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Monday 21 October 2013

Self-love. (It's not what you think, naughty.)

Is the concept of being your own best friend the most pathetic or most liberating? 

I increasingly enjoy being independent. I have always been the type of person who needs space and time alone, but it seems that the older I get the more I feel I need it.   
I've done most of my shopping on my own for years. It's just easier to pick up what you want, sit down when you want and avoid the places you don't care for. Where I was apprehensive about going to the cinema on my own at first, I've now done this quite a few times. I'm working up the courage to do the same with the theatre.
Thankfully, I am engaged to a man who is quite the same. We are happy to sit in seperate rooms and do our own thing from time to time. It goes without saying that I love when he is here, but I also get excited about those times when I know I'll have the place to myself for the night. I love nothing more than curling up on the couch, in my stretchiest of clothes, drinking tea and watching Netflix. (Other media streaming providers are available.)

Don't get me wrong, I can be sociable when I want. There are people out there whose company I very much enjoy. When I'm in the mood to be out, it's fabulous, but there always comes a time when I just need a moments silence.

I enjoy this solitude, and yet there's still a small part of me that feels self-conscious about it. When telling others about my lone trips to the cinema, I've had several pitying looks and just a general assumption that I didn't have anyone to go with that day, that I must have felt lonely. Most find it difficult to understand why I'd choose to do this.
The fact that I feel I have to "work up the courage" to go to the theatre on my own is, if you think about it, odd really. Why are we programmed to believe that being quite happy in our own company is sad or pathetic? 
Why do I have a slight inner guilt about choosing to do absolutely nothing, with no one, on my days off?

For women, I think media in general has quite a lot to do with it. In every "chick-flick" there is a secondary female character, the best friend. In every women's magazine, tv show, etc, we are fed the message -"No matter how many times those men break your heart, you'll always have your best friends."  Never- "You are a strong enough person to get through this by yourself in time."
We're used to seeing pretty much all of our favourite fictional females having to find the perfect man in the end to be complete. (I am personally guilty of loving this sort of romantic mush.)

In general, this world is constantly drumming "Everyone needs someone." into our heads.

Maybe we do all need someone. I obviously do, as I am planning to marry a someone. Also, in times of need, I talk to my trusted friends. It's natural to want or need other people, (I doubt I would even write this if no one was reading it) but it should also feel just as natural, for those of us who want to, to be self-sufficient sometimes too.
As much as you don't want to think of it, the people in your life may not be permanent. The person you trust the most may let you down some day. The only person who will always be there for you is You. 
You are stuck with you.

Shouldn't we be allowed to think of ourselves as a friend without sounding pathetic? Shouldn't we even be allowed to love ourselves? Not in the vain sense, but in the wanting to give yourself a wee hug, taking care of yourself, buying yourself a wee present and trusting your own instincts sense?
I think so. And I do.

There, I said it. I love myself.
And you should love yourself too.

There are days, like with any other friend, where I dislike myself very much. Days where I wish I'd shut up, stop dropping things, stop eating so much, but in the end I know I can always rely on me, and somehow I find that comforting.

So go on, spend a little time with yourself (Oo-er. Now now), enjoy your own company, learn to give yourself credit and by golly, buy yourself a little present from time to time. 
You deserve it.

Saturday 19 October 2013

Happy Birthday Blog.

Today is 1 year since I started my blog! And what a quick year it has been. 
It's been a pretty big year for me, and I'm glad that I documented quite a bit of it.
My first intentions with it were just to keep it as a diary of sorts, a way to remember what I'd been doing and a place to rant. I didn't know much about blogging and just did what felt right. I didn't expect anyone other than Jake or my best friend to look at it, so I'm really quite pleased with the fact that's it's had over 2200 views to date.


I know that that might not be much in comparison to the vast blogging world, but the fact that anyone is reading my nonsense at all is a bonus for me. 
Thank you to everyone that has read, commented, complimented or been involved with my blog in any way, it makes me want to keep writing. Most other blogs that I read are more photo-orientated and probably more interesting to look at, so I appreciate those who've actually taken the time to trawl through my words.
I'm quite proud of most of what I've written, and the reactions I've gotten too. Its been nice to just be writing, and getting my thoughts out of my own head, even if they aren't works of art. I love writing. I've been writing stories, poetry, diaries and all sorts since I was a little girl, but rarely letting anyone see.
It's also been good to feel like I'm getting people laughing, thinking, even if in a small way, and hopefully giving them something to relate to. 
Also, thank you to those blogs that I've included in my Blogroll, most of you had something to do with what inspired me to start this in the first place.

In its second year, I plan on adding more: I want to add some personal touches to the layout, post more often (though I always say that) and possibly post in different ways. 
I know over the past year I've taken massive (3 months long at one point) gaps between posts, and I intend to stop that. 
I've been in two minds about writing posts about my everyday life. I had one planned last week but changed my mind, because there was no real feeling behind it. I think what motivates me to write is a feeling, or passion for something, and writing about my day out shopping just didn't have that.
No disrespect to bloggers who do write in this way, I enjoy reading those posts, and read them regularly (my general nosiness is fed in this way) but I don't seem to feel all that natural writing them myself for some reason. Maybe this is a confidence issue, or maybe I'm just not suited to that sort of writing. It could change, and I'm just going to do whatever feels comfortable.

I know I could make things a bit more interesting aesthetically and maybe try and write about my life in more detail.
I've been making a bit of effort to get more involved with the blogging community too, which has been nice. Finding new blogs to read, some similar in style to mine, and some completely different, has given me inspiration.

Thank you again, so very much, for reading. I appreciate it. I hope that you keep coming back, and that I can keep entertaining you. 
Jordan.

P.S. I was planning on baking a cake and adding a cute photo of myself with said cake. It would've been awesome. However, I am very disappointed to say that today I am really ill and look like shit, and no one wants to see that.

Wednesday 9 October 2013

I think I'm in love with my radio.

This is possibly going to be a bit of a cringe-worthy, and much less cynical than usual, post but here goes.

This is going to sound so corny, (I kind of hate that word) but I think I have fallen in love with music all over again. 

I know it's cliche to say, and at the risk of sounding like an X-factor contestant, music has always been a massive part of my life, I was brought up to appreciate it, whether I wanted to or not. My Mum would actively make me listen to certain parts of certain songs (the most memorable one being this masterpiece), turning the radio up and throwing her head back in excitement. It was all around me, as I'm sure it was for a lot of people.
I began singing in my bedroom at about 10 years old, and suspected that I was a bit good at it. I was utterly infatuated with big "diva" voices, especially Christina Aguilera, and would mimic her over-singing. (I've tried to stop that, honest.)
I didn't know for sure if I was any good at singing until I was about 15 and actually sang in front of people other than my family. 
In typical teenage fashion, music became one of the most important parts of my identity. I found solace in many different genres - from hip-hop to 90s rave, from rock to show tunes. 
I would fall asleep listening to Oasis, and dance to Beyonce in the living-room. 
I enjoyed just listening and sometimes not doing anything else.

Upon leaving school, and my teenage years, I went on to study Musical Theatre. I got so wrapped up in hearing new musicals, and exploring every type of musical, that I almost forgot there was other music out there. (Except Beyonce, never Beyonce.)(And Kate Bush actually.)
In those years, I became utterly enamoured by musicals, and I still am. I had only just discovered those painful, dark and affecting musicals, that I now favour. There's nothing quite like a song with a story and a character. Nothing like watching a fantastic actor play out that song like it is really happening to them, and making you feel every single word they sing. There's also nothing like being that actor and feeling it yourself.

The only thing was, I stopped just listening. I didn't have regular access to the internet or music channels at that time, and so became completely out of tune (ha!) with what was going on in present-day music. There were quite a few moments where someone would mention a new, and apparently popular artist, and I would have no clue who they meant, which was an odd thing for me.
I became really out of touch with what was new and by the time I caught up, everything (other than Beyonce, obviously) was just an average song with a dance beat under it, which frankly sucked. (And still does, as its still happening.)
This didn't inspire me to move out from under the safe jazz-hands-y (just kidding, I hate that kind of thing) blanket of musicals.

I don't know what has happened to spark a change more recently, but I'm going back to my old ways, and it feels quite wonderful. 
I am feeling the joy I once had in just listening, and appreciating. I've been actively researching artists that are new to me, and that spark an interest, to find more and more of their music. 
I'm still a sucker for a story though, and the songs I favour the most are the ones with a bit of backbone, meaning, depth, no matter what genre.

I've been regressing back to 14/15 year old Me's affection for R&B and hip-hop.
Right now, I can't stop listening to Frank Ocean. 
Bad Religion and Thinkin' 'Bout You are just beautiful. I have actually been looking forward to getting home, just to hear these songs again. I can't stop listening to those two, probably because I know there's a true story behind them. I'm not sure if R&B and hip-hop get taken very seriously at times, which is a shame because there is some really beautiful stuff out there.

I would also recommend Macklemore- Same Love.

I guess I can't profess to only enjoying music that has a story, because I also just downloaded Miley Cyrus's new album. (I can't help it, I love her. It was an accident. I can fight it no longer.)

Who knows where my interests will lead me next, but I hope my passion to learn more never runs dry.

And here's a (poor quality) photo of Beyonce, that I took, while standing IN FRONT OF BEYONCE

Beyonce.

Friday 4 October 2013

My dream life.

I was inspired by Ella's recent post about her dream life, to start thinking about what my own would be. 
When thinking of my dreams lately, I've either become realistic, or pessimistic, I'm not quite sure which one. 
Years ago, I used to dream of being on the west-end, or even just on stage professionally, somewhere. I used to feel like it was possible, because, well, why not? However, as the years have passed, this dream has felt further and further from possible. Now, I've convinced myself that even just getting back into theatre as a hobby would be tough for me.
It's been 9 months since I've been on a stage and it feels like much longer. 

The realism part comes from knowing my talent is limited. I think I've actually got quite a sensible grasp on how talented I am or am not. Without sounding arrogant, I am good (as a singer/actor), or at least I was before I got out of practice, I'm impressive on an amateur stage, but would probably fade into the background or crumble professionally. At least that's how I see it. And that's okay, I understand that. There's nothing that can be done about a limited talent, and I'm not even sure if I'd be suited to the lifestyle of professional theatre anymore anyway. I guess I'd be happy to settle for getting back into amateur groups, but it isn't a shame that I've done this to myself? That I've basically given up on my dream at 22?

Lately, my confidence has taken a dip once again. I don't know if it's do with the big changes in my life, the general lack of money, or the fact that I've comfort ate my weigh back to a ridiculous size and wasted all the work I put in. Possibly all of the above. I'm going to be honest and admit that life inside my head hasn't been fabulous recently. It seems that just when things could be going well for me, my lack of belief in myself stops me from enjoying it.

I find it difficult to figure out what my dream life actually is. To distinguish between what I'd want, in a fantasy world were there were no limits, and what I could realistically have if I worked hard enough. 

I'd settle for a quiet life, I'd be happy enough with a steady and reasonably paid job, that would at least give us the opportunity to save for our future wedding/life, and enable us to continue living in our lovely wee flat. 


On the other hand, if I could have whatever I wanted...

In a limitless world, I'd be in musicals professionally. I'd get to do a job that I love, and be appreciated in the right circles. No "celebrity" status or anything, I wouldn't want that. 
I'd be about 5 stone lighter than I am. (Shallow, I know, and rich considering I did and continue to do this to myself.)
I'd be able to give Jake all the confidence he deserves, and the career he wants.
I'd be able to sort out the issues within my family. They'd all be healthy and happy. We'd all get on, and Christmas would be how it used to. 
I'd be more self-confident and care even less what people think.
When the time is right for such things, we'll have the fabulous wedding we dream of and the fabulous babies, and move to the fabulous home, with the massive kitchen. (I haven't decided where yet.)

I realise that some of these dreams are reachable with hard work. And I intend to make them come true, someday.

As for the seemingly unreachable, well, who knows? That's life isn't it?

What about you? What would your dream life be like?


Click here for the original post, which inspired me to write this.

Saturday 21 September 2013

True friendship.

How easy do you find it to make friends? 
I mean true friends. The kind you can laugh with, cry with, be your relaxed, real self with, and send the ugliest of snapchats to. 
I have learned in recent years that it's something I actually find very difficult. 

In my life I've had many friends, but probably very few true ones. As a shy child, I would wait for people to talk to me and had a small group. As a confident teen, I had an abundance; some were acquaintances, some were everything to me, people that I thought would be in my life forever and now sadly aren't. I had to start again in a way, and now at 22, I am back to a small handful again. 

I thought that this was probably how it went for most people. You leave school, everyone drifts, most get into relationships, and you end up with just a few of the good ones. 
Until recently...

After leaving school I was in and out of college, trying to decide what I wanted to be. At first, making friends was a big part of it, I was still only 17 and very sociable, but the more the years went on, and I joined new classes, the less I was in it for friendship. I'd certainly interact, but not with the particular intention of seeing anyone outside of college. I was there to learn. It'd be a bonus if I met anyone I really connected with, and it turned out there were few. 

I don't mean to sound cold, I'm just pretty picky with who I give my time to. I've learned the hard way that few people are worth it and because of this I don't let my guard down easily. 

However, I noticed that it wasn't the same for everyone else; In fact some people seemed to have a new best friend within days. "Such and such is at this place with this person" said Facebook, followed by a whole photo album of the sleepover they'd had. Often, a few weeks later, they'd done the same with someone new. 
I was puzzled. How do people do that? How can they let people into their lives so easily? 
Am I the only one who gets a bit anxious about spending time alone with people I don't know very well?
I don't doubt that sometimes there is an instant connection, I've had it happen, but not every time I meet someone new. I find it really difficult to grasp how these instant "BFF" style friendships seem to be popping up all around me, and yet I remain unmoved by anyone. 

I began to wonder if the problem was with me. Am I too fussy? Do I come across as someone who doesn't want new friends? Possibly. 
I guess my general cynicism and lack of belief in people probably don't help. 
A bigger part of me wondered if these people were true friends at all. Or if it was all a bit false. Perhaps it's a combination of both.

No matter what, I have no regrets. Okay..I have some, but the mistakes I have made with friendships have taught me that I'm stronger than I thought. 
I enjoy being independent, not waiting on anyone, going to the places I want. Quite frankly, other people irritate me rather quickly. 

I'm lucky to have the small group of trusted friends that I do, and also family, who I know will be my friends for life. 
I always say it's about quality, not quantity. I'd rather spend a night with one really cool person, doing nothing, than a night out with people I don't know much about. 
I guess it's possible that I may have missed out on friendship opportunities, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. 
What's for you won't go by you and all that nonsense, eh? 

Personally, I need time to decide if someone is truly worth it, and if it turns out that they are, they will have a hard time getting rid of me. 
To me that's what real friendship should be about.

What do you think?

Wednesday 19 June 2013

Social obligation.

This post may get me into trouble in future, but here goes...

I find myself smiling, nodding, chatting, small-talking to people I only sort of know and/or know I am not going to be life-long friends with, every day. You too right? 
It's not a massive inconvenience or anything, but the older (and more cynical) I get, the less patience I have and I'd really only rather talk to people I genuinely enjoy talking to.
I like to be nice, I am actually decent and I try to take an interest in people lives. Ask them about their jobs, family, whatever, because it's nice to do that. However, I often wonder whether if it was more acceptable to be truly honest, I would actually bother? 
I realise that this is going to make me sound miserable to some people but there must be someone (probably a few) in your life that you feel this way about. You see them. You cross the street, you don't have time today. They cross the street too. Oh dear. 
These aren't particularly unpleasant people, just the ones you don't have much in common with and/or don't especially care to spend time with.

I was inspired to talk about this due to an experience I had last week. I found myself in a group situation, where smaller groups were having their own conversations. I was engrossed in an interesting exchange, when I found myself being introduced to a friend of a friend. I discovered pretty quickly that although this person was fine, we weren't going to be forming any close bonds that evening and so decided to take the initiative to turn and carry on (possibly a little abruptly) with the former conversation. I don't always do this, and I realised that it made me seem a little rude, but I also felt quite strongly that it's what had to be done to get the best out of my night.

It really made me wonder: would it be a better world if we could honestly and politely step away from small talk? Shouldn't we, as mature adults, be able to say "I'm sure you're a very nice person but I can tell you don't have time to talk about your dog and I don't really want to listen, so why don't we just call it quits and get on with our lives? Good day!" or "I don't actually know you outside of work and I know we're both only having this conversation 'cos society says so. See ya'!"?
Or words to that effect...

Now, I'm guessing not everyone is as miserable as me, I'm guessing some of you even enjoy chatting, if you do, bloody go for it. 

Don't get me wrong, I love a chat with the right sort of person. If I'm honest though, I've found that the majority of people you meet want mostly to talk about themselves. There seems only to be a small percentage who actually listen and want to get to know you.
Wouldn't it be easier to cut out those social obligations you don't actually care for? C'mon.

On the other hand, maybe thinking in this way will stop me from getting to know people I could potentially be fond of. (Though I have to say, I've gone with my instincts in the past and that's usually worked.) Maybe I'm selfish. Maybe I'm just plain rude. Who knows?

All I can say is that I really hope this post doesn't cause everyone I know to avoid me in the street.
(Though it'd be a bonus if it got rid of some.) (Kidding.)

Wednesday 12 June 2013

Life adjusting.

In my last post I spoke about the "life-adjustment" I recently went through. 
"A slightly impulsive and scary decision to change my life at the cost of my career, but for the sake of my well-being."
Basically, I left college pretty much unannounced. 
Looking back at this old post http://jordanaan.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/my-new-attitude.html it seems it was inevitable. (Though that post wasn't aimed only at college.)
This may be quite a controversial post considering some of my former class-mates may read it, but what can you do? All press is good press right?

I left for many reasons but basically felt that it was an unprofessional place where students were not all treated equally; to get ahead you had to be sucking up to lecturers, which I was never willing to do. People who worked hard were condescended to and never given any credit. I could go on for days about the issues I had with the place. (Put it this way, I've tried to contact my lecturers on three occasions since having left, and have received no replies. That was three months ago.)

 I felt that I was (for want of a less dramatic term) sacrificing who I am, and had been for months and months, keeping my mouth shut for an easy life and the hope of things getting better, when really I wanted to scream. I was always taught that if something is bothering you, you speak up. Why should I go into a place everyday that's making me unhappy? It may sound a little dramatic, but at times I was so down and the anger would itch away at me. Not feeling listened to was really affecting my confidence. Which is ridiculous and makes me angry just to think about. So one day, with only a few months left, I decided "After today, I'm walking away from this." I didn't feel that anything positive could come from it anymore.
By doing this, I knew I'd really be limiting my career options, and also wasting nearly two years of my life. 
I had to decide what was more important: a career (which of course is never certain anyway) or my pride and morals. I chose to walk away, and I am still very happy with my decision to do so. 
Of course, nothing is perfect, and I'm now working part-time, struggling a little and figuring things out, but by god am I happier than I was. I can't believe I ever put up with it. I also have someone in my life who has supported me all the way, which makes me very lucky.

If anyone reading this is facing a similar decision, feeling afraid to take a big step, to walk away or even into something that seems scary but you know could make you happier, I hope I can inspire you even a little. Go with your instinct, and even it doesn't end up working out you can be proud that you stuck with your gut. The most important thing is your self-worth, and the bottom line is that in life you don't need to put up with shit. You actually don't. Who cares what anyone thinks?


I don't know what I'm going to be when I grow up. If that ever happens. I don't think my ambitions have changed, it just might be a little harder to achieve them than I thought. Who knows?


I know life is going to throw much harder decisions at me than this one, and I feel just a little bit less afraid of it now.

Monday 10 June 2013

Anti-social networking.

Hello there.
How nice of you to drop by. Especially considering that I haven't dropped by for 4 months and I apparently write this thing. 
I'm going to try not to dwell on the disappointment I feel towards myself for having abandoned this for 4 months. I've been going through a bit of a life adjustment, shall we say, and made a slightly impulsive and scary decision to change my life at the cost of my "career", but for the sake of my well-being. 
Anyway, we'll get to that at a later date. (Hopefully in a week or so, and not 4 months.)

I'm going to discuss a topic that's been on my mind for, well, several years actually and with the ever growing use of social networking in all of our daily lives, it has become an increasing thought. 


I ask you, ironically: Is social networking a positive or a negative way of getting to know our peers?


Okay, take this situation... You meet a new friend, a person who seems nice, funny, someone that you may wish to spend more time with. You inevitably add them as a facebook friend and to your horror they are not the same likable person online as they are in "real life." Whether it be their constant posting, need to share too much, need to use "xx" after every post, bad spelling or controversial opinions, something has slightly (or in some cases totally) put you off the perfectly acceptable person you met. I'm guessing that this has happened to someone other than me? 

I've also been in an opposite situation, where a person seems much more funny/interesting online than they actually are in a face-to-face conversation. 
Consciously or not, I am judging people by what they post online.

In recent years, where 95% of people I know use facebook and/or twitter, a considerable percentage of my opinion on a person can come from what they post on social networks. I ask myself regularly whether this is a good thing, when the same person 10 years ago wouldn't have been able to be judged in this way, when facebook wasn't the norm.


Are we lucky to have this new way to learn more about our associates, as a warning, or as an added perspective? Or is it detrimental to our ability to make friends properly? Should we take someone's online "persona" into account or is who they are in real life the only important thing? 


As I write this, I become more aware of the fact that you may feel what I've been describing about me. Who knows? How do we know if what we say online is an accurate representation of who we actually are? Or is the point actually to do the opposite, and allow ourselves to be something else? 

I'm not saying that social networks can only create a negative impression of a person. Just as often, I've gotten to like a person more upon seeing their posts and learning that we have more in common than I thought. 

I just find it hard to completely trust in the online persona, after having the experiences I described earlier.

In all honesty, there's a part of me that thinks social networking might actually be pretty unhealthy. I hate myself for wasting time trawling through often mindless posts and for actually caring. I also cringe at those who feel the need to share far too much. However, I still use facebook and twitter every day, probably only because everyone else does.


I can't come up with a definitive answer to my own question. Part of me is glad that I've been able to warn myself off of certain people, upon learning that they have no online boundaries. Part of me hates that I can slightly judge someone that is perfectly nice to talk to, because they can't spell or punctuate to save themselves.*


I would like your opinions on this issue, my online friends, which makes this post all sorts of ironic. Post a wee comment below. Promise I won't judge you for putting "xx" after it.


*This post really puts pressure on me to spell and punctuate properly doesn't it? Gulp.

Wednesday 20 February 2013

A question of intelligence.

I have a question for you. Would you rather be intelligent and sad, or stupid and happy?

Now, of course, the term I'm using "stupid and happy" has a broader meaning. I don't mean just stupid. I mean ignorant, oblivious. Those sort of people that you meet in life who obviously haven't really thought much about the consequences of their actions, and show no sign that they ever will. Y'know?


They say that more intelligent people are more likely to suffer from depression. This is probably due to the fact that are more likely to be stressed and worried, by over-thinking parts of their lives for example their lifestyle, health, career, money or relationships. They're possibly more aware of the negatives aspects of life and have a more realistic attitude to their likelihood.

I don't mean to float my own boat at all, but I am one of those people. A worrier and an over-thinker. I can very easily bring myself down just by thinking too much about what might go wrong, what might not work out. Which I know is silly and a waste of time. It's a part of my brain that I really wish I could escape from.


So, and it may be ignorant of me to say this, but in some ways, wouldn't it be much easier to be a bit stupid? To not think, for once. To be too ignorant to realise that you'll never be a West-End star, or as hot as Beyonce, or a size 8, and therefore spend no time worrying about it? To be too wrapped up in yourself to worry? Or to be in a relationship that will probably never work out but be too naive to know? Wouldn't it be nice, in a way, to be unemployed, on the dole, and have no intention of ever changing that because you just didn't give a fuck? It probably would. (These are just some examples; I don't mean to stereotype or insult anyone.)


I mean, a prime example of this "stupid and happy" sort are children. Children are completely oblivious to all the bad in the world and are blissfully happy never having to. It's probably another reason why so many people are depressed; childhood fairytales made life seem so much more promising. And dogs. Dogs are happy as fuck, all the time, because they don't have a clue what's going on.


I'm just saying, wouldn't it maybe be nice to be free of your own troubling thoughts and worries, and just be...a bit stupid, even for one day?

I think it might.

Send your answers on a postcard. Or just comment below to save money on stamps.

Wednesday 30 January 2013

Labels an' that.

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I really didn't mean to not blog for over a month but life got in the way. I'm not really sure that anyone's exactly waiting for a post anyway but I do enjoy having a wee moan on here.

At the end of last year I was planning on writing a post about an issue I've pondered for a while now (which I will come to mention in a moment) but then someone went and changed my circumstances and now...well now it's thrown a whole new spanner in the works really.

The issue itself is more of a question to those in a relationship, and especially more long-term/established couples: do you struggle to say the word boyfriend/girlfriend?
I've been in a relationship for nearly 4 years now and this has never really gotten easier for me. I don't know what it is. Any time I have to mention Jake to someone new, who doesn't know his name, I find myself slightly cringing at having to say "my boyfriend." I think part of it is feeling like I seem self-important (a trait that I can't bear*) or boastful. There's nothing worse than those "MY boyfriend this and MY boyfriend that..." people is there?
But...he IS my boyfriend, and after 4 years surely I'd feel I've earned the right to say that?!
I also think it's partly because the meaning of the word boyfriend/girlfriend is too broad. It could be the word used to describe the relationship between two tweenagers in the playground and I don't feel that applies to Jake and I, who've lived together for 3 years and shared everything. It feels like there should be a better, more mature word than boyfriend, but not as boring as "partner." Y'know?

I don't think I'm the only one who's had this problem. I have noticed others cringing at the moment when they have to describe the status of their "significant other." I'm sure I have. 
I'd genuinely like some views on this. 

Anyway, originally I was planning on going further in-depth on this issue but then my damn boyfriend proposed to me and now he's my fucking fiancé.


*Girlish squeal*

This was a massive surprise and joyous, wonderful thing.
Honestly. 

How the fuck am I going to say fiancé?!!! 

"Boyfriend" was much easier than the most pretentious word in the world.





*I feel I should add that although I say I can't bear self-importance, that's basically all my blog is based on. Queen Hypocritius. 

Be prepared for a Gossip Girl blog soon as the last episode aired a month or so ago and I'm still feeling raw about it. Thank you please and goodnight.