May 2022
My children are growing up astonishingly fast. I know, I know - everyone warns you - but it’s hard to believe when it actually happens. No more small feet banging down the stairs for hugs when I get home from work, no more play dough, no more bubbles, no more Bedtime Hour on CBeebies, no more trips to soft play, no more standing in a park in the pissing rain… actually, it’s not all bad, this growing up thing. Nevertheless, I do find myself pining for the past and worrying about our future. My coping mechanism is (as always) to read as much shit as i can about the topic that is currently stressing me out, this time featuring an author who is very dear to my heart. Me.
I kept a diary from the ages of 12-21 with varying levels of consistency (plus ca change). I thought that if I re-read them I might gain some insight and be able to prepare in some small way for the teenage turmoil to come. I have no idea if it will work or not but it has certainly been revelatory. In revisiting these missives, I have been both delighted and appalled to re-read my own personal history. I think writing (almost) nightly diary entries has meant that I have fairly good recall on many events that happened but I have been absolutely side-swiped by the dodgy opinions, internalised mysogyny and the bass thrum of fear that underpins a lot of them. I am also a total dick far more of the time than I am fully comfortable with. My hope is that if I can face the brash, sneery, vulnerable, contradictory girl in these pages and feel compassion for her it may help me approach my flesh and bone maelstroms with kindness and compassion as they grow and develop too.
I have also been genuinely saddened to read some of the entries I wrote when trying to carve myself an identity. The way in which casual sexism and fear of sexual violence weaves it’s way through the pages has really surprised me and it has inspired me to record some of those entries on here in the hopes that we can celebrate that times and opinions have moved on and get really fucking angry about the things that haven’t. I intend to transcribe the selected diary entries verbatim and then add any comments or insights I have gathered underneath.
It should be noted that names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty. I have gone through Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls to generate the names so please don’t read anything into them - there are no hidden meanings here.
It should be noted that wine is no longer the coping mechanism that title and homepage of this website suggests. Wine is now simply a friend, a lover, a confidante and an entertainer. God bless you wine, and the strict schedule I use to enjoy you safely.
