The Unstuck Project

There’s a saying that I love ‘the windshield is bigger than the rearview mirror for a reason.’ But, in order for me to go forwards, I need to go back a bit, see how I became stuck. Some of what’s written below will become blogs/stories in their own right, I need to delve into these as I become unstuck, for these I’ll pop MOTL (more on this later) next to it, and, if I get really fancy on here, I’ll attach links (for the newbies who have just found this page)

Enough housekeeping…… let’s begin…….

I can’t pinpoint when I became a dried up ol spinster, when I stopped belly laughing, having fun and made a fool of myself for comedy value! When did I just start walking, instead of the days when everywhere was a catwalk? I’d walk into offices, abuse, banter, tell a few funny stories (usually at my expense) and swagger out, play jokes on people: remember back in the day when we had hole punchers with a lid type thing at the bottom, I used to collect the little hole punch pieces of paper and pop them in people’s umbrellas, tape the receiver button down on phones and move keys/letters around on keyboards. Back in the day I remember dancing the nail varnish off my big toe (can’t do that anymore with Biab, forget biab, I can’t remember the last time I danced!) A quick cheeky drink in the office on a Friday before heading out. Life used to be such fun, I was so quick witted and many times told I should do stand up. Where was the girl who lit up every room and truly wanted to shine light on others…….where the fuck did I go? When did this happen and how? When did I change? Sure, I kept smiling, but I suppose, if you looked closely, most of the time it never reached my eyes. Instead I found a “fuck it” button, pressed it on the daily cause everything and everyone got on my tits!!!

About 3 years ago, a shift happened, I woke up and didn’t want to play the game anymore. I was tired of some friends, work colleagues, associates and allies that didn’t align with me anymore. Some now had a bit more of a sting in their words or their actions shifted slightly (or were they the same and I just started to see and hear them?) There were the drainers who constantly needed reassurance and pick me ups and left my cup empty. The ones who always wanted help, but far too busy to return the favour. To be fair there wasn’t many, I’m quite good at seeing the c^nts, but somehow these people now had a seat at my table and the question was, should they? Sometimes it truly is, “it’s not you, it’s me”. So, I changed who sat at my table and who I truly wanted on “The Firm” (MOTL)

The next biggest shift was last year, the day before my 45th birthday. Sitting at home, getting ready to take an exam (failed, in case you were wondering) and some thoughts popped up, “fuck I’m 45 tomorrow, I haven’t planned anything”. Then boom, the epic self-destruct/lightbulb moment, “how the hell am I 45 already, what have I achieved………well, not fucking much (boom a seed I’ve so cleverly just planted right there!) I’ve spent the last 30 years being on a diet, I can’t save money for shit, I have no man, no kids. I’ve got to give up vaping (stopped smoking before vaping even existed!), I must find a new job, I’m bored with this one”. I’ve been playing this cycle year in, year out, I’m walking down the same hallway and wearing the fucking carpet out, it’s basically threadbare, and the wallpaper is old, ripped, tattered and holding on for dear life cause I won’t peel it off. Thing is, I know this space, these walls and hallway are so comfortable and safe, I know the story of every step and rip. I also don’t need keys to any of these doors, they’re all wide open for me to freely walk in and out of. But, but now I’m bored, I’m done, I want a different hallway, new doors with shiny new keys, new wallpaper all vibrant and energetic. How the hell do I get off this floor, I want to see what’s on the floor above.

Hooray, change here we come! Right, first things first, kick some pud (weight), there’s a new fat jab thing out, I’ll have a look at that (MOTL). Alongside this, I’ll get myself some qualifications and new job, that would fix my boredom (MOTL) I’ll go on dates (tick, then untick MOTL) and find Mr Becky! (no tick but MOTL). I’ll stop vaping (news flash – still vaping) save money (not saved a penny, well that’s a lie I have £5 in a savings account, had to pop that in when I opened it!) My New Path peps!!!! My epic new journey has begun, I’ll get the old Becks back now. A new me, a new chapter, in fact, I’m gonna throw this fucking book out, Ooooooo, I’ll get a new book, Volume 2 I’ll call it. No shits given, shiny new Becky was being born. But, whilst trimming down some of those trees, I was watering others. I became a bit of a recluse, not being bothered, I was cancelling gym sessions, spent weekends not going out (and very content in doing so) my vibe and base level happiness was lower, work was taking up most of my life and it was draining. This wasn’t working, I wasn’t doing too well in changing my path.

Fast-forward to May 2026, we had a 4 day tube strike, followed by a lovely bank holiday weekend. Tuesday morning, up, getting ready for work and I felt really anxious, jittery, uneasy…….. why?? I honestly couldn’t work it out. So unpicking it (I’m getting quite good at doing that) I worked out I’d just spent 6 days at home, I didn’t go out, cancelled all gym sessions, I just worked and pottered about. How the hell did I stay at home for 6 days, not even realising or climbing the walls. All of a sudden it hit me, Becky the Spinster was here – when did she turn up? Jump to 2 weeks later, I had lunch with 3 very good friends, 2 of them had some wonderful stories on what they’ve been up to, some epic changes they’ve made to their lives, and wallop, I decided to act. Nothing changes if nothing changes right, and I need to change, I’m still in the same hallway, with the same shitty wallpaper all doors wide open.

So, I’ve decided to do things a bit differently and turn everything on its head. Lock some (most) doors and just get rid of the keys. Take a walk through my forest and start cutting down some trees, to hell with it, I’m gonna plant some new ones too!

I keep reading my book backwards and I’m bored of it. I want to impress my 90 year old self, make her proud when she’s sitting in her cute little garden on a summer’s day telling stories of her perfectly imperfect life. Also, whilst I’m at it, ask myself one big question too, “what would I do if I knew I couldn’t fail?”

So here we are, doing everything differently. Are you ready, cause I know I fucking am!