The power of attitude and the ignorance of youth

I stumbled across a bunch of old photos when I was organising my house a few months ago. Out of all the hundreds (if not thousands) of photos spanning four decades, the ones that struck me the most were those taken in London - where I lived from 1992 to 1994. Such attitude.

I was 21 years young when I booked a one-way flight to the capital of our mother country, much to the distress of my parents. It was an impulsive decision made in attempt to escape my circumstances at the time (which I don't want to get into at this stage).

I had gone to a travel agent one morning to make an enquiry, and had the ticket booked and paid for by that afternoon.

When I returned home to inform my parents of my impending departure, their concerns for me were obvious. "What are you going to do when you get there? Where are you going to live? How will you find a job?" "Isn't this a little too sudden?" "Are you prepared?" were some of the many questions fired at me.

My answers were plain and simple. "I'll get there and make it up as I go. I'll find a place to live. I'll get myself a job. I'll work it out."

Within two weeks of that conversation, I was off.

I arrived in London after having spent a fortnight in Los Angeles with my gorgeous friend Gabriella, who was studying acting in Hollywood. We had an amazing time in sunny California, which was a stark contrast to what I faced in the UK - a place and population that was cold, miserable and overly grey.

I HATED being there and invested in many tearful ISD telephone conversations with Gabri, postulating ways I could return to LA without a green card or money for an airfare. I went so far as to drink a gazillion Diet Cokes per day in order to win a trip to La-La land, but to no avail. Gabri assured me that I would fall in love with London as she had done years before.

She was right. I did fall in love.

It all began on a sunny spring day when I found a room advertised in the 'Loot' for £50 a week (all inclusive - bargain!). I turned into Waller Road in London's South East, hopeful that this might be the place I'd be calling home. I was greeted by the funkiest music my Top 40 ears had ever heard and the cheerful face of DJ-in-the-making Alan, one of the six students that occupied the quintessential London terraced house.

After a brief tour, I became the seventh roommate and my world would completely transform. It was a turning point in my life, one that has carved me into the interesting albeit quirky person I am today. If it weren't for my 'I'll be alright' attitude that partnered my youthful ignorance, I'd have never had the courage to purchase that one-way ticket in the first instance.

Yes it was all a little too sudden, and no I wasn't all that well prepared... but I did find a place to live, I got myself a job and found lots to do. I made it up as I went along and I worked things out.

Nineteen years later I find myself reflecting on the person I was back then. I'd like to borrow some of that youthful ignorance and attitude to get me through a sticking point right now. Is that appropriate or is it like a mother borrowing her young daughter's jeans? I guess it depends on the jeans. Hmm.... perhaps that's another blog post.

Until tomorrow, let the power of attitude and ignorance work for you now as it did back you know when.

Grace xx

PS. I still love London and the amazing people I met there. It'll always remain as a sacred place in my heart for all the personal growth that occurred there. If I were a butterfly, London was my chrysalis.

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Smoke and Mirrors

I think I speak on behalf of most human beings when I say "When we are young, we are most impressionable".

We are, aren't we?

We're eager to light up so we can be as cool and sophisticated as those older than us, despite our initial response being cough, cough, splatter, "yuck!"

We spend hours in front of the mirror with ten different hair products aiming to replicate that impossibly stylish look that is sported by our teen screen idols -not to mention applying layers of make up to hide our blemishes and mask who we really are.

We turn to methods of pulling hairs out by their roots in order to have smooth silky skin for longer, despite the excruciating pain we endure to achieve such carnal beauty. To top it all off we mask our natural youthful aromas by spraying an assortment of scents, everything from cheap all over body deodorants to expensive French perfumes.

If you're lucky, there'll come a time when you meet someone who changes your way of thinking - forever. Such a time occurred in 1992 when I shared a house with six fresh-faced Londoners in the south east borough of Lewisham.

I met a young lad named Alan (pictured) who turned my attention to natural beauty. I was astounded to learn that he did not care for the overwhelming pungency of perfume no matter how expensive it was. He was not repulsed by female bodily hair and he preferred women without make up and overdone hairstyles. Wow.

Having shared the same abode with Alan for some time, I began to relax in my body and feel confident to walk out the door sans make up and avec a few strands of rogue hair. I was no longer ashamed of being natural.

In case you're wondering, Alan and I shared a purely platonic friendship despite the fact that I thought he was rather dishy at the time.

So for those of you who are inspired by the fact that I'm comfortable in my own skin, you now know how I reached that point. And for that, I thank Mr. Alan.

Until tomorrow, give thanks to those who have changed your life for the better.

Grace xx

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