My Dad had a few sayings that have stuck and always helped me: ‘three pin reset’, (for dealing with technology - unplug), ‘don’t let the bastards grind you down’ and ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ being some of my favourites. This year, I have employed all three of these many times. The best thing about having had wonderful parents is that even when they are dead they are still somehow with you, sitting on your shoulder, whispering their sayings in your ear at the most appropriate times.
I’m not pretending that my Dad originated any of these phrases. I do know that the bastards one originated during the second world World War and was later added (in Latin, of course) to the Harvard School song. Margaret Attwood also used the Latin version (illegitimacy non carborundum) in the Handmaids’ Tale and so it became a bit of a feminist aphorism. However, Dad would say it to me whenever I was getting sad or worried about the state of the world. I grew up in the Eighties when we were encouraged to be scared. Russians, nuclear war, Chernobyl, miners strikes, police brutality, the milk snatcher becoming Prime Minister, Falklands War, IRA bombs, coastal erosion, whether the Thames barrier would work, Chinese birth policy, lack of jobs and the dole were just some of the things we worried about. Thank goodness we didn’t have social media then, or I would have been a total wreck. But Dad came to the rescue. The leaflet about how to prepare for nuclear war dropped on the mat and after reading it from cover to cover, I decided that the world was a pretty terrifying place.
“Why do we bother?” I asked Dad, “We’re all doomed anyway. I think I’m having an existential crisis.”
Like a parent who told me her son had used those words the other day, I’m sure he felt the urge to laugh and wasn’t quite sure what to say but it just took him a second.
“Don’t let the bastards grind you down,” he said, “They want you to be scared but you need to keep going, keep learning, keep growing and remember that most people and things are nice.”
I know I’ve mentioned it before, and I apologise if you are as bored of it as I am, but after Mum died I struggled. I had normal grief, PTSD and claustrophobia. All the time I kept hearing Dad’s words, “Fake it ‘til you make it,” in my ears. At first, I faked just wanting to be alive, then with therapy (and particularly EMDR) I faked sparkling. I’ve always faked being an extravert. People are confused when I score really highly as an introvert on personality tests because I’ve pretended so effectively for most of my life.
I took friends out, bought an amazing sparkly dress and had my nails done with a glittery polish. Fake it ‘til you make it!
As you talk about, or write about, your struggles, you start to have conversations with people that make you realise that although your own difficulties are unique, other people can find a comfort and resonance with them. Since writing about general anxiety the other day, so many people have talked to me about their worries. I think that’s good.
The reason our little group has continued our sparkle club isn’t because we are all sparkling but because we need help and encouragement to keep faking it until we make it. We can get together and discuss the thing we find difficult then we can let them go. We can remind each other not to let the bastards grind you down.
I decided that the sparkly nails would be part of my recovery. I have them done, which feels like an extravagance for me. This time, with general anxiety at the state of the world and exhaustion levels from dealing with children who are picking up everyone’s GAATSOTW at an all time high I went for something to really cheer myself up. The nail technician wasn’t sure.
“It’s very bright,” she said, “If you get home and it’s too much let me know and I’ll change it for free. I hope they don’t glow in the dark. You wouldn’t have this for a wedding, though would you?”
Is it wrong that I love them?
In dark times we all need bright, sparkling nails, to help us fake it ‘til we make it and stop that bar starts grinding us down so that we don’t need to try a three pin reset on the world.
If you want to start your own Sparkle Club, these are the rules.
1. Find some nice friends
2. Start a What’s App group
3. Send memes, gifs, emojis of anything that makes you smile. (For us it seems to be beige cardigans, which we resist the urge to slip back into, alcohol and animals)
4. Take at least 4 weeks to find a date everyone can make.
5. Take another week to choose where to go.
6. Book a table.
7. Wear clothes or paint your nails to cheer you up.
8. Sit, eat, drink and talk.
9. Try to stay positive. (Fake it ‘til you make it and don’t let the bastards grind you down)
10. End the evening by saying you must do it more often.
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