Who Do You Think You Are?

Ah, a delightful summer's day; children are playing, birds are singing and after a week of sunshine, the heavens have opened. And it is on such a day as this that the ice cream man decided to pay a visit (I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream - even when it's pissing down outside). Cue childlike excitement from myself and Abbie followed by the undertaking of a mad dash up the street by her brother Ryan and I (me in my pjs, natch, because "What's the point in getting dressed when I'll not be going anywhere?") to find ourselves some frozen treats.

After ordering, with me getting all over excited and asking for "EVERYTHING. LOTSANDLOTS OF EVERYTHING" on my screwball, Ryan made some hilarious quip about being unable to take me anywhere and wouldn't you look at me in my pjs, and the ice cream man remarked that he felt as though he were in Belfast. Well, my reply was "Well, I am from Belfast ahahah"...
Incoming message for Robyn, you're from Chester, you're a Cestrian, you need to stop confusing yourself and those around you by identifying yourself as a Norn Ironer, so you do.

Seriously though, how weird is it going to be when I *eventually* get to Chester? I won't know who I am anymore. I've spent my entire teenage life in Belfast. The years where I form my identity. For seven years I've been the English girl who talks funny, but essentially I've become a Belfastian who talks funny. How will I be seen by others when I'm in Chester? "That Irish girl who talks funny"?

I'll have to find some Northern Irish friends when I get over there, I'll surely be lost without the camaraderie of taking the mick out of Jim on Corrie and the infestation of "Belfast" folk in Hollyoaks.

I'm sure it will take a couple of confusing months to adjust and not feel totally confused about who I am and where I'm from, but it's not the end of the world. Sure, if it's not my cup of tea I can always move back, so I can.

I ramble too much, so I do.

It's time to end this post, so it is.

Recreating Robyn

This here is going to be a post to clarify exactly what my blog's about, and why it has the title Recreating Robyn.

It's because I'm trying to step away from the person I am and become the person I want to be. This means many things, but don't go thinking that I'm changing the essence of Robyn because that's just not true. I like myself, I like what I like, and I'm not going to change that, merely readjust what it means to be me.

Who I want to be is someone I can be happier with. My whole life I've been unsatisfied with who I am, constantly wanting to be someone different. I'd often attempt to mimic the styles of others without success, envious of their beauty and style. I've now realised the problem, by trying to be somebody else I'm not being true to myself. I need to keep being Robyn, just do away with what I don't like and keep what I do, enhancing it and bettering myself in the process. I'm in a position to do this now that I'm sure of what I like and what I dislike.

❤ Who I am ❤
-Collector of unnecessary things (notebooks, recipes, neuroses)
-Incapable of writing
- Unemployed
- Unhealthy
- Lacking hobbies.
- Frustrated/Indecisive
- Dreaming of all the things I could do (if I had a little money...) but doing nothing towards achieving my goals.

❤Who I want to be ❤
- Housewife
-Writer
- Gardener
- Knowlegeable
- Cook
- Craftswoman
- Confident/Composed/Happy/Well dressed
- Likeable.

I don't want to change who I am, merely rearrange things a little. Yes, I want to look different, but not to become someone I'm not. I'm still wearing an assortment of clothes from past phases, is it any wonder I'm unhappy with my appearance? But in this recreation, appearance is only the aesthetics of the new me, something to better reflect my personality. I  also need to find a way to become someone I like a little better, someone who isn't constantly berating herself for who she is. Less neurotic, less indecisive. Someone who is happy with herself and in control.

Though I do have to say, some of the neuroses I do love. Specially the bit where I can't sit on a warm toilet seat.