The grass isn't greener

I had a bit of a wobbly this morning on twitter. According to some, what makes you a good person, a popular person, a fun person, a person others aspire to be all comes down to the dress they wore at the ... event. And I find this very sad, sad that people think that getting the outfit right equates to being successful, popular, wonderful, brilliant etc, etc, etc.

We all need and seek attention and in our own minds it is justified. Sometimes we just want to let off steam about something, other times we geninually want help and other times we just want to know we are not alone.

The trouble is in 140 characters it's hard to express what the actual message is.

I deal with things with humour. I'll tweet a serious issue, concern, rant and at the end of the day when it's all come to an end I'll blog it.

You can read my blogs and tweets as informative, as a cry for help as someone who has had a very difficult time and just wants to let off steam or as someone who is attention seeking and wants people to say 'well done you, you've coped so well, aren't you wonderful and btw I love your dress'

And tbh I'm not actually seeking any kind of response from anyone. So why Blog? why tell everyone how hard your life is or how well you've coped. Keep an old fashioned diary if it helps just to write your feelings and frustrations down in.

Well that's what I'm doing but I do choose to publish it, my family and friends back in the UK only get to hear about the outcome, the lovely new house we've moved into or the wonderful trips we've been on and I was hoping that blogging it all would help them to understand, the grass isn't greener, I'm not lucky. I don't want them to say 'well done, I admire you, I could never have coped with that' I just want them to stop saying 'stop complaining, you have a fantastic life'

My life isn't fantastic but it's not shit either. I don't really fit in here, but then I didn't really fit in back in the UK. It's a fact. I'm not public school parent material nor do I fit the mould of being an expat wife. I've tried. I don't do lunches, coffee mornings, play golf or tennis. I can play the part for so long, fret over what clothes to wear, worry about what I look like, how I sound, mind my language. But I can't keep the pretence up for long, I get bored with it, pretending to be something I'm not and that's why I had a rant on twitter this morning.

I actually like being me, I don't want to be anyone else, I don't want their life, their clothes, their issues, hassles. I just about cope with the ones I have. I'm not worse off than anyone else any more than I'm luckier than anyone else.

It's just life and I've got to learn how to live it. I just need a voice to be heard and twitter and blogging gives me that opportunity. Some of you will slate me for it (unfollows) some will slag me off (blocks) and others will be my friends, offering support and advice.

But what I don't want to hear anymore is 'you're so lucky, I wish I could be more like you, I love the way you...... and btw WHERE DID YOU GET THAT DRESS?'