Gold Stars For Grown Ups

Life gives you little reminders in funny ways.

Today I got one in a queue.


It is a truth universally acknowledged that people in queues do not want to be queuing. In fact I think it's safe to say that anyone who has ever stood in a queue has not been happy about it. This evening I was in my third queue of the day: after the Underground ticket line, the Post Office, I was now standing zombie-like in the supermarket. I only wanted some milk, and the shortest line had three people in it. As anyone would agree, that was THREE PEOPLE TOO MANY.
As I waited, the checkout lady seemed to operate in slow motion and my mind sunk deeper into a pit of impatience. I watched the checkout staff distract one another with conversation. Why did they have to chat? The man in front of me had a little girl and I watched as she played peekaboo with the checkout lady. I smiled, but in my mind I wondered how long this was going to go on for.

And then AT LAST the man took his change and was turning to leave, when the checkout lady asked the girl, "Have you been good?"

The little girl stopped to consider the question.

"Yes! I-I-I....I got a gold star!"

The checkout lady smiled at her. "Did you now?"

"Yes! I got.... three! Three stars."

The queue stared at the checkout lady, waiting, watching.

The father stared as his daughter wondering what to do.
At the same time the little girl stared at the checkout lady, waiting for a response to what she clearly felt were notable achievements.

And so the checkout lady said, "Goodness! Was that today?"

Proudly, the child replied, "Yes...  But also..."  

And she counted out on her little fingers, staring up at the ceiling as she worked it out.
"Monday.... and then... and then... and yesterday..... and...... and..... TODAY."

"Well!" said the checkout lady, ready to wrap this up but not really knowing how.
The father looked nervously at the growing queue.
But everyone was looking at the little girl, who clearly had more to say on the matter.

"Cos.. cos... we get gold stars..." continued the girl, "but you have to be good!"

And so, the conversation reached its conclusion.
The relieved father led his daughter away, and everyone in the queue was smiling, looking a little dazed. Like they'd all experienced a moment of clarity.
The checkout lady gave me an apologetic smile as she scanned my milk.
"Well hey," I said to her, "One should always be proud of one's achievements."
"Oh yes, " she replied, "A gold star is a big deal at that age."

Then she added to herself, "I'm still waiting for mine!"



You know what?
We don't get gold stars anymore; nor do we give them out. That's because we're adults - we don't really need a sticker to acknowledge when we've done well. Or do we?
Unfortunately (being adults) we're all far too coy to shout about our achievements. That's kind of depressing, don't you think? Given we surely achieve a heck of a lot, being grown ups and all? We're so busy worrying, scowling, getting stressed, getting distracted, welling up with impatience in queues... what about the good stuff? What about that great feeling of accomplishment? The fact we are here! Doing what we do! Making life happen! Why do we forget about that?


Next time you do something you're proud of, freakin' well shout about it! TELL someone!
Even if it is the supermarket checkout lady.


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Feel free to give yourself a gold star and shout about something you did that you're proud of in the comments. Anything at all! SHARE IT!
I'll go first.

The Good Shoes

I received a very special gift for my birthday this year. A meaningful one. It was a material gift, yes, but it was what the gift stood for, and where it came from, that meant so much.

I'm hardly going to bore you by discussing my finances, but I will just say that I don't have any disposable income these days. Since going freelance I'm working my butt off to get the rent paid, and that's about it. I've also been hunting for a day job but as yet have not been successful. So when my papa sent me a crisp note in my birthday card, I knew I would treat myself to something.

Unfortunately, I could only get one thing on that big mental shopping list in my head. I mentioned this on Twitter, as a completely throwaway, meaningless comment. I mentioned the shoes I really wanted, but which I would have to forgo in lieu of a new bag. (I'd wanted a new bag for a long time, but then I also don't own many decent pairs of shoes... heck, even the investment of my birthday money required careful consideration!)

Then I got a message from someone on Twitter. Someone I have a great deal of respect for, but whom I had never met in real life. The message I received completely took me by surprise.


This person offered to buy me the shoes.

Naturally my first question was, "But why would you want to do that?"

Their response? They knew about my struggle with the job hunt. They saw my determined optimism. They knew "how much little pick-me-ups can mean and what they can do for morale."

The genuine kindness of this gesture took me aback. I mean, we live in a world of "each for themself". How can someone be this generous?

I wanted to do something in return. Give them something. But they were having none of it. They insisted that the warmth of having done something good for someone else was payment enough. That they were once on the receiving end of a good deed and were now delighted to be able to pass it on.

I have to respect that. It's not hard to be generous but it actually takes a lot of guts. And if it makes that person feel good, then even better. So (partly still in shock) I accepted the offer of the birthday shoes.

Sure enough, the shoes arrived a couple of day later. Despite my stupidly big feet, they fit like a glove. I absolutely love them, but all the more for the kindness that had brought them to me in the first place.



I am not going to name the person who sent them to me, because I don't want them to feel uncomfortable about their generosity going public (plus they might start getting inundated with requests for shoes....). However, I hope they read this, and understand that they have inspired me. I will take the steps in these shoes to make someone else smile.

And you know what? It's not hard to find opportunities to make someone's day. I now keep thinking about all the countless things one can do, and that list really is endless. I intend to pass on the kindness, and I also hope this would be passed on again, until everyone's days are a little brighter.

The great thing about good deeds is that they are contagious. If we all did one little good deed every day, imagine how far they would spread!

So for my birthday this year I was given the gift of shoes, but also the gift of inspiration. A reminder that even the smallest good deeds can mean so much. I won't forget it. Especially when I wear my new favourite shoes.

Real Is Not A Size

The equalities minister Lynne Featherstone has declared that Christina Hendricks, star of the TV series Mad Men, should be a "role model" for women and the fashion industry to aspire to.

In her (absolutely admirable) mission to combat the unhealthy ideals encouraged by the beauty and fashion industries, Featherstone is battling the "unrealistic stereotypes" of stick-thin models in magazines and advertising. And in the process, Featherstone has singled out the buxom, size 14 Hendricks as having the ideal female figure. "Christina Hendricks is absolutely fabulous," says Featherstone. "We need more of these role models.”

I find this a particularly interesting statement to make. Without question, I believe that we need to create more positive and realistic role models for young women. Overtly skinny models are blamed for encouraging a negative body image, and I think that they do create a dangerous ideal for girls. However, holding up the figure of Christina Hendricks as the ideal body is actually just as risky. With her waspish waist and large bosom, is her figure any more attainable than a wispy model’s? I feel that while heralding Hendricks as the perfect body will bring a sigh of relief from the naturally curvaceous girls - who have previously strived for a lithe figure they can never have - suddenly there are new impossible goals for women without curves.

In truth, society might be trying to make things better, but its view on body image is still skewed. In trying to change the attitude that “skinny = good”, it has merely flipped to “skinny = bad”. This is an entirely unfair perspective as of course, many women are naturally thin, and suddenly they are supposed to feel bad about themselves. It’s exactly what the “skinny = good” perspective has been doing to big girls for years. I appreciate what Lynne Featherstone is trying to achieve here, but this is not improving our ideals, it is merely switching them around.

Everyone loves to declare that women come in all shapes and sizes. So why is nobody accepting this fact? The media frequently discusses “real women” to describe anyone size 14 and up. How unfair is that statement? So women who are lean or petite are not real? So they are somehow bad people? I am not of a thin build, but if I were, I would be feeling pretty bad about myself right now.

Creating any “ideal” is going to cause body criticism somewhere else. It creates a divide. For example, I am big-chested and I find it a troublesome feature: as well as trying to find clothes that fit well, a large bust also draws a lot of unwanted attention. Yet society's "ideal" includes big boobs, so I don’t feel I am entitled to complain. In effect, I am wary of discussing how frustrated I am with my excessive bosom, because excessive bosoms are the desire of anyone who hasn’t got them. Any comment I make about being lumbered with their size is misconstrued as bragging... and I am inundated with remarks that I’m lucky and should “show them off” more. Yet on the flipside, small-chested women who discuss their desires for bigger boobs will receive nothing but empathy. This is what happens when you set a single ideal: everyone is expected to want the same thing.

I know naturally slim women who complain about feeling boyish and who long for curves. They too seem reluctant to talk about it, as if skinny women are expected to feel grateful somehow. Why are we unable to celebrate more than one shape? Why must we choose a "side"?

Skinny is only a negative thing if someone is unnaturally so. Just as curvaceous figures are only negative if unhealthily so. I believe if there is to be any ideal it should simply be a healthy, happy version of every woman’s own individual figure. There should be no negativity about a certain shape. The reason we are so unsatisfied is because we are all SO different, and trying to fit ourselves into an ideal is completely disasterous. It sets women against each other, turning critical eyes towards fellow females, and against ourselves.

If you have a body like Christina Hendricks then enjoy it. If you have a body like Keira Knightley, then enjoy it. Whatever it is, your figure is your own. Embrace it. Be healthy and happy. There is no perfect dress size. The term "real women" should refer to women who are real, whatever shape that might mean.

Risky Business

There are times in life when you have to ask yourself that most insightful of all questions:
"What is the worst that can happen?" For me, I was a publishing assistant. I liked my job, but alas, I didn't love it. I had finally got my foot in the door in publishing, and yet after a year I still found myself in the same situation as I had been in before in every other job I'd ever had: I just wasn't where I was meant to be. I knew I was capable of so much more, and yet taking the safe job options was never going to allow me to that.

So I decided to take a leap, and I resigned from my job. And I didn't have any other roles lined up. I just decided it was time to start doing what I truly wanted to do. No time like the present. It is amazing the different reactions a move like this will give you - many friends couldn't understand why I would put myself in a position where I am not earning any money. So many times I was asked, why I hadn't decided to stick out my old job until I had found a new one? I was tired of waiting things out, locking in another safe option, and ending up in the same position. If I wanted to start following my passions, I had to do it right now, and I had to take big risks.

It seemed to me as if we have become so reliant on the security of a job, that the concept of not having one is completely unfathomable. (I had a similar reaction when I told people we were not having a TV in our new flat - people have come to rely on television so religiously that they cannot see past it, and imagine life without one). Yet what I have come to truly realise - not just agree with but actually understand - is that this is our life, right now. It's not a rehearsal. I should have done this years ago, so why wait another day?

Every day we get up, go somewhere, and spend the whole day doing something in particular. So surely we should be doing something we enjoy? Far too many people don't like their jobs but they stay there and continue to do it because they like the security of the pay packet, and the comfort of the familiar. Others admit that they don't like their job but they do it for the money, so that they can fund their lifestyles outside of office hours. Sure this makes sense, and in fact I used to subscribe to this exact school of thought myself, but I've since learned that for me, this isn't the way I want to live.

I was earning very good money as an executive assistant for one of The Big Four firms in London, and while I could buy nice things and go to nice places, I wasn't fulfilled. I was selling my soul. When I took a significant salary drop to work in publishing, I found was much happier, and, most amazing of all, having less money didn't actually make me miserable. Right now I am earning nothing (albeit for the short term - there is rent to pay after all) but I feel great. A little anxious, yes, but believe me - great. I am grateful too that my boss at the publishing company was fantastically supportive, and let me go (replacing me with two people, I might add) because I am now free to work for myself.

Suddenly my fate is in my hands: what I do each day is of great consequence, and my motivation is put to good use. It is an amazing feeling. I have never felt so free! Sure, it's terrifying, intimidating, and my energy levels come and go in peaks and dips. I can spend two days believing I can take on the world, and then spend two days bathing in self-doubt. This is all part of the vital process and it's a test of my commitment. There is no sense of achievement without a challenge.

What is the worst that can happen? You will not end up on the streets, alone, with nothing to eat. You will not lose your health and your family. Frankly, the worst that can happen is you fail, you run out of money, you stay with friends, get another job, and try again shortly. You will find is that all the things you truly need will still be there. Except you will be better off for it.

Of course, you need to be committed; nobody will help you unless you first try to help yourself. I have parked myself at my home desk every day, networking, job searching, applying for paid and unpaid writing tasks, eager to build my portfolio. The problem is, I know I can write. I just need to prove it. But to get the copy proof, you need to HAVE the copy proof.... and there lies the catch.

There are no real hard and fast rules to anything in life - despite what people may tell you - and I know from experience that self-believe, perseverance and willingness to take the plunge will get you everywhere. Somehow, I am going to make this work. Yes, it's a gamble, and no, there are no guarantees for success. But you will never know until you try. When you take a risk you either: a) succeeed; or b) fail, and learn invaluable lessons. Both outcomes are worth the gamble. So why play it safe? To develop and to discover your potential you need to push yourself, and see how far you can go. You are not going to do it in the safety of your comfort zone.

What is the worst that can happen? It's never as bad as you think.

Recommended reading: Why Do We Believe That Our Job Is What Makes Us Worthwhile? by Alain de Botton