I love to write in my local Starbucks, hidden away from the pokey eyes of the city. Almost a little bubble of inspiration that just sucks me in and bounces me around, ideas ping-ponging through my mind as I gage the feeling of a creative atmosphere from the quirky characters that occupy the tables nearby. A vibe attracts me to this cute little coffee shop and I cannot exactly explain why. Today, I have again ventured to my usual spot at the back of the coffee shop. I like it here. It’s quiet enough, yet I can see most of what goes on over the hours I drink my hot chocolate and silently cast my opinion on each person that enters and departs. It’s just what I do. I usually do this for an hour or so before I fully settle into writing my new piece for the week. When I write, I like it to be relatable. Not always serious, but yet for many people who read my words, tinted with what I like to see as light hearted humour it will project some sort of nod of the head as they smile to themselves. Whatever reason that may be of course. I don’t know what any single individual is thinking or feeling. That’s the beauty of just being somebody. Just like everyone in this world.
Individuality to me is both a burden and a treasure. May I add, this is just me telling you how I feel about being myself; The good, the bad and the rest. More than likely just like every other person out there who exists. Except mine will be from my thoughts, theirs from their own. Leaving my mind swimming in wonder. By wonder I do not mean ‘In awe’ I mean wondering. Wondering am I the only person who thinks these thoughts? Maybe another mind is sat similarly wondering the same thing? I must say that when it comes to expressing opinions and the likes I am one of the more forward speaking minds. Yet, there were times I restrained from saying what I felt really needed to be said. Nothing was ever meant to be offensive towards any other person, I would just simply say what was on my mind. Considered inconsiderate by some and brave by others. Staying safe and opting with never speaking out was of course an option but not one that I wanted to sign up to.
A solid fact is that each and every single one of us will harbour different thoughts. I started writing, ‘The Bella Effect’ so I could share these. Not for any other reason. Well, I lie, there is another reason. I transfer my unsure to embarrassing thoughts onto a page. That’s where they stay and I am then free from wondering because I have put it out there for every other like-minded female to judge me by. It doesn’t matter than because some will like what I say and some will not. Thoughts trigger emotions and some emotions I experienced needed throwing away. So that is what I did. I threw them into ‘The Bella Effect’ and hoped if even one woman benefited from me speaking a bluntly honest truth that they would feel better about themselves. I’m not trying to be Mother Teresa or a feminist or anything along the lines, but quite frankly I am sick to death of seeing others beating themselves up because they only speak the text book language of society out loud.
An example would be when I was sat in a mini bus at an event I was working on two days ago. Me and a colleague were tuned into a debate about swingers and if it was right or wrong to participate. (This is just one angle I am tuning into because it makes my point. I think.) The response was 50:50. Some gladly admitted they regularly attend these adult parties, making use of the sex swings, orgy rooms and vast majorities of condoms strewn throughout the readily made funhouse. Others, however were utterly disgusted that people even considered taking part in such acts. It’s compulsory now that I confirm all the men and women taking part were not emotionally treading on a bed of nails. They admitted that both they and their partners consented, whether that be going alone or as a couple. That point is key. However, the party of prudes that protest against such shameful activity openly vented their disgust. I am willing to hedge a bet that at least 10% of these prudes would fantasise about joining the party but would never dare say it, lest they become a part of society frowned upon for enjoying one of life’s simple pleasures. Sex. A percentage will not join in with the debate, keeping their thoughts locked away in that safe cupboard in the deepest part of their minds, so as know one will ever know. Within this hushed up bundle of thoughts are a mixture of opinions. Some will not like the idea of sharing their body or partner so openly. For the rest, it’s a thought that sits there wanting to be explored, to be let out and experienced. Except they can’t. Why? Know one else they know has ever said it’s OK, that’s why. No seal of approval would be given and the sheer shame of even doing a quick google search or confiding in a friend or partner makes them feel ashamed. So I leave this subject on the point I wished to make. I write about things that I think, feel and lock away because I am not the only one. Personally swinging is not for me as I would more than likely spend the entire time laughing and comparing myself to the other women, but you understand the concept.
Many moments make me cringe to the point of pain, my stupidity drowning me as the waves keep coming. Even if readers do not acknowledge because of the obvious embarrassment they feel by relating to any of my posts, be it sex, diets, relationships or one night stands I am fine with that. I haven’t used my real name because I don’t want recognition for anything. I just want to say what I say so when ‘The Bella Effect’ is read, as long as my words and sometimes utterly disapproving posts make some women laugh and smile with relief that actually, it is not just their crazy, shameful or self-destructing thoughts.; It’s shared by many. Often when I read articles by columnists opening up to reveal their innermost thoughts I get a huge sense of relief when I read the very words that made me doubt my sanity. It’s OK, she’s just as messed up as I am and I am so glad I’m not the only woman to experience THAT moment in the bedroom where everything went wrong.
I have nearly farted in my boyfriends face as he has his head between my legs. I woke up at 6am one morning for work and was so tired I forgot to put new knickers on and spent the day in the ones I wore to bed that night. I’ve hit other cars reversing out of a space and just put my foot down to get away. I have not talked to people because I have been jealous of their success (I got over it eventually.) I have secretly felt happy inside when summer is here and that model perfect girl is strutting in her hot pants looking incredible par the cellulite under her bum cheeks. I have letters from debt collectors because I was younger once and didn’t realise I had to pay back what I spent on those amazing cards that left me 4 digits away to having whatever I wanted. I have slept with a boy one of my friends had a crush on. I’ve also slept with a guy knowing he has a girlfriend. I’ve been arrested once. I have insecurities. I’m 26 years old.
Everything I write is based on the thoughts I have as I challenge going through my twenties. It’s a shit time. It’s also a time to make mistakes and find out what and who you are. Being open isn’t for everyone, that’s the fun of being an individual. You are who you are and no pressure should be weighed down to modify this.
That’s a bit about who I am, the girl behind ‘The Bella Effect.’ Who you are is your secret to tell or keep safe.
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