20 Untitled

I crawled into the office party looking like a crumpled black shroud, odd because I was wearing my red dress and had big, blonde, beauty queen hair. The ambience of this evening, in a room surrounded by the best of the eccentric social butterflies of London, was tainted.

By me.

I didn't want to be there, and no one wanted me there. Of course no one said it in so many words, however a lot can be said by the silence that occurs when you circulate into a conversation and then the evil that women are able to create in the iris' of their eyes.

My insides were screaming with infuriation; what I chose to do was none of their business, how I got to where I am today shouldn't matter, I got here didn't I? Surely I am now of the same class as everyone else in the room? But of course not. These people knew someone, who knew someone and that is how they got into this business, I however had to work my way here, somehow, making me lower, insignificant and weak. How that is correct, I have no idea. But that's the way it is these days, it's all about who you know, not what you know or even what you learn along the way.

I made plenty of mistakes along my journey here, but at least I had learning opportunities, these people however, are still the naive interns that they started out as, only now they're dressed in ridiculously expensive suits. Then there's me; Topshop dress and hairspray is all they see.

I worked hard to progress in this company, and I earned the title that I had always wanted. But I am still considered a lost cause, worthless and lazy; making me untitled.

19 Letter to a certain chauvinist

Dear anyone that treats you badly,

Thank you. You're the reason I know I deserve ten times better than you and the way you treated me.

You made me realise that no matter how well you think you know someone, they will always be able to shock you. In the most unpleasant of ways. I now see that people are always strangers, no matter how close you are to them. You never fully know someone because you are not them, you don't see what they see, you don't feel what they feel and you don't know what they know.

You never knew me.

You knew the me that you had degraded and hurt; created.

You made me lose who I am, and it's almost funny how easy it is to lose yourself, but then so difficult to find yourself again.

But,
things only get as bad as you are willing to let them. Blinded by the you that you wanted me to see, I let them get to a point of almost no return.

When I think of you now, all I feel is a mixture of disappointment and elation; disappointment that I allowed myself to get hurt, elation that it's over. Will never happen again. And that I've learnt my lesson.

Time heals everything and nothing last forever.

Thank God.

Lots of hate,

The me that you never got to see.