make it much more awkward when you…

3.LEAVE THE HOUSE

Go out. Go sit in a cafe and write emails. Or write notes. Or have thoughts. Or read something. Or go for a walk. You are running your own thing. Be free to do that thing in the best way and place that suits you. Let your brain breathe. Feel good about this opportunity. Smile at a dog or a baby. And then come back home before it gets dark and use that refreshed mind to KEEP GETTING THINGS DONE.

4.SEND THAT EMAIL. SEND ALL OF THE EMAILS.

Nobody is going to reply to your email if you don’t send it in the first place. That’s kind of the way correspondence works. The same goes for your tweet, letter, phone call or carrier pigeon. It’s frightening – SO frightening – but literally nothing will happen if you don’t do it. Nobody will know you exist. So have a good think, write down some words, have a little walk to the fridge, read it again, and then HIT SEND. (And do this about a billion times).

5.PUT YOUR BLOODY PHONE DOWN

WhatsApp is fun, yes, but it can wait. Yes I know you want to tell your mate Sarah how sweet you look in your new hi-top trainers but such words are not going to get you any dollar, are they? (I am telling myself off here. I did this today. I was right, they look ace, but I should have been WORKING NOT FANNYING ABOUT). Do not seek out distraction. Do not consider today the ideal opportunity to do a Facebook cull or to attach amusing photos to each of your phone contacts. Do that tomorrow on the train like a normal person.

6.WRITE

If you’re a writer then you need to write things. Make time to do something creative. Yes, you need to email people and pitch and put yourself out there but you will be all the better at it if you keep writing creative, fun things and reminding yourself why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’ll also help you maintain the will to live when nobody is replying to you, which is important.

So yeah, I’m learning.

And I’m scared as hell because it feels like a very bold thing to admit that you are trying to do something. But, as mentioned above, there’s no other way.

If you have any tips I should add to my list, please do send them to me. I’d love to have another reason to be utterly distracted from what I’m supposed to be doing…

GROWING UP AND LEARNING TO LOVE HANGING OUT BY YOURSELF

25/10/2015 by Charlotte 2 Comments

Today, for the first time in my life, I went to the cinema by myself.

There was a time when I would have responded to the suggestion that I might go and see a film on my own like I would now if somebody asked me if I’d like to go out on a Monday night – ARE YOU INSANE? ABSOLUTELY NOT! GOOD LORD, DON’T EVEN SUGGEST SUCH MADNESS!

But that time has passed.

And I’ll tell you what, I loved it. (I went to see Suffragette which, if possible, seemed all the more powerful because I was alone. I cried and cried and wanted so hard to go back in time and say THANK YOU).

I think it’s a sign of age when you start really enjoying hanging out by yourself.

When I was younger, the pure idea of doing anything on my own was just too much to bear. I was so self-conscious growing up that I felt like I needed other people around me at all times just to justify my existence. Whereas now, not so much.

I always used to be late when going to meet my friends – partly because I’m a disorganised mess who decides to start straightening her hair at the time when she should be leaving the house – and partly because I never wanted to be left sat or standing there, just waiting. What would all the strangers around me think? I’d be a laughing stock, surely.

But then I decided to cut that out. I realised it’s not cool to be late (just do your hair earlier, yo) and that I really don’t care if I have to wait by myself. I’m an adult – extra free time when I can read or write or STARE at the clothes and shoes of strangers (don’t pretend you don’t do it too) is very welcome in my day.

IMG_20150819_175401 Because, guess what? Nobody cares (alright possibly re: the staring but just try to keep it more generally-having-a-look-around than super-creepy-weirdo) And if they do, do you? I’ve gradually managed to train myself not to.

In a couple of weeks this apparent newfound confidence is going to be put to the test. My husband is going to Australia for work and I’m taking some time off to go along for the ride because WOULDN’T YOU and will be hanging out by myself in Sydney.

And I must admit that I am a little apprehensive about this. Admittedly this is mainly because Leon is usually in charge of directions when we go away – like all good couples, we play to our strengths: I’m great at sorting out the admin, the dollar, and making sure I’ve got plenty of pants, and he’s good at working out which way we should turn when we get there.

But this time I’m going to be responsible for my pants AND which way I’m pointing. And I’m going to be a one-woman tourist party – seeing the sights, hitting the beach, and hopefully adding ‘turning right when I should have turned left’ to the list of things I’m not ashamed to be seen doing by myself. I’ll let you know how I get on.

A girl travels a long way on the route to turning 30. There are a lot of opportunities during those three decades to learn to like yourself enough not to fear the judgement of every single person who might happen to cross your path. It’s hard to put into practice but I know that, on the occasions when I do manage it, it’s the absolute sh*t.

A solo cinema trip might not sound all that impressive – and it isn’t in the long scheme of things, of course – but it’s always handy to be reminded that you’re no longer the terrified teen you used to be.

And that if you want to go to the cinema, eat some chocolate covered raisins and have a good cry on your own, you should.

Because there’s nothing embarrassing about that.

How creative people react to other people’s great ideas

02/08/2015 by Charlotte 1 Comment

I went to see Inside Out, the latest Pixar film, this weekend and it blew my mind.

This isn’t a film review – there are plenty of those out there already – but suffice it to say that it’s excellent. It’s an incredibly clever idea, perfectly executed (for anyone who isn’t aware of it, it’s an animation about an 11 year old girl who moves to San Francisco with her parents and how her emotions – Joy, Fear, Anger, Disgust and Sadness – help her deal with her new life. It’s just brilliant). They had me at the mention of Amy Poehler and Mindy Kaling. I mean, you just know it’s going to be good if they’re involved.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the concept of a great idea and how we creative folk react in the face of one; specifically when it belongs to somebody else.

There are a series of feelings involved – curiosity, fascination, interest, inspiration – but also, if we’re honest, a touch of envy, a dose of self-doubt and, if we’re not careful, an unhealthy chunk of OH GOD I’M JUST USELESS, NONE OF MY IDEAS ARE EVEN A TEENY TINY BIT AS GOOD AS THIS, I MAY AS WELL JUST QUIT AND LIVE IN A HOLE.

Now firstly, this is symptomatic of being a creative type – we do tend to be a little on the dramatic and emotional side, it’s just part of the deal. To anybody who lives with a creative person, the best way to deal with a tantrum or momentary meltdown about the pointlessness of existence or YET ANOTHER discussion about why they’re still not Banksy/J. K. Rowling/Lena Dunham/Kevin Spacey/Oprah Winfrey (delete as appropriate according to field of interest), is by giving them a biscuit, putting them in the bath and reminding them gently that they just need to pull themselves together and KEEP GOING. Seriously, is there anything that a soak and a snack can’t fix?

Because another element of this creative sensibility is that we tend to be quite hard on ourselves – again, much like any ambitious folk – beating ourselves up because we are making progress but not at the lightning rate that we’d like, and because sometimes we have to sleep and eat meals and brush our hair and whatever which means we can’t be working all of the time. When are we going get that eighth day in the week that we’ve been promised for so long?

The world we live in can make us feel like we’re just not getting there fast enough. The internet slaps us about the face every second with what everybody else has been doing and in most ways it’s great – we get to read all of the things, marvel at the incredible ideas people have, and ponder where they all came from – and I personally wouldn’t have it any other way. But the level of information and self-promotion we see every moment can play on our anxieties too, so we need to manage how we interact with what we’re seeing and make sure our minds remain focused on being inspired rather than threatened.

Because if we deal with what we’re seeing in the right way, it can be so good for us. There’s nothing like seeing somebody doing something fantastic to drive you on to do something fantastic too. Every good thing you see has happened because somebody had the guts to do it, the energy to put in all the hard work, and the balls to call the right person and get them to say yes. And there’s no reason why you can’t do the same thing.

Every moment you spend having a meltdown you could be using to pen your own piece of genius. I mean, sure, a tantrum might earn you a biscuit, but a little focus and perspective could earn you, like, an Oscar or something. And that victory will taste better than any snack ever could.

Less talk, more action

26/07/2015 by Charlotte 4 Comments

You know how every now and then you read a thing that has such a profound effect on you that you decide to change the way that you are living your life as a result of it? Well, yesterday that thing for me was this piece on The Atlantic about The Confidence Gap between men and women.

I mean, we all know it’s a thing – that there’s a big difference in the way society makes us think and feel about how confident we should be about our potential, opportunities and right to success – but I had never really acknowledged the impact it was having on my life, and that if I’m going to get anywhere then I need to change it.

The piece was published back in May 2014 and I just happened to stumble upon it via Twitter yesterday. (You see, if you d*ck around on there enough, you will find the most incredibly useful things. Also cats, lots of funny videos of cats).

In short, it’s about all the different elements of our upbringing, and the ways we’re taught to perceive ourselves and others that affect each sex’s approach to applying for jobs, seeking out promotions, taking risks and following our dreams. And, most importantly, it’s about how, to truly get on, confidence is often much more important than competence. Yep, that way around. It jars a bit when you read it, doesn’t it, but I now believe it to be true. Believing in yourself and getting other people to do the same, is the very best thing you can do for your life, your career and your all-round success, and this is something which – as this article says – men are much better at doing than women. And the impact of that is huge.

Because what happens when you don’t have enough confidence to give something a try? NOTHING. Nothing at all. You might have all the intention and the want and enough of the skill to do a thing, but none of the confidence to actually make it happen so therefore it just won’t.

There are, of course, many, many people who buck the trend and there needs to be more of them – women who feel the fear and do it anyway, and who know that they are just as good and just as capable and just as deserving of opportunities as anybody else.

After reading this I realised just how much my own crippling fear was holding me back. A fear of rejection, of failure and, sometimes, just of speaking up and saying what I want in case it doesn’t work out. But how are you going to get it if you can’t even say it? Is that not just step one?

So thanks to this feature, I intend to make a change. If only I’d read it sooner. Less talk and more action (ok, fine, I will probably still talk a lot – I LOVE a good chat), and more just giving it a go instead of holding all my ideas close, waiting for someone to come round to my house and ask me to share them with the world, because I just don’t think that is going to happen (and anyway I live in London, I don’t answer my front door unless I’ve recently ordered a takeaway).

If you haven’t done so already, I very much encourage you to read the whole piece. If you see yourself here then why not join me in making a change, and if you don’t, please tell me how you’ve managed that. I’d genuinely love to know.

Thank goodness for the internet and it’s marvellous power to change the way we think with just one article. High on my list of aims is to one day write a thing that has that exact same effect. There, I admitted it. And now that I’ve said it, I’d better get on and do it.

Life advice: Stop apologising for your existence

24/07/2015 by Charlotte 2 Comments

This post was inspired by two strangers I saw arguing on a train.

The two women both tried to sit down in the same seat and only realised what was happening when their butts hit into each other. From where I was sitting this was pretty funny but that’s not how it went down.

One woman took offence, whilst the other apologised. I looked at her after she’d said sorry to the other woman who had, remember, also hit into her and not felt any need to say sorry, and all I could see was regret – regret that she had just said sorry for something for which she wasn’t really sorry at all. She wasn’t at fault – neither of them were (except perhaps for being offended instead of amused by the best piece of commuter slapstick I’ve seen in a long time) – but she’d said it to try and make things better. (It didn’t work – the response she got was “I should think so too,” bizarrely.)

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learnt – and continue to remind myself of every day – is that you must not apologise for your existence.

It’s very easy to become a serial apologiser, especially if you’re a little on the under-confident side, and if you hate confrontation so much that you just want it to STOP AND GO AWAY as soon as it starts. But I really don’t think it does us any good. And here’s why:

Because it weakens your position. If you say sorry when you have no reason to people will inevitably start to feel like maybe you do have something to apologise for, like you’re someone who should be sorry for things, and you’ll also believe it about yourself. And that doesn’t help anyone. When something goes wrong, or people aren’t happy with something that’s happened and it’s not down to my personal error, I force myself not to panic and say sorry by replacing it with ‘OK’ and then asking questions to find out what needs to change. This has taken me years to start doing and it feels SO much better. Don’t just accept responsibility out of embarrassment because – spoiler – that will actually just make you feel more embarrassed.

Because it won’t get you the validation that you want. Sometimes, if feeling a little low on self-esteem, we apologise with the sole purpose of getting somebody to tell us that we don’t have anything to be sorry for, so that we then infer that this means they think we’re a worthwhile human being. It’s a pretty messed up way of thinking now I come to write it down. And it rarely works out. What actually happens is we just say sorry over and over again, receive no response, and then spiral into a vicious circle of regret and neediness which causes more sweating than any person is able to handle.

Because it undermines worthwhile, sincere apologies. Saying sorry at the right time, when you really are and need to be sorry, is one of the most important and powerful things you can do. When I accidentally threw a stone at my husband’s head whilst learning to skim stones, I said sorry because I was. That was really the opposite of what I was trying to do (particularly as he was standing behind me) and I wanted him to understand that. But I can’t apologise for every unfortunate event that happens in our lives because, unless I have a pebble in my hand and the wind is working against me, they probably won’t all be my fault.

Because it just makes you feel bad about yourself. There’s nothing worse than doing something that just isn’t genuine. It leaves you cold and regretful and feeling rubbish which is, in itself, rubbish. And we shouldn’t be doing that to ourselves. Just like the woman I saw on the train – she was visibly so annoyed with herself that she couldn’t even focus on her book after it happened, and nothing should steal you away from a good read.

Amazing how one little commuting incident can make you do a whole lot of thinking. In short: sorry is a powerful word, be sure to use it wisely. Oh and perhaps just look behind you before you sit down – you might not be the only one with an eye on that seat.

Turning 30 and the inevitable fear that you’ve done nothing with your life

05/07/2015 by Charlotte 6 Comments

I turn 30 next Saturday (feel free to DM me for my address so that you can send me cards/jewellery/hard cash) and, inevitably, I’ve spent a good amount of the last six months wondering why I have failed to achieve EVERY SINGLE THING IN THE WORLD before reaching this allegedly significant age.

I understand this is normal. Friends in the same position have said the same thing. Turning 30 seems to have a strange effect on us. We all seem to feel that by this time we should know exactly what we’re doing with our lives, that we should be excellent at doing it, and that now we should be free to sit back and chew on one of the vine ripened tomatoes we’ve casually grown in our back gardens whilst simultaneously nailing our careers, marriages and extensive voluntary work.

But I’m just not sure that’s true.

First of all, we need to give ourselves a break. We’re so quick to focus on what we haven’t done that we don’t acknowledge what we have. And in 30 years that will be a lot of things. All the lessons we’ve learnt, the friends we’ve made, the relationships we’ve had, the jobs we’ve done, the haircuts we’ve been through before realising that actually, yes, that forehead is best kept behind a fringe… So many things. So before we write the last three decades off, we’d do well to remember that they most definitely haven’t been wasted. I’ve watched Mrs Doubtfire 25 times, I’m currently on my seventh viewing of the full Cold Feet box set, and I’ve spent a good week of the last 30 years eating cheese puffs – so don’t try and tell me I haven’t used my time wisely.

Secondly, where did we get this idea that this was some kind of deadline? Alright, maybe you don’t know exactly what you want to do with your life, but that’s OK – working that out is, in itself, progress. And you’ve (all being well) got loads of time to ask yourself the right questions so that you can figure it out. People love talking to you about that sh*t because most are in the same position. Or if you’re one of those rare beasts that does know what you want to do but you’re just not there yet then WELL DONE, DO YOU KNOW HOW RIDICULOUSLY RARE IT IS TO EVEN KNOW THAT, and how marvellously exciting that you can now get on with doing it. Treat 30 like a wonderful new beginning, the decade in which you will get that job / write that book / FINALLY finish painting the bathroom. Carpe diem, hakuna matata and YOLO, dear friend. It’s all to play for.

Thirdly, it’s important to remember that success is subjective. I find it so interesting speaking to people I consider to be absurdly successful and sorted who think quite the opposite about themselves. Your idea of a day spent failing at everything might be another person’s idea of a really successful one because you had the balls to TRY whilst they were too afraid to even give their goals a go. We are all our own harshest judges which is why it helps to have a few chums nearby to remind us that we’re much better at life than we realise. And to occasionally just tell us to stop being a baby and GET ON WITH IT. That can be quite useful too.

And lastly, 30 is a good age. (I know I haven’t technically hit it yet but I imagine that the way you feel at 29 years and 359 days old is pretty similar). You know so much about yourself, what you like, what you don’t like, where you stand on important issues like whether cheese should go on top of the beans on a jacket potato or beneath (on top, obviously). You know what your values are, what kind of wife/husband/friend/sister/brother/shopping companion you want to be, and just how short your temper is when somebody pushes in front of you in a queue. This is all extremely useful information. And with it you can enter a new decade filled with good friendships, nice times and orderly queues, without ever being disappointed that all the cheese on your jacket potato has disappeared into a sea of beans.

Having thought it through, I think that turning 30 is going to be just fine. A time for new beginnings, bold choices and confidence in our selection of hairstyles. And who knows, maybe I will invest in that tomato plant after all.

Life advice: How to take a compliment

12/04/2015 by Charlotte 2 Comments

If you’re lucky then from time to time compliments will happen.

Somebody might say they like your dress, or your new lunchbox or your selection of scented deodorant, and it’ll all be very nice for everybody involved.

But for those who have – at some stage in their lives – experienced some of the more unfortunate types of comments that can be made about a person’s appearance or existence, compliments can be a hard thing to comprehend.

When you’ve taught yourself to be permanently on guard, ready to play verbal karate against anybody who happens to dislike your shoes or your hair or some other crucial life choice apparently open to public scrutiny, a genuine compliment can take you by surprise. And, as a result, you are constantly at risk of taking a chop at any innocent dude who tells you that they think you have good taste in nail varnish or trainer socks, because you automatically assume they’re out to get you.

On my list of strengths you would see: a keen eye for pun opportunities; ability to remember everybody in the world’s birthday and thus make them think that I am a stalker/identity thief; and a permanent, unfaltering openness to dessert. And on the weaknesses list, among many others, would be: extremely limited willingness to participate in sporting activities (AKA laziness), heavy dependency on crisps; and an inability to accept a compliment without making (often sh*t) jokes. It’s like an illness, for which the cure is just to stop it.

So here’s how I intend to do that:

Step one: Remember that compliments are not traps
Contrary to popular school playground opinion, life is not actually a race to see who can say the nastiest thing about another person the quickest. And compliments don’t just exist to lure you into a false sense of security before hitting you hard in the face with the fact that actually, no, your eye make-up doesn’t look exceptionally even today, it looks like you put your mascara wand into the mouth of a dog and told it to poke you in the eye.

But this can be hard to remember, so those of us in verbal karate mode are always ready with an insult for ourselves just in case, such as these:

“Hey Charlotte, I like the new fringe!

Ah yes, whatever takes the focus off my face, eh?! (*This one doesn’t even work. A fringe does the precise opposite, FYI.)”

“Very strong handbag choice, lady!

Oh this? It was so cheap they basically paid me to take it off the premises! “

“Ooh have you caught the sun?

Nah, I think I kept my face in the oven too long when I was poking at some salmon I’d accidentally cremated last night – woops!”

…whilst the other person looks on, wondering if you’ve either gone mad, or perhaps you just didn’t hear them properly when they said they liked your hair/bag/face/voice and maybe they should write it down for you next time to be sure.

Step two: Remember that accepting a compliment doesn’t make you horrendously full of yourself

People don’t compliment you so that they can be outraged at your acceptance of their words. They don’t say “Well, aren’t you good at making a casserole!” so that they can then bitch amongst chums later about how arrogant it was of you to believe that they did indeed enjoy the way that you merged meat with vegetables and [whatever the liquid that goes into a casserole is] for their enjoyment. That would be a very strange way to live your life. Now, of course, it is possible to overdo it – don’t stop them mid-sentence to call and tell your mum, or to change your twitter handle to @COOKOFTHECENTURY – but beyond that you are allowed to just believe nice words when they’re said to you.

Step three: Just say thank you and carry on with your day
Yep. That’s it. Simple, eh?

Learning to accept compliments – and that the whole world isn’t trying to bring you down, one joke about your taste in necklaces at a time – is all part of our journey to becoming a truly confident human. Being an adult means having the freedom to – as much as possible – only spend time with people who bring us joy so, rather than constantly having to keep our arms up to fend off nastiness, we can let them rest by our sides, only raising up for a hug or a high five or take a well-earned slice of cake.

And it leaves our marvellously quick minds free for more useful activities, like playing along with Countdown or spotting opportunities to make a good pun.

Because life’s far too short to miss out on too many of those.

Body image: Why it’s time to stop scrutinizing the way we look

08/03/2015 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

I’ve never been a big fan of my eyebrows. They’re seriously spiky customers, they totally give away that my hair’s dyed (spoiler alert) and they seem absolutely determined to join together as one, if only my tweezers would let them. But they let me express myself. They go up when I see something that surprises me, like a free seat on the tube, or a Buy One Get Two Free offer (seriously, they happen). And they furrow when I’m confused, like when anybody tries to make conversation with me before 9am or after 9pm, or when people don’t understand how to queue. And I’m grateful for that.

I’ve never really liked my nose. Right there in the middle of my face, like a pink slide for flies. If I’m embarrassed or I laugh too much it goes as red as a flustered tomato, and I could swear it also flashes. But having a nose means that I can smell things. I can enjoy the scent of a well-chosen fabric conditioner or a frying piece of bacon. And I love bacon. And fabric conditioner (though not together) so being able to smell them both makes me very happy indeed.

Sometimes my eyes just DO. MY. HEAD. IN. They cry when I laugh, when I yawn, and when it’s windy, and reduce even the most waterproof of mascaras to a charcoal spread. They well up at the smallest sign of kindness. Try me – offer me a crisp. But having eyes means that I can see you. That I can read back through my own tweets. And that I can look in the washing basket and see that yes, now would be a good time to do a pink wash. Having eyes really is rather handy.

I’ve always thought my arms were a bit weird. I’ve got double jointed elbows, you see. Sure, they’re handy for grabbing things that have dropped behind a radiator but that’s a party trick people only really want to see once – at best. When I try to do press-ups (which – OK, fine – is almost never), I have to think really hard about which way my arms should bend, so I’m forced through embarrassment (and perhaps just a smidge of laziness) not to bother. But with arms and hands I can put together a mean bag of Pick ‘n’ Mix. I can hug you real tight. And I can cook up a poached egg which I can guarantee will be runny in the middle. And for that I am definitely grateful, as would you be, should you wish to pop round.

When I stood in front of the mirror this morning I realised how quickly my brain automatically turns to negative thoughts. To noticing all the hairs that are out of place, the teenage skin that should surely have GROWN UP by now, the constant quandary over whether each part of me is the size and shape that it should be. It’s so boring. The time has come to stop this and just accept what’s right there in front of us – sure, wash it, moisturise it, hell, even use one of those little exfoliating sponges every now and then if you like, but let’s not waste so much time scrutinizing.

A touch of gratitude for what we’ve got, what it let’s us do, and how it makes us who we are, can only do us good. And think of all the time we’ll win back – more hours in the day to marvel at our ability to see a blue sky, to spot an opportunity for a bargain, or even to hone our press-up skills, should we suddenly find the energy.

Though, to be honest, I don’t think any amount of free time could ever make me fancy that.