One of the great things about lots of the networks and working groups that I’m in at the moment, is that I’m surrounded by really strong women, with epic ethics, amazing journeys and masses of integrity. Much of that spills over into my social circles too- sometimes I do actually manage to go out and see people in those rare minutes where I’m not glued to my laptop working!
The particularly cool thing about those women in my real-time-we-go-for-coffee circles, is that most of them tell me when I’m being an absolute and complete wally. They tell me when I’m being daft and when I need to, essentially, put on my big-girl pants and sort my shit out.
Today, mid-wobble, one of my dearest and most frank friends did that to me. It’s all over tinterwebs that I’m an anxious bunny and, talking to one of the other trustees from the BDA, I’m starting to find out that anxiety, lack of self-compassion and toxic-perfection quite often land, coincident with dyslexia. I am definitely one of those people, and I manage to find things to worry about in all the daftest of places: did I write that thing right; was the proposal for gig OK; did I say the wrong thing here; what if I sound too common; what if I sound too posh; what if ‘they’ don’t like me/what I said/what I did; what if I’ve upset someone; what if I did something wrong… ad infinitum.
My beautiful, honest and frank friend, with no punches pulled told me I knew answers, I was/am a plonker and to put on my big-girl pants and stop bine a wally.
I love her dearly and I appreciate her honesty and friendship, very, very much- people that are brave and kind enough to be honest and frank matter more than people who say all the nice things and massage your ego. Sometimes you need truth to be told and sometimes that leaning in, which is the best part of friendship and solidarity, can be a bit squishy and uncomfortable.
To lean in you to have to wriggle and sometimes lose a bit of comfort. But from that, I think sometimes the best things come, the superfluous crap – whatever that may be – falls by the wayside.
Then you get squished and moulded and wriggled into something better than was there before.
At least, that’s what my fingers are crossed for!
