I got thinking about where I am now and how I got here. About where I was and where I'm going to be in ten years time.

I live in a small village on the outer suburbs. Its so small that you can drive straight through it in about half a mile. Everybody knows everybody here...so much so that the day we moved in (approx. 10 years ago) my mum started a rumor (a harmless one I assure you) just to see how long it would take for her friend's mother-in-law (who also lives here) to hear it through the grapevine. The answer is six days. Its a lovely community and despite the occasional chavs stirring shit up and a notorious pub, its pretty safe.

...so why do I hate it?

Because its comfortable and its safe (for the most part-okay that psychopath with a hammer and the dog walker was just a one off!)

This may confuse you. I mean a happy safe place to live? Wtf is wrong with you?

Point is I am living in a perfectly comfortable existence right now. I have a job in the village, I live at home with my family, I pay my mum rent, I can hop on the train and visit my friends until I have saved enough money to buy a local property and a car. But I'm merely existing. Im not living.

Everyone needs a catalyst. An event that pushes you out of the comfort zones and forces us to do something different.

eg. I worked in a shop. I really wanted a job doing art but my lack of confidence and fear of rejection meant my portfolio wasn't being done. It was weak and still is and I knew I would not get a job doing concept art at this stage. Not yet. So I kept my head down and carried on existing.

The shop's profits fell and it had to be closed down. This acted as a catalyst for me. I needed money or else I would have had to mooch off my parents. I simply was forced to find a new job wherever I could, and either by fate or accident, an interview for part time office admin suddenly turned into an interview for full time illustrator. *punches air*

That was just one catalyst among many that has pushed me to do something with my life.

Another was my aunt getting engaged. If I am to be a bridesmaid I will have camera's shoved in my face. Everyone who knows me knows I hate having my picture taken, because every time I look at the results of said picture...a piece of my already delicate self esteem is chipped away just that little bit more. There is only a select few photographs of me that I can look at without bursting into tears.

The engagement pushed me into doing something about my self esteem.

Today is weigh day, and I've lost 2 stone and non of my jeans fit. I feel fucking fantastic! XD

...but I'm still living in this goddamn village!