Kenya!!

Having got over the major dilemna of the morning... no pink nail varnish for toes to match the fingers, i have consoled with orange toes and pink fingers and am now heading off for a two week 'trip of a lifetime' to Kenya and Zanzibar.
Expect to hear from me again around the 21st Aug!!
with love and warmth,
Anna Katharina

A prized possession

‘Take care of yourself’. A phrase so often passed between us, a phrase that I’m sure is often appreciated and dismissed, not even thought about. But what if we did actually stop to consider this request? What if we stopped to realise the significance of this? Would we feel any differently about ourselves?

For someone to ask us to take care of ourselves, they have to love us in such a way that they care for our wellbeing – it matters to them how we are. Think of it as a prized possession they are entrusting to our care, they love it so dearly that not only are they trusting their precious thing to you but they are also showing you how much they love you.

So if they think you’re worth taking care of, believe it yourself. And look after yourself. They think you deserve it, and so you should. 

The Blackberry... a real addiction

On my way to town this morning for a beauty treatment and some me time mooching around the shops by the river, I got half way and realised I had forgotten my phone. My faithful blackberry was not with me. I was consumed with panic, I was alone. Totally alone. I say I had planned some me time… what I probably should have said was ‘me and my blackberry’ time.  I had no time to go back for it, I had to continue…alone.

On the radio yesterday there was a news bulletin about the number of people apparently addicted to their mobile phones, and after my terrifying realisation this morning, there is certainly no denying it. But what is it about our phones that mean we cannot be without them?

I am certainly not addicted to the phone itself – it makes annoying noises (specifically chosen so I know the ringing is mine), and the keys are too small for any human to use. So what was it that went through my mind this morning in the moment of shock when I realised I had left it behind? There was nothing to save me from awkward moments when we all opt to pretend to text or suddenly have an urgent phonecall we must attend to, if my appointment time was changed there would be no way of knowing, and what if a member of my family picked it up and browsed my messages and pictures?! Shock horror!!

But the thing that got to me most was that if someone wanted to get hold of me, or simply chat to me, they couldn’t. If I wanted to get in touch with someone, I couldn’t. So is this what we are all afraid of? Being alone? Being isolated and cut off from our friends and family? I have always been one for ‘me time’ and I am quite happy in my own company, but ‘me time’ without my blackberry? Another matter altogether!! Is it the physical confirmation that we have people who talk to us, that want to communicate with us that makes us so attached to our phones?

It is a natural human instinct to want to be with and in touch with others. Rarely do you find a human living completely isolated from society, and completely alone, and it is very sad if we do. So I don’t think we should criticise or question our addiction to our phones for the love of communication; it is necessary for survival. What I do think we should question is our fear of being on our own. Once I had relaxed into the fact that my phone and I were going to spend the morning apart, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was nice not to feel obliged to be a call centre. It was nice to really recognise what I was feeling, what I was doing, and how I was interacting with those around me.

It is ok to be on your own. You don’t need constant reassurance of who you are and the fact that people love you. You are loved and appreciated; the fact that you have contacts on your phone proves this. People always care. So take the time to trust this; trust the support network you have around you, and learn what it feels like just to be you.

Take the leap, leave your phone behind and go out on your own. You’ll be ok. Your phone and your friends will still be waiting for you when you get back. Mine was… on the kitchen table, exactly where I had left it. 

Boys and shells

A little boy of about 3 years old approached me today as I was sitting on the beach. He was holding out something in his hand to me and talking animatedly. Realising he was eager to tell or show me something I held out my hand thinking he wanted to give to me whatever it was he was showing me. It was a small shell, very beautiful and with intricate detail. He chatted away to me with so much eagerness, desperate for me to admire and praise him for the find. I reached out to touch it in my appreciation, but he would not let go of it. He proceeded to walk happily away and show it to someone else, clutching it to his chest in between each admirer.

This child, barely the height of my knee, reflected something very precious. He had something beautiful to be admired, and he wanted to share this with everyone. But he did not give it away; he did not expose himself to theft, nor put himself in a vulnerable position. Yet he shared the beauty. We are often terrified of being hurt, we are terrified of being intimidated, and so we do not reach out to others. We build up walls around us to protect us, and as a result, we do not reach those we could.

But we can, and we don’t have to get hurt. We can all share what we have with others without being exploited, damaged or used. We don’t have to be hurt. If we keep hold of who we are: our belief systems, our self-respect, our self-love, just as the little boy kept hold of his shell, we can offer ourselves: our beauty and our knowledge, to help others and reach out to them. Without being hurt.

Make sure you know who you are. Be firm in what you believe in, be firm in your respect of yourself; keep all this close. And then reach out. Extend your boundaries, compliment a stranger, approach someone you find intimidating, pick up a child who has fallen over, and welcome those who are crying with open arms.

The world needs to see your beauty. And it doesn’t mean you have to lose yourself. It doesn’t mean you have to get hurt.  

A tiny child came up to me, a strange young woman, because he wanted to share the beauty of his shell. Be like that small child. Be fearless and reach out to others to share what you can offer. It doesn’t mean you will lose yourself.  

with love and warmth, anna-katharina

Hungry, Starving

A little while ago one of my closest friends  said to me, ‘You know Ann’, when I first met you I thought you were really quiet and moody. I’ve just realised that will have been the time when you were getting over the bad break up, now  I know you I know you’re one of the bubbliest, craziest people around!

Standing posing for a photograph a couple of weeks ago, my boyfriend looked like he was wincing and with one lazy arm. Had you gone up close you will have seen a major sling contraption hidden behind him, pull his T’shirt to one side and you will have seen a bandage covering a wound which can only be described as creditable to a WW2 wound.

What is my point? My point is that by looking at someone ,  you can never ever judge  what you see; you never know the full story. Today the Daily Mail caught my eye as ‘ANOREXIA’ was blaring loudly from the front page. As I read the article it entitled, my anger turned to burning fury. According to the article, the rise in the number of young girls being diagnosed with eating disorders, particularly anorexia, is due to girls being more and more conscious of their figure in a skinny orientated society.

I want to make it clear now that THIS. IS. RUBBISH. What four year old wants to attract a boy and have a flatter stomach than her friends?! What four year old takes this to the extent that she will become terrified of food and be consumed with guilt after eating half an apple?! No four year old that’s whom. I know of NO eating disorder case in which the sufferer is purely striving to look like what she sees in the magazine. Rather, the sufferers are deeply unhappy and emotionally traumatised. They are looking to the ideals shown around them to try and obtain some sort of happiness and break from their pain. They copy parent behaviour in an effort to please or get attention.

A four year old child with anorexia is not image conscious.  She crying for security, happiness, comfort, attention, ease from her pain, explanation, control, regularity. And in the majority of cases, she wants to be loved.

I looked like I was stick thin and craving to look like the models. But rather, I was in pain: I had lost my brother, I had been bullied for 14 years, my emotional development was not complete. I once visited a girl in hospital who had not eaten for 7 weeks. She had been abused and neglected all through her childhood. She was forgotten, in pain, and thought she was disgusting. She thought she was a mistake.

Do not judge an eating disorder by what you see. These sufferers, male and female alike, re exactly that: suffers. Not model striving attention seekers. These perceptions have GOT TO BE CHANGED.

Please, please, if you do nothing else, advertise this blog to at least one of your friends. Tell someone the truth and help me to beat this, once and for all.