📘 The Spaces in Between / 🎙️ The Basic Bitch Podcast - BB Journal: Chapter 1 - The Boy From Sidney
2018
I think the first domino low-key fell around Christmas in 2018. My job at the time, Revenue and Marketing Manager in a posh Cornish hotel put everything in motion.
I’ve always had an issue staying at a job longer than a year. I knew but never said it out loud, it was because I learned fast and there was no way for me to either progress or fully practice all the skills I developed, and so, after a year, a year and a half tops, I would get bored. I would look for a higher-paid and a more senior position that would allow me to practice all my skills and challenge me.
My friends and everyone around me would always make fun of me, to the point where my work life had become a running joke. Each time they would see me, they would ask how many new jobs I accumulated in the last week or month. I secretly loved it though.
My job hunting always paid off, financially and expertise-wise. It was also the only aspect of my life where I felt completely in charge. I didn’t have to hold back, I never felt silly or insecure and I could express myself fully. I felt like I was able to truly invest my time and energy into something that lit me up, even if it was for short periods of time.
I can still see my friends shocked faces each time they would hear about my latest job, unable to believe their ears that little old me, went from a receptionist to a project manager, almost tripling her salary in the space of seven years.
It’s funny because, for me, it was quite a natural way of existing, but for them, I was this naive, ditsy girl who had the luck to stumble in rooms and bullshit her way into jobs she had no business in.
Whilst it entertained me at the time, I can now see it was all a little window into how they truly saw me, but more importantly, it was a big window into the person I used to be around them.
This new job was, however, a step in a new direction. I was finally able to focus on marketing, have my own team, and finally able to build something cool. It came with a substantial pay rise, but I would soon find out that it would cost me more than it was worth. Nevertheless, I was pumped in all aspects. Not even finding out on the first day that the previous two people who were in my position didn’t last more than three months killed my vibe. I was rocking my new pencil dress and tote bag like a boss lady meaning business.
That whole year, leading up to the Australia trip slowly broke me. Alongside the work issues that were snowballing, I was waking up to the idea that I was engaged to a man who was nothing but a shell in the shape of a pretty boy. All my energy was split between fixing the same issues at work every day (and failing miserably) and convincing myself I was being ungrateful and a bitch to think about Panda like that.
The moment I said Yes to him, my stomach shrank and it never came back to its original size.
I went through the motions of denial, sabotage, making myself believe that I am indeed happy and have everything I’ve ever wanted but I’m too stupid to enjoy it, to forcing myself to feel the fire everyone talks about when referring to the person they’re about the marry. A decade next to Panda, and only now I am realising that something does not feel right.
Biggest advice you will ever receive: If you’re questioning it, it’s already missing.
From the moment I said Yes my body stiffened and all I wanted to do was cry. It was a year prior, on my 30th birthday. I sensed like something might happen and I was on edge the entire day. On the way back from work, I stopped by the harbour, got out of the car and stared at the ocean. The anxiety about seeing Panda took a back seat, as the teenager me came to the front. The sixteen-year-old me and I sat there, on the boot of my Alfa, looking at the sunset stretching over the sea, unable to believe that We fucking did it! We live by the sea! We get to see her everyday! A feeling of happiness took over me and I loved how my body felt.
I used to feel sad about turning 30. I thought I would have to change my style to look more like a grown-up woman, and I had to give up smoking weed and stop enjoying my films. But as I was sitting there, this sense of joy washed over me. It was me and the ocean, and I knew deep in my body that I could be anything I wanted to be. That age only means wisdom and nothing more. Then my phone rang, and seeing Panda’s name made me breathe a little faster. I suddenly remembered I could have what I wanted but within the rules of my current life. I can’t pick up and move if I decide to, I can’t pursue anything I feel I need. The little glimmer of hope I had in my mind initially, the one that felt like I was finally going to sit down and unravel what I really wanted, went back into hiding the moment I saw Panda’s face on my phone.
Looking back now I can see how unfair it has been for me to go along with the whole thing, no matter how good my intentions were. I was too scared to make him sad, angry or mad, and I kept telling myself we have such a nice relationship. I can’t just pack up and leave my life for no good reason. What else is there out there for me?
Sometimes my soul would be louder than my head and I would attempt to start deeper conversations or ask questions in an attempt to find some peace and reassurance.
“Do you think we’ll be together forever?” I used to ask him after a hit on my budbong. I was never able to start any love-related conversations sober.
“We will be together for as long as it makes sense. There is no way of knowing.” Panda would reply in an irritated tone.
I would instantly feel silly for even asking such a cheesy question. Of course, there is no way of knowing, what’s even the point for me to ask such a stupid question? Me and my stupid need for attention, I used to think immediately, wishing I never asked this question. But then, my half-baked soul would ignore my alarm and go further into my quest for validation.
“Do you sometimes look at me and want to just grab me and hold me? Like you can’t believe it’s me? Like you just want to rip my clothes off and kiss my entire body?” I would hear myself asking, whilst feeling stupid and embarrassed because I knew I wasn’t the type of girl to be desired like that. I wasn’t cute and girly or a rare beauty that people would just instantly desire.
Panda looked at me with a mocking smirk on his face and replied laughing “What? This isn't a rom-com, Tiger! This is real life. You’ve seen too many movies.”
Even today I am puzzled how two people who interact like that had no issue saying I love you everyday.
Some other times I would start more soulful conversations, ones that weren’t related to how we felt about each other, but how we felt about life in general. I think it was my brain’s way to tirelessly find something to align on, something similar that is equally important to us, something to work together towards, or at least, something I can support him on.
“Do you ever feel like there's more to life? That there’s more to do to do than just this?”
I have been asking this question from the day we met and his answer and behaviour remained the same.
“What do you mean more? What's wrong with this? Our home, our life? Look where we are. We get to walk to the beach, I get to come home and see you every day. What’s wrong with that?” He would reply.
“There’s nothing wrong with it. I love it. I’ve always wanted to live by the sea. We have a beautiful life. I was just wondering if you feel like there’s more you want to do in life. We wake up, go to work, come home, have dinner, watch TV and go to bed. On weekends we go for a walk on the beach or catch up with friends. I love it, but a part of me wants something more. I still want to accomplish more. Don’t you?”
“If something comes along yeah, I would love to, but if this is the worst it’s gonna get, I think we have a pretty good life. What else do you need?”
Back then, I used to wonder if he misunderstood the concept of gratitude. Yes, there's absolutely nothing wrong with having a nice home, a stable job, and someone next to you to watch films and have dinner with. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying where you are right now. But when who you are and what you do doesn’t change for over a decade, maybe something isn’t quite as it seems.
And then it hit me. I realised that everything he got was given to him. He’s never gone and got anything. Not the job, not the home, not me, and from the stories I heard, not his friends either. Once he got all these things, he worked hard to keep and maintain them, but he never had the courage or confidence to discover what he wanted and go get it.
This lifelong trend was weighing heavy on me, especially now that we were engaged.
And then, like clockwork, my brain would turn it around to make me comfortable. It was sensing I was getting out of the invisible circle that was my life and it gave me a helping hand. The moment my brain caught myself thinking those things about the boy I loved, it told me how cruel and cold I was for thinking those things. I would feel like I was betraying him, he would be crushed if he ever found out how disrespectful my thoughts were sometimes.
I have the sweetest deal in the world and I don’t even deserve it. Yes, we don’t have the fire or the sexual and physical intimacy, but we get along well. I get to keep my independence and do what I want when I want to. I don’t depend on him and most importantly, he does not depend on me.
Just because I miss this it I can’t define nor have I ever experienced, that’s no excuse to throw away a ten-year relationship and hurt Panda who has been nothing but patient and understanding with me. I don’t like people to look at me too deeply anyway. And yes, there might be moments when I miss being on fire with someone else and maybe, I will grow more confident to ignite and drive that fire between us, but for now, for now I can focus on building my career.
And most importantly, he knows how I feel about children and he’s not pressuring me. He only wants them if I want them. I will never find another boy who fits all my irregular shapes. I’m definitely not pretty enough to be this different and have so many exceptions to the rules. Maybe he’s right, maybe I’ve watched too many rom-coms as a teen. I know I watched Dirty Dancing a few too many times. That chemistry and desire doesn't exist in the real world.
These cycles and thoughts were trickling down nicely in the background of my unaware fear of abandonment and lack of self-worth brain.
At the forefront of this conditioned brain, was a series of really bad work environments where, no matter how hard I’d try, I kept failing.
And to top it all off, in the midst of all this, I got a sudden hit in the face with the it I’ve been fantasying about. Not the full it, just the sexual chemistry and intensity of it, still, one I have never experienced before. It took me by surprise and I had no idea what to do and how to act. It was the kind of sexual chemistry that, only by thought alone, made me wet every day for weeks.
Even if I danced around the line by finding excuses to be around him and spend time with him at work, nothing ever happened and I never crossed any lines.
I rationalised it at the time. I understood that how I felt might be out of my control, but my actions weren’t. So I took the situation for what it was - something showing me that I was capable of feeling the fire, the passion, the raw sexual desire for another guy. Even if I was never able to find out what’s it like to experience those feelings when both parties are equally invested, I loved that I have experienced that. I knew I was capable of feeling something intense inside me. It gave me hope that maybe I’m not the problem. That maybe if I work hard enough, Panda and I will reach the same level of intensity.
This chaotic year was passing by faster than I could keep up with, and by the time we were ready to take the trip of a lifetime, that’s how Pandas’ mother called it, I found myself in a visa-less, passport-expired mess, rabbit caught in headlights, paralyzed shell of a human being. I was not only an irresponsible foreign adult, but I was also the one who could ruin a family Christmas vacation.
We booked and paid for the Australia trip at the beginning of the year and we only realised we needed visitor visas a month or so before departing. All the Brits got theirs in 24 hours but because I am not one, things ended up being a little more complicated than expected.
With a few letters from my employer certifying I was indeed employed and planning to come back to the UK, three months' bank statements certifying I indeed have the money to be able to afford three weeks in Australia, countless trips to London to renew my ID card, so I can renew my passport and a complete list of booking confirmations, flights confirmation and people joining me later, the file was submitted and it was a waiting game now.
Not only I was a small piece in a big family holiday puzzle, but I was also an inconvenience. I ended up missing the flight because my visa didn’t come through in time. By the time I came back from the airport after being unable to board my flight, all I wanted to do was to use the three weeks I had alone to take some time and breathe.
I needed time out, to figure out what the fuck was happening. But then, the visa came through and because it was a “once in a lifetime family holiday and I simply must come, no matter the cost because it has to be all of us, and we care about you”, I embarked on the next flight out.
Despite the scorching weather in Byron Bay, the atmosphere was pretty frosty when I got there.
The passive-aggressive hating game was not only on point but was a team effort too. I was so embarrassed, disoriented and self-hating, that all I wanted to do was to be quiet, not draw any attention, show my appreciation, and maybe enjoy the beach.
Even though the trip came at the peak of a very dark time that no one knew about, not even me, something magical happened.
I fell in love with Byron Bay. The beaches, the FroYos, the smoothie bowls, palm trees, the 6 am runs (I was just as shocked as you are), the sun and the waves.
The more I think about it, the more I feel the need to experience it again as the person I am today.
I didn’t realise until very recently, but there are a few quick moments, conversations and places that are frozen in time for me. The energy of the town, the little passage I found to the beach, the little patch of grass outside the apartment where I chilled after my run, the blunt in the backyard that pushed me over the edge, the waterfall and the boy from Sidney that made me feel seen for the first time in a long time.
Christmas time was a busy and loud time. There was a mixture of groups. Housemates, Panda, his sisters and their friends, his family and then, there was me. Although, I am not sure I was there for all of it.
During that time, I spent a few days around the boy from Sidney. I don’t remember seeing him for the first time, he sort of just appeared. A pair of eyes were locked on mine from across the table. It wasn’t like a flirtatious look, it was more like, he could see me, truly see what was behind my eyes. The gaze lasted longer than a quick glance so naturally, the fearful me started to panic. In those seconds, while my thoughts took over and told me someone else can see my ugly face and wondering why the fuck they were still looking, my palms started to sweat. I finally regained control over my eyes and quickly looked away.
Weirdly, I was left with this feeling that he could see my soul and the fire I had hidden inside of me.
During those days I was simply haunting the place. I was a seethrough and anxious mess, not knowing what to say or how to act, having absolutely nothing to contribute to the group. It was as if my entire personality had been burnt down. My wit, my humor, and my intelligence were all taken away and I felt like I was the family’s misbehaving dog, waiting by the table for someone to throw me scraps so I could sneak in the corner and eat them in shame.
I felt as if things had gone a bit worse after the boy from Sidney saw me for the first time. It was one thing to be a chubby hot mess when no one was looking, but having someone actually notice you in the room, really turned up the sweat levels.
During those days, I either sat next to him or across from him and could feel my cheeks burn every time his leg touched mine or our gaze crossed. The anxiety of someone asking me questions or wanting to talk to me has gone so bad that I couldn’t articulate my words anymore. My accent had become thicker than ever, my voice would get lost somewhere between my throat and my lips, and all I wanted was to be back in my bed, in my safe bedroom with the lights off.
I would catch myself rehearsing things in my head I could say, just to seem more normal, because I knew that my behaviour was questionable, especially around him.
A few days later we all went swimming by the waterfall. There were too many young and fit people around so naturally, I kept my shorts on and lay on the rocks for the entire day. Didn’t even go touch the water because everyone would see my disgusting rolls.
There’s always been something between me and water. It’s like we’ve had a lifelong soul affair. Every time I’m around it, I feel more grounded, more calm.
I was lying on the rocks, listening to the waterfall, feeling the hot sun on my tummy, looking up at the clouds. A very soft breeze would come and go, and I loved how much its rhythm was taking me by surprise. I was smoking my rollie and drinking my beer while everyone was playing in the water.
As I was lying there, looking up at the clouds in an unbothered bliss for the first time since Australia touchdown, the boy from Sidney came out of nowhere and sat next to my head.
He started to talk. Asked me a question.
I replied.
He asked more questions.
I asked some.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like a human person having a human conversation with another human person. For me then, such an ordinary, normal occurrence felt like the most extraordinary experience. Someone to hear and see you, be interested in what you say, and want to also give you meaningful and honest information, was something that I haven’t experienced in a very long time.
I wish I could remember the details of our conversation. As unbothered as I was in that moment, I was still pretty high on the anxiety levels, so details were denied access.
I remember the feeling though; learning about him and his family and about his life.
I remember suddenly knowing how he sees the world. Even though I didn’t have the words to assign to the knowing, I knew and I think I still do.
I remember feeling like there was a slight sadness in his voice, like something was missing or like he was looking for something but hadn’t figured out what it was yet.
I remember thinking that he seemed like a lonely person, even though he gave me the impression he was quite a popular person.
I remember answering his personal questions honestly but I don’t remember what the questions were.
I remember only looking at him once during our conversation and saw his gaze lost in the water as he was telling me about his family.
Whenever I think about my time in Australia, the conversation by the waterfall takes center stage, even though I don’t remember a word that was said.
The irony is, I’m not even sure if I remember it all correctly. The six-year-old version of me was so transparent, this might be a Fight Club situation as far as I know. Still, deep down, I remember feeling like we were the same; dealing with the same things in different forms, searching for the same thing, and being a bit more lost than we initially intended to. I also felt like we still had the hope, the knowing that one day we will find our way back to who we are.
Next to the boy from Sidney, I felt an unusual sense of comfort, of camaraderie.
On our last night, I felt like I’ve loosened up a bit. The music was loud and I was thirsty for beer and weed. For the first time since I got there, I felt a bit more free to join in the fun.
On the first day when his eyes fixed on me, I felt a very faint trace of curiosity behind them. When it happened again on our last night, there was a sense of familiarity, a subtle smile and something loving about it. It was as if two best friends reunited as adults, after a lifetime apart. They don’t know each other as grown-ups yet, but they remember each other as kids. It’s as if they have a secret, that they know each other’s core, starting point, the one that the people around them don’t. Unrelated to this part of the story, but Australian weed is pretty good.
This time around though, I held his gaze for what felt like an eternity. We smiled at each other. I gave him the biggest smile and didn’t even care how much my face looked like the Jokers’, whilst he gave me a Patrick Verona charm-like smile. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like another human and I had a lifelong secret. Once again, Australian weed, top notch.
Intentional or not, the few moments with the boy from Sidney were real to me. I remember them so vividly, for the first time I felt what it was like to stop for a second and breathe.
It was as if this stranger I had just met, wasn’t buying the anxious, insecure, stuttering, sweaty palm mess of a shy girl sitting next across the table from him. Not only that but I felt like he could see there was another person hidden inside me, one I didn’t even know. I felt like he was staring at her, daring her to come out.
And the big, feet-off-the-ground, coffee-almost-spilling-everywhere-and-he-gave-zero-fucks bear hug he said goodbye with, was the perfect ending to our camaraderie.
I didn't know then and it’s so weird how time works, but I now realise the full impact these moments had on me.
Looking back, I now see they have subconsciously contributed to the snowball that was to come. It was the first piece of the domino to fall. It was quiet and in the dark, but it fell nevertheless.
I will probably never see him again, and he will probably never know this, and perhaps there is a chance that the version of me that year was in so much need of some sort of human contact that she romanticized the experience. Either way, I am so eternally grateful for having met the boy from Sidney and having these memories. He truly changed my life.
Looking back now, I truly believe that no situation, no experience is inherently bad. It’s up to us to choose to see the good, the lessons, the magic; to find the postive perspective, the one that will force the situation to serve us, not destroy us.
Someone out of this world said that nothing in this world has built-in meaning. And I truly see it now. We get to decide how everything affects us, what we learn and how long it will take us, how we grow or not grow.
Life hits differently when you realise that nothing can’t affect you without your permission.
You have all the power, you just don’t know it because everyone around you has told you were existing wrong.
There is absolutely nothing wrong or inadequate about you but it’s your job to exchange people's beliefs for your own.
Everything is here to serve us and everything is rooting for us.
There’s another part to this story.
This story also serves as a testament to the value we bring to others by just being ourselves.
Shows how you help the ones around you; by acting how you’re feeling in the moment, by not hiding your true feelings and true self for so long that you no longer know how to behave.
When you are being yourself and not hiding your energy from others, it not only benefits you but the others around you. The ripples of your love and care go wide and deep, and affect the ones around you.
Your authentic energy does not only serve you and your own purpose but it also uplifts, encourages, inspires and can make the ones around you feel seen.
I’m sure the boy from Sidney was going through his own struggles, I’m also sure the alcohol and weed might have influenced him, but all he did was be himself. Something I was unable to do for years. Substances or not.
All the little moments we shared, whether he intended any or not are irrelevant, because it was my experience. Those moments spoke to my soul, and helped me to start seeing myself because, for the first time in over a decade, I felt like someone saw me. Really, truthfully and wholeheartedly saw the me hiding inside the shell.
By being ourselves in every moment of every day, even when are on a destructive path, even when are suffering, even when are struggling, we can still help others.
We never know how far the ripples of our soul can travel.
And to the boy from Sydney, those moments are tattooed on my soul.
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