Two weeks ago, I had just returned from Mallorca. It was the fourth time I had been invited by my lovely friend, and this time I was able to gleefully accept, rather than morosely yet graciously refuse. I was leaving my job. I had no excuses. Not that I ever made any up. I just never had enough holiday. So, feet first, I was determined I would not miss out on a major opportunity to let myself go. To just be. To read. To think. To swim. To worship some sun. My charming husband and our two tinkers were left to fend for themselves for five days. They did a pretty good job (although my husband lost weight while I was gone. Huh?). They went camping, to the beach, to stay with my mother-in-law and basically just have, like, a tonne of fun. Nice style.
The thing with me is that I don’t think about things enough beforehand. It’s a fault, but it’s also a bit of a positive. If you don’t over analyse, then you can’t worry too much. But then when something occurs, which you may have already considered may happen, it wouldn’t be such a shock. My husband is the opposite to me. He’s a massive forward thinker. I am not. Perhaps thats why it works so well. Although, it’s also another reason for me to beat myself up, thinking I should be something I’m not. Not that I need any more reasons.
Another thing about me, is that I struggle in large groups of girls/ladies/females. I feel self conscious. Every one looks better than me. Every one speaks better than me. Every one knows more than me. Every one seems so much more grown up than 14-year-old-inside-my-head me. It’s always been this way.It’s a very unattractive trait, and hopefully, I hide it well. I don’t really go out with larger groups of people so much these days. If I do, they’re pretty much balanced with husbands, which somehow seems to make it easier.
These lovely people I went away with provided me with absolutely no reason to feel the way I felt on a couple of occasions. They’re genuine, honest, thoughtful people. So, its obviously me and my deep rooted issues. I feel kind of sad when these feelings start welling up. I can feel them coming. And then I fill with dread. I almost feel like I want to swallow them away, like you would with inappropriate hot tears. “Go away. This is not the time or the place. And anyway, I thought you’d gone for good.” I’d love to know where this silly little itch came from. I’m sure one day, I’ll work it out.
But you know what? We did laugh. We really did. About allioli. About sangria o’clock.About football. About skin and the clouds. About nothing. And not once did we struggle to find something to talk about. I think that’s something to be proud of. I also think its a sign that you’ve found true friends. It takes a while, but its worth it. Its like a good song is rarely one you love when you hear it for the first time. It grows. And then it grows some more. And then you know you’ll always love it, no matter how much you hear it.
I came home feeling refreshed inside and out. Time, as much as we all discuss it, moan and curse it, is massively underrated. It sorts all kinds of things out. It puts things in perspective. It purges and cleanses. It allows an unhurried reflection. It may seem like it was ‘only a holiday’, but for me, it was alot more. And I loved every second.
And now I need another one.