Let's face it, we all have issues with self-image.
This story starts here: One evening I came home from a late shift at work, poured myself a glass of wine and went on the internet.
For some reason I thought it would be a good thing to volunteer to be on a "reality TV" show. It may have been the wine's idea.
The show was about buying houses. At the time, I was thinking of leaving my job and moving either to France or to another part of England. So it seemed the ideal opportunity to get some ideas, maybe even to find the perfect house.
So my daughter and I duly trundled off for our screen test and the next thing we knew we were in Provence (and Suffolk), where we had many adventures... for another time...
Then of course, we were sent a copy of the final edit. I didn't want to watch it. I was terrified, knowing how they can manipulate the footage to make people look like complete idiots. I told myself it didn't matter, I had learnt a lot, that was why I'd done it. If I looked like an idiot, so be it. In any case I was an idiot...
(Though if I'd realised that it would still be showing on obscure satellite channels all over the world, to this day, I might have thought twice)
But when I watched it, I cried and cried. Watching an objective version of myself seen through a third person made me warm so much to this idiot woman, towards whom I have always been so hostile and unforgiving.
She tries so hard. She means so well. She can be quite funny.
She's nice, she really is. She really is.
|On seeing reality.|