That Fear of Reacting "Inorrectly"

As humans*, I do think we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to react "correctly." Reactions are an everyday occurrence; some weighted with more pressure (that we may put on ourselves) than others. Some I believe shouldn't be weighted either because it's silly to put pressure on that specific issue or because it is wrong for them to be weighted (therefore I do not worry over them, and I never think it is acceptable for people to do so), and some, I don't know how to react to at all. For example, the other day I was talking with my friend, and we were saying that we just don't know how to react to being given presents. It shouldn't be a "thing"; this person wants to give us a present, and we just don't know how to act on all accounts! Ah, the confusion!

Some issues just are sensitive. A lot of the times because we want nothing but to protect the person who it affects the most. This does not make us bad or awkward people. It also means sometimes we don't know how to act. I am talking about the issues where someone close to us has lost someone close to them. When it comes down to it, I know I act in the moment; I'm not considering my reaction all that much. But we can overthink. Did I deal with that badly? Did I end up upsetting her more? This may cause anxiety for next time. We have to remember, we are not expected to know what to do! I just know I will be there- even if I react badly, I will be there for my friend!

Recently (I briefly spoke about it in a post), a lot of blame was put upon me and it shocked me so much that I just didn't know how to react. I was suddenly very aware that my reaction would be very important in what would happen next. The ball was in my court. I put a lot of pressure on my reaction. I needed, for myself, to say what I felt. I felt unnecessarily blamed and very not listened to. I needed what I thought to be heard. Instead I stayed silent, feeling very upset, and not wanting to make things worse. Only, this was the wrong reaction. Because eventually I realised what I was feeling had to be heard. Otherwise there would be no moving on- and now, since it happened (since I have spoken), the situation has be resolved and moved on from!

There are loads of little "subtopics" to this post that should be addressed. A friend has just broken up with their boyfriend/girlfriend and are in tears? We just have to be there for them! A friend hasn't done as well as they hoped to in something? We remind them that they are awesome, it may not be the biggest deal, and they will do better next time! We receive a compliment from someone? We should stop feeling threatened by this!

There is another part of this whole Reactions Thing. The bad bit that I briefly mentioned. The conclusion is this: I never want to be part of an "elderly generation" (of course the stereotypes would never apply to all in one group so yay for all of the elderly in whatever generation and time in the past or future who don't succumb to this stereotype) who doesn't understand things that don't require "understanding." For example, I was once sat outside and I heard an lady - maybe seventy - telling her husband that "That young lady has ruined her body with those tattoos!" Lame. Very lame. To finish this bit off (as I want this post to be about reactions that we all experience that no one can blame anyone for rather than JUDGE), this world should be a place where a bisexual man shouldn't have to be afraid of a reaction- BECAUSE THERE SHOULDN'T BE ONE. I'd list more examples but I've made my point. A point that needs to be heard more widely.

We all - even those who wouldn't even consider the fear of reacting - have some kind of limit when it comes to reacting, so let's use that as our comfort, ay?

Green & Yellow,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

*This seems like such a weird saying... is it a saying? It feels fitting anyway!

Dream a Little Dream - Giovanna Fletcher

Naturally, after adoring Giovanna Fletcher's two novels and little novel, I just couldn't wait to read Dream a Little Dream; a book that would be afternoon tea on a Saturday, if it was a meal.

If this was a school writing exercise, my teacher would ask, why? Why is it like an afternoon tea? Because it is a gorgeously sweet tale; the cream and the jam represent how well Sarah and her fantasy man, Brett work together; the scone is the honest and funny and heartfelt way this book is written; the refreshing group of friends it involves is like that refreshing sip of tea after overloading a scone with much too much clotted cream. Not that Sarah can get too much of Brett, of course.

Sarah, who is very aware of her single life and works a job she doesn't exactly love, is a protagonist I adore! For Sarah enjoys the little things- a pub quiz with her friends and lazy TV-watching sessions with her best friend. She is funny and caring, and becomes very excited at the promise of furthering herself in her job. You can't not love her.

Sarah finds herself dreaming dreams she has not experienced before. About a guy she hasn't seen for a very long time. Brett Last; a guy she only saw every now and then with her uni friends back at university. While she has to endure seeing her ex who broke her heart (as he is in the same friendship group), as well as his girlfriend who he left her for, Sarah finds some kind of solace and excitement in these sometimes bizarre dreams.

But, you can understand why she is kind of confused when Brett Last turns up at work. Working as the position she wanted. Whilst she carries on dreaming about Brett at night and working with him during the day, we love watching their real friendship evolve.

I felt very warm reading this novel; very at home. Giovanna Fletcher's writing is in a beautiful world of its own. If I would compare it to an evening; it would be a warm one, with a little cool, comfortable breeze and a big cardigan. Why? Because it's gorgeously smiley and hilarious, packed with moments where I verbally express that "awwwww" emotion.

Pub Quizzes & True Friends,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

P.S. Other Giovanna book reviews!
Billy and Me
You're The One That I Want
Christmas with Billy and Me

No Unlikely Friendships

Naturally, there are some friendly relationships that shouldn't be formed between some people, however, putting any horrible scenarios aside, I want to focus on friendships that should never deserve any cynicism. In my life (ignoring any negative concepts), I never want to not make friends because it would be an "unlikely friendship"; I want such a concept not to exist in my life.

The concept of an "unlikely friendship" should be banished from our minds as early as possible (with natural caution in some areas- can we just consider this idea throughout the whole post so I don't repeat myself quite so much?). I have definitely seen, growing up, that the concept of an "unlikely friendship" is well known by most at school. Some girls steered clear of other girls, likewise with boys, and likewise in general. Ah, it's so frustrating!

Of course, I applied the concept as a child too. I knew I wouldn't be particularly close to the naughty kids, but I wasn't unkind to them- I didn't necessarily have an issue with them! Sometimes I WAS even friends with them because they weren't bad people, I wasn't afraid to express my disapproval (oo la la!) and I would never have given into peer pressure if I was put in that particular situation. All the same, maybe I could have formed better friendships with some of them, under certain circumstances... We may never know!

So. My point is this. I have a 19-year-old-female-best-friend; I have a 19-year-old-male-best-friend; I meet up with the-kindest-man-I-have-ever-met who happens to be 40 years older than me every now and then; I natter with a 65 year old lady a few times a week; I go on outings with my brother. Etc. Etc.

When these friendships are so sincere and so fulfilling to be a part of, why would I ever consider any good person not to be a potential friend?

This is a bit of a "let's hold hands a sing around a campfire" kind of post, but my last two posts could be seen as negative (although I learnt lessons I am happy about!), and I think the world would be very smiley if we all just got on. We can dream, ay!

New Books & Family,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Just. Be. Respectful.

This post comes from a frustrated blogger at people's blind rudeness!

So, I have this best friend. A person I think so highly of, and see all of their amazing qualities. I am not the only person who sees his sincerity and loveliness. The things other people definitely see is his kindness, his generosity and his loyalty. If you're picturing this completely lovely person that I am trying to explain to you, you can understand why I am so encouraged to put this potent message across as one of his closest friends completely disrespected him: Just. Be. Respectful.

It is true that when we are so close to certain people, in a moment of stupidity, a person's worth is belittled by ourselves. (I'm talking about those times that are silly- we said something that eventually hurts us more than them.) Normally, when it is something that is so not worth horrible things happening from this moment of stupidity, we apologise. We are red faced. And we know that they know that we definitely did not mean what we said.

All the same, some people take it too far. Too far.

My lovely, sincere, sweet, kind-hearted, gentle best friend is thought of this highly by his close friend that was, well, vile to him. Let's call my best friend, just that: Best Friend. Let's call his close friend, Mildly Frustrating Person (I completely respect the guy normally, but he has been ever so slightly - actually, incredibly - rude).

So, Mildly Frustrating Person seems to be an A* student at just assuming they know best about Best Friend's life. And this is not the first time. (Side note: they predicted their predictions incorrectly.) Mildly Frustrating Person continued to be very childish by continously messaging Best Friend, thinking Best Friend was ignoring him and not replying out of rudeness, in turn Mildly Frustating Person then deciding he had a right to be angry. Meanwhile Best Friend was at work, being my lovely, lovely best friend. Best Friend had no idea how to approach the situation, feeling very uncomfortable and a bit gutted.

The text above doesn't exactly portray the situation, but I don't think it's my place to say exactly what happened- as long as my point is put across, I am happy. Basically, now, Mildly Frustrating Person is not having the decency to admitting wrong and Best Friend is upset, despite having been lovely, lovely.

We all need to start remembering everyone has other things in their life, whether that be people or work or hobbies and we are not people who deserve replies and silly things like that at the speed of light from the people who love us most.

The moral of the story is this - because at the end of the day, with things like this, we all misjudge things - we all get a bit blinded and forget how good someone is when it comes to silly things. We all have different priorities and whatnot. Assume there is a good reason for something this silly if you believe someone to be genuine and kind and good to you!

Because trust me, Best Friend treats Mildly Frustrating Peron awesomely.

A Bear & A Photo,

The Girl in the Moonlight,

Surrounding Myself with Me

A lesson from 18th June 2015

I am a strong believer in living for love and happiness (despite my pessimistic tendencies), but I have learnt a lesson about the necessity of surrounding myself with things or values simply for me. Its importance has lead to a post being written late at night, fueled with emotion.

I realised today that I need to start doing a lot more for me. I am feeling a bit gutted and frustrated and as if a lot of love I have put in has been soured with some nasty words. They do say that good things come from lessons learned. Sometimes it is hard to ignore a bit of old fashioned self pity. I think I have acknowledged a good dose of it today. Sometimes we try and try and work very hard and it can feel like it has gone unnoticed when something happens; something is said. We think, "Why do we bother with them/that at all?" Of course we should bother! We care! We love! We do! And I will continue to. But who is that other person I need to focus on? Me, me, me.

This may sound like a bitter post but I am completely refreshed from its lesson. I aim to make sure my mind is at ease when I feel particularly targeted; if I feeling like I have been done wrong, I will put my thoughts across (of course, pleasantly). I will make lots of time for my running, for me! I will bake cakes and read my book- for me! I love packing my summer with doing loads with my friends, and I will! But I am finding lots of me time, and I refuse to feel taken for granted by anyone. It is time to start saying no when my own happiness is at risk.

I am going to surround myself in stuff and people that make me happy, being here for all of the people I know appreciate my efforts.

I am going to be surrounding myself with me!

As I want this summer (and life afterwards) to be the best yet, I am happy at the conclusion that has been drawn from an emotional day.

A Few Tears & A Moving on Smile,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

The Dancer

On my way into a delicate-looking shop with fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and roses decorating the window from the inside, I briefly noticed a man with a little keyboard perched on his lap. It may be little, but as the man let his fingers glide over the tiny keys, it left me wondering whether he really was playing it. It's just, it was really something; the sound coming from it, I mean. Like a prestigious, complete with an orchestra piece. But it was coming from a tiny set of music-making keys. As I was about to step into the shop, I hear an off note and turn to see the man cringe. It was enough to convince me he’s playing, and I smiled at him. Whether he sees or not, I don’t know.

As I look idly around the shop, I find it hard to truly appreciate the little bird ornaments and pretty plaques with sweet sayings on. I can only picture the man with the green bobble hat, unshaven face, big jumper playing a little keyboard like it was the only thing that mattered. And then I can see vividly the scene outside. I imagine it hasn’t changed. People simply didn’t notice him. People carried on with their lives- maybe rightly so, but I couldn’t imagine that scenario at that point. I simply wanted to get out of the darling little shop and admire the man’s playing again.

And so, I exited the shop, and to my absolute astonishment – not that the attention was undeserved – found a crowd of roughly one hundred, maybe one hundred and twenty (I never was good at estimating) people gathered round the man with the keyboard, watching with the type of glee you see at Christmas when children buzz around the streets with little red gloves on and big warm boots as big as their big, gleeful smiles. I managed to get to the front, guiding my direction with the sound of a piano piece I had never heard of before but loved immediately nonetheless.

Now, though, he was merely background music. I didn’t like that.

But I had to watch what everyone else was watching.

I wanted to shout; I wanted to wave my hands; everyone, watch the man! With despair, I realised, my eyes were only focused on the main event I wanted with all of my heart to protest. Or did I?

There, almost blocking the man with the keyboard, was a dancer. Dressed in a red leotard and sparkly shoes, her body made shapes in the air that seemed almost impossible to me, and I couldn’t deny her of her beauty. But she was angry. For the man with the keyboard. On his behalf. She understood what I once did. What was that I understood again? Her face was beautifully carved with the most elegant rage I had ever seen.

For a moment I saw his face, and he was smiling. Almost immediately I looked straight back at the dancer. Something forced me to. Forced, maybe not. I definitely knew that I wanted to look back. 

There was a buzz going around the audience, I realised. They felt exactly the same as I did, I just knew it! Complete mesmerised and absorbed with her. But they heard the music, they did! I could tell! A little girl next to me was humming along but equally as entranced by the dancer. A man nearby was tapping his foot in time with the melody, but none of us - not one of us - understood where the music was coming from.

I didn't know where the music was coming from.

I vaguely remember a man- a man with a little keyboard, but as soon as I do, my mind becomes completely obsessed with the dancer. The dancer who dances with honesty, with reason. With anger. The dancer who promotes that beautiful music; the dancer who understands that music more than the rest of us. But, most of all, the dancer captivated our eyes. Our hearts. Our understanding. Beautiful. Delicate. 

Her dancing was inhuman, I knew it now. At first, I thought it was only me who really couldn't capture its reality. But my heart heard everyone else's hearts' awe. Her back seemed almost boneless. Flexible, yes. Bizarre, yes. Stunning, yes. Her spinning made my eyes clap. Her posture made my mouth whisper, "Wow!" Her dancing was like nothing I'd ever seen before; bizarre; incredible; strange; perfect. 

Her dancing was the only thing that mattered anymore. 

But the music was there. I didn't forget that. The beautifully delicate and sweet; angry but true song. I never didn't hear the music, even if I forget - even if I didn't care of - its origins. That music really was something.

~

Sometimes subversity is the only way to make background music shine.

Music & Dance,

The Girl in the Moonlight.