I move my cursor to the top right of my screen…”write“, it says. I click on it as it’s too enticing not to.
It’s Sunday and for the first time in months, I haven’t got any work to do. It’s weird. I love my job. I am writer. It sounds so lovely to say even lovelier to say out loud. I work seven days a week. I told myself today would be all about reading poetry and relaxing, but in all honesty—I am so fucking bored.
I did read poetry, dark poetry—Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur. Her poetry is so simple, like anyone could have written it. But at the same time, it has an effect on me. Her words don’t need to be deciphered, twisted, and analysed like the long and strange poetry we were forced to read in high school. They’re straightforward, and true. Perhaps that is why they have an effect on me… that and her brave account of how badly men have treated her.
I’m home in South Africa for now, and I have almost no stress at all. It’s weird. I sit beside the ocean and write. I hear the stillness of the night, I breathe fresh air, I feel the sun on my skin. I feel reality. It’s now my business to know what everyone is getting up to in their lives—and while I couldn’t really care, it’s sometimes nice.
These are my thoughts as the day—and week—come to a close.
Have a happy week, everyone.
After almost seven weeks in a brand new country, you would think that I would have a lot to say. In actuality, I’m struggling to find my words. The age old irony of the writer that has lost her words.
While I felt immense dread before coming to Spain, I naively had a thought that perhaps things would be different for me. Surely there is a place, a man, and a career out there in one or other country waiting for me to grab it? Sadly, Spain has proven to be quite a let down and truthfully… it’s all my fault.
I was silly to think that I could go back to ESL teaching after having experience a life as a professional writer. I fooled myself in believing that Spain would hold adventure and love for me, and that it wouldn’t matter what job I had if I was living in one of the most breathtaking countries in the world. This is one of many lies I have told myself.
I am living a lifeless life. I don’t speak the language. I have no friends. I am about to embark on a career that I don’t love while giving up on one that I do… and it’s all my fault.
I’ve taken a million steps backwards in my quest for happiness and I am overcome with guilt. I’m stuck and I don’t know how to get out without upsetting someone. Help.
I left London. I left the chaos of London. I left the disappointment of England. I left behind the love/hate relationship that I was in with the country, with the city. While I know that living there made my dreams come true, professionally, I feel as though I have failed.
Losing my job at the only company that I loved, was heartbreaking. I feel as though I had it all and now, I have nothing. The experience left me with skills that are irreplaceable and while I am still doing what I love, writing, England had a way of chewing me up and spitting me out, on many occasions. That is why I will always love and hate London.
I left it, though. “You are really living your best life,” my friends say. Truth is, I am jumping from country to country, pretending to love the adventure when in actuality, all I am searching for is love and happiness. Will I find it in Spain? I hope so.
I won’t lie – the OCD in me makes sure that I post on this blog at least once a month so that I can keep up my months in the archive list. I have missed one month, somewhere along the line, but I’m just pretending that didn’t happen.
It’s February! And after much uncertainty, I am still at my writing job in London and I am still absolutely thriving and loving it. It makes such a difference to your life when you love what you do.
I really do love that people are still reaching out to me about their worries and or concerns about moving to Korea in terms of their weight, and I am always happy to help out when possible – so keep the messages coming.
Things really are just great at the moment. I have nothing to complain about and if you know me, you’ll know that’s rare. It’s liberating to not be angry, annoyed or upset every day.
I still sometimes pinch myself to see if this is all a dream, but it’s not. I’ve made it. I couldn’t be happier with my life.
Before January gets away from me – I wanted to express the weird feeling that I have right now – it’s happiness. This is so strange for me – for the first time in my life I absolutely love my job and it’s made the world of different to my life.
After teaching in the UK for four months – and being utterly miserable the entire time, I thought maybe I was stuck in this career. I took a shot and have now got a new job as a writer in London. This is what I have always wanted!
This is such a great feeling.
Today was really something spectacular.
I’ve just come home from a holiday at my brothers place – not far from here, but a short plane ride away. It was a well-needed time off but along with any family gatherings, there’s of course irritations and annoyances. Either way, I can honestly say that I was taken care of for a solid ten days and I was very grateful for that.
Whilst on the train home from the airport – I sat and I smiled. Perhaps I should give you the backstory to this smile. I recently applied for a writing position as I have been in and out of work at different high schools around England and this profession is turning me into a bitter woman who hates every minute of her job. That’s not why I moved here. In fact, I moved her almost for the sole reason to find a job that I love. Anyway, as I was applying for different teaching roles, I thought – why the hell couldn’t I be applying for a writing position? I have a degree in English and tons of writing experience, albeit non-professional, but still. I sent out my CV to some companies, thinking not much of it. I was asked in for an interview for a well-known company in London. I went for the interview almost two weeks ago, after which I was asked to write a few pieces for one of their less popular websites – sort of a trial/test. Yesterday, I was given back amazing feedback by a few members of the company and was offered the job.
I thought about how all of this began – not this being my job application, but me turning into a passionate person. I’ve always loved to write – but for a good few years, the light inside me was out and I stopped caring about things. It was only in 2012, when I started this blog, that I re-realised my passion for writing. Thinking back, what was it that re-lit that fire within me? That made me sit down and actually write and keep up the writing, to start my book and to then further my passions into photography and film? Well, and as oddly as this sounds – I feel as though I owe all of this to that one douche bag who I dated in 2012 that made me so heartbroken that I actually started this blog. I wonder if I would of ever sat down to start it under any other circumstances? And although I still feel fucked up and bad and weird feelings for that guy – I am here now, over three years of blogging, an almost complete book and a career in the industry that I love. I also felt as though I owed some of this success to my weight. As I am coining in and talking about my experience of being overweight and the humour – I almost feel as though my body is something to be proud of. It’s one of the reasons I am sitting with something to show for my life. And thirdly, I owe it to Korea. For changing and moulding me into a brand new, spirit-awakened person.
Thank you, universe. It’s my time to shine.
Sitting at my newly assembled desk from Amazon, that an ex helped me build two days ago (I say helped, I didn’t really do much at all) listening to my “writing music”. The music I used to put on and listen to through my headphones in Korea when the world seemed like a chaotic mess of people talking a language I didn’t understand. Somehow, it annoyed me. I hated hearing the different intonations. I hated that I understood some of it and for that reason, couldn’t block it out but instead trying to configure what they were saying all of the time. I though the world would be much better surrounded by a language you did understand.
The desk is bare holding only a few items. My MacBook, a pencil case, a notebook, a can of Coke and my packet of anti-depressants. I wonder if life has actually changed that much at all? I spent a few moments before attempting this post, something that I hope turns out at least half decent as I am desperately trying to get out of the teaching industry and into something more artistic, making my list in my little book and popping my pills to make me feel better. I don’t feel better, though. My life seems like a catch 22. There is always something that makes me feel horrible in the place that I am in. In Korea, I craved the ability to form relationships with students but it was hard because of the language barrier. I thought the grass was greener on the other side, but I am afraid to admit that I don’t think green grass does at all exist.
Growing up I was often silenced and made to feel insignificant. It was a feeling, sometimes literal, that I would scream and no one would notice. I feel that way here. I’m not given any respect from the students in this country. For once, I want to be in a place where I am heard. A place physically, emotionally, mentally – where ever. I am sinking in this job and after doing so well every where else, I hate to admit that I feel as though I am sinking.