The ghost of Valentine's Day past...

So yesterday was Valentine's Day and, despite a long spell of what might best be referred to as romantic misadventures, it was one of the only February 14ths that I didn't resent being single.

I don't know if the fact that it fell on a Saturday this year had anything to do with it, (I mean who doesn't love Saturdays after all?), but what I do know is that I enjoyed everything I did in fantastic company. And it got me thinking.

When I reflect on my proudest moments, I realise that what helped me reach them all was the support of other people, romantic misadventurers or otherwise. So actually, what better way to spend Valentine's Day than playing your favourite sport with your favourite teammates, making new friends, and talking to old ones? S/O or no S/O, I've recently been reminded of just how important it is to have a solid group of ride or die friends behind you. I've also realised how lucky I am to have exactly that. A solid group who I know I can rely on through anything.  

Who cares if you haven't found Mr. or Mrs. Right yet? Love is about so much more than romance, and I can't thank the people in my life enough for showing me that on a regular basis. This one's for you.

   

Gaps, crutches and human safety nets

Do you ever get the feeling that you're just filling a space in someone else's life?

I was once told that when I finished school I'd leave my school friends behind, and find my friends for life at university and work. Usually, my source's pearls were of genuine wisdom, but I've since found the opposite of what he said to be true.

As a child, or a teenager, at school you make friends just to make friends. You find people that you have something in common with, who you enjoy spending time with, who you can share things with. But it seems that as we get older and life gets more difficult, genuine friendships such as these lose ground to those relationships which help us get through certain situations and overcome certain obstacles. That's not to say, of course, that it's impossible to make real friends after you've left school, I definitely have, it's just that somehow they're rarer.

Recently, I found myself questioning people's behaviour, wondering what might have gone on to make them act the way they have. More than once I've come to the conclusion that it's either because I no longer fulfilled the role that they needed me to, or because I've completely misunderstood that that was the context of the relationship. Either way, what I find most difficult is deciding which is sadder; the fact that people can do this consciously, or the fact that often it's entirely unconscious. Of course it's hurtful when someone uses you intentionally, but that someone desperately needs you to play a part for them, and feels almost bereft when they realise you won't or can't join in any more, surely that's worse?

It seems to me that people are afraid of being alone, afraid of having to be themselves, without the support of another person to hide behind. Sure, being independent is scary, and it's always nice to have someone else to blame if everything falls apart, but it's something that you have to learn to do. You know how the saying goes, "if you want something doing, do it yourself". Learning to live with, and love yourself is one of the most challenging lessons out there. Unsurprisingly it's also the most rewarding. Not just because it empowers you, teaching you strength and resilience, but also because when you do meet people and build relationships with them, you can both give and take so much more from it.

That's why I really think the best way forward is to refuse to participate, that is if you see it happening, on any level, with convenience relationships. Don't use people as crutches, and try to avoid getting roped in as somebody's safety net. You'll grow so much more and, in the long run, things will be that much better because you didn't.

On Mixing Races and (Not) Conforming to Expectations

Being from a mixed-race background broadens your horizons and enables you to cross boundaries that others might consider limits. Or so you'd think, no?

Although my experience of growing up in a mixed family certainly has broadened my horizons and empowered me in many ways, I've also found it to be incredibly restrictive. I'm grateful that my ethnicity hasn't (yet) been a prohibiting factor in achieving goals, but I've definitely noticed it to be a limitation in terms of what other people expect of me. 

As a child visiting Egypt or Ireland, I never felt properly at home. There was always something, be it external or internal, that made me feel different from the people around me, as if somehow I didn't conform. Thinking about it now, it seems silly to imagine that as the product of a mixed relationship, that was relocated to the streets of west London, I would ever fit into a culture that I didn't fully belong to. What seems even sillier, is that it really upset me that I didn't fit in, and only when I was exiled to the Russian city of Yaroslavl' for eight months (thanks Oxford), did I realise that actually I did fit in somewhere: London. 

The beautiful Ladbroke Grove, nestled between Harlesden, Shepherd's Bush and Notting Hill (spot the odd one out), is home to Portobello Market, George's (if you know, you know), and me, amongst other things. But, what you're most likely to know it for is the Notting Hill Carnival. For two summery days a year, the streets around my house are filled with music, food, dancing (drugs, alcohol, inappropriate toilet breaks), and happiness. More important than any of these things though, is the reason Carnival was started: as a celebration of a different culture, and an attempt to incorporate something of it into English life. I don't know about you, but I certainly consider anywhere that establishes an annual tradition to encourage multiculturalism, to be home, whether it's my background they're celebrating or not. I've discovered that home doesn't have to be where your parents are from, or even where you live, it's where you feel it is.  

For whatever reason though, it seems that some people are still not as comfortable with the idea of dual-heritage as I've grown to be. Over the past few years I've been told that I shouldn't be considered white, dismissed as someone who "doesn't even know where she comes from," had to battle abject confusion on more than one occasion when asked the origin of my name, and listened to intelligent observations such as "ew, that's weird," when I talk about my ethnicity. I've even been asked if being half-Egyptian makes me an Islamist who's likely to blow themself up. Yet more disparaging, is the fact that this kind of cultural insensitivity is widespread. A close friend of mine was once assured future success on account of her "hybrid vigour". Not offensive at all.  

Usually, ignorant comments like this are easy to brush off. However I struggle when the conversation turns to the matter of whether or not it's typical for someone of my heritage to be doing such and such a thing. I struggle because that's never been something I've considered. I've never debated any choices; educational, physical, or personal, on grounds of whether other people from my countries would do the same. Others though, seem fascinated by the idea of cultural conformity, to the point where they even ask how my tastes and habits relate to my background.

The answer: they probably don't. I make a point of doing what I feel is right, and of following my passions, even if they don't get me anywhere. What's the point otherwise? How will you ever know who you are, until you step outside of other people's expectations, and start figuring things out for yourself? Of course I have traits that are influenced by my background, I love bastorma, foul medames and potatoes, I clap way too often, I drink copious amounts of tea, and I call people eejits. But I would hate to think that at any point, I've let external prejudices and expectations define me. I'd much rather take a chance on something I think is important, be honest and express myself regardless, and I'm pretty sure that most people are the same, no matter where they come from.

What I really want is to be like Carnival (minus the drugs and aforementioned sanitary issues). I hope that in the future, I can utilise the incredible advantage that being mixed-race is to get the absolute most out of life, to combine the richness of my parents' cultures, with the one that I grew up around, not forgetting of course, a generous helping of anything new that I pick up along the way...

So thanks a whole bunch for your opinions, but unless they're paying my gym membership, I really don't need to hear them.