The Blemished Rose

As I’ve previously mentioned in posts, I’ve reignited my passion for the things I loved doing as a child, such as: writing poetry and songs, drawing, taking photos and dancing. Ballet was always my first passion and I started training at 4 years old. I’ve started doing more ballet recently for pure enjoyment and because it’s such a good form of physical exercise. As I’ve started remembering steps and things I learnt, I’ve also started remembering things I experienced in the dance world. I have fond memories of dance competitions I took part in and a memory of an adjudicator referring to me as “a budding little dancer.” It was when I got older that I experienced how cutthroat the theatre world really can be. A theatre performance can seem so glamorous with all the fancy costumes, dazzling smiles and dramatic lighting but the real drama often happens behind the scenes in a world that is so competitive. Performers can be so critical of one another, as well as themselves, and won’t hesitat...

About 4 years ago, I started taking self-portraits; I didn’t really know why I was taking them other than for enjoyment. I would usually take the photos when I was in a particular mood, for example if I was feeling very happy or a little sad. In the past couple of months I’ve realised the reason behind my self-portraits, I believe they are for therapeutic purposes. After having felt so ugly and worthless for many years, the photos have helped me improve my confidence and self-esteem. In some photos, I do ballet poses; I feel this has helped me connect even more with my inner child who loved ballet so much. I’ve not only developed a photographic journal but also a love and passion for photography and modelling. Photography was another hobby I enjoyed as a child but as I gradually gave up on life, I inevitably gave up on my creative skills too. I’ve been reflecting on my life and, although I’ve been successful in the things I’ve chosen to do, I also feel that so many years were wasted....

There are many issues I’ve had to work through, some of which I’m still challenged with today. I’ve found it useful if I can analyze why I feel certain emotions in different situations and the triggers that can cause my mood to change so quickly. In a previous post, I wrote about the fact that bathrooms are a huge trigger. To recap, as a child I’d frequently be on the toilet and the abuser would be outside the door trying to come in (my cousin would often be in the room with me, holding the door). Bathrooms have been a challenge but I’ve found a few ways to make it easier, such as: leaving the bathroom door open when at home or only using toilets I’ve used before and feel comfortable with. My biggest challenge has probably been here in China, where I live. The toilets here are often dirty, squat toilets and, in schools, they rarely have a door. I’ve visited many schools around China for my job and if I need to use the bathroom, I don’t know what to expect until I get there. A rece...

It’s the time of year when many families around the world come together, and celebrate in unison. It’s unfortunate that many of those families don’t unite in peace but instead, old family feuds are brought up and emotions intensify. I think that when most people think about Christmas, good or bad memories spring to mind. For some people it might bring them joy and peace when they think back to Christmas festivities. For others it might bring painful memories of suffering and miserable times. In my case, I have a mixture of both positive and negative memories. Although I experienced abuse as a child, I have to say that most of my childhood Christmas memories are good. I have fond memories of my Nan coming to stay with us every year, enjoying good food together and opening presents from under the tree on Christmas morning. There was only one Christmas spent in Italy, in the company of the abuser. Ironically, it’s been in adult life that I’ve had to live with stress and strong em...

Music has healing powers and can affect people in many ways. Oftentimes people associate songs with memories, whether they are good or bad. Sometimes a song’s lyrics can really have an impact on us and it might seem as though the song was written about a particular situation we have experienced. That’s how music connects us so much in the world. We’ve all been through different things in our lives but some of us have been through similar experiences and can empathise with one another. Music is an international language and such a great form of expression. I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember and I feel it’s really helped me in my healing process. Dance was my first way of expressing myself to music. As soon as I could walk, I would twirl around the house on my toes, and still do! I also have memories of me as a child, sitting on the swing in the garden, and making up songs. I remember how I used to imagine I was in a music video while doing it. It all progressed from there...

Friends will: be there for you in times of need pick you up when you fall, reply to messages you might send and sometimes give you a call. Make you smile when you’re feeling low, give you a helping hand listen to you, offer advice and pull your head from the sand. Friends won’t: forget you in your times of need, let you fall to the ground ignore the things you want to say and make you feel like you’ve drowned. Make you cry and feel at a loss selfishly turn their back, give you no time but heartache and pain that make you go off track Friends should be like a plank of wood sturdy, supportive and strong, make you feel good when you do things right and guide you when you are wrong.

I feel the need to post about this subject as it's something I frequently observe in life. People who have money often want more. Some people have so much money that they don't know what to do with it. Instead of investing in something worthwhile, they'll whittle it away on useless luxuries. What eventually happens is these people see only themselves and things that they want. They fail to see others in need.. A memory springs to mind: As I walk down the street appreciating the air I breathe and the nature around me, I suddenly see a ghastly sight. A woman walking briskly with a paper coffee cup in her hand, trailing behind her is a puny little man overloaded with shopping bags and his girlfriend's designer handbag. She tosses the paper cup in the gutter and tells him to hurry up as she has more shopping to do. Both of them are completely oblivious to everyone else around them, they are in their own little bubble. I've particularly observed scenes of this natu...