Fortune Favours the Bold


“Fortune favours the bold” was said to me this week by a colleague. It followed me giving the news that I have a new job, but more than that I got the job after I had quit my current job, with nowhere to go.

It’s been an horrendous couple of weeks almost on par with 2012. I lost a family member, I was going for jobs and just missing out. My confidence was plummeting and it seemed to be seeping out of my pores.

So I did it, I handed my notice in. I couldn’t keep doing a 450 mile round trip every week, although a friend recently converted me to the world of Podcasts, which has made the journey so much better. (All Killa no Filla is bloody brilliant and hilarious, I’ve chomped through 45 episodes in about a month!). The journey was killing me (no pun intended) and I think it can be easily underestimated what a journey like that can do to you. Firstly, I have way too much time to think… And accidentally catch my reflection in my phone in the cradle and rag on my on own face “Stupid double chinned bastard…. Blleuuuurgh”. Also it prevents me getting home and wanting to exercise. Husbandface has been using the cross trainer a lot lately and it’s been making me jealous. I’m too pooped and cranky, and let’s face it fucking STARVING, to even want to get on it.

Anyway last week I went on an interview. I wanted that job. I mean I REALLY wanted that job. I actually really pleased myself with how I performed, I was myself and I actually enjoyed the process. It was a tough field and I knew I was up against it. So in the interview I decided to be a bit bold… I knew they were interviewing for other jobs the next week. So I asked if they didn’t appoint me for the Head of Dept role, that they might consider me for a teacher role. And it worked out! They couldn’t offer me the HOD role, and they put me through into the next process. Had to wait nearly a week, and I had already handed my notice in, but I got the job. If I hadn’t of asked I wouldn’t have even been considered for that job. I am so thrilled.

So today I am laying in a hotel bed, in Sheffield (nearly 200 miles from home), typing this. Today I am going to meet a stranger, actually not a stranger but a member of my Secret Girl Gang. A Girl Gang without whom I might not have found Body Positivity, or the confidence to rock up and meet someone I’ve only known as black characters on white background, as emojis and a profile picture. If you’d told me 5 years ago I’d do this sort of shit, I wouldn’t have believed you. Don’t get me wrong I’m hot ball of anxiety (I’ve bought about 3 different outfits in case I don’t like myself in what I have chosen), what if she thinks I’m a dick? or I have catfished her and I’m too hideous to be seen in public? However, I can see this is my poison parrot talking, my awful nagging little voice, that tells me I’m shit and disgusting. Well I say “Fuck you Mr Parrot”. I’m going to meet a beautiful lady and make a new friend. It’s also made all the more poignant by the loss of one of our tribe in a terrible accident on Monday. So I’m going to squeeze this lady a little longer and harder than might be comfortable and enjoy every second.

So be bold! Be brave, whether that’s looking in a mirror and telling yourself that you are beautiful, or that you like something about yourself, even if it’s “I have cute ears”. Bravery isn’t big acts of heroism and jumping in front of bullets, it’s tackling those small things that scare you, it’s picking up the phone and calling someone you miss, it’s telling that gob-shite of a parrot to “do one”, or its quitting your job without anywhere to go for the sake of your mental health. Bravery and being bold isn’t exclusive to big, muscular superheroes or soldiers, but it’s for us regular folk too.

By the way, did I tell you….? Fortune favours the bold! And, you my lovely, can be bolder than you think!

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