YES WOMAN: PART DEUX.

I’m sitting in a cute little cafe called Ohh Boy, in the Aminta area of Athens, smiling like a slightly crazed person. I have an iced coconut coffee next to me, a cute dog opposite me, and a bowl of greek yoghurt, fruit and honey to the left of me.

Last week I blogged about how saying ‘yes’ to things that I’d usually find an excuse not to do, was changing life for me, albeit in a short period of time. Over the past few months, I have been reading a lot of books on how not to give a fuck about all the things I have given too many fucks about for too long, and somewhere in between all those words, I think I may actually have gradually started giving less fucks.

While the majority of people reading this blog, might be belittling my achievements by thinking, “Big whoop, I do x, y & z every day.” well, good for you! (That sounds sarcastic, but really, it’s not, I promise!). I mean, some of my friends, (one in particular who has travelled to the Amazon rainforest and trekked to the top of numerous famous mountains, ALONE) have taken far bigger leaps of faith that only serve to minutiae my accomplishments of the past week in comparison. Just last weekend, one friend literally jumped out of a moving plane – something I’m not sure I’ll ever have the balls to do. How amazingly brave is she for doing that!?

After reading through some of the responses I’d received in light of my last post, I came across one which really made me reflect on what it is that I am so afraid of. I am not afraid of eating alone, or sleeping alone. I am afraid of trying things and failing. I am afraid of dating people, liking them, and having my heart broken. I am afraid of getting attached and then they leave. I am afraid of being vulnerable. I am afraid of going travelling alone and then realising I am stuck with loneliness in own company. However, I was afraid of a lot of things happening to me, but when they actually happened, it wasn’t the end of the world. The world didn’t completely crash down on top of me and end, it kept on going.

In light of my new found perspective, I feel like I’ve come to terms with how my close friends group dynamic has changed, (some kind of battle I’d been struggling with and something that was really upsetting me), and I now feel more independent than ever before. All it took for that mindset to change, was some different perspective and advice from another good friend and a bit of my own tough love. For the first time in my adult life, I booked and organised an entire trip by myself – something I’ve always allowed others to take care of because – well, because of many reasons. Some of them being;

  • I never trust myself not to fuck it up – by booking the wrong dates or something.
  • By booking somewhere that’s in a horrible area or miles away from anywhere.
  • Being too indecisive to choose somewhere and leaving it til the last minute when the prices have then quadrupled.
  • Laziness? Maybe…

Partly though, I have always been spoiled by my job, friends and family who are all only too happy to organise the finer details when it comes to trips and I am only too happy to show up with the passport and luggage.

The point is, I booked flights, then researched the area near my friend’s place, and chose a cute but not-too-expensive, not-too-cheap, Air BnB with chalk board walls and a balcony. I organised – through my accommodation – airport transportation, and I packed a few days before to avoid being last minute outfit stress. Due to my tiny suitcase, I arrived, took two minutes to speed through immigration, and was in my place one hour after I landed. Why the hell hadn’t I done this before? Have I really been missing out this whole time due to fear??? Where were all the complications and hurdles that I’d envisioned in the past??? An hour later, my friend rocked up to my place and the Athen’s adventure ensued. After exploring the city on foot for hours, I went to sleep last night feeling more chilled out than I have in months, tummy full of amazing food, white sangria and some kind of Greek desert that came drowned in Nutella. Out of Dubai, I didn’t feel guilty about the calories, despite my recent anxiety about not being a size UK8 with massive boobs and a lack of arse that could rival a Kardashian. Just being with my friend and being our whole selves, shoddy, imperfect bits and all, just felt so liberating. Being in a city where there’s less pressure on the materialistic things just felt so liberating!

It got me wondering why am I so scared to leave Dubai after all. He took the plunge and left Singapore to reset back home, and he’s doing great! Granted, he’s from Greece, land of historic architecture, sun and yoghurt, and I am from Scotland – where it rains incessantly and depression rates are high due to an alarming Vitamin D deficiency, but I could live in Europe too if I wanted – if only I was brave enough too!

Being in Dubai, I place too much emphasis (ie. give too many fucks) about things that I probably wouldn’t care so much about if I was living somewhere else. I never really believed in the laws of attraction before, even though a good friend of mine has preached it to me since the day I met her… but since becoming a ‘yes woman’, and caring less about the things I cared way too much about before, lots of great things have manifested themselves to me, and maybe my friend was right all along…

By surrounding myself with the right people, and with the wisdom of Carin Rockind ringing in my ears, I’m going to turn those “I can’t do that!” into, “how can I?”, and I am going to encourage all my friend’s who are holding back on the things they want to do because of fear, to FEEL THE FEAR AND DO IT ANYWAY!

Watch this space, for Yes Woman part 3. Coming to you when I get a minute soon.

And on that note, I have finished my second coffee of the day, so now I am off to do some more exploring in Athens. I have a feeling I’m going to have a soft spot for the city and it’s unfinished-looking walls when I am done.

 

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