One Woman vs Life

Judge & Jury

There I was standing on my staircase... in pitch darkness from a power cut, water flooding through the lower level of my home. Knowing that at that point, my lovely home that I had meticulously taken pride in and kept clean was ruined. In front of me cushions floated by, followed by a box containing the ashes of my beloved cat. I stood there in disbelief, waiting for the firemen to arrive. It was nearly 4 a.m, it was cold and I felt emotional, so what possessed me, as soon as I heard the firemen had arrived and were coming in, that I felt the need to pick up a nearby air freshener of 'crisp white cotton' and give it a good spray? It was dark, there was a foot of water flowing like a torrent through, and yet, I still reverted back to 'first impressions count!' Why, oh why, did I do that?

Did I really think that if it smelt nice they wouldn't notice that my usually tidy home was a little awry that evening. Did I think that they would think any less of me, if my home didn't smell of 'crisp white linen'. I don't know. So with my dignity intact, if not a little crazy from the events of the night, I climbed on the fireman's back and he carried me out. I did suggest that I was fine to walk out on my own, as long as they were sure it was safe with the electrics. But they insisted, as it would save me getting wet and it may be a long night in the cold - so politely I hopped on. Now I'm 5ft 8 inches and hopping might be a slight over exaggeration but once on board, I then felt the need to explain that I had lost 3 stone, so it was lucky he was carrying me out now, because a year ago it would have been a different story. Why or why again, did I feel the need to explain or justify myself, or would they judge me? Which got me to thinking how often I actually do it, and why do I do it? Why do I think everyone is judging me? And so what if they are! ...And they're probably not... It's just my automatic response, that I am often in the dock listening to judge and jury. Note to self: Must read more about paranoia!

The funny thing is, no one has to do anything in particular in certain situations, that make me feel awkward and judged. It's not like people walk around everyday shouting, "Why hasn't she washed her hair? Why does she work that way? Why is she having a day off?" In the real world I'm sure they are just going about their day, or maybe they are thinking the same as me. In which case are we all going around shouting at each other through this invisible telepathy channel. And my poor husband can find himself getting caught up in the 'virtual' judge and jury. If I feel like I will be judged, this will make me vulnerable, so naturally my instinct is to lash out verbally, to silence the judges, but mostly it's just to my husband, as the others in reality do not exist. Sorry x

Have you ever found yourself in a shop, filling up your basket or trolley and heading to the tills only at the last moment to do a quick analysis. Which queue looks friendlier and is there anything in my basket that is embarrassing? You shuffle the sanitary towels and new pack of knickers around to make them less obvious. Only to find once in the queue that someone stands behind you, who may judge your choice of knickers or that fact that you have a menstrual cycle, or you are surprisingly still having a menstrual cycle! They might be a young man, someone from your past or even worse someone you know now! You casually unload your shopping, trying to stack it like 'Jenga' around the embarrassing items and at all times to avoiding eye contact, as that would then involve conversation, which is a battle field in itself. But the irony of it is, that the items are everyday items, that shouldn't bring out the 'Ninja' in you and that they probably haven't seen you... or the things in your trolley. But yet, mentally you put yourself through all this and that's before you even try remembering your PIN or tackling the heavy question or moral answer of "would you like a bag with that?"

Onto the subject of Pubs, well, where do I start - A woman walks into a bar ...Well, firstly not without knowing what's behind the door first. Or maybe that's just me. I prefer to do it Noah's way, in two's. Any more, then the chances of me being left out are increased, which is where the vulnerability starts. As you enter you do a physical checklist to help reduce the chances of judge and jury. Lip gloss, check. You've got your money, mobile, keys, check. Quick discreet glance down to check no unfortunate wardrobe malfunction, tits are in, check. Now like a missile to it's target, or you've swam the shark infested seas you reach the island of temporary safety. Where you order drinks and food, get given a spoon (what do you do with that?), then after a few gulps and some nervous laughter, you try to settle in to the surroundings. Then before you know it, you have to repeat the whole exercise, just to get in and out of the ladies, adding stuck toilet paper to your shoe, as a worry or having your skirt caught with paper dragging behind you like a fax machine to your physical checklist. The whole experience is a minefield, although some days are better than others. But I have to remember and watch out ...the variables will change, different outfit, different friends, different bar staff, different customers and so on. Would this be a good opportunity for me to say that I have been in the hospitality trade!? Makes me wonder as I'm writing this, I can tell you! When I say run it, it is everything I can do well that involves the least amount of 'situations'. People say I am the Head Office but I'm also found, cleaning, weeding the garden, accounts, and admin, as the prospect of going down the stairs to do a shift behind the bar, scares the life out of me! On a more sensitive note, on occasions it's taken me a couple of hours and a good run up, like diving off the top board! Everyone looking (or so you think) when you arrive at the bar, in anticipation of being served. What will they want? Will I be able to hear them? What if I make a mistake? I know it's not brain surgery but the whole scenario is magnified, and to be honest has had me in tears and despair many a time. To know you can do something and yet feel so small, that has the power to break even the strongest of women in that moment is a mystery and overwhelming. There is no rhyme or reason and sometimes you just have to retreat, with your heart pounding and tears you cannot hold back.

This is no way to live, and it's exhausting living by judge and jury.

Have I not been given my copy of the rule book to life?

....I need to find some answers.