Category Archives: Predicaments

“I don’t always write the way I feel. Sometimes they are just residual feelings that show up again due to lack of closure.”


When I write, I don’t always mean the now. No writer always writes in the now, even if what they’re talking about could be happening in the now – some parts connect to the past and things they remember and stuff they wanted to say back then.  I don’t write always in the now. I write of the past, of things I remember and work through, seeing my past in a new light and coming to a new conclusion, a new lesson. Sometimes things link up, past and present BANG inspiration strikes.

My hurt is my hurt. And I can use it when and where I see fit.

I may write flowery word and speak about boys, but that doesn’t mean I’m talking about the High School Boy, because it’s been nearly three years and I’ve been with other people, I know this might be hard to understand, because I don’t have it strewn across social media the same way my clothes are across my bedroom floor. 
But I have. And I’ve loved every minute, because each time it taught me something, even if it wasn’t in an outlandish ‘coming-of-age’ style, it still mattered. Because it mattered to me, I experienced it. Me and me alone, not you who thinks you know my life from tweets you read when I don’t even know you.
I’m tired of talking of what I want and people attempting to figure out what I’m saying, decoding my words like they’re cryptic egyptian symbols, when really I met someone today and I started thinking about how he could stop the cynic in me. How he smiles down at the ground and I like that, the way he thinks before he speaks and measures out his words, and isn’t that enough? Does it have to be more? Can’t I just write about that?
And when I talk about this, I don’t mean that High School Boy I haven’t spoken to in so long, who I don’t want to speak to, because life moves on and don’t you understand that? How people move on, how life travels fast, how girls aren’t always hung up on their ex? What a vicious stereotype, to think girls are clingy on their first love, when boys snapchat you after six months talking about ‘no work tomorrow’ and frankly, what am I to do with that? Why should I care?
It’s the same way people harp about Taylor Swift and her break ups, or Malia Obama playing beer pong in college. I don’t care I don’t care, don’t you get that?

I hate being petty, my drafts on Twitter are filled with some tweets that will never surface, because anger is a moment and I don’t want to immortalise it for the world to see. But that doesn’t mean I don’t tire; tire of strangers attempting to find symbols in the words I write and feelings that aren’t present, because my hurt is in my past and they’re both mine, so I can write about and whenever I please.  You don’t control my hurt. It’s mine.
It may be easy to put things in boxes in your head, label them the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’. I get life can be difficult, I have nearly 21 years and experiences many haven’t been through, stuff I don’t want you to go through, so I get it. But at the end of the day, most of life is grey. You don’t really know everything – especially of those who don’t know you, who only know you exist because you tried to start drama, you tried to wiggle in between their words and into their brains, but didn’t you know at the time you were going the wrong way?

Please know that while I write this – I am not angry. Not at all. I’m simply passionate about this, because this quote on residue feelings and not writing in the now is what I’ve been wanting to say for so long. I fucking love that quote. I felt something shift inside me when I read it, because it’s it. Everything I have been wanting to say. To explain how I write. 


Anne Lamott has a famous quote on writing, saying

You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should’ve behaved better.”

I love this because you need to remember as a writer to be free with what you say. Never to worry about the implications, until your wrists ache and the words stare back at you. Then you figure the  rest out. 
But sometimes, both people behave badly – the writer and the writers inspiration. Both parties can be equally guilty. And the stories you read will always be biased. But just because you might upset people doesn’t mean you shouldn’t write about it. Nor should you hold your tongue around a writer in fear of what words they might say; we are still human, we’ll still fuck up. We just own that fuck up. I read a book called Becoming by Laura Jane Williams and it.is.everything. I’ve mentioned Laura’s downright amazing book before, but it’s worth mentioning again. This whole ‘claim your hurt’ thing? started with Becoming and will be right up your street.

“I don’t always write the way I feel. Sometimes they are just residual feelings that show up again due to lack of closure.”


Own your hurt. It’s yours and yours alone. No one gets to tell you how to talk about it, no one gets to be the person who gives you permission to talk about your hurt. It’s yours. ONLY yours.
Own your hurt and talk about it if you want. Talk about it for you. 
Just remember to be doing it for you.

Lou x

Want to send an email? Contact louisenicoleramsay@gmail.com
Twitter; @LouiseRamsay_ click here 
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Hey whats up hellllooo


It’s been quiet on my slice of the Internet, hasn’t it? While I’ve missed writing (omg SO much) I won’t exactly make an apology. Why?

I’ve taken time a way from creating content at #Predicaments because I’ve felt uninspired, lacklustre and downright OFF. While I’d love to put some blame on Saturn being in retrograde (planets do that and it *can* affect us. Weird right?), I’m happy to say it’s mainly me and my darling brain. But like, some of Saturn’s too.

I don’t think one should ever put content out there when they’re uninspired. It shows up as unnatural, I feel uncomfortable reading a thing I know someone spent writing as they grinded their teeth together, late at night, swearing how the images JUST WON’T CONTRAST RIGHT. We all understand the need to pay bills and put ‘your best food forward’ yet, I’m not doing this to pay bills or build a business. I’m doing this for a joy, a sense of accomplishment, to see my words out there and people deciding if they like it or not. Letting me know they like it… or not.

I LOVED how many of you let me know what you thought of the red dress, those of whom bought it you made my day! It’s so cool to think someone somewhere saw my post and it inspired them to buy the dress. It’s like we’re a little group huddling together, swapping favourite bargain clothes but also chatting away on social issues, how we feel. I adore that people come here for some escapism, like I do with so many blogs.

The time I’ve taken away from the blog was just to get my mindset back to what’s important. I’ve been neglecting stuff I need to sort out and become more organised with my life. You know those lulls of creative lacking? I’m suffering from that more than FOMO over those sunny beach Instagrams.

So I’m writing this to tell you that It’s Ok To Take A Break.

The Internet loves to tell you “treat yourself like you would yourself!” “more self love!” “eat that ice cream girl!” or “do what makes YOU happy, not anyone else!!”
And that’s great, because self care and self love comes in all shapes and sizes, just like we do as human beings. But I don’t like how quickly problems are fought to be solved. Like we’re wasting our time trying to figure out why we’re feeling a certain way, just what is causing it and how can we fix it?
It’s like we can’t have time to ride the wave because everyone else is giving their 5 cents.

Because we have this vast space to connect with any and everyone, we let a lot of people into *our* space without knowing exactly how harmful they can be. For a few months now I’ve been suffering from TMP, also known as Too Much Positivity. That’s when calls for “positivity only plz” start to drown out the “okay but wait a minute” voices. It’s as if we’re holding the tools to become more socially and economically aware, but there are articles on Justin Bieber quitting Instagram (I don’t care? Does anyone?) to inspiring quotes, which are really just some words put in quotations that aren’t really that deep.
It’s all too easy for us to write a funny sarcastic tweet on just how shit 2016 has been, or how Kylie Jenner dropped a bomber on us about -realising things- but the political makeup of the world is changing dramatically (I still hate Brexit and Boris) and we’ve lost so many to shootings in these 8 months alone. I sometimes can’t sleep because I’m so worried about the future of me, of us as a race and then I’m bombarded with tweets or Instagrams of happy quotes. Finding those who express their sadness, their fears to be swept under a mountain of gooey ‘positivity’ when really, stuff can be shit. And stuff can’t be solved in a pint of ice cream or a hot bath. I still wake up in  a world where so   much happens and people won’t listen to others because “Positivity Only please!!”I could be ‘caller out’ as bitter, when really I might be raining on someone’s parade for an hour.

I understand in a time of your life when things feel dark, demanding positivity as important is something as important as your mental wellbeing. However, I cannot let myself drown in Positivity just because an Instagram account posts Motivational Quotes! every three hours. Just like you can lose yourself in darkness, you can submerge yourself too deeply in positivity. I got to a point I feared making mistakes, because I wouldn’t be doing the ‘right’ thing. The ‘good’ thing. I’d worry about expressing emotion and couldn’t listen to ‘negativity’ because if I did it would highlight how much I was ‘failing’ when that’s complete rubbish. Not being constantly ON doesn’t make one a failure. It means we’ve got to slow down and take a step back. Breaks are important. We have to remember to take them.



Too Much Positivity can leave you feeling like a “Professional Cynic”. If there was a job as Professor of cynicism, I would have it. These past few weeks have contested to that; sometimes seeing all of the Encouraging, Positive and #GIRLBOSS quotes wouldn’t do anything to me but scoff, transforming into Tracey Beaker with my mind in a constant state of “BOG OFF!” when presented with Etsy quotes.

Sometimes you just need a break to let yourself know it’s okay. It’s okay to take a step back. It’s okay to slow down for a while. It’s okay to be frustrated, even if being told it’s okay makes you want to scream. And it’s okay to be confused, because being confused isn’t being a failure, it’s just being confused. Stop being so hard on yourself. It’s not always you, because there’s 7.48 billion people on the planet and the Universe can’t focus on you all the time. Sometimes it’s a bad day. Feel it. Accept it. Then just, let it go.


I’m happy to be back writing, I hope you’re happy to see me on your homepage.

Lou x

Want to send an email? Contact louisenicoleramsay@gmail.com
Twitter; @LouiseRamsay_ click here 
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Emotions are tricky
things.


When I was in high school, I always thought of emotions as
solids. They remained as they were, standing tall and unmoving. Like happiness.
I grew up thinking happiness was a state of being that would remain with me.
Maybe you thought so to, growing up happily ever after.
Emotions are not solids but liquids, they’re fluid. They
move and change every day. We can’t hold onto an emotion, like happiness,
because we have to experience other emotions like anger or sadness, in order to
feel the value of happiness. The feeling of how lucky we feel a moment of complete undiluted happiness.
In order to explain my next train of thought, I have to tell
you I’ve been reading BECOMING by Laura Jane Williams. And with that, I confess
it’s been a while I’ve sat and read for long periods of time, but with Becoming I can’t stop reading. I have to
put it down every once in a while because I don’t want to stop reading it. It
feels precious, like every thought or
emotion I’ve had since having my heart broken at 16 matters. I didn’t think it mattered. Because I was
young. And then I felt it all again at 17 and 19, with the same boy, and it’s
still the same heartbreak over and over again.
The thing about Becoming, is that I was finally told
that being heartbroken mattered. That the period of healing mattered, and that it
isn’t always two weeks and a vodka swig away.
And as I write this I haven’t finished, because I need to
write everything I feel with this book because my lost is starting to feel a
lot like my own becoming. (You can get Becoming
here, on Amazon).
Emotions are fluid. They come and go. There’s nothing you
can grapple on to, it simply flows and flows through your hands. But it
matters. It all matters, even if this mattering only stays for a day, a week or
even an hour. If you believe it matters, then it does. That’s it.
I couldn’t stop laughing when I realised this, the tears
streamed down my face as I slowly went from cackles to quiet chuckles. It felt
like a moment, because it was a moment. It still is a moment.
All of this stuff
I carried with me suddenly became lighter, because it became of importance, of
value. Like, I was no longer even carrying this stuff. It was a piece of me,
like my bones and my heart, not a rucksack on my back.

I think we get caught
up in thinking we both do matter, and don’t matter. It terms of social media,
we want approval or to be seen through likes on a picture. And like, there’s
nothing shameful about it. But we feel this shame. We feel we have to make
ourselves smarter or cooler, when really we’re just existing like other people
are existing and that’s all there is to it.
 There’s work and
peoples lives and advertising, all penetrating our bubble but like. There’s
more than that. There’s sounding wank on the internet because everyone is a
cynic and looking out to make the first laugh, to get retweets and that’s
funny. It is, it is but also there’s talking. And being honest, being open,
having someone listen and reply to you. And you will sound wanky, even writing
this might strike you as wanky but everyone gets wanky. If you cut out the part
of you that goes on about it, you get to the other stuff. The deeper stuff. The
important life stuff.

I don’t mind sounding like a wank, I’m a writer so it goes
in the job description.  
Because that stuff, the stuff
that happens to you? That matters. It does. It comes together and it forms you,
moves parts of you like liquid, rearranges stuff to form this new version of
you. Don’t think it doesn’t matter because some people might not listen or
understand.

I think we all deserve to be told our feelings matter, our experiences.
It’s simply the degree in mattering that we should question. It should matter
to us, to the ones we love and who love us in return. But it may not matter to
others, to the strangers or acquaintances but that’s okay. As long as we
believe it matters, then it does.
I think having my heart broken so young, and then so
regularly by the same boy matters. It’s shaped me into who I am and how I see
myself. And since this heartbreak happened during high school (I’m 20) then to
a lot of people it didn’t matter. It was brushed under the carpet, even by me
because I got sick of hearing myself. I got sick of trying to work it all out
when I didn’t yet have the tools to understand.
So it’s Sunday and I’m in bed finishing off Becoming and I want you to read this as
a reminder; your experiences, emotions and thoughts matter. They do. You may
think they don’t, because at times the world (and the internet) can be a lonely
place. But you’ve got to remember to OWN your stuff. If you believe it matters,
OWN THE THING. Have confidence in it, because it’s important.

I am so glad I read this book, because I feel like I’ve
finally came to understand my heartbreak matters. I knew, deep down, how much
it had changed me. I was ashamed, because it was a high school romance two
years ago. But it was also my first love. The first time my life became entwined with someone else’s.  And I think
I no longer hold guilt talking about this, because it was my experience and
this is my space to talk about things I wish. I don’t have to want Him back to
talk about it, because I don’t.

I just want to work out my own Becoming.

All my love,

Lou x

Want to send an email? Contact louisenicoleramsay@gmail.com
Twitter; @LouiseRamsay_
Instagram; @LouRamsay_

Effort. It’s a word we see everyday, dressed up to look a
little bit different like do more or make it count, but the heart of it
stands. Make effort, everyday.
The past few years we’ve watched together the message of
effort be repeatedly said, dedicating how someone acts. Hyping us up to do a
piece of work the same one would for a marathon. Getting ‘in the zone’ to
concentrate, making the effort with
something. The important of fitness has grown as Nike tells us ‘just do it’.  Now it appears the whole of the Internet is
torn between the contrasting messages of ‘do the THING GO ON’ and ‘I must do
nothing, I am trash, Netflix and Chill’. So we feel we must do one or the
other, as these messages influence our daily lives. But with this ‘effort’ I’ve
started to see something else.
Lack of effort. The art of effortless occasions has become
obsolete. The idea of catching a few drinks after work, the conversation which
is fully participated in, watching a movie or hanging out without flicking
through a phone. It’s all just… gone.
The act of being, of making effort has slowly fallen.
And I’m one of these people who has fallen with it.
It’s time I recognised how badly I’m slacking on the
relationship department. It’s time to pull myself up, dust myself down and take
a stand. It’s time to be reborn.
Have you noticed this new phenomenon? Maybe a text has gone
unreplied, or you’re making the first move every time. Plans are made, but then
fall through the day before, maybe even a few short hours before. Conversations
are stilted over text, you worry and it all becomes a Thing before you have
time to talk face to face.
Making a phone call is no longer a welcomed occurrence, we’d
rather know when someone calls so we can set aside time for them. We’re
dividing our time, allotting certain minutes for friends and it just feels… too
much. Too controlled, too fake. When did it get like this? When did emojis take
over as our way to express emotion?
Making time is hard, but not making the time is
harder.
I put my hand up and say I’ve slacked with my relationships
and friendships. I’ve become so busy I have neglected them, and with that I say
Enough Is Enough. A friendship needs work, like all relationships do. If it’s
worth it, like you believe it to be, you make do with the work. Liking
Instagrams are great, but they don’t feel the same as a hug.
I keep telling
myself, it shouldn’t be difficult.
But sometimes it is. Sometimes you mess up and don’t see
your behaviour until months later. Sometimes you forget to text back, but
forgetting that third text back is like hammering a giant ‘I DON’T CARE’ into
your friendships coffin. Death by lack of effort, lack of care.
Everything feels easier in summer. It feels more laid back.
You feel more at ease, more comfortable. You feel like anything can happen,
like yes you make a coffee date with them and yes you won’t fall behind with
work. It will balance. You’ll be balanced, instead of feeling both overwhelmed
and lonely. You will have your friends, have love, have so many things coming
together you’ll forget why you thought about your life being a part.
You need to remind the ones you love that you love
them. Stop dismissing it as clichéd, because you’re making their day better by
sending a text. Suggest catching a drink and buy the first round. Talk. Laugh.
And wonder why you waited so long to reach out.
We can all feel lonely at times, we can feel frightened to
reach out, but there should be no fear between friends. You should feel
comfortable, because they love you the way your mother won’t. And that’s good. Because
there is a lot of different love in the world, but that doesn’t mean one love
is less than the other.
 I don’t want I feel like I’m frustrating you.
I don’t want to feel pathetic after we speak. That isn’t what friends are for.
That isn’t what friends are for.
I feel like I’m second guessing myself a lot this time, and
I don’t like it. I wrote about self love and being enough, because I am I am
but sometimes I step outside and I feel alone. I can love myself so much I
don’t need a partner, and I don’t.  I
haven’t felt drawn to need someone in a long time, that scares me but I need my
friends. No bullshit, no half hearted attempts. If we’re friends, then we
should work together to make sure we feel okay. There shouldn’t be bitchy
comments or feeling inferior.
The world is so big and so beyond touch, but your phone is
in reach so why not make that call? Why give up on something simple, because
you’ve decided before not to make the time, to choose your laptop or social
media like you have before?
The lack of effort is frightening. We are so wrapped up in
our lives we can forget the people in it, who make us who we are. Friends and
family are the most defining parts of our lives. Consistent effort is needed,
because you and I, we get lonely sometimes. We long for people who could be
miles away, or people we haven’t seen physically in months.
So make the effort. Make the phone call, talk and talk until
you suddenly realise it’s been over two hours. Feel good, feel lighter after
speaking to them. Wonder why it took you so long. Make plans to call every
other week.
Here’s the more effort, because yes you should do that thing
you want to do but you shouldn’t leave people behind. The key to being
effortless? That’s having people you can talk too, because they make everything
easier. Effortless.
Have a lovely Sunday,

Lou x

Want to send an email? Contact louisenicoleramsay@gmail.com
Twitter; @LouiseRamsay_
Instagram; @LouRamsay_