My mum is my biggest fan. She is my absolute biggest cheerleader. The first person to watch my IG stories (because she somehow worked out that she can receive notifications of when I post anything…) and the first person to message me every single morning when I wake up. But, her being of the Baby Boomer Generation, and me being a millennial, have some very differing opinions and outlooks, especially when it comes to social media.Continue reading
I’ve sat here, in front of my laptop now for forty five minutes. If that’s not a testament to the very subject that I’m trying to write about, then I don’t know what is.
In the hook up culture of today’s millennial generation, there is an abundance of apps that make causal encounters easier than ever before, including Tinder, Bumble and Happ’n to name a few, but in a world where one night stands are a mere click away and sex is pretty much readily available, the flip side is an generation who value monogamy and fidelity more than ever.
Sat on the sofa eating Pad Thai and half watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, my good friend (who’s never short of verbal ammunition for my blog) was talking to me about newly acquired boyfriends. To be more specific, she was talking about a mutual colleague of ours who recently coupled up, and has already moved into his place after only two months of dating.
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.
If honesty is the best policy, then why does the truth so often hurt? And if there is no such thing as a good lie, is there such a thing as being too honest?
One thousand, one hundred and ten days ago today, (it was a Friday) I upheaved my life and took it to Dubai. I cried mascara tears on the shoulder of my mum’s brand new white t-shirt as she told me, “I’m only going to say this once, but it’s not too late to change your mind if you don’t want to go.” Continue reading