Wow, what a lovely Easter weekend I had with The Rents oop norf.
One of the things I notice most when I am at The Rents is how comfortable I am with my speech. I don’t worry about making faux pas with my pronunciation, which means I make plenty... usually followed by giggling corrections from either Ma or Pa.
This weekend I got ethereal and Godalming wrong, giving both equal syllables...
I have been saying both of these words for years, but no one has ever corrected me, but then when in unfamiliar company, I do tend to simplify my vocabulary to prevent this kind of thing happening around people who might be quick to judge me.
Anyway, apart from having a lovely time with Ma, Pa, Gma and Nottnum Uncle, I also read an entire book in the sunshine – it’s called Chances by Freya North, who is one of my favourite authors.
During my 20s, she wrote about 20-somethings in London, and in this book, she wrote about a 30-something who lived alone and eventually did manage to wade through the sea of men who didn’t value her and find one who did.
Freya North books are Happy Ever Afters, that’s for sure. They restore your faith in human nature, in that childhood belief that everything is going to be OK. That doesn’t mean that bad things don’t happen in her books, and she truthfully portrays pain, loss, anger and all the rest of it, but she does put gentle reminders in that there are happy endings out there.
Recently, I had come to doubt this. I had come to doubt whether anybody would actually like me for me. I don’t expect a love life like a Freya North novel, although it would be nice, but I do kind of expect a Happy Ever After, kind of because, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have that.
But who decides who gets Happy Ever Afters? Is it the person themselves? The person who takes the leap of faith and makes the decision to love the other person faults and all? Some completely different factor such as fate?
Why is it that some people so effortlessly find their happy ever afters, some people never do, some people pursue something in the hope it could be a Happy Ever After, and some people can tell a failed happy ever after from 50 paces and so never try? And who is right here?
It was these kind of questions that were hurtling through my mind yesterday as I settled down to read Chances. And it was during my perusing that the answer kept coming back to me. It is about chances – taking chances, chance meetings, chance occurrences, a game of chance. When you throw ever kind of chance in a big pot, that’s what makes tragedy, comedy, and of course romance.
So with this in mind, I will just have to accept that there’s a chance I may fall in love and a chance that person may fall in love back, there’s a chance we will have a happy ever after and chance we may not. But running alongside that is my power to take chances, to help my Happy Ever After and help prevent my tragedy.
Some things are out of my power. I cannot control people’s emotions, I cannot make people fall in love with me. But I can be me, Deafinitely Girly, lover of all things pink and chocolate, a ditzy, mispronouncing blonde girl who whirlwinds through life in my own unique way...
And I hope that if I continue to remember that my Happy Ever After is 50% my set of chances, then there is hope.
Which also reminds me... Happy Ever Afters are not just finding that person, they are not just about falling in love. I mean you can do both of those things and be thoroughly miserable. They are about finding who you are and being as true to that as possible.
That is what I intend to do, and if I find a like-minded person who would like to keep me company then great, and if not? Well, I keep taking chances and write my own happy ever after...
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