And I do not mean the Britney song. We all have them in our lives. Toxic friends, toxic people we work with. Even toxic family members. People that try to make you feel like shite. Those people that are not on your team. The ones that secretly smile when they see you fail, or they get a pang of annoyance when they see you succeed. They give you compliments, yet they are underhand and they somehow let slip an ounce of information that 'might' play on your insecurities. Toxic people that mess up your chi. Chi that you have spent a long time trying not to mess with yourself.

The thing is, when you start to question the people you surround yourself with,you have to look at yourself first. Holy moses, god forbid I am not a perfect specimen of grace and kindness. But... I'm not. I am human. We are human.

The question I have asked myself throughout the years... Am I Regina George? I can pretend that I don't have an ounce of mean molecules in my body. I can 'say' that I am the 'nicest person EVER. But no-one would believe me. Not even I believe me. Not even my mum could say that I was. My ego and insecurities can turn me into a big old mighty twat.

I've been that person to hear of someone's good news and get a pang of jealousy. I'd like to put it out there that we all have horrible thoughts (occasionally). About people, about situations. Even our loved ones. People we consider friends. If I am in this alone then stick a pickle up my bum hole and throw me to the sharks.  

As you get older, you start to ask yourself 'how can you control the negative feelings? How can I be a better human?' It's not that I do voodoo on anyone or wish that their hair would fall out (If you have seen The Craft then I know you know)I just mean the general crap. The slagging someone off, the bad vibes, the grumpiness, the ignoring of people, rolling your eyes when they annoy you, the little dig when they talk about their new, shiny expensive shoes 'Ooo babe, are you sure you should spend your money on that?' Or just the head chatter. The things you may not say out loud, but you think in your head for a slight moment, the smile you don't give or the 'hi' you don't wave...

We let our feelings,  which I believe are affected by thoughts, eat away our light and leave us in he dark.  

I found my old diaries.(the ones that prompted the blog) There is no way of avoiding that I have been that person. The only thing I try and do differently now is, that I catch myself. I have either said something judgemental or I am about to and I ask myself, what am I really thinking that is making me have this feeling that means I 'act like a C word'

I am on insta one day a few years back... I see that a fellow actress has booked an acting job. She's not a friend friend, but I know her. We speak here and there. My immediate feeling isn't happiness for her.(and maybe I am alone in this, maybe I am the worst human alive) But honestly, it wasn't 'wahooo' for her, it was 'oh' for me. It was 'How is that fair... Why does she get all this good fortune? Is she even that good?' And what ensued was a tantrum. A 'throw myself on the floor, literally off the sofa and ball my eyes out until I am swallowing snot and I can't breath. Jealousy. Severe, outrageous, pure jealousy.  And although I didn't project any nastiness onto the person in question (because I was still a decent human in many ways and wasn't one of those weird trolly types) perhaps I wasn't shitting out toxic turds onto her directly, but I was filling my flat up with the bad energy and I was intoxicating my own brain, my own soul. I believed my own thoughts enough to make me react like a two year old brat.

A while later I saw a pinterest quote (of course) and it said...

"jealousy is admitting to yourself that you don't think you will ever have what that person has and envy is knowing that you want it too, and can"

and something clicked a little. The feeling-(why not me?) jealousy, the thoughts deep down-(I'm not good enough) like someone's fortune was a lack in me. Like they were stealing something from me, like there wasn't enough jobs to go around, like the closer someone else got to (what? who knows) the further away I got. 

When I was eleven I became friends with the new cool girl. My insecurity fear based teenage angst grew and I slowly became toxic for a while. I abandoned my kind souled best friend and tossed her in for hair mousse and lip gloss. I no longer wanted to write plays and perform them, I wanted to write journals and adorn them, with names of boys and doodles of things mean girls doodle. Arriving at big school was one big toxic hell hole.  One place full of girls all going through that one thing that defines our behaviour time and time again. 'Who are we? And are we good enough?' And for most thirteen year old girls, the answer was easy, not as good as Nancy with the rock solid abs, not as good as Suse in her brand new hipster bootleg jeans (the exact ones) All Saints wore, not as good as Amanda, look at her round, pert, large boobs.  

Those feelings of inadequacy thrive on bad thoughts. Every action thereafter is to rid yourself of such thoughts of worthlessness-Of feeling less than. Not as pretty as, not as clever as, not as skinny as and in doing so you find people that you think are either 'more than' or 'less than' and you tell them they can't sit at the back of the bus. You maybe snipe at a friend who looks better than you. You may embarrass someone so you look 'funny' After reading my old diaries I found that I breathed toxic behaviour as a teenager. Whilst I was still learning who I was, who I wanted to be. I tried on different masks and characters. I joined forces with other mean people who I subconsciously felt made me worthy. My diary was full of 'people don't like me, my friends hate me, I'm fat, Ooo this boy fancies me, he said I was pretty' I can't read more than one page without feeling even my nostril hairs standing to attention whilst I cringe and my blood runs hot. 

The best way I found to begin ridding myself of the negativity,  was to be empathetic to myself. Aware and empathetic. When you know where your thoughts come from it is so much easier to see why you're being a fanny flap. If I was always beating myself up in front of the mirror, how was I going to go out into the real world and be nice to anyone else?

You get older work out your own thoughts, your behaviour. You cut people out. You realise who your real friends are. The ones cheering when things go good. The ones that are happy because you are. There are still those people, ones that will be so unhappy with themselves that they will make you second guess yourself, doubt your own moral compass, cry when you get home,  but before culling them from your real life, Empathise and relate and look at why you act like a cock bucket sometimes. The world doesn't need more hate, but more love. I never got this before. I've been mean, selfish, self indulgent (I know right, me?) and gradually it dawned on me to try not let my own crap seep into the universe as much. (It's still a working progress) 

So to all the people I have ever been mean to, to my first friend in secondary school who I didn't support through a really hard time, to the pizza man I shouted at for no real good reason, to my friend in school I told her 'happiness seemed fake', to the girl I bundled at the back of the bus in year 8, to the pen pal I never wrote back to and the people I never smiled at in street. 

It's not you... It was me. 

"There is nothing in the world that can bother you as much as your own mind. In fact others seem to be bothering you, but it is not others, it is your own mind" 

Feeling Fat...

I look in the mirror during my trip in LA... I'm two Dodger game hot dogs down, one Cheesecake Factory cheesecake in, many cocktails, a greasy Fatburger, a tub of Salted Caramel Ben and Jerrys  and a few frappacinos devoured and I stand in front of the mirror and...

Oh no she diaaaant just think the F word!!!


Shit!!! I have fat thighs, my muffin top looks more muffiiny and my belly looks like it could be carrying a 4 month old child... I rationalise... that I am the same size as yesterday and yesterday I felt slim! But I FEEL fat. Does anyone know what I mean? I am utterly HUGE and noone in their right mind would want to even look at me. Don't look at me people...


this is not about the size you are

. FAT, for me, is not a size, it is a feeling. People smaller than myself 'feel' fat and despite my look of horror when my size 8 friend says she hates how large her thighs are, I get it. She knows she isn't fat, as do I, we also both know, being larger is not a sin. I look at people larger than myself and adore their bods, want their bods, admire their bods and sometimes, don't even notice their bods. Who cares. Truly, when someone is beaming and happy and has an amazing energy, who really notices what bloody size they are. Which is why for me, I understand all these crazy thoughts to be about my 'feelings' and not my actual size. I know some people will read this and yawn. Want me to 'shut the front door' about my 'feeling tubby' and that's OK. That is the whole point of my blog post. I am not against being larger.

Being physically larger will not change my worth and it will not destroy my world.

I have been larger and could easily get larger.

There is nothing wrong with being larger

. The word fat should not exist. Noone IS fat. We may 'have' fat and 'feel' fat but size does not make us who we are. In reality. In our heads, well that is a whole other ball game. It has taken me a long time to get with the programme regarding the reality of all of this. I was a chubby, podgey child. My relationship with food and the image in the mirror were warped, and it has taken a very long time to understand and also get over my crap. And yes, after a few indulgences and a few hormones later, the irrational, insane thoughts creep back in occasionally.

I am writing this because you do not have to be over weight or under weight to have a bad relationship with your body or the food you eat.

That is what this is about.

As I head into the world of personal training and I am about to take other peoples goals and wishes and thoughts into my own hands regarding their own body. The only body that they have. The one that they have been looking in the mirror at, for the whole of their lives. The one body that they have scrutinised and mentally bashed, and possibly been ashamed of, embarrassed of. That one body that wore their wedding dress, bathed in that bikini when they met the love of their life, gave birth to their first child, trained for 6 months before doing the marathon, fed crap food to, fed good food to, fatty food, no food, the same body that they have decided that they want to change, adapt, make better, improve, tone, firm, lean up... the same body that they want to see looking back at them and for them to be proud of... 

I have had to ask myself the question, what is it that we want? What body is it that we are aiming for, what are we chasing? Why are we limiting our calories, cutting the carbs, upping the protein, drinking hideous flavoured drinks, working out six times a week? Why are we trying that funky keep fit class or faddy weight lifting regime? Why are we sending ourselves insane? And the answer that I come up with when I ask why I have gone through all that craziness above, is because I want to FEEL good. Yes that can coincide with looking great too, but my perception of 'looking great' changes from day to day, month to month, and essentially if I FEEL slim, I usually think I LOOK slim. 

Someone ages ago asked me the question, if I could be larger than I am now, but FEEL great about my body and had the perception that my body was in the place I wanted it to be; or I could have the body I thought I wanted, (you know the one, the Victoria Secret model bod) but I would still FEEL fat, and crappy and down about my body... which one would I choose? 

And honestly, the answer I gave back then, was the ugly truth, the latter.

I went to see a lecturer last night in LA, Jason Glass. He spoke about us as humans, always wanting something in 'form' Wanting a certain amount of money, a certain acting job, a particular number on the scale. He talked of how sometimes, we get the thing we want, in 'form' and it actually doesn't feel as good as we had imagined or hoped or dreamed. He says this is because what we really want is the 'essence' of what that form brings. We want the time and freedom that the form of money can buy, we want the validation perhaps, as well as the excitement of a new job, a new character, a new experience to have, we want the feeling we feel when we step on the scale and see the number we have always been searching for... We want the '


' the '


' of these things that often do not actually come from receiving the 'form' of it, or it certainly does not last forever, the feeling nor  literally having those things in form.  He mentions, instead of working towards the actuality of 'getting' these things, that we have all the incite and possibility to have the essence of all the above, already in us. Imagine if one meant we got the other. Imagine if we started feeling great, loving our bods (muffin top and all) What if we looked in the mirror and liked what we saw already and as a result, we nourished it, looked after it, because, well, that just makes sense. I love a pinterest quote, and one sticks in mind that says 'Love yourself enough to live a healthy life' In feeling good about our large, oversized ear lobes and our cellulitey elbows, perhaps we will finally get the bod we have always wanted.

Now I know a lot of this sounds like mumbo jumbo to some. That's OK. All I know is that as I embark on helping people change their bodies, I'd like to firstly start with the thoughts about their bodies, their attitude to food and exercise, because as Brene Brown would say 'There is no quick fix 'how to', you cannot make the 'how tos' work without talking about the things that 'get in the way.' For me, the 'things that get in the way of me eating healthy consistently or of me getting the results I want, is that I eat five cakes to rebel against the people that say things like 'Oooo aren't you on a diet?' Or I stuff my face with an extra large popcorn (to myself) because I don't want people to think I care too much about my body.

God forbid, anyone could know that I actually want a fit healthy body, that would be shameful.

I eat double cream out of the tub with a spoon to make people laugh so that people don't think I take eating or not eating too seriously, because we all know what we think of people that take this stuff seriously... '

Bore off, there is more to life than worrying about what you eat or don't eat'

And yup, there really is, but for some, these thoughts are just ingrained in us, and we don't want them to be, so we think going to the gym everyday and eating nothing, will take those thoughts away, when in fact, they just magnify them tenfold. So lets talk about the 'things that get in the way' and perhaps then, and only then, can we attempt to get that Victoria Secrets bod...

Oh wait... that is not the point? shit!!!

A night out with the gals...

Gals being our mum, aunty and Dads girlfriend. Gone are the Fridays drinking vodka until 12 am and heading out in short shorts and gold hoops to the club with the dirty floor. I mean... as we approach 30 that sort of behaviour only seems acceptable once every few months. The days are here when dinner in a cute little French bistro replaces 4am trips to the 24hr MacDonalds. Effing ek... when did we get old.

Chez Elles

on Brick lane is the perfect place to dine. The owners/waitresses are friendly, helpful, approachable. They remember my dad's girlfriend and make familiar conversation. They served us bread whilst we waited for our aunty and recommended olives until she arrived... and of course, we obliged.

The menu was hard to chose from as there were too many yummy dishes. We went with a goats cheese salad to start and I have never had goats cheese like it. Soft, and creamy and smooth. For mains we indulged in a beautiful rump steak and fries with bone marrow. Something we had not tried before. Everything melted in our mouths. We are drooling as we type. For dessert we all shared, but I had most of the the winner pudding. Pistachio crème brulee... The memory still resides on our taste buds. Mmmmm.

If you ever decide to head to Brick lane for a quiet civilised evening, head here. The atmosphere, the cocktails,  the decor makes for a beautiful, classy, if not very mature evening. We giggled and laughed long into the night.

Kimono from H&M

Hat from Primark