Today I deactivated my Facebook. Well, in truth I deactivated it and then reactivated and then deactivated it again – hey, it’s a big step. The strange thing was that I feel hugely relieved once I had done it because the truth is Facebook makes me feel bad. It makes me feel bad and sad and inadequate. I got to the point where I’d find myself reach for my phone, open the Facebook app and then idly swipe through photos of someone who I most likely haven’t spoken to in years, comparing their life to mine and most likely judging them and judging myself. Were they more successful? Were the happier? Was my life as good as theirs? Was it better?
But the truth is that Facebook is just full of lies – it’s a snapshot of life, not real life. No one puts up pictures of themselves curled up with cramps and the Girls box set, or throwing up the morning after a heavy night, nor do they go into detail about that awful moment at work where they totally fucked up, or that time they had a huge fight with their boyfriend even though they knew they were being irrational. And if anyone does post about something like that everyone silently thinks ‘keep it to yourself!’. Instead Facebook is full of beaming faces, engagement announcements, baby photos (no mention of sleepless nights and nipple chaffing) and people looking impossibly happy.
I know half the point of social media is that you can portray yourself however you choose, but surely the other main point is that you’re supposed to be social? When I realised today that I literally was just using it to snoop on people and not actually interact I decided it was time to put it behind me. Maybe this is an early New Year’s resolution, who knows, but it’s about time I started actually talking to people properly and say GOODBYE FACEBOOK…
So apparently Tinder is dead. For a few months at the end of last year it was all anyone single talked about – we’d get out our phones and compare matches – but apparently everyone with any sense is coming off it. But, I have to admit, I have a bit of a soft spot for Tinder.
In January I agreed to go on a Tinder first date. That sounds like perfectly normal behavior, I know, and I had been on Tinder dates before, but by this point I had one hell of a case of online dating fatigue combined with January blues and raging PMT. I had also agreed to go bowling – in fact I’m fairly sure I suggested the bowling – so it’s no wonder that I swiftly came to the conclusion that I was having some kind of New Year related breakdown and decided to cancel. The only issue was that the date had already paid for 2 games and I couldn’t bring myself to be that girl. I’d been having a bad run of luck with men and Tinder had really lost its shine for me but I went along and there, waiting for me at All Star Lanes trying not to look flustered (I was twenty minutes late and we nearly lost our slot), was Doug. Within two minutes he had me smiling, within half an hour he had me crying with laughter and by the end of the night we were both pretty smitten. I’m fairly sure it was him confessing to having an irrational fear of goldfish that won me over. And now, 10 months later, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and we are in the process of moving in together.
he actually looked like his picture!
I didn’t mean to fall in love and I really wasn’t looking for it, I had become jaded by the relentless dating scene of London – the endless awkward moments, the drunken kisses, the awful mid-week hangovers and the constant uncertainty – I’d had enough. During the course of two years I had been on countless first dates – I’d tried blind dates, dating friends (a mistake I repeated more than once), online dating and eventually, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, I joined Tinder.
I loved Tinder at first, there seemed to be an endless amount of fun to be had swiping left or right, moving so quickly I couldn’t have told you what the last person I swiped looked like – I felt the world was suddenly full of potential fun. I got a little buzz every time I got a match and for a while it was all anyone seemed to talk about. Over a glass or two of wine we’d show each other our matches, show screen grabs of the weird and the wonderful and share our disappointment of actually meeting these people and realizing that, like with most online dating profiles, they rarely lived up their online persona.
But soon the buzz started to fade. Matches became disposable in a way I hadn’t experienced with more traditional online dating and I suddenly found that my attention span wouldn’t last longer than a few exchanged messages and then, even if I was having quite an entertaining chat, I would move onto the next guy. I wasn’t alone in this – plenty of guys were doing it to me and the friends I discussed it with were finding the same thing: we had too much choice, what if there was something better on the next swipe?
Tinder rapidly went from being the most exciting thing in dating to something that could no longer hold my attention. But in December, after far too many After Eights and probably at least half a bottle of red wine, Doug messaged me. I firmly believe that it was a combination of Christmas cheer and boredom that brought us together initially. Luckily for us the playful flirting and banter translated to real life when we met, and now I honestly couldn’t be happier.
our first camping trip
I’m neither pro nor against Tinder, I think everything comes down to timing, and what works for some people, doesn’t work for others, but swiping right was the best thing I have ever done. Who knows though, if I hadn’t been in the midst of an After Eight induced coma I might have moved onto the next one…
I have an obsession with Asia, ever since I first landed as naive eighteen-year-old in Thailand, it has been somewhere that I can’t get out of my head. I remember getting off the plane so clearly – I was hit by a wall of humidity and my heart was being as fast as a hummingbird’s – I’d never felt so alive, and by the time I was eating my first banana pancake on a beautiful stretch of sand, I was in love. Maybe it was because it was the first place I travelled to alone, maybe it was because I was young, maybe it was the Red Bull (if you’ve been to Thailand you’ll know what I’m talking about) but whatever it was, I have been chasing that feeling ever since.
That first trip was a terrifying thirteen years ago and since then I have travelled whenever I have been able to, to wherever has been possible. When I was younger this meant going off for three month adventures, sleeping in dorm rooms smelling of old socks, endless games of ring of fire and shithead, getting lost on a daily basis with no plan, Lonely Planet in hand, all in the aim of experiencing everything I possibly could (I shudder when I think about some of the things I ate now). When I was 22 I landed a job working for an NGO who sent me out to Central America, where I accidentally ended up running a turtle conservation project in Nicaragua for two years. These days travelling is a bit different, if I’m honest I genuinely don’t think I’d last more than one round of ring of fire and the thought of sleeping in a dorm room fill me with horror, but I’m still always chasing that feeling, the feeling you get when you arrive in a new country and every sense is overwhelmed, desperate to take it all in. Travelling makes me feel alive and nowhere I have been does more so than Asia. I think of it as having an insatiable thirst – no matter how much of it I try to drink in, it’s never enough, I always want more, I need more.
I’ve just got back from three weeks in Sri Lanka, I had never been before but would go back there in a heartbeat. One of the main things that struck me about Sri Lanka was how incredibly calm, gentle and kind the people were and how efficient the country seemed, especially considering that in recent years it has been recovering from a civil war and the 2004 tsunami. The other thing that struck me was how different it was to South East Asia – for some reason I had expected it to have that same kind of erratic energy but it didn’t, it felt like Thailand’s calm and well-mannered cousin. Sri Lanka is beautiful and, for me, one of the most beautiful things about it was the abundance of nature and animals. Going on a 5 am safari round Yala National Park was breathtaking and we were lucky enough to see TWO wild leopards as well as monkeys, bison, wild boar and a whole array of birds including peacocks dancing during mating season. There is something about monkeys that really give me the giggles – I could absolutely watch them for hours and not get bored. One of the most magical moments of the trip for me was driving from Tiss in the south (actually called Tissamaharama, you can see why the shorten it) up to Ella in the hill country. On the winding road up into the mountains I spotted an incredible looking waterfall and asked the driver if we could stop to take a photo, when we got out of the car we noticed there were about twenty monkeys just hanging out on the side of the road, jumping on street signs and just generally having fun. I just love their faces.
roadside monkeysun setting behind the palm trees – Unawatuna beach
Although it’s a relatively small island, Sri Lanka is surprisingly un-backpacker-friendly meaning that it’s quite expensive in comparison to other parts of Asia I’ve been to (not including Japan). Most of the tourists in the parts we travelled round were families or couples which adds to the calm feeling but if it’s a party you’re looking for, Sri Lanka isn’t your place. But if you want to see a varied environment – from mountains to jungles to unspoilt beaches, then Sri Lanka might be the place for you.
Sri Lankans are a really interesting bunch, culturally there is a huge mix of religions who now live fairly harmoniously together. The country is 70% Buddhist with the remaining 30% made up of Christians, Hindus and Muslims. What I found particularly charming about the Sri Lankans is that they are so incredibly proud of their country and desperately hope that tourists love it and plan on returning. They are also very keen to share their own personal story – this might be because we went to areas that were destroyed by the tsunami, but it was so moving to hear the stories first hand. The devastating tsunami hit on 26th December 2004 killing an estimated 150,000 – 200,000 people and left hundreds of thousands of others displaced, homeless and with nothing apart from the clothes on their back. Hearing stories first hand of people losing their families, of how high the waves reached, of the fear they felt was something so emotional that I’m not quite sure how to describe it.
rainy days
If you get the chance to go to Sri Lanka then I urge you to, there is something for everyone and the warmth that you are greeted with is magical. I would recommend taking a pretty good rain jacket if you cross over with one of the two monsoon seasons…
I haven’t written a blog for years and I have missed it. I have missed writing down my thoughts, my likes and dislikes, my mishaps and adventures, and so I decided to start a new blog. Last time I had a blog I wrote about having my heart broken and I was so open and honest that it makes me squirm to think about how I wrote about my drunk dialling, my nights of sobbing into bottles of pinot grigio and, worst of all, my sex life. But, writing that blog is something I will never regret – I was overwhelmed by how many people got in touch to tell me they were going through the same thing and that it would be ok, and even though every person in my office knew the ins and outs of my sex life, it helped me immensely just to write down my thoughts. So, nearly four years on, I have decided to start a new blog. This time I haven’t had my heart broken, in fact I am in an amazing relationship and am very happy, but I’d still like to share what’s going on in my life, even if no one ever reads it.
A Girl Called Hana 