i’m probably not that nice a person

person in black hat standing in forest
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There’s a girl on my estate, a little bit chubby

And always on the field, playing football,

Normally on her own, in her own little world.

I find her annoying for no other reason

That she’s what I’d call a bit ‘sad’.

Her loneliness grates on me, and judging her weight

Is something that slides in my mind

Like marbles on a tray, there’s not much control,

I just think I’m bad, a core that is rotten

And I’m left wondering if there are others

That think they are kind, or cling to that thought

But inside their mind, they know there is something

Festering and black. Which is the real us?

The girl in this poem really exists and it makes me feel bad that I’m so cruel to her in my head. I smile at her as I jog past each day, but inside my head I’m tearing her to pieces and I’m left wondering what this really says about me?

I would never be mean like that, out loud, to anyone’s face; I want to be a good person. But sometimes these thoughts just roll into my mind, uninvited.

I’ve been spending some time thinking about why I might do this, and I’m left thinking it might be because she actually frightens me. Sometimes we see things in other people that we recognise in ourselves, and if that something is ugly or uncomfortable, it can be bloody terrifying.

What I’m saying is that I’m sure we all have those uninvited thoughts, but we probably need a bit more self love to overcome them, rather than beating ourselves up. I’m sticking to my core belief that I am a good person…

Much Love

Rachel xx

why is ‘i’m sorry’ so hard to say?

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The words come rolling from the tongue

Like bubbling water over boulders;

It can be beautiful, a photograph that hangs

In someone’s hallway or a place to picnic but

What happens when I need to stop?

When someone’s drowning underneath that peaceful brook?

When rivers burst their banks and flood the house?

And words can be as deathly strong and need

To halt but how’s that done when sorry really is

The hardest word to say? It burns like coals

That scorch the tongue with such ferocity.

It must be said, it is the only way to dam

That steady flow that’s sure to cause

Destruction to the masses, spreading outwards

If that word’s not said, so say it now

And stop the pain that it will cause.

I’m always floored by how hard it is to say sorry. When you enter a twelve step program, one of the big steps is to apologise for what you have done while your were under the influence. It sounds so easy but actually it is a really difficult thing to do.

To apologise is to make yourself vulnerable. You are admitting that you were wrong, or you did something wrong. It feels shameful and humbling and if the apology isn’t accepted then you can feel really rejected and hurt. You are essentially taking a risk.

I’ve experienced a lot of ‘brushing it under the carpet’ during my life and it’s proven to me that ignoring problems like that is super harmful. The only alternative is an apology, even if it’s both parties apologising for their part in what happened.

I guess the song is right, sorry is the hardest thing to say.

Much Love

Rachel xx

called up to the olympics

gray olympics concrete block
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I saw on Facebook, somebody had written that it would be far more entertaining if the Olympics were not for elite athletes but for ordinary people who randomly get called up for any sport. So you would get a letter through the post two weeks before telling you that you had been picked for the freestyle BMX event and you would just have to try your best.

Surely this would be great for stopping all of those armchair critics who seem to think that their nasty opinions are worth anything. The people slating Simone Biles might be less scathing in their attacks when they are called up for pole vault.

I also secretly would like to have a go at the dancing horse event; I reckon I’d do quite well at that. Any thoughts?

Much Love

Rachel xx

stop nasty facebook comments – please

grayscale photography of man reading newspaper
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They come in droves, those people who feel

The need to spout words or barbs of hate

At people that they don’t know.

I bet the editors love these folks

Who jump on the bandwagon and swim with the rest,

Angrily jabbing at keys on a laptop,

Refusing to turn and take on the current,

But keen to tell the world what they think they think,

But that don’t know, because God-like men

Make these columns like drugs and the comments,

Are the sweetest of nectars to the mindless souls

Perpetuating hate on a global scale.

I keep getting articles about Harry and Meghan on my Facebook feed and I just can’t help but read the comments – even though I know they will make me so angry. The outlets that share the stories are red top tabloids and they are fishing for a reaction, and they get it. We just need to stop nasty Facebook comments altogether.

It’s not just Harry and Meghan that get all of the hate, but a huge proportion of it is directed at them. It just feel as though the whole world is now wired to tear people down.

I don’t know how these things work but I assume that the newspaper has employees or paid content creators to comment first so that the tone is set. Once that is done it’s like mass brainwashing, everyone just jumps on and has a go at the poor souls at the centre of it.

I’m being very conscious recently, of not reading the comments and agreeing immediately. If we are going to stop nasty Facebook comments we need to learn to take stock, perhaps do a bit of our own research before we form an opinion and then air it publicly. This is how we have all become so divided and it’s depressing to watch us tear each other to shreds in an open arena.

Be kind to one another,

Rachel xx

stop and think before you have another rant

The words come tumbling out,

A torrent once held back

By bricks and mortar damns.

But when they burst

And letters form on broken tongues,

The bets are off with no control.

Flowing fast from nature’s source

Before they slow at river’s mouth.

Reaching oceans where they lose

Power and intensity.

Dissolved into the great expanse,

One might think they’ve lost their sting,

But letters never lose their hurt.

So, along with the rest of the world, I’ve started watching Tiger King on Netflix. It is a fascinating window into a life that is unlike anything many of us know. The main character, Joe Exotic, is the master of his own world and it seems that the confidence that this brings him leads to his own undoing.

The problem with this Joe Exotic is that he genuinely thinks that he is above the law and all the standards that the rest of society subscribes to. And it means that he doesn’t seem to have a clue when to close his mouth and just shut up!

I wouldn’t say that he is mentally ill, but he definitely has some personality issues that I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a field day on. And it’s like when something pops into his brain he just runs with it. If he decides he wants to be President, then he just runs a campaign. It’s bizarre to most of us but I’m sure that in his own head it all makes perfect sense.

Anyway, it’s this inability to keep his mouth shut and to know when to stop that I find so interesting. I guess it’s because I see a bit of my old drinking behaviours in it and it makes me cringe a bit.

Obviously, I didn’t run for Prime Minister but I knew that everything that came into my head was right. And I didn’t ever pause to think about whether there was even the smallest chance that I may be wrong.

Having watched this series, it’s made me think even more carefully about what I am saying. I still have a tendency to start talking before I have thought, especially when I’m stressed or anxious or feeling emotional. But with work, I’m learning to stop and breathe and think about all the possible consequences of what I’m about to say or write or post.

Normally, my first instinct isn’t a very good one and if you are like me I urge you to stop and think first. Sometimes just being silent is the best answer. When people want a rise out of you, staying quiet is infuriating for them. And, if you stay quiet then you can’t possibly say anything you’ll later regret!

Much Love,

Rachel xx