Hullo, gentle readership, I hope you have been keeping well.
I'm glad to inform you that it's official: The Summer of Luuuurve is well and truly here. With temperatures at a delightful high last weekend, I'm sure it's not just me that's been feeling the heat.
Share my bed, and my by-line
In other hot and steamy news, I have had a revelation this month. Although I spent time in the pits early this year cavorting with finance bros and consultants, much to my shame, I've recently realised that the solution was in front of me all along. Yes, in an act of perhaps stupendous narcissism, I finally understood that I was wasting my time dating people with Linkedin accolades I simply could not understand, when - and why didn't I see it before? - the answer to my dating dilemas was obvious. Date a fellow journalist.
In news that will surprise no-one, I find journalists incredibly sexy (and not at all self-absorbed). Not only are they 10/10 yappers (excellent), but this also means I now have industry networking directly built into my dating life, and can stay up late into the night mutually undressing while whispering sweet nothings about the IPSO editors’ code. Is this in the public interest? I THINK so.
Yum.
But, enough navel gazing, and on to the meat. Or rather…
Balls, balls, balls
Goolies, cobblers, family jewels, spicy nuts. Whatever you like to call them, it's an undeniable fact: I love people with big ‘ole balls.
When I say balls, I don’t mean the physical dangling slightly apologetic looking manifestation. I like to think of these fondly as more of a necessary evil required in order to achieve a desired outcome than something I actively adore.
No, I mean ballsy people. People that take risks, push the boat out, and aren't afraid to speak their mind. Because it isn't easy. Having some balls, sometimes, takes a lot of courage. It can require you to be vunerable. To push yourself.
This last month I've been in many situations that required me to put myself out of my comfort zone. In a job interview, I was faced with an intimidating panel, in a big office in a fancy part of London I'd never been to before. The imposter syndrome was creeping in big time as high-powered professionals with shiny shoes strode by as I waited nervously to shake the hand of the hiring manager.
It took looking to people I knew who were ballsy, go-getters in order to amp myself up to be confident enough to speak clearly and decidely when answering their questions.
But what if I balls it up?
Equally, in my personal life I came across a stumbling block. My fight or flight response was triggered by a text from someone relatively new to my life. Delving into why that had happened, and communicating it properly to the person was the necessary solution. But it scared me. It scared me shitless. To open yourself up in the early stages of dating is quite possibly the most frightening thing you can do. And I really really didn't want to.
But, I grew some balls and got on with it. And, eventually, everything turned out just fine. Better, even, than if I hadn't mustered up the courage to say how I felt.
So, if there's something in your life that really needs to be done, that you are desperatley putting off, I know how you feel. But often, just biting the bullet really is the answer.
So, go on. I dare you. Send the text. Apply for the job. Ask that cute barista out. Grow some bloomin’ balls.