Love and sorry and old bananas: 25 things I've learned by 25

Let’s be clear: this list is not the sum total of my knowledge of the world. For starters, I have learned more than one thing a year, and there’s nothing from 16 years of academic education on here. But just for fun, here are some basic truths and not so simple lessons from 25 years as me.

1. Don’t apologise when you don’t need to

As a British woman I got served with a double dose of ‘Please let me apologise profusely for things that aren’t my fault.’ Apologetic words that enable this condition include the obvious ‘sorry,’ plus ‘just’ and ‘only’. Yes, you absolutely need to say sorry when you’ve screwed up, even if you’re terrified that the other person won’t forgive you. But don’t apologise for your existence or for doing your best. Treat these words like morphine: use sparingly so their impact is really felt when it’s needed.

2. Put Vaseline on your heels to stop your shoes rubbing

You’re welcome, poor little ankles. Also, if you’re too lazy to properly remove all your eye makeup before you go to sleep (bonus life lesson: always remove your eye makeup before you go to sleep) you can put just a little bit of Vaseline on your eyelashes and you’ll wake up without that ridiculous black gunk in your eyes.

3. Falling in love is like waking up with superpowers

Suddenly there’s a force within you that makes you want to do things that previously would seem impossible and mad (like scale tall buildings and shoot webs out your wrists and get married). It’s fun and scary and inspiring so make sure you use it to do something good.

4. Being in love requires effort

It’s answering their texts and being somewhere at the time you say you’ll be there, and calmly talking about how you feel when they’re pissing you off so you can work it out, and not holding a grudge. Which all sounds like a ridiculous amount of unpaid labour to the merrily single. The magic trick love performs is that you’re transformed into someone willing to do all that plus unload the dishwasher and overlook the fact they like Top Gear in exchange for the chance to have them around.

5. You can go against people you like

Peers, parents and friends will have expectations for your life, from what you wear to where you work to how often you go out and get hammered to your reproductive adventures. Understand that deciding to go against them might well cause fallout, but you don’t have to live out the narrative someone else has written for you.

6. There’s a right way to carry takeaway coffee cups

With the hole you drink out of facing away from you. It’s a law of nature that coffee is drawn to clothes, especially if you’re wearing something white, new and/or expensive. Which is why they never serve coffee in takeaway cups at weddings.

  

7. Courage doesn’t mean never being scared

To paraphrase Mufasa. It means being able to admit fear and go crashing on with it anyway. Go on that rollercoaster, get that tattoo, watch that movie that had the world’s toughest critic sleeping with the light on for three months. Take the job with the paycut because it’s your dream, ask out that person you’ve been gazing at longingly for two years, seven months, three days and about an hour and thirty minutes. Not everyone is a firefighter running into a burning building but we all have to be brave in tiny and massive ways.

8. Drink lemonade when you have a sore throat

Let it go flat and chug it straight from the bottle. No one will ever believe it works, but as long as you no longer sound like Darth Vader after he’s had a long night of karaoke and cigarettes, who cares?

9. Never brush curly hair

Ignore the books, movies and adverts that show someone brushing out spiralling ringlets. In reality, you will end up looking like Hermione circa The Philosopher’s Stone. It wasn’t magic that fixed her hair for the Yule Ball: it was realising that you should replace that toothy devil device with detangling fingers, good conditioner and a reliable finishing product.

10. Dare to say hi to new people

Yes, chatty strangers can be annoying when you’re tired and you just want to buy oranges without a lengthy discussion about someone’s cat. But sometimes it’s worth plunging into conversation with a total stranger. Sure, they could be dull or racist or creepy but you could also just have a fun one-time chat with an interesting person, or you could even make an awesome friend. Give people a chance and they might surprise you. Yes, that includes Chelsea fans.

11. You don’t have to understand art to enjoy it

You don’t have to know much or even anything about art, as long as you approach it with an open mind. The more you see, the more you’ll know what you like so you can hunt out relevant exhibitions and get stuck into the bits that really grab you. At the very least you’re getting the chance to see how someone else experiences the world, which is fascinating.

12. Always have a pen

At least one. If you think you already have one, pack another one. Just like London taxis, they have a tendency to disappear right when you need them.

13. Always have tampons

It may count as a luxury, but it’s one you don’t want to be caught without.

14. Be kind in love

You can’t love everyone who loves you, and not everyone you want will want you. But be gracious. Treat people’s hearts like fluffy little guinea pigs that need to be handled delicately, even when you know they can’t really belong to you. And not like footballs designed to be kicked off down the field and slammed into the mud without a second thought.

15. Sex is not like it is in the movies

The camera doesn’t cut slowly away to the window when you’ve removed enough clothes to upset the censors. Seductive music doesn’t start automatically playing in the background. And post-sex hair definitely doesn’t look so rakishly attractive in real life. Instead, it’s a lot of fumbling, sweating, grunting and unexpected noises. It’s less dignified, a lot messier and much more fun.

16. Women don’t have to wait for someone else to make a move

Disney and Jane Austen and movies set in high schools have got a lot of people thinking that in heterosexual relationships, the man is the one who initiates any romantic possibilities. He asks her out, he picks her up, he pays. Not having the patience for this nonsense doesn’t make you needy or bossy or unfeminine (which aren’t always bad things btw). You wouldn’t go to a restaurant and wait until someone brings you the food you want: the only way to make sure you get the dish that’s caught your eye is to go up, politely place your order and see if it’s available.

17. Frozen banana tastes like ice cream

Get an old banana. Mush it up. Freeze it. Take it out. Eat it with peanut butter and/or chocolate chips. Feel smug.

18. Embarrassing moments are just future funny stories

You can speed the process up by trying to see the comical side at the time. That said, it’s also perfectly acceptable to save the ones with no witnesses for yourself.

19. You don’t have to drink alcohol

Benefits include not knowing what a hangover is, always being able to remember where you put your phone and having more money for books, clothes and obscure kitchen gadgets. Unfortunately, you do have to realise that some people will have a problem with this, even though you couldn’t care less what they do with their bodies. This might mean that you miss out on some awesome friendships but that’s their fault, not yours. Those who matter don’t mind, those who mind should really reassess why it is they take issue with your life decisions.

20. If you microwave a marshmallow it grows huge

I learned this from Dawn in Buffy. It’s about the only scene from the show you can safely re-enact in your own kitchen.

21. Make sure you know how to be awesome on your own

You are the only person who is always with you so you should probably learn how to get along with that little voice in your head. That includes in your own home and in the world spreading out beyond that square of window. Enjoy the voice's creativity and sense of humour. Find out what it likes (rom coms, photography exhibitions and indie pop rock). Teach it to map read, tell it off when it’s being mean, read it books and teach it new things just for fun.

22. An oven thermometer will change your baking life

If your cakes usually end up as a flat mess that looks more like a pancake that’s been run over by a lorry than the photo in the book, you need one of these. Hang it inside your oven somewhere you can read the dial and you’ll know that whatever else you’ve screwed up, at least the temperature is spot on.

23. Carry an umbrella

London weather is created by a control panel in the sky that’s operated by a drunk guy randomly fiddling with dials, pressing buttons and spilling coffee (see life lesson 6, dude). To combat this madness, get a mini umbrella and put it in your bag, next to your keys, pens and tampons. Much better than a soggy copy of the Metro or a Tesco bag.

24. No one knows what they're doing all the time

A constant stream of holiday photos, statuses about amazing parties and excited job/relationship updates has convinced us all at some point that the world is at a big carnival we’re not invited to. However, it’s also true that the more ‘grown ups’ you meet, the more you realise that no one has every aspect of their life or personality totally sorted out. Some people are better at hiding the not-so-shiny bits than others (money really helps with this) but ultimately we’re all wondering if we’ve made the best life decisions and what’s coming up next and if we can handle it.

25. Always dance

Don't condemn yourself to the sidelines. Shake it while you've got it and regret nothing. Dignity is less important than feeling like Beyoncé on the dancefloor for a night. 

9 life lessons I learned fighting anorexia

I held many misconceptions about anorexia until I got it. I thought it was for supermodels and people who didn’t like food. All you had to do was look out for the person with matchstick legs moving a salad leaf round a plate in the pizza restaurant, and then force feed them a sandwich.

And then it happened to me. Long story short, I started losing weight and I couldn’t stop. It wasn't a diet or a life choice or a career move. It was lonely and terrifying.

After ten months of treatment, I’ve just had my last appointment with my incredibly patient clinical psychologist. Throughout this process, I learned a lot about this disease, myself and the complicated relationships we all have with our brains and bodies. Here’s the skinny.   

Translating what it’s like to be you is hard

To shamelessly bastardise a quote from David Foster Wallace, we are all marooned in our own skulls. You can’t climb inside my brain to see what it’s like, and I can’t do that for you. Which means trying to explain why we each think what we do is hard.

Here’s how I would describe my anorexia. So I guess a person without it would think, ‘I like burgers. You like burgers. Let’s go eat burgers and life will be glorious in our juicy, meaty, carb-heavy world of fast food heaven.’ Everything in moderation, right? When anorexia runs this ‘Let’s get burgers’ scenario through its mad machine, the result is that it starts shouting that if you eat one burger tonight, you’ll end up eating three tomorrow and every day for the rest of your life and you will never stop eating, resulting in a waistline to rival the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man. And everyone will hate you and no one will ever love you, even the cats you try to collect will reject you in favour of the bloke down the road who lets them piss on the sofa.

That’s a simplified version. As you go on, the machine gets extended, adding more foods that you can’t eat and more rules and an ever decreasing calorie counter. It also gets a power boost, so it shouts even louder. It’s powered by a lot of things, including body dysmorphia (that’s a whole topic by itself). I’m aware that it’s not me coming up with these thoughts, and it’s not something I built, but it’s something I had to live with and then take apart.

Fighting a mental illness takes courage

Throughout all this, a lot of people have told me that I was brave. I’m not great with compliments, but now I can look back as the version of me who got through it, I’m able to say, fuck, actually, I was brave. Since anorexia convinces you that putting on weight indicates a lack of will power, asking someone to help you stop it makes you feel like a loser who’s giving in.

Fuck that.

A wise man (Dumbledore) said that ‘It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.’ Let alone yourself. Anorexia was the bully cornering me in the toilets and telling me I was worthless, and I was George McFly landing a solid one on its jaw.

Admitting to yourself that you don’t have this in hand is hard. Admitting to other people that you need help is hard. Trusting them to stick around is hard. Getting through every single time you have to eat when something inside you is screaming to stop is hard. No question there are shittier things you can go through, but this was my big battle, my Minas Tirith. And I’m proud of the girl who took it on. She was brave.

It’s OK to trust other people

I’m not one for relying on other people too much. In my head, the anorexia made me proud of my immense will power, but it was embarrassing to admit out loud that I had this thing that makes even the simplest eating situation feel complicated. Also, as a loud and proud feminist, I hated the thought that other women would think I was judging them by the insane standards I held myself to. Why would someone put up with a person so seemingly judgemental and totally neurotic, let alone love them?

None of the people I told pushed me away. No one told me I was weak or pathetic or a terrible person who should stop worrying about my first world problems. Most made the effort to understand that weird machine in my head.

None of you will know what you did for me. Like Buffy and the Scoobies, I was the one fighting the demons every day, but you were the ones sharpening the stakes and hitting the books and giving me CPR. Even when I panicked and stressed and tried to run, you followed me and sat with me on that path to madness and uncertainty until I could get up and walk back. Trusting other people with your weird things, whether it’s small like needing to walk on the right, or big like anorexia, is hard but worth it.

People around you will make mistakes and that’s OK

It’s hard to get your head around what it’s like to have anorexia if you’ve never experienced it. You have to be as patient with the people who are making the effort to muddle their way through and support you as they are with you.

One example is the apparently innocent sentence ‘You look well.’ To an anorexic in recovery, this translates to ‘You’ve put on weight’ which, of course, sets the machine off. I realised I had to take a step back and understand that what they were trying to say was that I’m moving towards being normal instead of this weird skeletal version of me. Which is the point, after all. I learned to remind myself that they’re coming from a different point of view, and once I’d accepted this I started to love hearing this sentence. It reinforced the sense that anorexia is not normal, which is what I needed to help me change my mind. Other stuff is more hurtful, but if you try and explain why something is unhelpful, people will know not to do it again. If they choose to, they’re a dick.

There are heroes in the NHS

Anorexia is an illness. It’s not an emotional state. It’s not something you choose. It’s not a phase. It needs a tailored and planned out treatment, like any other disease. The shame around mental illness makes it hard to find the courage to ask for help. The first time I told a GP that I was losing weight was at an appointment for something unrelated. Sitting in that chair, in the comforting clinical anonymity of a surgery, I suddenly blurted out that I had been deliberately not eating enough. When I told her it was because of stress, she calmly told me to join an art class. There was one down the road. Get out and make some friends and you’ll be fine.

So that was fun.

Luckily, just hearing my own voice saying this out loud gave the part of me who could see where this was all leading the power to shout back. It’s the first time I said no to the bully. I went back and I found the GP who would save my life. At the moment when I needed it most, the NHS stepped up (in a way). She listened to me describe what I was doing to myself, just as you would listen to someone telling you their physical symptoms. She made me do blood tests and come back just to talk about how I was doing, and to keep an eye on my ever plummeting weight. She treated it like a medical condition, not just some stupid shallow problem I would grow out of. I will always be grateful to the stranger who saved me.

The NHS needs to change how it treats mental health

Both of us knew that these visits were like putting a plaster on a wound that’s bleeding out. What I needed was counselling. Ultimately, it would have taken about a year from when I was diagnosed to getting to see an actual NHS counsellor who leads you through the ‘refeeding’ process (that phrase always made me feel like a cow waiting to end up in a Big Mac) and all the CBT. When you’re losing 2lbs a week, this is not time you have. I read a news piece that said more people are dying of eating disorders because they’re not getting treatment in time, to which my response is a loud and angry ‘Duh’. I was lucky enough that my parents were willing and able to pay for private treatment. And it’s infuriating that other people who don’t have that support are stuck with this system.

Your body is strange and amazing

The recovery process is a weird and terrifying and wonderful journey through how your body can adapt to look after you. From a totally cold scientific view, it’s actually very interesting. When you deny your body food, it goes into this weird setting called starvation mode that changes how you respond to things. Some stuff makes sense: your body’s priority is to keep your heart beating and your brain ticking and your muscles happy, so when you’re not getting much energy it’s going to use every crumb to focus on these, and be damned other stuff, like hair, hormones, bones and less important organs. The funny thing is that you don’t realise how shitty and worn down you feel until you start eating more. One day you stand up and the world doesn’t spin and it’s a revelation.

Other stuff that happens is totally random and seemingly unrelated. Scientists at the University of Minnesota did some studies on conscientious objectors in the '40s to find out about starvation and refeeding. Turns out not everyone in Minnesota is nice. It was weird to read about things and think ‘Oh that’s why I do that!’ For example, needing food to be very hot. Like burn-your-tongue-and-fan-your-mouth-like-an-idiot hot. And developing the urge to hoard things, like clothes and books and DVDs (yes, I will happily blame that on my eating disorder.) And when you do let yourself eat, you can’t stop. I would be so full I felt sick but still keep going. And that’s totally normal.

It’s hard adapting to your new body

When you first start putting on weight, your poor body doesn’t really know what to do with it, so it basically shoves it around all your organs, which are centred in your torso area. Sadly, this is the bit I get fixated on. Looking in the mirror and seeing your once concave stomach look huge and bloated can trigger that anorexic machine to go into overdrive and tell you to stop, stop now. This is why constant support, an objective voice, is so important. If you keep going, keep eating, keep listening to your therapist, your body will realise, ‘Oh, OK, that wasn’t a one-off burst of energy that we needed to store for All Of Time, we can start working with this extra bit of Us’ and it will move it to other places.

Like your boobs.

I’d pretty much bid mine farewell, and then suddenly, running across the street to catch a bus, I felt this vaguely familiar jiggle of protest. It was like an invitation back to the club of bras and curves and looking like a healthy adult woman. It was something to focus on when I was staring at the newly emerging bits of me. Putting on that much weight often makes you feel like an overstuffed sausage, so finding little glimmers and positives among that misery really helps.

Look for the humour in every situation

It’s a very heavy topic…

… Groan.

But seriously, the thoughts anorexia produces are so ridiculous you have to laugh sometimes. It’s probably not a good idea to initiate the joke, since you might not know how the person is feeling about it all at that moment. Thoughts on your weight change like the British weather – from sunshine to showers with no warning. My own sense of humour got me through some of my toughest challenges, and while people struggle when I break out these slightly sick jokes at times, I actually love it when they take my lead and join in. Learning to laugh puts things in perspective and reminds you that there are more important things going on than the calorie content of a muffin.

I wrote this to be read, so please share if you feel like it.

I never thought this would be something I would have to face all day, every day. I didn’t see it coming the first time, so I won’t pretend to be able to predict the future and say it’s never coming back, hand me that burger so I may toast my resounding and permanent victory over this weird machine. Truthfully, it will probably be something I have to keep dealing with. But I have the tools and the team and the life lessons behind me, so I’ll be ready to take it on and win again.