Oh, Marlene..

Marlene Dietrich said, 'I do not think we have a right to happiness. If happiness happens, say thanks'. As much as I love you, I totally disagree, sorry Marlene! 

We all deserve happiness, don't we? We weren't just put on this earth to work ourselves to death, ensuring large profits for fat cats who pay lip service when it comes to caring about our welfare!

As I write this I hear Maggie Thatcher's voice booming out with her ''children who need to be taught traditional moral values are being taught they have an inalienable right to be gay''. You were right in one thing, Thatcher, children were being ''cheated of a sound start in life- yes cheated''. You made sure of that with your homophobic Section 28. You made sure that I was a confused teenager and that this confusion went into my 20s...even late 20s... You made sure that I was so confused at not being interested in boys when the other kids would talk about who they had kissed and who they fancied. You made me hide when the first lesbian kiss was shown on TV when I was 15... Hide because I liked it and I felt shy about liking it and I didn't want my parents or friends to know, because what was this life? Was it even an ''option''? I didn't know. I couldn't comprehend it. I knew I was different to most, which is probably why I was bullied throughout school. No one talked about the prospect of gay relationships. Sex education focussed on not getting pregnant and not catching aids (the less said about the awful aids advert with the big rock, the better!) and STIs. It didn't tell us that we had the right to find true love and that love is love no matter what. 

The light didn't ping for me until I was 28, and by that time I had gone down society's expected norm and got married to a man...even though I knew, when I was walking down the aisle (and in the run up), that it wasn't right. But why wasn't it right? I continued to cause arguments just so that he would sleep in another bed to me. I didn't want to be touched by him in any way. I didn't know why. I just knew that I didn't want sex with him or even affection.  Just 6 months to a year later, I developed a crush, and although nothing happened, I am ever so grateful to her, and it was a genuine lightbulb moment. Ah-ha! That is what it is! Ok, so what to do now? I had no clue. Yes, we had the internet but it isn't like it is now (I mean Section 28 was only repealed in 2003..and we still saw headlines of the likes of ''gay judge..'' like his sexuality had anything to do with his job!). I found a site called, 'Gaydar Girls', just to chat to other women and I ordered three dvds- Sugar Rush (a whole series set in Brighton about a lesbian), Imagine Me and You, and Kissing Jessica Stein. I quickly had two dates with women lined up. I knew that I preferred older but one of them was younger and convinced me to meet her. By this time I was almost 30 and she turned out to have lied about her age and was only 24. We had a nice evening out but I told her that it wouldn't work. The day after, I had a date with a human rights lawyer; I will call her Diane for the purposes of this blog, who was 11 years older. The first date was in The Shakespeare's Head in Soho, not far from where I was working. It seemed to go very well. We agreed on a second date- a sushi restaurant in Hampstead, apparently not far from where Diane lived. This date was the total opposite of the first. She cried on my shoulder about a woman she was in love with but who was married to a man and the woman loved her but she wasn't sure what the future held etc. Then she spoke about money a lot. And for someone who was a human rights lawyer it jarred! Especially when she pointed out her little blue car later and then said, ''I have another one at home. It's a (can't remember, but a posh one)... but I don't drive it often as people stare.'' I knew then that she wasn't for me, and just add that I clearly wasn't for her as not long after the woman she was crying over, let’s call her Kate, left her husband and moved in with Diane and her daughter. 

But how did I fit into this gay and lesbian world..? When I went to a gay bar or two with one of my good (but straight) friends, I just didn't feel like I fitted. It smelled and I didn't look anything like the women in there... I joined another couple of dating sites and met a woman who became my first girlfriend. Realising you are gay later in life, for me, was like being a teenager again and I guess that I got caught up in it all that I ignored all of the red flags and ended up in a relationship with a bully- a narcissist who also became physically violent, regularly, from about 12 months in. The verbal stuff started about 6 months in. It took me till 2012 to get out of that house and that relationship. London is an expensive place and I just didn't have enough money for a month's rent in advance plus a deposit...then I got a particular job, which I say saved my life, as her violence had continued to get worse, as my first pay packet enabled me to move and rent a room in a woman's flat- even if it did take all of my pay!

I escaped that relationship largely unscathed- or so I thought, anyway. Until about a year later, having moved back up north six months after leaving her- due to my landlady turning the flat into a Chinese warehouse (that's another story!), when I had, what I later realised, was a panic attack in the middle of Home Sense in The Arndale. 

I had a lot of interest from women but I preferred to be alone for a while. I have never been one of those who have to be with someone as lovely as it is when you are with someone who truly cares. Later, I began a relationship with a friend (we had shared a kiss a few years earlier but neither of us thought the other was interested- again women and not wanting to speak up. That is another story) and by this time it was a long distance relationship due to her still being in London and then moving back to Ireland, due to her long term illness. It didn't last long as due to her debilitating illness and disability, she didn't feel she could commit to a relationship now that she couldn't really travel any more. It's all good though, after a brief fall out because she chose to email me instead of speaking to me when I had only just come back from spending a week with her, we are friends these days, once again. After this, I chose to have another break from women and dating. Then I ''saw'' someone for a few months but it was never proper, before beginning on the dating apps and meeting a myriad of strange (not in a good way) women, including one who was a scary stalker.. The whole of that year was like a comedy show. Some of the things that I could write here (another time!) would make you wonder if it was fiction! Trust me, it's all true and for an actor and a creative, it's excellent material! Dating has never been easy, of course it hasn't. I'm sure that many would agree. And now I find myself in another difficult situation, and for once in my life I am following my heart and allowing it to guide me on my next journey to happiness and contentment. I am putting myself first. So yeah, Marlene, I am afraid that I do disagree. We all have a right to experience happiness, for as long as it lasts, which we all hope will be forever. 

So there you have it. Not as light-hearted as usual, but I hope just as intriguing! 

Love a Real Northern Hermia x

A Midsummer Letch!

 A few days back I thought that I would pop for a breather among the grass and trees. Just soak in a bit of peace among the chaos of moving house. I was looking forward to listening to the birds (the feathered kind by the way) in the sunshine. Could I do that? No. Enter Mr Letch. ‘’Hello darling. Hello? Hello? Are you here to see me?’’, Letchy repeated over and over. I nearly left the little park, but then I thought, no, why should I? I opened my mouth and asked him to leave me alone. I do get absolutely sick of letchy men! And before some of you say, ‘not every man’, of course not every man but in normal pre pandemic times, there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t endured, letchy harassment and my female identifying friends say the same. I cannot remember a time that I haven’t experienced anxiety while walking home after dark, wherever I was living at the time. We, as women, were and are preconditioned to almost accept that we are not safe walking around alone, from being young girls and teenagers. I don’t know a single woman who doesn’t hold their keys in their knuckles while walking home in the evening. Even at 4pm in winter! We are over half of the population, and yet this has and is allowed to continue.

I have been kerb crawled, followed, surrounded by groups of men while walking to my bus stop at 5pm, had my boobs grabbed by randoms who just think that it is their right. I have been sexually assaulted by someone in a position of power when I was 20. I have even been beaten up and left with a broken nose because I wasn’t interested in accepting a man’s advances. A man who I would find sitting on my bed in the shared house that I was living in at the time. A man who would just walk into my room, a man who would not stop trying to touch me wherever in the house we happened to be. The latter did go to court, and I found out from someone else that a colleague of his had ripped this man’s beard off because they were sick of his lecherous ways towards their female colleagues. I have to admit to being slightly pleased about that news. Violence isn’t right, but this man had been getting away with horrendous behaviour for too long. I was 22.  And this is just a short list of what I have experienced. Anyway, I digress. Why was this allowed to happen in the first place? Why are we as a society allowing this to continue?

So there you have it. A serious blog from me this time. Hope you won’t bee too disappointed that I haven’t written in my usual tongue in cheek style!  Right, I am off to get some quotes from removal companies, and yes, I am still surrounded by boxes. How is it that two women without children, have so much stuff?!

Until next time,

A Real Northern Hermia x

It's One Big Trip, Maaaaan!

I’m so physically exhausted with house sorting ready to move that you would have thought that my brain would be too exhausted to dream, but no!

Last night’s dream involved puppies (a sandy coloured female and two black and white, in case you are interested) and a round light which looked like my ring light, but wasn’t, flashing every time the house phone rang. Asda had taken over from EE and the Wi-Fi signal boosters were no longer going to be offered but customers still had to pay the same rate. Anyway, I digress.  I seemed to be living at my parent’s (family home) but not as I know it, and spent a lot of time in the bathroom cleaning the tiny puppies. Apparently I was working as some kind of dog sitter. My current partner was with me helping to clean them. Although she seemed to think that Timotei shampoo was appropriate?? Ha ha (in reality she is a huge dog lover by the way so would never do this). I seemed to be my adult self, but my adult brother had reverted to his teenage self and had a knack for walking into the bathroom without knocking. Apparently, Mum had gone out to a union meeting and now some aliens had invaded the picket line! I mean seriously, where does my brain go?!

Is it just me or have people become moanier lately? Or maybe I am being moany myself, moaning about them being moany?! Honestly, people trying to help those who may need it, and others outside of the equation, moaning. Well as one of my favourite roles, Lisa, in Up the Bunting, would say, ‘’let it go. Let it go’’!

As I type this, for some reason I have the song, ‘’Happy’’, spinning around my mind. I haven’t listened to it or heard it for a long time. Physically, you’ll still find me under packing boxes, but as for my brain, I couldn’t tell you!

Until next time!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia. x

P.S. Just in case you were wondering, yes, I did make that gluten free fried chicken! :) 

Here is my gluten free fried chicken! :) 

How my dream seemed!

Dizzy Lizzy Lets Get Busy!

How’s your week going?

We are only half way through,
and so far I have spent 12 hours going to and from West Kirby- thanks to Northern Rail and the Metro. I mean you can travel to Hong Kong in less time! What a gorgeous place though. Fell totally in love and it’s always a pleasure to visit Kate for a headshot session. On my travels, I wished for sun, and sun we were granted! Now let’s hope that marks the end of ‘Mayvember’!

I have also fallen flat onto my face while trying to open the bedroom window, almost on my bum while getting dressed doh, and... I can’t remember if I told you, but a couple of months ago, I reprised my training to be a real life Celebrant and last night marked the penultimate session which is really exciting! It is basically art meets life in my case. Ha. It will be my absolute pleasure to work with families and give them the funeral service that they want. So if anyone out there would like me to perform their service- funerals, baby naming, memorials, family services etc, you know where to come!

 A good few years back, My Dad mentioned that I would be a good Celebrant. I loved the idea and then forgot as I got busy again in the acting world. Then I was cast in Corrie in a recurring role as Hazel, the Celebrant, and my Dad’s idea popped back into my head. I have performed baby naming, weddings and a ‘comedy’ funeral so far. I love my Corrie family, but then Corona revealed her ugly head and it meant that large scenes weren’t possible for filming. I have really missed going in and working with friends.

Right, I need to get back to my juggling balls now- play reading, script writing, project prepping, baby dinosaurs... Etc. And if you can’t find me I will be under a pile of packing boxes! House moving is imminent….

See you soon!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia x

Hectic Fever Diva!

 
Well we are still unsure as to where and when we are moving to, and I can confirm that the grass definitely isn’t greener in ‘limbo land’!

Oh, by the way, I am no longer ‘’just’’ an actor, presenter and voice-over artist, but I am a hair colourist too. Ha ha. I have wanted a balayage for a long time and spoke to my hairdresser about it. I booked a date to have my new headshots taken (more about that in a bit), but my hairdresser is now away for a while, so I took a deep breath and taking matters into my own hands, within a few hours, I had transformed my hair. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but after researching, I think that I managed to ‘paint’ (this is how the technique is described) my hair quite well. I’ll pop a photo lower down.

Have you watched the Davina McCall documentary called Sex, Myths and the Menopause? It’s about time that women’s health was thrust into the spotlight. I don’t know about you, but I know of so many people who have suffered after being brushed off by doctors, told that they have to go private if they want to be referred to a specialist clinic (you do NOT ..It even says this under the NICE guidelines, along with not giving out anti-depressants to treat peri and menopause symptoms as a first resort). I’ve always said that if these side effects were experienced by cis-gendered men, there would be a cure at every petrol station! I’m not at that point yet, but I always keep an eye on such things as friends are struggling and also, forewarned is forearmed as they say. However, I feel like my hormones have always ruled my life (and have been fobbed off and told it’s ‘women’s problems’, growing up). This leads me on to hectic fever diva!

As I was saying before, I booked to have my new set of actor headshots taken next week. The reason for it being next week is because this should be before we need to pack and move house, and also it should have been the week or so after my period. However, I am already a week late (before you ask, there hasn’t been an immaculate pregnancy), and last week, I was so exhausted, sickly and dizzy. Hormones are now causing hectic fever (hot and cold), hot flushes, and I am very emotional (I’d probably cry at a walkers’s crisps ad right now), cranky and worn out. Once it starts, my skin goes grey, acne thinks it’s my best mate, and my hair tends to look like it belongs on one of those long sticks at the fair (no, cheeky, not a scarecrow. Then again, maybe I could be the new Worzel Gummidge…). Still, at least I know what my new ‘casting type’ will be! Now where are all those roles for a tired, cranky, emotional, irrational, candy floss woman? Hit me up!

That’s it for now!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia x

P.S Here is a photo of my balayage.

Hustle Bustle, Duracell Bunny!

'Every day I'm hustling.. (insert music) ' Yes, this is me, the Duracell Bunny, a nickname given to me by one of my best friends because, in more normal times, I run around doing a million and one things, attending countless events on top of work, while making time for friends and family. Last week I had the taste of my ‘’old life’’ back again. A crazily busy week and it was brilliant. Albeit tiring! Usually I can cope with the hustle, bustle and the juggling. Last week by Saturday, I felt like one of the zombies in Shaun of the Dead. I think it’s the trying to move house which tipped my balance. We’d seen 6 places on the Wednesday and on the Saturday, we saw another three, then I had to go to the chemist and then we’d arranged to see some friends. I felt like I was falling asleep in my seat. Our friends are not boring, may I add, but I guess that this pandemic has sucked some of my Duracell energy out of me. I need to become a rechargeable pack!  BUT that must be the light flickering at the end of the tunnel now. Surely?! I can hear it saying..well, it's more of a whisper but it's definitely there, ‘come on, we can do it..we are almost there’!

It’s midweek. And not just any old Wednesday, today has started off very interesting…in most jobs, if you got asked to engage people while making dinosaur noises, you’d probably laugh and think it was a joke.. Ha ha. But an actor says, ‘Oh yes, sounds great. Where, when and how much is the budget?’
Hashtag An actor’s life!

Have a good week!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia! x

A Real Northern Hermia, Keeping up the Spunkiness!

Well here we are, my first ever blog! I'm not sure if this will work out, but I thought someone somewhere may be interested in hearing about a real Hermia..yes, I do mean from A Midsummer Night's Dream.. Myself and a friend who is also petite and the same height as myself, have always used the slogan for our work..'though she be but little she is fierce'..so this is me, a Northern woman living in the North West, juggling various jobs, responsibilties and trying to push her career forward, while keeping up with her spunkiness. 

Recently I heard of a callout for stories about being abused by someone in a position of power, in my industry..I wrestled with this..I was 20 when someone took advantage of me, and though I had told some people over the years, and spoke about it publically when the #metoo movement kicked off, I hadn't fully revisited that ''event'' since. By revisited, I mean every single detail, the day, the time, and exactly what he did, the fact he encroached on my work two days later, coming into a room, via the only exit out of that room, and begging me not to tell the police. It took me two weeks to prepare myself, and though I had, by this time, missed the deadline, I emailed every single detail over to the organisation. I felt fine and ready to do this, but afterwards, I was sort of floating, a bit like an outer body experience? I was chuffed that I had done it, but I felt..I don't know..weird...not like myself. I guess, I could prepare myself as much as I wanted, but that writing each little detail out wasn't as ''easy'' as telling what the short version had become. That version had 20 years to get used to itself. But it's done, I offered to voice my own ''story'' too, and I have allowed myself to be proud of me. 

Love,

a Real Northern Hermia