In previous years I have thought long and hard about what I could give up for Lent that might help me better myself in some way. I have come up with some truly bizarre ideas such as giving up procrastination, giving up the use of non-words (such as erm, err and ‘like’) and giving up being late for things.
I now know that it’s nearly impossible for me to give any of that up. A few years ago my sister once said to me, “Sarah, you are an ideas person; you are not a completer-finisher!” Liz is spot on. Therefore this year I plan to give up giving up and aggressively pursue some of my personal goals.
One of these goals is that I aim to be paid only by doing things that I truly enjoy. Obviously a big hobby of mine is travel – last week I completed my first On Board Courier mission to New York and I’m on standby for more. In the meantime I am working part time with a florist (I am learning loads already!) and I am propagating my own plants at home with a view to designing and creating some living art. I’m still running my little jewellery business (Darby London for anyone interested) however im currently in limbo what with waiting for my new online shop – very exciting!) My other official current income is via agencies for promotions and tv extra type roles.
So across all my very flexible jobs, I somehow seem to be winging it quite well, without being too tied down to anything (a desk in particular) and my fear of commitment is not being tested too greatly which is perfect for me right now. No two days are the same and I am currently really happy and excited for the endless possibilities that could come.
Fridge Magnet Collection so far Feb 2016
I know a lot of people who could not live the way I do, and there are days when things seem so tough, but the highs most certainly do justify the lows. This year I aim to make sure that The Darby Diaries will be mostly full of highs.
I would love to hear about anyone else’s ideas on Lent and whether you have decided to give anything up… or not?!
Of course I have some fantastic shots of my short time in snowy Sofia and Manhattan. And I plan to reveal these later in the week! Although your current treat is in the header shot of Sofia’s modest and wonderful ‘Mount Vitosha’, which was my fun way of linking up my travels to the story that follows beneath.
But for now I want to share something that bothered me greatly while I was away and at the same time I feel like reaching out to anyone who has spent as much money and as many days of their life trying to paint a skin coloured balaclava on their face as I have.
When I was a little girl I quickly learned that going through Mum’s girly things while she was downstairs in the kitchen was one of the most exciting things I could do with my day. Everything looked super shiny and smelled like princesses and unicorns. One day I came across this boring-looking grey pot. I found this one pretty hard to open by myself so I caved and went down to ask her what it was. She didn’t even bother asking me how I found it (Mums already know everything) and she told me it was to put on boils and spots to make them better. I asked her what she meant and she pointed to a cut on her face. Ouch.
Even at 16 – my most angry age – I was blessed with clear skin
Until I reached 18 I had not a single zit on my face. I had escaped the curse. Until one day around this time, I suddenly grew a painful and unwanted second head right in the middle of my forehead. It was pretty much right between the eyebrows and the size of a crouton and I popped it and it went all over the mirror. I didn’t go out for a week.
Aged 18, about 6 months before my first unwanted little friend. I don’t think I used anything other than water to wash my face back then!
Luckily I didn’t suffer too much more until I turned 24 and out of nowhere developed a rash on my chin, which seemed to be getting worse and spreading up my jawline. When the doctor told me it was acne, I was pretty shocked. I was prescribed some Clyndamycin solution and it went away. A year later it came back (I had grown resistant to the lotion) and I was upgraded to antibiotics. I took these for a further four years until my stomach could no longer handle them. After this point it was a case of putting up with the problem. I must say, however, that in recent years I have often been told that I look much younger than my age. I attribute my youthful looks to my teenage skin. Every cloud… Funnily enough since I went all hardcore on travelling, the general problem seems to have significantly improved. My inner happiness did wonders for my health.
There have in fact been a couple of one-off hilarious incidents…
However during my trip to the Big Apple, my past came back to haunt me. This was a hard, bruising, under the skin devil which I shall name Treasure Island. You may find this name strange but a girl has simply got to believe that even their worst enemy can be a great source of richness, an inner power, a teaching, a test, a challenge. The things that make us fight back and kick arse are the very things that show the world what we are made of. OK so a couple of spots is no big deal but I’m just trying to do one of those cliché metaphors that everyone loves….
The 32 year old teenager in me picked away furiously and inevitably created a war zone, which was very hard to conceal that morning as the centre of the eruption was oozing it’s lava causing concealer to slide off to the sides, only accentuating my problem.
Now – that little grey pot that I found in Mums cupboard was the magic itself, Sudocrem. Thankyou Mother, for the gift of problem and solution. When we used to live together at Firbank (I have lots of great stories yet to come on that magical household), my good friend Sophie and I would sit in the living room for hours in the evenings with white faces. We were porcelain Goddesses. This is a completely normal thing for any girl to do every week, so get involved. This was usually our first port of call during a crisis. Unfortunately being on my travels last week and packing so light, I had no such remedy, or friend, to hand. So I had to ride this one out. I sent a selfie to my good friend Emma, who has also suffered a similar battle. She had no solution and only empathy to offer at this time, which was all that I could have asked for. I was in New York in Mid Town, alone, and needed confidence. Well that was pretty much what happened in the end, I grew a pair and wrapped a scarf round my face. It was snowing anyway.
I’ll now get to the bit you’re all waiting for, and so for one time only, I present to you Treasure Island. Please can I just mention that this photo does in NO WAY do Treasure Island any justice at all…
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