I was sat in the Slug & Lettuce in Manchester Piccadilly, a couple of glasses of wine in and struggling to keep my composure. The tears were threatening to start falling and there was a sob inside me that was willing me to let it out. Why do you ask were you on the breaking point of an emotional break down? Did someone offend you? Was it actually happy emotions because you were back in Manchester and was able to go to the bar, order your massive glass of wine (with no fucker judging because it’s a standard glass here) and not have to sit at a table waiting for a server, to tell them you would like a glass of wine, for them to tell someone else you would like a glass of wine, then have to wait for that person to pour the said wine, then wait on the server to bring it to you (I do love Canada but this irks the shit out of me).
Maybe it’s the stylish decor and the comfy seats or the delightful familiarity of being surrounded by people who get as drunk as you but it’s okay because it’s a laugh. Maybe it’s tears of laughter because you witnessed a table of birds shoo a very drunk bloke away who was trying to convince them to sing happy birthday to his mate. Or could it be that someone came in wearing leggings on a Friday late afternoon, nah not in Manchester.
Ok, I can sense you are being impatient and want to know right now or maybe you don’t because I’ve waffled on for too long, so now you don’t give a fuck. Bye Felicia……
My niece made me cry, yep that bird who I am super close to and would murder anyone who hurt her (declaration: before anyone gets excited, obvs I wouldn’t really murder someone and this is not a threat……….) had me on the brink of making a right twat of myself in the middle of a bar in Manchester. What did she say you might ask? Did she say wtf are you doing here? Did she say, well you look a right fuckin mess (which would have been fair after an epic journey from Vancouver)! Did she point out the hairs on me chin (oh fuck off, we all get them and if you don’t yet, you have it all to look forward to).
Nope, none of that, my niece said “I am so proud of you” and even now writing this, it chokes me. My awesome cool, trendy, successful niece, who achieved a first for her Bachelors degree, has a job that she loves designing shit and travels more than me, said that she was proud of me!
Now, I imagine you are wondering (or not), why I would have that reaction to my niece, saying she was proud me. Those words are not the typical words I grew up with; In fact the first time I remember hearing those words, were from my Platoon Sergeant in basic training, when he told me that I had successfully completed my course. You could see the utter confusion on his face to have this tough cookie, who spent a lot of her training doing press ups and marking time in jail, bawling her eyes out in front him. These words were alien to me and I think another part of it was that, I was also damn proud of myself; I had literally just succeeded in dragging myself out of poverty and was about to start the chapter that would define the rest of my life.
So the point, what is the point of this post?!! Firstly just to brag about how awesome my niece is, she also writes a blog called Pack and Paint, which if you love art and travelling is defo one for you to follow,
Secondly, never underestimate the effect you have on people. Even if you don’t know someone on a deep personal level, your words can have a huge impact on their lives.
Thirdly, if someone did have a positive impact on your life and maybe doesn’t know it, reach out and tell them and say thank you. If someone had/is having a negative impact on your life, forget about them, cut them off. For some reason, we seem to give these toxic fuckers far more attention than they deserve. Picture yourself pushing them over a cliff in your head (IN YOUR HEAD) and letting them go, such a good exercise.
Chat soon x
British Bird in Vancouver 