I don’t know about you, but I’ve never really been one to have, ‘a people’. You know the group you met in Primary school and bonded over Take That and Milk Maid ice lollies? The same group who went to the same high school as you, where you strengthened your bond over bunking lessons and walking to the chip shop to lunch when the canteen pitta pizzas just weren’t going to cut it? And that group who followed you through college, uni, break ups, career pivots and finding your first chin hair.
Yeah, I don’t have that.
What I do have is ‘a people’ I’ve collected along the way.
‘A people’ I met at uni 10 years ago where we bonded over being ‘mature’ students but the only mature thing about us was that we preferred Mojitos in Twickenham as opposed to sicking up shots in the SU. But who truly got just how grumpy I was having to listen to Tweedledee and Dum ask how to add 9 and 12 when they were training to be teachers.
Who coined my ‘Meldrew’ nickname. Who knew not to bother asking if I wanted to crash in halls when I had a perfectly comfy bed at home. And who stood by me when my Mum was rushed to hospital, I broke up with an ex and became possibly the worst NQT (newly qualified teacher) ever.
These are ‘a people’ who I’ve seen get married, have babies and still have time to listen to my latest life change.
I have ‘a people’ I met in my second teaching job who ‘got’ my odd sense of humour, welcomed me into, ‘the gang’, laughed when I was on a wind up in staff meetings and closed the door to their classrooms when I needed a cry about my unfaithful ex.
These are ‘a people’ who I first told about my secret blog hobby, who were excited and never judged. They are ‘a people’ who I take to blog events, who check in on me if I’ve posted something sad on Insta Stories and who I can demolish a bag of Chilli Heatwave with in about 4 seconds flat.
And I also have ‘a people’ through blogging. You’re one of them! Who’ve supported me from the days of writing about jeans and public transport, to the dark, dark dating days and to now – where I share my mental health journey and my road to loving myself.
You’re the one who doesn’t care that I mostly bang on about blogging now, instead of how many guys I’ve gone on a date with in one day (record, 3, HOLLAAA).
You’re the one who comments, ‘YASSS QWEEN’ under each of my Instagram posts. And who sends me a love heart whenever I miss my parents. You were there through grief, heartache, fuckboys, finding love, depression, social anxiety, Las Vegas trips, getting engaged and starting a business. And you’ll be the one that sticks with me, whatever life brings next.
Because you’re my people. And if you’re reading this with any amount of dislike, judgement or ill-feeling – that’s OK. I am not for you. Tastes change. People become ‘not your people’. It’s hard but you move on.
The most important thing though is, that you never forget who your people are. You don’t neglect the OGs because you want more or the grass is greener. You nurture those who are yours and they’ll forever be yours.
That’s a lesson I’ve had to learn recently. That every unfollow, unsubscribe, unfriending or unfriendly comment is actually all ok. Not that it’s OK to be mean about people, but that it’s OK to have people who are not YOUR people. For every person who you lose along the way, make sure that you say thank you to those you have kept.
And I said thank you to my blogger gals. They came over for a ‘Galentines’ style shindig where we got in our comfiest PJs, shared cups of hot chocolate, did each other’s nails and gossiped over EVERYTHING.
They are my people. Who are yours? Send them this post!
This post was written in collaboration with Yes Studio Designs. They gifted me all of these goodies to share with ‘my people’ and the girls couldn’t have been more thrilled with their pressies. Make sure you go and have a look at their collection here. Follow them on Instagram here. AND when you realise you need to give ‘your people’ a treat, you can use my code, ‘VIX15OFF’ to get them something lovely.
Which bits will you be picking up this Galentines?
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