Being of a certain age, I have had the curious pleasure of watching technology transform over the past fifty years. When I went to school, we found all our information in an encyclopaedia or at the library. When I went to University, I typed my assignments on an electric typewriter with a corrector ribbon. When I first started work, I sent out rehearsal schedules and important announcements via fax.
If I didn’t know better I would think my boyfriend wasn’t straight. He has such a great eye, he should be a stylist.
As the last vestiges of summer sigh and turn indoors, my heart grows heavy and weary of remembering bad things.
It seems to me everyone encounters sad, painful and difficult things in their lives. No one is immune. But some pain is long and lingering.
A photographic exhibition by Dutch photographer Erwin Olaf called Mature shows a series of older women in classic pin-up poses. These photos have stirred up the full range of positive and negative emotions in both men and women. For me, as maturity approaches at a rapid rate, I worry that I’ll reach the point where I’m no longer… Read More
See more of Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye at Project VOICE. If you can’t see this video, click here.
Even though my boyfriend is in another country, he still managed to send me a dozen long stemmed red roses. He’s good like that. I’m posting the photo here so I’ll always have the memory even after the flowers die.
My boyfriend has a wandering eye. When a young girl walks down to the sea in her skimpy bikini, his gaze rests on her firm, lithe, unwrinkled body. I’m going to be fifty on my next birthday, my body is curvy and soft, I have stretch marks and cellulite — I have every reason to be jealous.
I’ve learned to take a step back and ask myself what else is going on in my life. You see, I always have a strong urge to diet when things upset me. The reason is, that when I’m starved and exhausted, I can’t process any other kind of pain. It’s a game of pick your poison, and I always pick the one that is familiar and controllable — the pain of restricting and beating myself up.
This Christmas, please take a moment to tell your friends and family how you feel. Tell them you forgive them for their careless mistakes, tell them you love them even though they’ve relapsed for the ninth time.
As I read about the path taken by women in traditional stories, mythology and fairy tales, I was struck by how our own lives follow this pattern.
The curious thing is that most of us don’t realise what true transformation entails.
There is no trick to holding on to something from your childhood – you simply have to refuse to give it up. The one possession I’ve owned for close to fifty years is my pillow.
Guest Post: Twenty Years Ago…
I was this little person/Too thin/Too small/Thinking she had lost everything
