A Smackeral of Hope

Having sat at home last night; a few tears shed from another stressful day; dinner steamed and eaten; I decided to download Stephen Fry’s narrated audiobook of Oscar Wilde’s short stories and go for a walk. I just love both Stephen Fry and Oscar Wilde. I could listen to Fry for hours, and often do, as sometimes when I fail to sleep at night I listen to him reading Paddington Bear or Winnie The Pooh. You may think it strange for a 37year old single woman to listen to such stories; and you may carry on thinking that if you wish, it is of no consequence to me. 😊

I thought I’d walk for an hour or so in total and, upon my return, visit the local supermarket for a little smackeral of honey…..er, I mean, something nice to eat. Of course, I reasoned on my walk that as I am moving towards a sugar free life, this would be quite silly. Instead I sat at the half way point, before I retraced my steps home, on a pub bench in the garden of The Bell, a small glass of red wine beside me and my thoughts for company.

I flicked through the newsfeed of the Book of Faces and came across a Little Buddha blog that caught my attention; it very much applying to what I am trying to achieve in my own life; the love of oneself. I am not Buddhist but I do like the blogs that are written here. They are often very down-to-Earth, real-life struggles and denote the writer’s attempts and/or success in overcoming their difficulties. Feel good reads.

The one I read pertained to a woman who struggled after two decades of marriage failed. She had lost her own identity, felt worthless at having been rejected by her husband and best friend after so long. She found herself in despair. Allegedly the words, “Marry me,” were relentlessly voiced in her head for months on end until, baffled to distraction, she had no choice but to face this peculiar conundrum. Who, what and when was she telling herself to marry? She reckoned that she was asking herself to, well, marry herself. Now, I admit, this all read as very far fetched and slightly more towards telling a good moral story than a real life event, but I continued to read.

She realised she didn’t love herself. She didn’t think herself worthy of anyone’s love. She felt that her life was done with. And in that moment, somewhat of a revelation occurred and she decided to get out there and find herself. She did all the things she’d wanted to do, went everywhere she’d wanted to visit, became her own person and, consequently, fell in love with herself. She realised how wonderful she was and how much she had to offer. Whether she had someone or not, she was happy and hopeful.


Could this really be true? I have to admit, marriage has been on my mind for most of my thirties without any discernible promise of wedding bells ringing in the distance! I have, for years, quipped that I will marry myself one day; mostly in jest…..but, you know, it may well come to it….! But it all struck a chord as this is where I am. Tired of the old me, the old beliefs, the old habits, the wrong choices, the fears…..I, too, am continuing to let go of who I have been, of a life I perceived myself to have; and instead, am striving to be a person I am simply happy with. One I can be proud of. A person honest to myself and not one who needs to feel that I should be more than I am in order to be accepted by someone else. This feeling of inadequacy has to go.

It is an extremely bumpy transition. I am well known for my overly emotional traits, but the shedding of old is quite overwhelming sometimes; and yet very, very good. It’s like a cleansing is happening.

One can only be excited that I will reach my point of peace and happiness; that I will settle into the person I truly want to be and my new path will reveal itself before my very eyes. Yet to love oneself? Have you ever stopped to truly understand what those words even mean? I thought I did love myself to be honest, but according to most other people, I don’t! Such is my quest. To use this love I have within me to lavish upon myself and also find my inner peace. Oh, and move to Brightonia.

For a change, the possibilities seem infinite. What dreams may come, eh?xxx


2 thoughts on “A Smackeral of Hope

  1. Reminds me of the children’s book ‘Odo the Snail’. He was never happy with himself. He hated his slow pace and envied all the other wonderful creatures…until he started crying at the lake…and saw that he has something all the other animals didn’t have: a beautiful shell.


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