Once upon a time.....

Let’s face it. I’m broke. As in ‘’ my face is almost wanted in 3 banks around the world’’. Broke.
What? Find a new job? No way mate. Everyone in town knows that the French girl is leaving to Thailand on the 17th July. Even those who don’t who the hell the French girl is.

Mind you, I still have 2 jobs. I proudly work 11h you see. Per week. Of course mate. I remember that once, in another life, 11h was my day’s work. Yep things change mate. You’ve got to adapt.

Broke also means you CAN go to yoga with your friend at 9.30 on a Monday morning and go for coffee in the sun at the café you ‘’sometimes’’ work at and get to have a friendly chat to everyone. Deeper than ‘’ 1 latte and a falafel for table 24 please’’.

But still. I’m broke.

‘’ I’ve got a job for you. It’s good money too’’. Now read that sentence again in an Italian accent. And you’ll feel how I felt. Doubtful. No I would not do ANYTHING for money. Grazie , mate.
‘’ I need someone to clean my house , I’ve got a house inspection soon and no time to do it’’

Who does he think I am. Freaking Cinderella.

‘’ He’s just trying to help you darling. How does he know you need money anyway?’’ My friend asked me.

‘’ He doesn’t’’ How weird is that. He must be some sort of soul mate. A what? Who are you kidding? Do you find underwear in your soul mate’s bed? There was another freaking Cinderella in the story. And she was a size 8. B****.

My friend was really excited for me that I found a way to make some extra cash. I wasn’t. Because I can’t take cash from friends you see. I just can’t. I never could. If I like you I work for free for you. Yes, that’s why I’m broke. I can’t change , I just can’t.

‘’Well, you’re going to have to. Money is n exchange of energy. You work, you get paid for it. It makes everyone feel good. The one who gives, and the one who receives. You can’t refuse to receive for ever.’’ Crap. And I thought she was on my side. She was actually.

And then it all came back. The memories of my family being torn apart because of inheritance issues and how, as a little girl I had learnt that if you accept money from someone you love you are going to lose them because one day, they will stop loving you. Painful.

But I did go. And cleaned the Italian’s house. I was Freaking Cinderella. While I was cleaning I realised how much that guy actually did for me. Whether he knows it. Or not.

I got thinking about the true meaning of Soul Mate. It jumped at me. People who help your soul grow. In other words , people who make YOU face YOUR shit. So YOU can move on. We’ve got many of them around us. If only we could listen…

When did we that meaning get lost ?

Oh yeah I’ve got it. Freaking Cinderella. She had to come along and look for bloody Prince Charming.
And somehow we started thinking that there is this one person in the world who will face your shit for you. And we called him/ her our one and only Soul Mate. Then we decided we had to make babies with them and provide for them. To live happily ever after. So we stop listening to other people ‘s attempts to help us. And quite happily stop growing and start ignoring or projecting our own shit.

Until we get fat and tired. And we start looking again. For another soul mate we can abuse freely and have babies with.
I’ve got news for you. No one will deal with your shit.

Your soul mates will only point at it and will be there for you when you really need to. And PS you don’t have to sleep with your soul mate either. Mmm WHAT? Damn………….

Of course I was going to run away after cleaning so I had a good reason not to accept money from someone I liked.
He was not back. I could not wait for him I had to go to the gym. What a perfect, brilliant excuse…. And then there he was.
‘’ What a good job. The house looks amazing. How much do I owe you?’’
I was going to say ‘’ don’t be silly mate , invite me for dinner sometime and it will all be forgotten’’ as I usually say. but, instead, I said
‘’ 20 dollars an hour. So that’s 80 dollars please ’’ . I did it. I did it. I did it. Just when I thought I had faced all my shit he said :

‘’ So … do you have time for…. ?’’

There we go. Again. I thought explaining to an Italian guy that some connections were way deeper than sex, was like telling him that he should not have his spaghetti al dente. But something really strange happened. He got it. We got it.

I proudly walked away with my 80 dollars.And my lessons learnt.

When I did boxing at the gym that night, I was not punching any guy’s face in my head for once. Acceptation. So yeah, you find bras in their beds, they marry other people, they don’t text you back or facebook request you, but mate , they got you where you are. Be greatful.

I just wanted to say sorry. To all these guys I wrongly diagnosed with ‘’ princecharminingitis’’ or worse ‘’ friendswithbenefitis’’. I did not know better. Blame freaking Cinderella.

More than that I wanted to say thanks for making me face all this crap.

Thanks To the one who became gay just in time to be my best friend, to the one who let me go find myself somewhere else and kept all my furniture, the one who showed me that the only person I would follow to the other side of the world is myself , the one who pushed me beyond my physical limits , and helped my body tell me that it did not cope well with gluten but was freaking good at sit ups, and special thanks to the one who got me here. To Australia. On this awesome journey. That was worth the pain in the end. And , PS, now that I mean it, ‘’congratulations’’ .

And then you have soul mates who are your friends already. They are the ones you know will be there for you when you face your shit. But when you least expect it, they also make you face it too. By not playing your game. That’s how I got an email who hit me in the face last night. It’s black or it’s white. But you need to commit to one side. Face it. Now. Thanks a million for that ... Lee.

Then you’ve got your other soul mate. The one who looks after you when it all collapses. The ones Who has the hot chocolate ready in 2 seconds as soon as she feels you need it. The one who helps you get it out while nothing makes sense anymore.
You hear yourself saying something about an email you just had from England, how you just quit your beloved job in Brighton because you can’t commit , because it’s not fair on anyone , because all you want to do is to become a writer and travel, that you love them but you quit, that now you’ve got nothing , NOTHING left. No money , no job security NOTHING to go back to.

She just stands by you while you cry your eyes out, she feeds you gluten free biscuits until you ‘re ready to accept. And commit to who you really are. Even if it hurts mate.

So yeah , Cinderella, I see what you mean now. It’s far less painful to look for bloody Prince Charming. You never get to have the feeling that your heart is just being ripped off. And you have nothing, nothing left… but yourself.

Once upon a time there was a princess with no Italian lover, 80 dollars in her pocket and a single ticket to Pukhet. In extreme pain. But free mate

FREE