A Light in the Dark

Being stuck inside can suck. Everybody seems to at least agree on that one point right now, but I know that some people have it worse than most. This is an open letter to those not just stuck inside, but trapped inside with abusive assholes.

I wanna start by staying you have not only all of my sympathy, but my utmost respect, too. I’m so sorry this has happened to you.

I’ve spoken here a thousand times before about my own abusive upbringing, so I know a little of what it’s like. Though, of course, no situation is exactly the same and I’m not trying to pretend otherwise. I had it bad, but I know a lot of people had it a lot worse.

That’s not important. Abuse is abuse and there’s no point trying to compare it all to say what kinds deserve more sympathy or help than others. As some else once said, you can drown in a puddle just as well as a lake.

It can sound like a weird sentiment, but don’t feel guilty for being upset at your situation just because you know it could, technically, be worse. What you need right now is to focus on the positives.

Ha! You might be thinking. What positives? 

Granted, it’s much easier said than done and there really might be very little hope for you right now. Again, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to diminish your suffering, I want to help in some small way to get you through this.

So, positive: if you’re reading this, it must mean you have access to the internet. You’ll need to cling to that. As a mental escape. A link to the outside world. And/or a way to contact the authorities if you feel your life is in danger.

If your actions are being monitored, remember to delete your browsing history when you’re done looking at websites.

If your life is not in active danger but you’re being gaslit at every turn, criticised beyond what you can handle, or being made to feel like you’re unwanted, in the way, or being exploited in some way while you can’t get out, here’s the big thing you need to realise right now: sooner or later, this will end. Quarantine will come to a close and you will be able to get out.

You will. You just need to get to that point. Keep it in your sights. Hold tight to it.

Do not give up!

The whole ‘this too shall pass’ thing is kinda trite at this point, but that doesn’t make it any less true. It may take a week, a month, or – god forbid – a year or more, but the situation will change. You will get your chance at freedom.

You deserve freedom and happiness. You deserve to feel safe and loved and all the good this world has to offer. Because this world still does have good in it. I know it may not feel like it right now, because it’s being kept from you, but great things are possible for you. Your situation now will not be your situation forever.

You need to keep hanging on. There will be daylight again.

Letter to my Body

Dear Body,

We have a lot to talk about, you and I. I barely know where to begin, but I think it’s fair to say that this won’t be the last letter I write you. Call this an introduction then, if you will.

I suppose we should address the elephant in the room: I didn’t like you for the longest time. It would have actually been fair to say that I hated you.

I’m sorry about that.

The thing is, I simply didn’t understand you and had been told a lot of lies about what you were like without taking the time to find out for myself. Growing up wasn’t easy on either of us – I don’t rightly think it’s easy on anyone – but it seems we’ve had more difficulties than most.

I know now that I’m not lazy and ugly, but I believed that for the longest time. I’d been so convinced I was grossly overweight to the point that I thought trying to do anything about it was pointless, and that led me to developing habits that led to weight gain! Self-fulfilling prophecy much?!

For a lot of years, I’ve felt broken and wrong. Maybe the broken part is true, but – KEY THING HERE – it’s not our fault!

Body, you are disabled. Literally, you have syndromes and disorders that stop you being able to do certain things. That’s annoying, but it’s not a personal failing.

Like I said, there’s a lot to unpack here. This is only me scratching the surface. Just know that I’m going to listen to you more, and I’m going to be nicer to you.

– Love, Ellie

A Love Letter to Lincoln

For Culture Night Belfast this year, the theme was love. Women Aloud NI had two events in the programme. At the one I read at, each of the readers was given a letter and told to write a love letter to it. I got the letter L, and this is what I made of it:

Lincoln, Lincolnshire, England: the place I lived for three years in my late teens/early twenties.

When I thought about what I wanted to write about for this love letter, there were a lot of options, but I think a part of me will always come back to Lincoln.

While at university there, I learned a lot – a lot of it the hard way and absolutely none of it to do with the actual subject I was supposed to be studying.

I fell in love with the city before I had even visited, having poured over guidebooks, maps, and watched a ton of tourism videos. Then, when I did get to see the place in person, for an open day, I knew it was all going to go well from the moment I slipped on some wet leaves while walking down the big hill and ended up with brown sludge smeared all over my backside for the rest of the day as I met other prospective students as well as my future lecturers.

It was all uphill from there. Then downhill for a bit, then uphill again, before finally going up in flames. Which is to say, my experience in those three years was… mixed.  Continue reading