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Regrets Vs Life Lessons

The two are closely associated, often misunderstood and at times hang around our necks like an albatross until we accept what has happened, what has shaped us into the people we are and then we can let it go and set ourselves free.

Sounds pretty obvious, right? Wrong. Wronger than putting ketchup with a 3 Michelin star meal. Wronger than french fries dipped in milkshake (yes it is a thing and yes it does taste strangely nice even though it shouldn’t— my posh chef daughter would sooner say she doesn’t like Johnny Depp before accepting either culinary sins).

Where was I? So, regrets versus life lessons. I was talking with an old friend of mine— old as in we’ve known each other years, not because she’s about to join the ranks of my grandma and her crew. Lessons have to be felt before we learn. We have to feel the pain, the hurt and the stress that culminates into a hodgepodge of drama, tears and at times entering the darkness that we can find ourselves getting deeper into and harder to climb out of. When we reach those depths, that then becomes the turning point of climbing out and shoving that experience where the sun don’t shine and learn, never to make the same mistake again. Only, however, if you have taken from the experience and you can pop it in the “Been there, done it, got the proverbial tee-shirt” section in your Book of Life. Like the acknowledgements section at the back of a great book like Being Ines by Eva Lauder (see what I did there? Yaas it’s cheeky, I know. Allow it🤪).

However, it’s not easy to do this. Yes, you know it’s screwed and the pain was just too much, but some folk continue living this perpetual cycle of making the same mistake, going cold turkey, feeling great and then doing it again. And again. And again, until you really are in no position to comment on other people’s bad situations, because why? Because you didn’t remove that damned albatross around your neck and show no signs of doing so. Life passes you by at a rate of knots, and before you know it, you’re old(er) and still travelling on that same vein that’s been coursing round and round all your life.

That is when, I believe, that regret steps in and slaps you round the face like a football on a winter’s morning. It stings. The realisation that your life has passed you by and you changed nothing. You regret not doing the stuff you’ve always wanted to do and living the life you aspired to as a youngster, who thought that they were invincible.

I’ve been there, and I’ve lived that life. So, I’m talking from experience not out of self-righteous bottom burps. Some folk get the wake-up call and choose to take the re-routed direction of life’s offers, and others invariably continue on the route they’re familiar with, out of the lack of believing that they deserve a better deal, that the cards that fate has turned its hand to is gospel. No more and no less.

Our experiences shapes our psyche but it’s also up to us to break that mould and live life enough to look back and think ‘phew that was close’. If we don’t, that’s when regret kicks in. We regret not being stronger or more ballsy. It’s never too late to cut that chain around your neck and free yourself. There’s always an alternative route, even if we can’t see it clearly, trust in better things.

Take care, Eva x ©

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Eva Talks About...

So, I turned 50…now what?

Last month I became a semi-centennial. I’ ve been asked, ’how does it feel to be fifty?’ No different to being 49 actually. However, what I will say is that in reference to my blog about nearing that milestone, many ladies have emailed me/sent me messages about how relatable the blog was, so it got me thinking (no snide comments please 😁) about a recent funny I posted about menopause belly. It’s real and boy don’t the algorithms know it. For the last year, my social media has been inundating me with adverts for diets/exercise for menopause belly, accompanied with images of 50 somethings with bikini bodies. Marvellous. Anyone of a delicate disposition/insecurities or even has an unsupportive other-half could make themselves ill over it. It’s like the pressure that young women and girls are put under, to look a certain way, but for older ladies. Admittedly, there have been times that I look at said pictures, read what they do (work out 4 times a week for two hours a session) and eat healthily. Great. That’s that then, problem solved— not however in my world. You see, I’m by no means overweight or even voluptuous but I do have a tummy and I do enjoy eating what the hell I like (mainly chocolate). I admire these ladies and their dedication, but I can’t be those women, I’m afraid. If I embarked on these regimes, I would invariably fall off the bandwagon and go back to eating what I enjoy. Surely, in an era where mental health is prevalent, making women feel inadequate and shitty about themselves is counterintuitive, no?

Which brings me to the subject of men. How is it, a man’s paunch is deemed an endearing sight and accepted as a “dad bod” yet we are under pressure to look amazing even if inside we feel like poop? It’s gone on throughout history…if it’s not wrinkles/lips and lines, it’s our bodies….and in the 21st century we’re still yielding to the hallowed tips to look twenty years younger. Obviously, it’s a personal subject and every person has their hang-ups who then decide how far to take it. I’m still baffled as I write this, as to how it’s cute for a guy to have a gut and yet it’s unappealing for a woman…although, to be fair, some guys don’t care about a woman’s physiological changes that she has to go through and finds it as sensual to look at just as if she looked like a washboard. Then there’s the actual menopause— blimey, womanhood is the gift that keeps on giving. No matter, as with everything in a woman’s life, we take it on the chin and keep marching forward, whether we like it or not.

Approaching middle-age really has been an epiphany for me. Liberating, in fact. As a woman, I feel that I’m at the helm of my life (finally) and I have a confidence that I never knew I had. I’m not talking about my appearance but I am talking about not being a people pleaser. I’m at the stage where I think, ‘ok, if you want to do/don’t do/say this, then knock yourself out.’ Those who matter won’t mind and those who are affronted by it, well, that’s okay too. This comes with experience and age. I am however, determined to guide my kids into this confidence at an earlier time in their young lives. We make mistakes, yes, and to feel the mistake is a lesson learned, but the main thing is to share those pearls of wisdom in a way that will help them through life’s peaks and valleys.

Take care,

© Eva x