Masks

When we are young we often want to be someone else, that is anyone other than ourselves. As we become adults we do not always loose this as hide behind masks trying to fit in with others not realising they too are wearing masks. In some ways we also forget who we really are if we are learn at all to accept what lies hidden.
Then we can become so attached to our masks we become frightened someone may see us without it and how they will judge us accordingly.

However, sometimes, if we’re lucky, someone comes along and shows us who we really wanna be, who we should be. The real us deserves our love and apologies for all the ways we mistreat it daily and speak about ourselves as though we should be better to be more normal. What is this normal? There is no such thing as a normal human being as we may share characteristics but equally we do not. We learn more from our differences than our similarities.

We owe ourselves an apology and probably more than one too for feeling shameful of what lies beneath. I threw my masks away a few years ago as learnt those that matter will always see through it and encourage us to be who we really are. Are you ready to remove yours and face the world as the real you? You can do it, believe in yourself and not the masks that you think is. Let go of your fear and step forward into the world as you, the beautifully unique human being you are.

© Fi S. J. Brown

Return to Spring

The evergreen soldiers remain on guard
As Jack Frost always wants one final dance
Even though spring time has stirred anew
And footprints in the snow belong in the past

The snowbells have rung their tiny icy bells
As crocuses spread like a vibrant floral virus
Daffodils loudly blow their golden trumpets
And blossoms dance in white and pink dresses

Rebellious winds take flight as days lengthen
Roaring up and down valleys, hills, and trees
Awakening all with their high pitched shrills
Only calming when the first lambs are born

The tulips are waiting patiently in the wings
And the bumble bees ready to pounce for pollen
To peels of bluebells ringing throughout forests
Springtime is here with adventures to be written

© Fi S. J. Brown

Dating and Me

It is nearly two months since I wrote my blog on asexuality and I have written drafts of a follow up entry but nothing felt right. However, I decided it was about time I put my fingers back on the keys and write.

Eighteen years ago today I went on a blind date, I will probably always remember it was St Patrick’s Day 2001 for the following reasons. My friend Dianne had decided to set me up on a blind date, which in my years at university nobody else had tried to do or do since then. I was living in Aberdeen in the final year of my degree and had only had my first kiss the previous autumn at almost twenty two with a guy that stalked me by text for around three months and other things I do not wish to write about. To say I was nervous was an understatement as did not have a clue what the etiquette was for such an event.

We had been texting for a couple of days and agreed to meet that evening for a meal. All I knew about him was that he was 23 and Dianne had known him for a couple of years…oh and like me had glasses! I looked at my clothes and thought what do I wear…I don’t want to give out the wrong signals and not sure I want anyone in my life in that way. In the end I went for a long black skirt, grey jumper, boots and black coat. Just as I put my jumper on Dianne text me – “please don’t kill me after you have met him”. As if my nerves were not already in a mess and what was she meaning by this cryptic code!? Where was the reassuring good luck message? If she was sending that to me…what was she sending him?

I remember meeting Irish guys on my way to our rendezvous point, and part of me just wanted to go out with them rather than face this unknown person. I arrived five-ten minutes early (I was OCD with time and numbers so couldn’t be late at all for things) to see a man fumbling on his phone – 6ft tall, short dark hair and glasses – I realised it was him. My instincts said ‘run’ as still not too late. However, before I could my phone went off, it was him texting was I there yet as our eyes met. This put me off further as I was early and I knew from Dianne he was shy but this felt like someone ready to pounce or stalk me.

After the formalities were over and done with we were trying to decide where to eat – I love Italian, Thai and Moroccan food but wasn’t fussy. He led me round the back streets of Aberdeen to the biggest dump of a pub I had ever seen. I asked as we arrived if they had a lady’s toilet to which I was told ‘er I’m not sure if they do or not’! Where was I…not the notorious Grill Bar but one its equally appalling siblings by that response. My heart sank, how could someone bring a woman here for a date. It did not get any better as I felt like all the other men were staring at me for being in their pub. I declined anything alcoholic and went with water, after what had happened with the stalker I did not want any repeats.

Conversation was very hard, we had almost zero things in common…only he had graduated from the university department I was at and our mutual friend! It is almost ironic that Mr PMS I mentioned in my previous blog had exactly the same personality and interests…I have learnt my lessons believe me and will not let history repeat! I agreed to go onto another bar but I was allowed to choose so went to one which a friend managed so I could feel safer and politely tell him it was going nowhere as clearly did not get that. We were opposites in many respects – I love music, he only really liked heavy metal at a push; he preferred to spend Saturdays playing Dungeons and Dragons, I liked visiting art galleries and museums or going for walks in the countryside, to concerts and plays…! In this case opposites would not be attracting each other and I would not be killing Dianne but more demanding why she thought we’d click at all!

In the eighteen years since I have hardly been on any dates, even Mr PMS only managed one proper date with me to the cinema to see his choice of movie! I was told around twenty years ago that I am ‘far too independent for my own good‘ by a male friend. Perhaps that is true but being hurt and asexual means I have never looked for love and find the idea of ever finding romantic love more and more meant for others but not me. I do not judge others or have attraction as I am asexual so the idea of meeting someone through online dating makes zero sense to me. Equally, through this experience would I really trust someone to set me up with another person? Other friends do not date and that has helped me come to terms with this aspect of my life as slowly accepted I am just a girl that loves but not in a romantic love kinda way.

© Fi S. J. Brown