Yelly Writes

Smell you later!

Yelly

I’ve always worn the same thing…very tailored, preppy, buttoned-down pin-striped, pin-tucked shirts, the occasional pleated skirt (or an a-line one), pressed trousers, sweater twin set, tailored jacket, turtle or mock turtle neck shirts, lots of stripey breton-esque sweaters or shirts, very navy or dark denim , loafers, ballet flats, brogues, white sneakers (I used to live in Keds!) which I think are called plimsoles in the UK. I don’t think I’ve deviated so much – although I think lately, I’ve started wearing longer, flowy dresses. Yeah I’ll be easy to pick up in a line-up. She’s the preppy one!

I’m the same with the scents that I wear! For the longest time, I used to wear Elizabeth Arden’s Green Tea. I’ve always liked light, fresh scents although some of my favourites aren’t necessarily light (love, love, love D&G’s The One and Armani’s Si and Chance by Chanel) but I’ve been known to wear Nenuco baby cologne on a daily basis, or L’Occitane’s Verbena or Eau de Givenchy, which is a current staple on my dresser. I’ve run out of EDG so am waiting for the next trip out where I can nip into duty-free to stock up! That being said, I’m tiding myself over with high street scents from Glossier (You) and & Other Stories (Punk Bouquet) and I treated myself to Jo Malone’s English Pear and Freesia (which I occasionally layer with another Jo Malone scent, Earl Grey and Cucumber).

I think the being partial to smelling nice is because everyone in my family always wore scents. My mom always wore Chanel or Dior (like her sisters) and she always smelled nice. My dad’s sisters and my granny were wearers of Chanel No. 5 and my Lola (my mom’s mom) always smelled of tea roses. my dad particularly was partial to Davidoff aftershave so I think I was always partial to a guy who always smelled nice. I remember this guy I used to sit next to in class in uni who used to wear Grey Flannel and I remember thinking “Goodness, he smells attractive!” But it was never about the blow your head off smell. It had to be subtle and not in your face. You don’t want a headache!

What’s your go-t0 scent?

Yelly Writes

Booktalk

Yelly

I’ve been walking through Waterstones Piccadilly on my lunch breaks because I know that I need to get away from my desk and give my eyes a screen break. There are also days when I can’t figure out what to eat so thinking about food just gets frustrating. Instead of wandering aimlessly through food stalls at the market at St James Piccadilly or staring at the shelves at the nearby Pret, I just head to Waterstones and look at the books on offer.

There is an almost indecent pleasure in finding a book that you’ve been wanting to get your hands on for a while.

It’s that moment, after searching through the bookshop (possibly for days during your lunch breaks) and you finally catch sight of it on a bookshelf. Your heart skips a beat then it starts racing because it’s THE book and you just have to have it.

It’s the intoxicating new book smell of it, the weight of it in your hands, the textures of pages, the book cover and the raised feel of the print on your fingertips. It’s the heat that gets generated when you hold it in your hands for a little longer than usual because you can’t let it go.

It’s the giddiness and the I-can’t-stop-smiling-because-I’ve found it feeling as you take it to the till to pay for it so you can take it with you outside the bookshop.

You can’t get that feeling from an e-book or an audiobook (well okay, if you bought the CDs for it…but does anyone actually do that anymore?).

@yellywelly

Yelly Writes

When you know…you see the cues!

Yelly

It’s certainly been an interesting few weeks for me. Interesting is probably a tepid way of describing the last few days. But it’ll do for now.

@yellywelly

I’ve always valued telling it like it is, but at the same time, I’ve always erred on the side of very polite, very cautionary, socially accepted discourse. I am, after all, the daughter of my mother, who has always had the gift of utterance – she always knew how to say things in a way that fit the situation. She never failed to try to teach her children the value of saying the right things at the right time, in the right way so that the intended message was delivered correctly (she often wrote speechers for government officials – even for the president of the Philippines once, so yeah, she knew what she was doing!).

I remember having a no-holds-barred conversation with a friend (who sadly is no longer a close friend) and I let it rip – I said exactly what I thought, in exactly the way I thought I should say it. And I hurt them. I know our friendship was never the same after that and we never recovered. I learned a valuable lesson that day – gauge your audience and adjust. It’s the sensible, sensitive, and considerate thing to do.

It’s also such a limiting way to live your life. But it’s living within the social mores. The adult way of colouring within the lines.

My communication style in relationships has also fallen into rhythms in pretty much the same way. Especially in the most important of my relationships. I had to adjust how I said things so that the people I was speaking to understood what I was saying. I know you’re meant to be able to say what you want how you want to say it to the people who are meant to know you best. But it wasn’t exactly how it worked out for me. I found myself walking on eggshells and walking the emotionally-charged verbal tightrope with my most important relationship. I know that relationships are two-way streets and it should always be a bipartisan effort but let’s be honest, it’s not always a 50-50 work split in relationships. Someone always does more work, is more considerate, bends backward more, and it’s not usually the person who thinks they’re the ones who do this. My fault is that I do jump with two feet into relationships – I love (or become involved) so completely that I put everything of myself in relationships and I fully immerse myself into being who they need (because maybe I subconsciously hope they’re doing the same for me). I wrap myself around the person and be who they want me to be because I want to make them happy in the way they make me happy. In healthy relationships, the other person will want you to be who you are, they will see who you really are and not who they want you to be, and they want you to show them who you are so that you grow together. I don’t think all my relationships were necessarily healthy. Or more specifically, some of the people I was in relationships with weren’t necessarily in a space to contribute to a healthy relationship, or want to work on having a healthy, well-rounded relationship. But there you go. Hindsight is always 20-20.

I’ve been reacquainting myself with who I am again…or at least who I was before this last relationship imploded. Whether correctly or incorrectly, I’ve decided that my case of arrested development stems from my being involved in this relationship – I stopped being who I was and growing into the person I was meant to be because I became the person that I thought this relationship needed me to be. But that’s all changed now, I think. I’m relearning to say no when it serves me, when I think I need to say no because whatever is happening doesn’t sit well with me. I’m relearning the boundaries that I actually have and I’m reassessing whether they are actually where they need to be or whether I can stretch them. I’m actually having fun reacquainting myself with who I am.

And because I am getting to know myself again, I am (re)learning my quirks. I am still polite, I will always try to be diplomatic about things, and I will probably always try to be what people need me to be in relationships – because that’s who I am. But I think at the same time. I have actually started to take steps back when things aren’t right for me. I’ve actually said no several times when my hard limits were reached. I’ve also learned to not give too much of myself now. I used to overcompensate but now I think I’m learning to match the energy that I’m being served. It’s all a work in progress and I’m all about the WIP these days.

What hasn’t changed though is my overthinking. It’s exhausting and I know it’s something I need to work on. I still think it’s a superpower (yes, probably flawed reasoning!) because I know it’s protected me from a lot of situations – I’ve been able to mentally prepare myself for heartache and disappointment because I’ve overthought situations to death or it’s allowed me to be good at my job because I’ve considered every possible scenario, or it’s just allowed me to think of permutations so I’m prepared for most things (yes, I accept that overthinking is not good, but I think I’ve survived well on this planet because of this, so this will be difficult to manage!).

So trust me, I may smile, I may pretend to be confused or ditsy or inept (and to be fair, with the brain fog that I go through some days, this might be more genuine than you think!), I may say the polite thing and say okay, but I know when I’m being managed, because I’ve overthought everything (twice!).

I would rather hear the truth, receive the critique, be told off than dance the polite dance and get platitudes. It doesn’t serve anyone.

Yelly Writes

Making like Elsa

Yelly

One thing that never ceases to surprise is me is how quick the passage of time is. Blink and you’ll miss it. I’ve always said that time flies, even when you’re not having fun.

I received news yesterday – I knew it was coming but I didn’t expect to receive it so soon. The quickness of receiving the news was surprising which was probably why I was unsettled when I first read the message. What quickly followed was relief…and then the feeling of “now what?”

Then, as usual, I went down the rabbit hole of thinking up possible (but very improbable) scenarios, which I’m prone to do because I’m an overthinking (work in progress yes, but still an overthinker!). But the difference is, this time, I noticed the signs and told myself to stop. After a figurative shake-it-off session, I managed to slow down the downward thought spiral.

I need to let it go. Because it’s something I can’t control. The only thing I can control is my reaction to the situation. And my course of action: move on and let it go.

@ ctto
Yelly Writes

C’mon now!

Yelly

Sometimes the distraction is welcome. Sometimes it’s even what you need. But really, if it starts with a “dis” is it ever really a positive thing?

Something to make you go hmmmm!

@yellywelly
Yelly Writes

A belated birthday post

Yelly

My birthday was a few weeks ago but I didn’t celebrate it with a birthday post, like I usually did, because I was working on my birthday (that hasn’t happened in a while either!). As it happened, one of my uni friends was in town from Chicago and we met up for dinner (where I met his partner and his nephew at Din Tai Fung in Covent Garden – I know, random!). So I did have a birthday celebration of sorts. But apart from the virtual birthday greetings from people who actually remembered, my birthday passed relatively uneventfully., which I think I now prefer. I’m not ashamed of the aging, because really you’re only as old as you feel (most days, I think I behave way too immaturely anyway!), but with everything that’s happened in my life in the past 18 months, I think quietly celebrating was the mature thing to do.

I had a doctor’s appointment last Friday to discuss my most recent blood tests. Funnily enough, I’d completely forgotten about the appointment! I was quite fortunate that I’d seen a reminder pop up on my phone (maybe the forgetfulness was a sign of aging?)! I had about 15 minutes to get dressed (I was taking my sweet time having cups of coffee, mindlessly scrolling and posting morning stories on Instagram) and get to the GP’s surgery (it’s probably a 10-minute leisurely walk). I managed to get to the surgery with a few minutes to spare, thank goodness.

I’m a worrier and tend to overthink so by the time I’d checked in for my appointment and sat down in the doctor’s surgery waiting room, I’d already written the day off as a toughie day solely on the premise that I’d completely forgotten about the doctor’s appointment. I’d also had a spectacularly difficult week so I thought it was par for the week’s course! The doctor was late (which was a blessing on some level because I hate making people wait – I’d rather do the waiting!), and normally, I’d be okay with waiting, but I needed to be back at my desk to start working at 9AM because there were so many things I had to get done on a Friday so I was clock-watching.

I was also a tiny bit worried about the blood test results because I was trying to get my hbA1C levels to a good place. I was on a good trajectory, but I tend to self-sabotage especially when things in my life are stressful (and the last few months had been stressy). I’d been doing pretty well because of the weight loss (10,000 steps and 4 liters of water a day!) and I knew that that would put me in good stead, but I also know me…so as usual, I was prepared to hear that my blood glucose levels had gone slightly up (hoping for the best but prepared for the worst?). I mean it would be disappointing, but I also knew that I could deal with it. I just had to work a little harder for the next quarter (I’d been considering something fun like a step class…?).

I really had nothing to fear. The diabetologist had very good news. My hbA1c levels were still going down, my kidney and liver functions were excellent, and my cholesterol was in a very good place. All in all, I got a virtual gold star for my efforts. I was told that if I kept working at it, and I maintained my sugar levels, we could start considering tapering off some of the medication that I was taking (I’m no longer on insulin and exenatide injections so that was a major achievement!). I was told to keep doing what I was doing.

So my week from relative hell did actually end on a positive note (I also had a lovely time in the park with friends, celebrating a friend’s birthday later).

I’m allowing myself to enjoy the fact that I do feel a lot better about myself these days (not just physically, although I feel a lot better about my body – I think I’m a heck of a lot stronger mentally and emotionally as well). I actually like the person I see in the mirror because I actually recognise the person looking back at me. It’s been a long time since I’d seen her.

Yelly Writes

A reminder to smile…

Yelly

Saw this on Instagram and shared it on my stories…it made me laugh so I thought I’d share it here too.

@ CTTO
Yelly Writes

Acceptance

Yelly

Since God sees what we can’t see, He separates us from those people to fix and stop the haemorrhage. As any doctor would.

You feel lonely when God separates you. Often you experience the worst anxiety ever to exist on this earth. Out of fear, you start to question God. Saying, “please, don’t take these beloved people away from me”. You do that because in your mind, you’re thinking that God is being unfair. Yet, God separates you, anyway, because His operation must continue. So that your wound can heal, and your bleeding can finally stop.

Accept being seperated from people. Accept solitude. Because, in the end, it’s for your own healing.”
― Mitta Xinindlu

I’m trying to trust the process because I know that the only way to get this over and done with is to go through it. And because I know that whatever this is, it is part of the masterplan that God has for me. I’m desperately trusting in the perfection of God’s plan and His timing. It is VERY difficult though. I think it is the sitting still and the waiting that is getting to me. I thought I was patient. Maybe I’m not as patient as I thought after all.

I’m discovering a lot about myself during this waiting period – what I thought I was and what I actually am and what I’m actually not. It is humbling and I find it very suprising. It’s not to say that I don’t accept the discoveries about myself. because I’m learning to embrace the parts of me that I didn’t know existed — or maybe a better way to say it is that I’m learning to accept the parts of me that I thought were unacceptable because someone said they were. They’re part of the fabric of my personality and I think I actually like the parts of me that I subsumed so that I could keep the peace. I’m glad I can bring them forward again because I am seeing who I am again. For all my faults and foibles, I’m actually okay with that. I can work on what I need to improve.

I’m also trying to lean into the solitude. I think that’s what I’m finding very difficult. Because when one has been part of a unit for such a long time, it is difficult to identify yourself as a solitary being. Part of how I had started to identify myself is that belonging to that unit. I found that realisation quite disconcerting because I thought I was determined to mark myself as independent, anindividual. I remember being determined to establish myself as Yelly, not the granddaughter of General Medina, or the daughter of Dr and Mrs Medina, or my Tita Bing’s niece. I was quite proud that I’d established myself in my life in the UK as me and not who I was related to. I guess that was mostly professionally. Emotional identification was different, I guess. Now that I’m no longer part of that twosome, while I accept that to be a reality (and to be honest, I now know that I will never want to be part of that unit ever again), I think my subconscious is having a difficult time catching up with the status quo. My mind knows it and so does my heart. It’s the emotional muscle memory that needs to follow.

I am now, today, separada de soltera.

@yellywelly
Yelly Writes

The Crown

Yelly

I’m usually the first one to be excited about events involving pomp and circumstance because to me it’s being part of contemporary history, even if it is on the periphery. When the late Queen Elizabeth died, I was glued to the telly for days absorbing the news. I was also constantly looking out the window because Green Park and Buckingham Palace were quite near my office and there was a constant parade of flower tributes being brought to the Palace by members of the public (I nearly got brained by a massive bouquet of sunflowers because this guy was rushing and texting at the same time, not looking where he was going and he kept zigzagging and nearly walked into me with the gigantic yellow blooms – I’m only little!).

While there was (apparently) a build up of excitement for the big day in the country, I wasn’t quite feeling it. I know I’m going to watch the coronation ceremony on telly later, and I’m probably going to get teary-eyed. But I’m feeling very underwhelmed. Maybe because I don’t necessarily like Charles and Camilla (yep. I’m #TeamDiana, always have been). While I agree that everyone deserves happiness and to each his own, etc., etc., I’m still not feeling it (I was, in comparison, more excited for Harry and Meghan’s wedding!). I’m not a royalist, but I am also not a Republican. I believe the British Royal Family serve their purpose and they do bring in a certain amount of tourism and with tourism comes jobs…plus Prince Louis, God bless him!

I didn’t even really go out to take any pictures of the decorations around the capital until yesterday and only because I was near Regent Street. Let’s just say I had other things going on in my life.

But I do wish that Charles gets to do what he wants to do whilst he’s on the throne. He’s waited so very long to become the monarch and it would be such an anti-climax (to him personally, I suppose) if he isn’t able to do the things he wanted to do when he got to the throne. Everyone deserves the chance to fulfill their destiny.

Everyone. Even the King.

@yellywelly