Trying Endlessly to Find Love

Or… TEFL.

Love isn’t a problem actually, it’s finding a job I love that is my issue!

Last year I completed a 120 hour TEFL course and I have since been going through what can only be described as the most long winded job interview process to be a teaching fellow in Columbia. I sent through my CV to about fifty schools in South America and I had one response… One chance is all I need! The first part of the process was to send in an application form, so I went through, telling my life story as you do, and the fifth line down “which university did you study at?” my heart sunk, maybe this wasn’t my one chance after all. At this point, I thought it was better to be open and honest than go through all of this red tape to find that they wouldn’t accept me even if I had the best application in the world.

So I emailed explaining that I didn’t go to university but I did an apprenticeship and I am in a professional job and most of the people I work with have had degrees and over 30 years work experience… Basically, I am not stupid. A piece of paper, or lack of, does not define who I am or what I am capable of achieving. I thought it was hopeless, because the application said it in black and white “degree required”, but I had to say my peace anyway.

Two weeks passed and I had no response, so I let it go and applied for a few other jobs. Until one night after work when looking for a shopping confirmation, an email appeared “sorry for the late reply…” my heart fluttered, is this my chance? Does she understand that I am a capable human?

Only time will tell.

Have you been through an interview process abroad? I would love to know I am not alone in my frustration that not having a degree is bringing me!

 

 

 

 

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Light in Darkness

Last year bought several dark moments, but it was these times which I realised which lights were shining the brightest.

It was these moments that I found myself rediscovering my relationship with God.

I was brought up in church, went to Sunday school every week, knew all the stories, knew how to play “church”. It wasn’t until I turned 16 that I first discovered my own relationship with God, and surprisingly it had nothing to do with Church. There was little for me at the church my parents went to,  most of the young people were scared away by the hymns and the closed minded attitude. I fought it for ages, I got involved with a Christian charity called “One Generation” which encouraged you to run “Christian Unions” in schools. And of course my CU was the best… on valentines day I bought three hundred love-heart shaped post-it notes and stayed up writing/posting positive messages such as “you are beautiful” or “you are loved” etc. I posted the messages on students lockers purely for the joy of doing it. I wanted to spread the happiness and love that being a Christian gave me.

But then it all went wrong. I went from having the most successful year of my life so far, to absolutely failing my Alevels and losing all my dreams and ambitions (or so it felt at the time). Ashamingly, I blamed God. I believed that he had dangled this amazing bright future infront of me, and then stripped it away from me as a test. A test I failed too easily. I turned my back on Church, my friends, my relationship with God and buried myself into a deadend job, going out and a toxic relationship.

This lasted about eighteen months but eventually I stabilised, found myself an apprenticeship, broke off my relationship (a few times if I am honest), and accepted that I wasn’t going to uni to have the career as a doctor that I dreamed off. I applied myself to my new job and found myself being promoted a few times, I made amends with most of my friends and found myself in a healthy loving relationship. The only thing I didn’t repair was my relationship with God. I convinced myself I was best not to go back there, it would only cause me heartbreak and pain – right?

But then I found myself broken again, but this time, there was no obvious solution. Neither my parents, my boyfriend nor alcohol could help me numb the pain I was feeling and this was when I knew I had to try. I had heard about a new church in the centre of Birmingham with a strong student base, and I gave it a shot. Walking into that building for the first time was scary, but straight away  I knew there was something there. Even though I had never stepped foot in there before I immediately felt a sense of peace. It was the same feeling you get when you finally get home after a long hard day, and your favourite person in the whole world is there ready to greet you and welcome you.

I was home.

 

 

New Year Old Me

Have I been asleep all this time? I’ve been known to oversleep but 2017? When did that happen? After six months of silence… I have some explaining to do!

Honestly, without sugar coating it, the last six months have been painful. Stressed is a word which people throw around so flippantly nowadays, so lets just say I have been “desserts” instead. We all know that long periods of having… desserts… is not good for you. For one, you get fat. Very, very fat. So now add in a spoonful of pressure and a few dollops change and what do you get?! Rice frickin’ pudding.

The stupid thing is, that blogging probably would have really helped. Oh how retrospect is a beautiful thing. But ofcourse, as always I turn away from the things that I enjoy when I really need them the most. I often talk to my various friends during the working day, but some how convinced myself that if I just stopped talking for a couple of days I just might get through the end of my to do list, and I might not have to wake up in the middle of the night panicking that I had forgotten a task or starting to draft emails in my mind. Whata mistaka to makea. In choosing to limit my conversations I completed isolated myself, and ofcourse I never did make it through that to do list, and havnt even to this day.

My problem is that I give my heart and soul to everything I put my hands too. Usually, it’s not a problem, it got me great GCSEs and helped me get nominated for a shit load of awards over the years… but in this scenario, it was my kryponite. It’s soul destroying to work your ass off every day (and most evenings) to only get pulled up for the tiny errors you make, and get zero recognition or satisfaction from it because that’s what you get paid to do!. When you give your heart and soul to something, there has to be a point where it gives you something back, otherwise you end up with nothing left to give. If anything, the last six months have taught me to be more reserved with my work ethic. It has been so hard to turn it off, every day I had to actively tell myself not to push myself, to only try tp achieve what is achievable in the 8 hours I am at work, to be “average”. I almost hate myself for it. But I ended up with nothing left to give, so what other option did I have?

Over Christmas, I had a whole week to relax and to turn off from work, it gave me a glimpse of my old self again. Every day I am back into my old routine I am starting to feel myself slipping away again, the chest pains are gradually coming back and the restless nights have begun again. I am praying that this blog will keep me in refresh mode, give me an escape, and a voice to set me free from isolation. Forget “New Year New Me” I am looking for the old me, she’s awesome, but she seems to have gotten lost somewhere in the madness of 2016.