Flying the Nest

This weekend I take the plunge I've been planning for, and move into a lovely house in Rotherhithe (Central South East London for those who don't know). I don't know the people I'm living with - apart from the half hour I spent with them looking at the room - but they seem nice, relaxed and interesting. Unlike some of the more vapid people who's rooms I viewed previous to finding this one. The house is right on the river - with beautiful views west to the City, Tower Bridge and the Shard and east to the docklands and Canary Wharf. I have a balcony in my bedroom with the same view. Its in a lovely area with some great pubs, restaurants and shops.

Most importantly, its ridiculously close to work. Currently, from my family home in Higham, Kent I spend about three commuting a day. That's three hours where I'm not doing anything productive, three hours that make my day so long, and that make my evenings so short. My new house is a positively ridiculous half hour WALK from work, or a five minute overground journey, or a fifteen minutes bus journey. That's crazy. I'm going to get so much of my life back; every day I'll be able to spend time doing something I want to do. Like getting fit. Or writing. Or cooking. And no longer will I have to leave social events in the evening with the knowledge of an hour and a half or two hours before I'm home. I'm going to be independent, able to go out and date and not worry about bringing guys home!

So why do I suddenly feel really nervous, emotional and scared? I've been waiting for this moment since coming back from the US in December last year, and its only since getting a well paid job at Alzheimer's Society that I've been able to. Yet now, all I think as the weekend approaches is what if I've made the wrong choice? What if I hate London and want to be back in the countryside? What if I miss people?

I suppose it all feels a bit final. I've left home plenty of times already, but never with the knowledge that when I do, it'll no longer be my home. Of course, my parents will tell you that this place will always be my home and, in some ways, they're right. But it will no longer be the place I know I'm coming back to. For nearly 25 years I've lived in this village, I've grown up here, this is where I know. And now I'm moving into one of the biggest and busiest cities in the world. A city that people have described to me as an incredibly lonely city. 

Every night and weekend I have ready made people to spend time with. Yes, these may be my parents, but as someone who needs human company to be energised, I'll grasp at anything I get. Can I guarantee I'll get this in London? No. I love my family, and I will miss them greatly. I am incredibly grateful and utterly indebted to my parents for allowing me to stay here for as long as I have, and supporting me whilst I found the career I wanted. Without them, I'd never have had the chance to do everything I have done. And I will of course miss them. Lots. 

I suppose this is normal. Its a massive change and its pretty scary. Its the end of a 25 year period of my life. 

But its also the start of a new one. The chance to forge the independent life I've began so stutteringly before, to make new friends, to do everything I want to and to find myself a new neighbourhood. Its ok for me to be emotional (would I be anything other than this? It is me after all) but I know that I want to do it. And I am so excited about what it will bring. Now, to complete all my packing and shopping. Boring.

Returning to Employment in the Charity Sector

So, turns out I haven't written on this for almost 6 months. A long time. When I last wrote, I was still looking for work. Since then I've performed in a very successful play, broken my ankle, been in plaster for six weeks, claimed both Jobseeker's Allowance and Employment and Support Allowance, got dangerously close to spending all my savings, applied for a huge number of jobs and had a lot of interviews. I've put on weight, I've lost some of it, I joined a gym and I've left it already. I've travelled the country, taking in Devon, Pembrokeshire, York, Leeds, Manchester and Bristol. I've made new friends, said goodbye to wonderful ones, dated and met some lovely guys. I've written more of my novel and dallied with poetry. I've laughed, cried, loved and hated. 

I've also made my return to the world of the employed. For the past five weeks I have taken on a brand new role at Alzheimer's Society working in London. I'm doing everything I could have ever hoped for in an exciting role, that brings in all of my experiences in the past three years. I'm influencing, campaigning, working with services and generally trying to help the Society stake its claim as the leader in dementia services, knowledge, influence and research. In the few weeks I've been there I've already met some wonderful new friends, attended some cracking events and even had a chat with the Prime Minister. I've become a Dementia Friends Champion, and I've already delivered an Information Session to over 30 people. This week I visited my first service, getting to really understand the work we do with people with dementia.

I'll be honest and say that dementia wasn't really at the top of my list of causes I wanted to work for. I've never had personal experience of it and its not something I really understand. However, as I have learnt in the past five weeks, it affects more people than I realised, is something that debilitates people and families if not dealt with correctly, and is something that a still shockingly small number of people are given a formal diagnosis for or are able to access the necessary support. Having spent my Tuesday afternoon with younger people with dementia, I came to see that, whilst dementia is something horrible to have to live with, its possible to make small changes in the way we work to seriously improve the lives of people with dementia and their carers.

And really, that's what its all about for me. I work in the charity sector because I know that my skills are best suited to making people's lives better, and that is what motivates me to get up and do my work. Its as simple as that. I don't want prestige, I don't want a huge pay packet and I certainly don't want to make money for someone else. I want to know that my work in influencing the people who make decisions directly impacts people, and really helps them lead better lives. 

Yes, the charity sector is becoming more businesslike - as it should - and profit isn't the swear word that it used to be. We are becoming more corporate, we are providing more government services, and we are talking about brand and competition like any other business. But, at their core, charities, social enterprises and voluntary organisations are staffed by kind, caring and compassionate people - people who are bright, driven and exceptional at what they do - that work tirelessly for the people they support. 

There's no greater happiness for me than working in a charity, from the people I meet to the people I help. I couldn't be happier to have come back, with a brilliant and challenging job, for a cause that I now truly believe in.

A Religious Experience

Last Sunday, I was invited to the Dedication of the beautiful daughter of a very good friend of mine. It was to take place in a Pentecostal Church in East London, with a full service and food afterwards. Naturally, I said I would attend - I didn't want to miss the opportunity to see an important milestone of this child's life. And, the chance to see friends I hadn't seen in a long time was something I couldn't miss. I thought nothing of it and then, as the time approached, it dawned on me. This would be the first time I had been to a religious service in around ten years - the first since I had officially 'come out' - and not only that, I was going to a church that was specifically, and vehemently, anti equal marriage (if not anti-gay). However, I was interested to see how the service would work and, prepared to be offended, I went along.

I arrived, with a friend, and entered the unassuming church building. As I walked through into the main hall, I was greeted by smiling faces, warm 'Good Morning's and handshakes. We were ushered into a row and took our seats as the live band and singers were warming up. The service began with a welcome to new people (we were asked to stand up and applauded by the congregation, and hugged by those closest to us), and then we moved into the music. Such inspiring music. The singing in the church was warm and without embarrassment, and I couldn't help but find myself dancing and singing along with the band, congregation and singers on the stage. Men, women, old, young were united in praise of love, friendship and God. Whilst I am not a believer, I could get on board with the love, friendship and unity that is celebrated; and I could see why people came to this church. The messages from the Moderator and the singers were inspiring and all encompassing - showing love and friendship for all men and women in the congregation. I felt completely welcome and supported.

And then, the preacher stood up. And this love and friendship fell apart. His sermon - family values. My heart sunk. I knew full well what family values meant - an opportunity to rage against the breakdown of the family caused by sex outside marriage, careerism, a lack of spirituality in life, an inability to evangelise at the workplace and, that sin straight from the devil himself, same-sex marriage. Hidden in a humorous, cheerful and parental style sermon that grew in its intensity and excitement, all thought of inclusivity, love and friendship were dropped in the place of outdated Biblical teaching on wives submitting to husbands, children brought up to fear their parents and feel ashamed of their natural urges, and where any deviation from straight, child producing marriages is sinful. 

The preacher ended with the rabble-rousing 'male and female, not female and female or male and male'. Were it not for the fact that the actual dedication hadn't happened yet, I would have walked out of the church and not returned. I was disgusted that a preacher could use a happy and momentous occasion in a child's life to spout hate. I was more appalled at the cheers received in the church as his final statement was made. These were the people who had hugged and welcomed me. These were the people who, at the end of the service, hugged me tighter - thanking me so warmly for attending and telling me how I should come again.

I believe that, used correctly, religion and faith can absolutely be a force for good in the world. It unites societies and cultures, it provides for real philanthropy and for protection of the vulnerable, it gives people comfort in times of emotional need. However, used as it was in this sermon, it alienates huge sections of society and acts as a despotic and outrageous attempt at control of people. Until the love that I witnessed upon entering the church is replicated to all people, regardless of sexuality, marital status and anything else the church holds against us, religion will have no place in our society.

Coping with Rejection

Here I am again; suffering the feelings of rejection as I open yet another email thanking me for applying but, this time, there were just too many people with more experience to even offer me an interview. I suppose its better than not getting a response and being left to wonder whether my application was even received. I guess by now I've responded to around thirty job applications, each of which I know I have the skills, experience and mentality to do well in. So far, not one has even offered me an interview.

Luckily, I'm not in as bad a situation as many. I do currently have a part-time job, working for an organisation that runs a charity graduate scheme. I'm doing a little campaigning/marketing which is giving me even more experience. I haven't had to delve into the degrading world of Job Seeker's Allowance (for the second time in my life), and I live close enough to London to live at home with parents for free whilst commuting in to do some work. However, this job finished at the end of this month and, besides, its not what I want to be doing long term.

I'm not applying for jobs that are above what I should be getting. I definitely have a wide ranging, varied CV which shows my versatility and depth of experience. I am an engaging, passionate and dedicated person - which is something that I hope comes across in my application forms which I take a long time over writing and which are, in the opinions of everyone who has read them, pretty damn good. I have proven success in all jobs, and I have very few work gaps considering I graduated from university in the middle of the worst recession in modern times. And yet, still, I can't get past the first stage. I can't even get people to think I'm interesting enough to interview.

I came from a year of a graduate scheme that promised me I'd be set up to go straight into first-level management positions. Unfortunately, the direct experience of this graduate scheme isn't exactly what I want to be doing (I did service delivery, I want to do campaigning) but the skills I learnt throughout were the skills being asked for time and again. Perhaps its my own fault, perhaps instead of going to the US to do something life changing and wonderful I should have gone straight into another job and stuck myself there for two or three years. But then, I wanted varied and exciting experiences in my life - because its my life, because it needs to be exciting, because opening my mind with a variety of experiences is something I will always strive for.

The ultimate question here is how can I get experience when no-one will employ me to give me the experience?! This is a question faced by so many graduates who finished university with the promise that all the debt would be worth it in the end. Should people who have a degree really be expected to work for free for at least a year? Even in the charity sector this is a disgraceful notion that takes advantage of young people who have no other choice. This sector particularly needs to invest in bringing more young and talented people in; by shutting those looking for experience out it is doing itself a real disservice.

So I'll keep plugging along. And hope that, one day, an organisation will see that I'm worth taking a chance on. I may not be the finished article, I may not have the 'traditional' career progression, but I will work damn hard for any job that I can do. I will dedicated my time to learning the things I don't already know. I will work with passion and an enthusiasm unrivalled by many.

Until then, my application to be the new presenter of Blue Peter is looking more and more acceptable.

The Importance of Friendships

Throughout this blog I've written a lot about the people I've met and spent time with. The people I call my friends. I'm incredibly lucky to have so many people scattered around the world that I can call upon for comfort, for a good time, for simple company. But, I'm often left sad and disappointed. Sad because I don't see them enough even though they live in the same city as me, sad because those who've occupied the 'best friend' spot in the past are now reduced to an occasional text. Disappointed because, though I have a large number of people I could see, I'm still stuck in alone on a Friday night, or have only one friend I can walk to see.

However, over the past two weeks I have been reminded of how wonderful my friendships are. Having reunited myself with a number of old friends, resolved differences between very close friends and helped a good friend through a difficult time, I can safely say that I am incredibly lucky to have people in my life like these.

There's the first person I met at university, the most caring person I have ever known. We've lived together, spent hours in each other's company and lived through each other's hardest times. We live at opposite ends of the country and do not keep in touch with each other as regularly as we should. But, whatever happens, and however long its been, our relationship is rekindled with the first sight of each other. We know how the other thinks, are comfortable even in silence, and understand that which is most important to each other. Whenever I see her, I am reunited with a whole group of friends who share something with me; a strong and undying love for her. I am comfortable spending time with her family and her friends because of this shared love. Leaving her is never hard, because I know that we will always be friends. She brings the best out in me, challenges me to be better, and keeps me positive.

Then there's the sole survivor of a group of friends with whom I spent a lot of my time at university. We live in the same city; yet we don't see each other enough. We are regularly in contact however, solving each others relationship problems with an knowledge of each other that most others don't have. We have an easy, sarcastic and sometimes offensive banter that runs through our every discourse. We also have passionate arguments about our lack of contact or relative inability to meet up. But these arguments are short lived, resolved through a telephone call; or a lot of wine. I love her dearly.

The two closest friends with whom I currently spend the most time. Brought together by a common passion for theatre, we differ in age, but we are closer than many. Yet, we have been consistently arguing since my return from America. Bickering, like kids. Luckily, this has been mostly resolved, with a drunken night together and a lot of heart pouring. These two I value; for believing in me, for challenging me, for helping me develop into the person I love to be over the past year.

There are the married couple that inspire me every time I see them; with their talent, their love for one another, their fight for LGBT issues. The friends that have shared the start of my career with me; who believe in what I can do and push me to do it. The friends I made in America that shared one of the most important things I have ever done; friends I may never see again, but that will always live with me. The friends that reminded me why I love performing. The friends that shared the greatest theatrical experience of my life; united from all walks of life by a belief in community. My oldest friend, who shares a birthday with me, who has survived so many challenges in her life that I couldn't be more proud of her.

I am an extrovert. I need to be around these people in order to have energy, to be content, to feel good about myself. Sometimes I might put pressure on these friends to see me. Sometimes I may not see them for months. Sometimes, I might even be horrible to them. But, they are everything that makes me who I am. The friendships and relationships I have are as essential to my character as my upbringing, my background, my genetics. Without them, I couldn't be the person I am today.

So know this dear friends. I may not be the best person all the time. I may be hard to put up with, prone to ridiculous mood swings and unable to show my real affection for you. But stick by me, because you are all incredibly important to me. Even if we haven't spoken in ages, the friendships we have had have formed me. So thank you.

A Eulogy for a Year

And so, 2012, you have come to an end. We passed our final moments together in a foreign land, halfway up a mountain, with a tired and aching body from the days activities. No fanfare, no drunken party, no screaming at the top of my lungs. Just watching the minutes trickle by, with a glass of red wine in hand, sitting and chatting with family and friends. A fitting end to an exceptional year. The highs you provided far outweighed the lows; with your help I became a person I enjoyed being around and had confidence in again.

You've had so many highlights that its hard to break them down. You provided me with the opportunity to revive my love of the theatre, and perform in two of the plays I have been most proud of. Vernon God Little was a production that restored my faith in the theatre, and brought me a whole bunch of new and close friendships. Epidemic went further; allowing me to sing and dance again on stage for the first time in ages - reminding me that I do have talent, that I work hard, that I love meeting new people. Its subject matter allowed me to think about mental health, depression and obesity - making me confront my own feelings and body image. Again, it introduced me to a whole range of fantastically talented, caring, exciting people.

You gave me the chance to be part of a few once in a lifetime events. Whilst not strictly a royalist, the Diamond Jubilee was an incredible testament to a woman who has devoted her life to this country, and I was completely caught up in the pomp and circumstance of it all. Coming, as it did, after the highs of Epidemic it perfectly set off the summer. A summer which was dominated by the greatest national event I've ever been a part of - the Olympic and Paralympic Games. Not only did I go to events themselves, but I devoured the coverage all over the media. It was an incredible chance to see the UK rally together, to have a city show its love for one another, and to have a world focus its attention on us.

And, you gave me the chance to travel. Skiing to France, Sailing in Sicily, and the greatest experience of my life - three months working and travelling in the Eastern United States. Here I met fantastic people, worked harder than I ever have before, and elected a President. I developed my skills (skills built up through a wonderful year with THT), forged new and lasting connections and experienced new cultures.

Through World Pride 2012 you made me realise that being involved in the gay community isn't something I should shy away from, but embrace. You helped me go looking for companionship; I met guys I liked spending time with. I went to gay bars and clubs for the first time in years and enjoyed myself. I started to appreciate who I am and understand how it makes me who I am.

You introduced me to wonderful people, you developed friendships that were there before, you helped me work on friendships I'd had for years before. You were exciting, you were fun, you were certainly hard work; but you were worth it. You had set me up for better and better years to come.

And so it is goodbye 2012. You've been wonderful. But I won't dwell on your end, I will look forward with excitement to the years to come. 2013 already promises to be great; with a new production to get my teeth into, a development of my career, flying the nest for good. Its started well so far, I can only imagine it will get better and better.