On being nicer to myself

I have a problem. 

My problem is contraception. The girl who (pre-Ava) could take the pill or wear the patch for years without complaint has been having some serious problems in the safe sex department over the past couple of years. Any form of female related contraception these days seems to have a horrible effect on me. I'm not saying I resemble something out of Fatal Attraction or a particularly tense episode of Jerry Springer, but I'm definitely not myself when I am on these things. See bloated/constantly tired/spotty/irritable/snappy/always eating/highly emotional. And it's driving me nuts. I've tried everything and am in the throes of my latest contraception venture. I have sworn I will give it another few weeks and make it to the 3 month mark before I decide to throw the towel in on this one as well. But that's not actually what this post is about. This post is about how rubbish I have been feeling over the past couple of weeks and I've been thinking that if I already feel like shit and am having a hard time then why don't I just be a bit nicer to myself?

Crazy idea, huh?

I have a tendency to beat myself up about everything. And while that is fine when I am feeling on top form, when I am having a hard day I'm not sure it's really that necessary to make it even harder. I haven't been back to the gym in ages. Exercising 4-5 times a week makes me want to eat all the time.  I have never been the girl who goes to the gym and loses weight. I always seem to muscle up a bit and my appetite goes through the roof. The result being that I feel bigger. And my silly head just cannot deal with that and starts to freak out. I know exercise is healthy and good for you I will get back to doing something soon (yoga I reckon with the lovely Kirsty), but until them I am just going to enjoy not running in this freezing weather, not busting my balls in my gym and continue to avoid eye contact with my personal trainer when I see him at work. I am going to be nicer to myself.

I'm my own worst enemy. I'm the first to tell my girlfriends to give themselves a break but when it comes to taking my own advice I fall short. I torture myself for drinking mid-week wine and loathe myself for nights spent eating nachos and jelly sweets. But I'm done. Because who cares? It really doesn't matter. I've been chomping on Green & Blacks in front of the telly and ordering a weekly take-away for most of my 31 years now and I still haven't managed to get big enough to get my own Channel 4 documentary. So really I am just making myself stress over nothing. So I am going to be nicer to myself.

Incidentally I am just about to embark on my second attempt at the Paleo diet. You can read more about my first attempt here. I am hoping this attempt will be better and I was just doing it wrong before. Too much beer and too many burgers have not helped my already hormone-enraged mood swings. I feel lethargic, bloated and a bit chubby.But I am embarking on this diet again to eat more whole, natural foods and be a bit healthier. In short - I am being nicer to myself. 

I've been saying I am going to deep clean my kitchen for weeks. Last night was the night. D-Day. I was going to finish at 5pm, get home and get those marigolds on. By the time I had been to the supermarket and got in it was half six. And I put away the shopping, poured myself a G&T and got myself into a Lush bath. But once there I started to beat myself up about not doing the kitchen. Then I had a stern word with myself (probably out loud thanks to the gin) and explained to my self-hating self that as I was off until Sunday I would squeeze it in somewhere. Because I'm being nicer to myself.

I need to be nicer to myself by getting back into my book. I have been reading The Bell Jar for months now. Although thanks to reading past my bedtime last night I am almost done. I need to be nicer to myself by going to bed earlier and getting more sleep. Although that's not going to happen if I keep reading past my bedtime... I need to be nicer to myself by not stressing that I don't blog that much. I have never been the girl who types out hundreds of drafts and schedules them to appear in your feed at regular intervals. I blog when I feel like it and when I have the time. And I simply have to put the paid stuff before the blog stuff because if I don't I will still be paying my credit card off when I'm 60. And I intend to be sunbathing on a yacht somewhere in the South of France by then eating burgers and drinking Claret every day. 

As long as the flat is (relatively) clean, as long as those deadlines are being met and as long as I can still get in those skinny jeans (even if I can't breathe once I'm in them) is there really all that much to be giving myself such a hard time about? I doubt it.

So the next time you are beating yourself up over something silly - try and remember my new mantra.

And be a bit nicer to yourself.