The Measurements of Self Love

Ever since the ‘A4 Waist Challenge’ surfaced a month or so ago I’ve been thinking about how we find it so difficult to love ourselves. For anybody who doesn’t know, the ‘A4 Waist Challenge’ involved posting a picture with ones waist eclipsed by a piece of A4 paper being held shorter side to the top. Many questions spring to mind, first of all: who thought of doing this? Yes a piece of paper has various uses, but a template to measure the human body against has not previously been, and should never have become one of them.  When did we become so insecure that we had to seek validation from an object outside of ourselves? 

The more you think about it, the more it becomes clear that this isn’t really a new phenomenon: God knows how many lengthy battles have ensued with the scales, trying to get them down to that magic number. Calorie counting is a similar kind of validation which has existed for years: many a time I can be found willing myself not to snack, just to stay within the holy 2000. Revelation time: even though this might seem obvious it literally only just occurred to me writing this – 2000 calories a day is bullshit. It works out that it’s the amount of calories a moderately active adult female weighing 132 pounds would need to consume in a day to maintain her current weight. Who is this woman? Cos it ain’t me and it’s probably not you either, there are a million different circumstances that would change the calories needed: if I’m stressed, if I’m more or less than ‘moderately active’, if I’m on my period (hallo Cadbury’s), metabolism and even the kinds of foods I’m eating. At the heart of the matter is the fact that in general, we know when we need more food and we know when we don’t – we shouldn’t need these numbers to validate our feelings about food.

I don’t think anybody is innocent of uploading a picture to Facebook and waiting with eager anticipation for the likes to come rolling in. The number of likes obviously then takes its effect on our self-esteem for better or worse. Same thing with Tinder matches but this time you don’t even know these people, they just become part of a reassuring statistic.

I think in an age where we live so much outside of ourselves, throwing our image about on social media and being so constantly occupied with what everybody else is thinking, it’s hard to find time to consider how we might actually learn to love ourselves properly. Coupled with our obsession with numbers (50% chance it’ll rain today, 3 new notifications I woke up to) there really is no wonder that we’ve lost the ability to love ourselves organically from within, without seeking outside validation that can be quantified. So though it will inevitably be difficult and take a decent amount of time and effort, it’s would probably do us all a lot of good. 

Me, Myself and My Anxiety

Prior to Lent term this year I'd had three panic attacks in my entire life and all of them were fairly minor - I stepped outside and knew that it would be over in a few minutes, so never took the time to think about them or why they happened. Coming back to Cambridge after Christmas this all changed rather suddenly: my panic attacks went from lightweight occasional occurrences to regular severe episodes. But this didn't make any sense, I had no extra commitments this term and no extra stress, so where was this increased anxiety coming from? Other than the anxiety itself there was nothing that anyone could mention that would trigger the anxiety: my only new anxiety was about my anxiety. Just my luck.

I am very lucky in the way that my anxiety doesn't largely impact my day-to-day life. The best way I can describe it is everything is fine until it isn't. There is no large build-up to my anxiety attacks - about ten minutes of anxiety then a further fifteen to thirty for the actual episode (I swear I'm not scheduling them like '30 minutes reading, 20 minutes anxiety'). Afterwards I'll be tired and emotionally drained but re-balanced enough to operate as my normal self again. An attack feels like the atmosphere around me becomes thicker and presses in on me. Whatever I'm thinking about, no matter how serious or trivial, seems inescapable at that moment. This is what makes anxiety such a lonely mental space; the rest of the world seems kind of unreal  in these times of pure panic, one or two thoughts are all I can focus on and the worries attached to these thoughts are completely unrealistic so I experience detachment. I'm lucky again in the fact that I have wonderful friends who regardless of what time it is, will speak to me either in person or through messenger to pull me back into a state of control - you're the best guys.

When these things started happening to me I was hesitant to diagnose them as symptoms of anxiety because compared to severe anxiety disorders, what I was experiencing seemed negligible. But what I failed to understand is that anxiety is a spectrum - it manifests to different degrees of severity in different ways for every sufferer. Leading up to exam season everyone is likely to feel anxious to some degree, but if you're experiencing sudden intense bursts or anything that is negatively affecting your ability to live day-to-day life, then maybe do some research on anxiety. It isn't just a quirk of Cambridge students or something you should just expect to occur at some point. Even though it is common, it is not inevitable and therefore should not be treated as a given or trivialised in any way. I don't believe there is a threshold for when feeling anxious becomes anxiety - if you personally feel like you're experiencing abnormal or damaging levels of anxiety then you are, nobody can deny you that experience so don't be afraid to name it.

Even though the world is a scary, anxiety-producing place, try to stay brave because (for want of a better simile) anxiety, particularly attacks, are a bit like the Cindies queue: it's dark, miserable, you're not sure how you got there or how long it'll last, but you're surrounded by pals and once you're past it you're going to have the best time.

If anyone wants to ask me any questions or has any comments then please feel more than welcome to message me or drop me an email: leanne.walstow@hotmail.co.uk

Scared of Commitment? Bullshit.

I'm willing to bet that we've all either received or given an excuse for walking away from something that has centred around commitment: ‘I'm not ready to commit’, ‘I'm scared of commitment’, ‘I need commitment’, ‘what’s even the point in commitment?’ And this isn't just with relationships. It’s with plans, jobs and even (as I know all too well) dissertation topics. At our age I think commitment is something we simultaneously crave and flee from. It’s a difficult relationship and it’s about time we acknowledged the truth of it: we’re all ‘scared’ of commitment, but we all secretly know that when we say this, we’re bullshitting.

Declaring yourself as scared of commitment is such a tired trope. Perhaps that’s why we meet this phrase with outrage rather than pity, with an eye roll rather than a hug. It’s become so common that rather than a genuine fear, it’s just a part of the character of our age group. It’s a fear we all have, same as being scared that we’ll never be able to afford to own our own house – but I can’t see people giving up on this pipe-dream because they’re afraid. You have to realise that having a fear of commitment does not make you special – you’re not a free spirit, or a damaged yet charming fixer-upper, and you are not a lone wolf. You’re like the rest of us trying desperately to figure out if commitment is a question or an answer.

I think to solve the commitment conundrum we have to ask ourselves what we’re actually scared of, because it’s not the commitment itself; it’s what might result from it. Unfortunately these realities do not make the inoffensive sounding excuses what we might hope for. I don’t want to commit because: I think you’ll trap me, there might be someone better, I suspect you’ll turn out to be a dick, I'm still into my ex – none of these are particularly comfortable things to acknowledge because they’re the things we are genuinely scared of.

Being scared of these things is okay, not wanting commitment is fine and wanting to be on your own is also completely understandable. But for the sake of everyone’s sanity, explain these things and the reasons why, rather than playing the get-out of-jail-free card of ‘commitment fear’. We’re all scared of things we associate with commitment. So rather than using it as an alienating shield maybe try and think of it as the opposite: something in common.

Blog Meet World

'Not your girl' is a phrase I stole from a t-shirt. I hold up my hands and openly admit to plagiarism, sorry H&M. I call this blog Not Your Girl for the same reason I describe it as 'free-thinking', it is a non-restrictive space where the thoughts and experiences recorded belong to nobody but myself - there is no editor, censoring or endorsement. Though it is independent, this blog cannot claim to be objective since what I offer are my interpretations. My aim is to document as many of my experiences as I can in a form that though personal is also widely accessible. If you have a quick scroll through the past articles I've posted you'll see that I write on a variety of things: social issues, lifestyle, theatre and fashion are sections I've covered recently. So there really is no niche, though please don't expect the unexpected because that's too much pressure on me to be wonderfully original. Maybe expect nothing and then be pleasantly surprised when there is something (life lesson #1?).
So World, meet Blog - I'm sure you'll get along.

Past Lifestyle Article: The word 'slut' - It's not okay

28/10/14

The term ‘slut’ is obsolete. I’m stating the ideal here. Why? Because the concept of being a slut is no longer relevant to the society in which we live. Google defines it as ‘a woman who has many casual sexual partners’. Of course, the idea of a woman having ‘many casual sexual partners’ shouldn’t even be an issue anymore (more on this later), but next to this definition you will find the words ‘noun derogatory’, which pretty much seals the argument that the word slut is outdated and should never have gained any legitimacy in the first place. 

Historically, ‘slut’ was a synonym for prostitute and these connotations have trickled down into modern-day understandings of the word. Looked at in this sense, ‘slut’ places a monetary value upon sex, thus introducing the idea of someone being merely a sexual object, with accompanying adjectives such as ‘cheap’ and ‘easy’. A word like ‘slut’ is therefore part of a wider cultural vernacular which is derogatory to women.
In a society where many identify as feminists and the majority of us believe in gender equality, why can’t a woman use her body as she wishes and make her own life choices without fearing the judgment of her peers? Through years of women’s rights campaigning, I feel that there has been insufficient discussion of this topic; perhaps because of the tendency to discuss larger, more serious issues like educational inequality, unequal pay, abortion and rape. However, it is this basic attitude towards women, this fear of being judged, which often lies at the heart of these more weighty issues. 

In 2012, Laura Bates founded the Everyday Sexism Project, which gives women a space to share their personal experiences of sexist behaviour in their day-to-day lives. This project is part of a larger movement involved with identifying, highlighting and debating these smaller, yet no less significant instances of sexism or misogyny present in everyday life. Being called a ‘slut’ will not necessarily ruin your life, but it is still an unpleasant and undeserved derogation, and a negative value judgement with wider social consequences. 

The judgement behind a word like ‘slut’ is also, worryingly, wielded as a weapon to excuse rude or abusive behaviour by members of the opposite sex and, even to mitigate belief in a woman’s right and ability to say ‘no’ in sexual situations. Phrases like, ‘she was asking for it’, imply the same negative moral assessment of women’s behaviour and choice of dress as uses of the word ‘slut’. There should never be a scenario in which a woman’s appearance or actions justify the violation of her bodily integrity. Similarly, there should never be a situation in which using the word ‘slut’ is okay.

It could be argued that movements like ‘SlutWalk’ have sought to reclaim the word. In a translational movement of protest marches, which occurred in 2011, participants in ‘SlutWalk’ were protesting against the use of evidence about a woman’s appearance as an excuse for rape. The protests began in Toronto when a police officer suggested that “women should avoid dressing like sluts” as a precaution against sexual attention. While the message of the movement coincides with what I’m arguing for in this article, I don’t see its name as helpful. Instead of empowering women, or seeking to re-appropriate the word’s meaning, use of the word ‘slut’ in this context serves to support the label bestowed on women by misogynistic men and potentially trivialises a very serious issue.

This proves the point that women are often their own worst enemies in this matter. When a woman is called a ‘slut’ by another woman, we are, in effect, denying our right to sexual freedom and propagating the myth that there is a preconceived sexual norm to be followed. We are also saying that it is acceptable to place a label on another woman’s behaviour. It is significant that there is no strictly male equivalent of the term ‘slut’, which implies that this sexual norm applies exclusively to women. 

So next time you find yourself thinking, or voicing the word aloud, think about the kind of society you want to live in. No one has the right to stand in judgement of another person’s life, especially when such a judgement is used to perpetuate an image of women as sexual objects, or to ignore a woman’s right to object to sexual advances. The elimination of such a demeaning word from our vernacular represents a key step in establishing a ‘new ordinary’ – a society in which women can be equal, safe, and free of judgement for the choices they make in their private lives.

Originally published: http://www.varsity.co.uk/lifestyle/7683

Past Lifestyle Article: Success at Cambridge?

7/10/14

For a university ranked first in the UK and fifth in the world, ‘success’ is a particularly weighted term. It is the force which continues to drive the University of Cambridge to academic excellence and both a burden and a source of inspiration to its students. Before joining the ranks of Cambridge students, most of you will have enjoyed the experience of being big fish in comparatively small ponds. However, come October, this will all become a distant memory as the pond becomes a veritable ocean filled with show-directing, newspaper-editing, politically-active geniuses who manage to have that essay nailed before you’ve even started the reading, despite taking on more extracurriculars than you knew existed. What you may not know about these people is that they’re probably doing all of this at the expense of sleep, quality of output, and other elements of the university experience.

Of course, there are those super-human beings who appear to balance everything perfectly, but these are rarer than you might think and, unless you thrive on such mayhem, don’t attempt to become one of these deities. As a Cambridge fresher, you’ve just spent at least the last two years of your life working tirelessly to get here; balancing academia, part-time work, extracurricular activities and work placements in a bid to secure your place at a top university. My advice to you now? Stop!

Yes, you may have been the best in your year and enjoyed the sense of achievement; you may even have done countless miserable things just for the sake of another accolade to add to your personal statement, but you’re here now and you no longer have to work so hard to fit a particular mould. This is the time to start living for you and not simply for the reward of a place at the university of your dreams. Be selective about the societies you get involved with and to what level you choose to engage with them. It’s up to you: it’s only your first year and you’ve already succeeded in getting a place at Cambridge, so resist the fear that you don’t deserve to be here. 

First year is your chance to have fun, make new friends and try new things. You still have to work hard and sometimes it will feel like a struggle, but if you spend too much time worrying, you risk missing out on a wonderful experience. There’s help to be found if you need it and no one expects you to write anything earth-shattering in your first year. Try and let go of the compulsive need to be the best, or at least ease up on the competitiveness. One of the worst things you can do to your self-esteem at Cambridge is compare yourself to those around you; everybody here is brilliant in some way and it’s important to remember that you are too. When you do start to doubt yourself (and you inevitably will at some stage), focus on these simple truths: you sat the same examinations as everyone else, you went through an equally terrifying interview experience, and you have as much right to be here as the person sitting next to you in your lecture.

First year isn’t necessarily about being a success: it’s about having what you, personally, deem to be a successful university experience. So, take part in college swaps to your heart’s (or liver’s) content, skip a lecture to go to that audition and hit Cindies as often as you can. Keep on top of your work and relish the experience of being continually challenged, but don’t let it control you. Perhaps, for the first time in your life, you have the opportunity to work hard and play harder: seize it!

Originally published: http://www.varsity.co.uk/lifestyle/7464

Past Fashion Article: Tartan: a brief history

24/10/13

A staple winter fabric, tartan has emerged top of the style stakes again this season. Seen in a variety of forms on the A/W catwalk ranging from classic (and somewhat reminiscent of a picnic blanket) at Celine, dark and heavy at Mulberry and in toned-down hues at Stella McCartney – there really are a million ways to wear it. 

Contrary to popular belief, tartan is not exclusively Scottish at all; some of the earliest examples of tartan have been traced back to Central Europe, similar patterns were also found on mummies excavated in China from about 3000 BC. Tartan wasn’t actually a way to identify various Scottish clans until the mid-nineteenth century. Previously, tartan was simply a way of recognising which area of Scotland someone came from. The fabric’s appearance varied according to locally available dye and local weaving technique.

In a bid to control the Highlands, the British Parliament’s Dress Act of 1746  meant that those caught wearing  tartan faced imprisonment and deportation. After the act’s 1782 abolishment, tartan became the symbolic national dress of Scotland. Following this, in 1815 the Highland Society of London named clan-specific tartans, which remained popular right through to the Victorian times when, because of its powerful aristocratic and military associations, the fabric became a symbol of refinement. The revival of the tartan trend owes a significant amount to the New York Metropolitan Museum’s latest fashion exhibition on the history of punk. Tartan resurfaced again in the 1970s as part of the punk movement to represent the exact opposite of what it once had in the Victorian era. As a result of the Met exhibition, designers such as the fashion-guru Karl Lagerfeld, have paid homage to tartan in their latest collections, causing tartan to move into high street stores and into our autumn/winter wardrobes once more.

Originally published: http://www.tcs.cam.ac.uk/fashionbeauty/0030773-tartan-a-brief-history.html