The disappearing act that is anything but magic.

The disappearing act that is anything but magic.

Funny. This was going to be a post about how blissfully happy I was.

Yep, surprisingly, ridiculously, over the moon happy.

For the month of Jan, I was alcohol-free, back in the dating game, killing it at work; in control of my life. Things could not have been more magical.

My best friend joked that I should shut down the #STFTL blog “What will you have to write about now that you’re happy?”

SPOILER ALERT: turns out. A fucking LOT! Welcome to the black magic show.

For the last 31 days, I was seeing this guy.

A guy who was all levels of wonderful. He was sweet, kind, thoughtful. He left me voice memos every morning before work and in the evening when he was on his way home. He messaged me while he was at his desk in the office. He called me before he went to sleep at night. He wanted to see me on the weekends. Saturday and Sunday.

We didn’t drink when we were together. There was no need for wine to spark chemistry. We had coffee dates, went for walks in the park and sat for romantic meals. We made out in public. We were intimate behind closed doors.

He pursued me. It was a lot. I liked the attention. I was wary at first. But it was like a drug, the more he gave, the more I wanted. I got used to the interaction, almost like it was normal. I forgot what I did with my time without it. Friends claimed we were in a love bubble. I thought so too. Until that bubble popped, with a bang.

Our relationship escalated quickly, but not in a way where it was ‘too good to be true’, in the way like it was ‘supposed to be’. He met my friends and didn’t seemed rattled, I cooked for him at his place, and he didn’t get food poisoning. I thought to myself: is this what people mean when they have found ‘the one’?

I told myself “Don’t be stupid!” This isn’t ‘the one’. But my god. What if it was? People who end up together, always state “You know, when you know”. Was this the universe letting me know?

There were no games. No bullshit. It just was. Until it wasn’t.

You see as a female, who’s been single for most of her life, you become accustomed to a certain behaviour or lifestyle. You’ve read all the self-help books and watched all the rom-coms. And regardless of what you were brainwashed to believe as a young girl, you know how these things really play out. You’ve learnt the hard way.

When you thought it was right: it was wrong.

When you thought he was into you: he wasn’t.

When you thought it was serious: he just wanted to fuck you.

When you thought it was exclusive: welcome to the other five women he was seeing at the same time.

You remember when you were first blindsided. You recall the moment you first put your wall up. You try to forget the time your heart first snapped in half. These days you look for every one of those signs, to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

To get through this, you tell jokes about only attracting ‘fuck boys’ and how you’re destined to be a cat lady. You make no rules when it comes to dating. You always follow his lead at the start, because you’ve been wrong before. So many times before. 

You now know not to get your hopes up. You’re always waiting for the fall out. You get used to what it’s like to be alone. You train yourself to be comfortable with being alone. 

You preach that you’re not the kind of girl who enters a relationship lightly; but boy, do you want the heavy.

You crave the all-consuming-breath-taking-swept-off-your-feet-music-playing-in-the-background-roll-the-credits heavy feeling of falling for someone, who’s equally falling for you. Dare I write it, you might just want the fairy tale?

You are now tough. Hard. The edges form when you smile, when you say hello, when you laugh loudly at a dinner party.

Deep down you know you only want to be loved and that this toughness you project to the world is just a facade; an armor you built from no one ever really loving you. You now think it’s impossible for someone to love you, because it hasn’t happened yet. You believe it never will.

So, when someone shows you the opposite, that you could be loved. You believe them instead. Almost straight away.

You’re too much. You’re an acquired taste. So, this must be special.

Someone has finally figured out how to want you. How to love you. You’ve been waiting your whole life to be this happy. But you also know your heart can’t cope with misinterpreting the signs again.

You’ve been the giddy one: when you receive a text after the first date. You’ve felt the butterflies: after the first kiss. But you’ve also left his place in tears: after the first time you slept together because what the night was before, is no longer in the light.

So, you’re careful not to get it confused. You’re cautious.

You know these events have made you difficult and bitter and complicated and sad. You know these feelings all too well, like a second skin. You’ve learnt to wear it well though. You now dress it up. Make it look pretty for everyone to see.

You know all of this because this isn’t your first rodeo. You know what you sound like and what you look like when you get caught up in these moments. You know the danger.

You’ve gushed to everyone about ‘the boy’ before and then had to take it back. You’ve seen that look in your friend’s eyes before when you talk about another failed attempt at a relationship. You know what you now put out into the world. You’re jaded.

So, you’re careful, so very, very cautious to not do it again.

Until you do.

Here you go once more, you’re caught up in the ecstasy of it. He’s saying all the right things, he’s doing all the right things, how could you be wrong this time? No, this time it’s real.

You write messages about how cute he is, or how you miss him because there’s no need to hide how you feel; he’s reaching out and responding in the exact same way. You don’t want to think it’s going to end because that’s maybe why it always does? You remain optimistic.

You tell your friends you’re seeing someone because it’s been going on for a while now. You haven’t told all your friends though, just in case. Your past experiences have you always slightly clinging to the ‘just in case’.

You tell yourself to not be negative. Then you constantly fear you’ll ruin it with your insecurities and self-doubt.

What if this goes away? What will you say? What will you do this time? How can you go back to how your life was before?

You don’t want to go back to being the strong girl, the funny girl, the drunk girl, the girl who is excited for her friends but never for herself.

What if it all disappears?

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Well…

When someone decides to disappear, there’s no magic in it at all.

If you were a part of the decision, you’d be brave in front of them and everyone else too. You would come to terms with it eventually. Even though it’s killing you.

If you were a part of the decision, there would be a conversation, a phone call, a voice memo, a text; evidence to loop you in. How the communication began, is how you think it will end. You at least deserve that; you can be adults about it.

Right? No.

When someone decides without you, it’s childish. So, you act like a child. You transform into the narrative of the ‘crazy person’.

There’s no answer. Except the obvious one, that it’s over. You somehow still want answers. But it isn’t wrapped up in a conversation, a phone call, a voice memo, a text… it’s silence. It’s the phone ringing to voicemail, it’s no blue ticks in a Whatapp chat, it’s a simple delete from a dating app.

You follow this with more acts of desperation than you ever care to dial or send or admit but something takes over you. You’re angry. You’re devastated. You act like a two-year-old.

You don’t hold back because there’s nothing left to lose. Except your dignity but you’ve lost that before.

You prove him right, again and again by doing all the things you’d swear you‘d never do; adding to the story line of ‘the psycho girl I used to date’.

You over-justify in your explanations to your friends as to ‘why’ you texted and called so many times, but you don’t tell them all the details because you know you’ve gone too far.

The silence is deafening. But it’s loud. So loud. Why did you get to be ‘the one’ to decide? How are you making this bold move but dancing like a coward at the same time?

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Hang on a minute. Why don’t I just accept it? And move on?

For so long you’ve claimed that you wouldn’t ‘settle for average’, that you’d rather be ‘alone than lonely’ in a relationship. So, what the fuck are you doing giving into this shit?

You’d tell your friend she didn’t deserve this, that it’s for the best he disappeared!! So why the hell are YOU being like this?

Because. Because you knew things had changed. You asked him, you gave him an out; offering multiple doors to exit. But he said no, everything is fine. So, you believed him. You put it down to being paranoid again.

You’re embarrassed, humiliated that you’re so emotional over someone who’s blatantly disregarded you.

But slow your roll sister, you’ve had this before.

Right? Yes.

So, why is this still destroying you?

Because. Because the little girl inside of you is struggling to figure out how she could once again fall for someone so sweet, so kind, so thoughtful. A person who is now this kind of evil.

You attack yourself first. Over think. Over analyse.

Because he set the pace and you went along for the ride.

You only expected him to message because he messaged you all the time. You couldn’t put the phone down without another vibration. You only expected him to call because he called you all the time. Like that time he drove back and forth to Brighton. You only expected to see him this weekend because there was a time when he wanted to see you every weekend. Saturday and Sunday. 

Making plans became your ‘go to dialogue’. Plans for your birthday, plans for Valentine’s Day, plans for Christmas, the future…

Nevertheless, you were deleted from his world, as fast as you were let in. You were hopeful, fearless, happy, though you were wrong, once again. 

One Thursday afternoon, after I messaged you ‘Freezing! How’s your day?’ You went away.

I doubled checked if I sent too many messages in a row. Was I now asking too much? No, I was responding to your message of ‘How cold are you this morning?’ I go back to our last phone conversation. Had I said too much? No, we chatted about mundane things like what you had for dinner.

You went away. You decided you were done. You decided not to tell me why. It didn’t make sense. So, my ugly grew.

I’m not proud of what was next. I will always regret how I reacted to you finishing it.

I thought if I spat enough venom, you’d get fed up and finally bite back. I’d hear from you. I’d hear the words, instead of the words and reasons and scenarios I’m making up in my mind. But I know nothing.

There’s one thing I do know though. I swear that this would never have been my reaction to a rational, respectful, honest end.

The disappearing act is not a magical thing. It’s designed to point out your flaws and faults. It’s designed to make you think it was all your doing. Because that’s what you do when someone disappears, you blame yourself first.

The only magic that actually appears, is the proof that this was never right to begin with. But that doesn’t matter at the time.

The disappearing act comes in many forms, it can be the loss of one’s feelings; off it goes like a switch. The blocking of a mobile number; off it goes like a switch. The flip of your stomach; off it goes like a switch. The youth of today call it ‘ghosting’; off it goes… nope it doesn’t work for that one.

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The problem with ghosts though, they haunt you.

Where did you go? Where did we go? What did I do? Will this haunt me forever?

I know sometimes it’s easier to just disappear. But all it really does is just prolong the toxic finale; tarnishing anything that was ever good or decent between you both. It encourages a monster to appear from the cloud of smoke and act out in a disgraceful way. Because there’s no grace in disappearing. There’s no applause.

It’s gutless. It’s cruel. It’s not necessary.

The only thing worse than being broken up with, is realising that someone didn’t even consider to break up with you.

Next time someone says it ended badly because ‘they were mental’, ‘they wouldn’t stop messaging me’. Ask yourself why they went mental, why they wouldn’t stop contacting that person. Ask yourself if you want to be next?

My only regret is I believed his version of the events. I’m ashamed that I believed him over her. I should have believed her.

Tonight, I write a post about how miserable I am. How utterly depressed these series of events have made me.

You disappeared. You are a ghost to me now. And I should be thankful for that. I will one day be thankful. Sadly, it’s not today.

Yep, unlike the fairy tales, not everything that happens to you as a grown woman has a ‘happily ever after’. So, no best friend, this blog will exist. The fairy tales are still lying to me.

Are they lying to you too?

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Carmela is an Aussie in London with wanderlust. A TV/Radio rebel. Fierce feminist. Loud laugh-er. Emotional eat-er. Pop culture cat. Red wine wooer and karaoke kween. She hopes that her experiences are just like yours, funny, warm, loud, raw and that maybe you can figure out this thing called ‘life’ together. #YasssKween 🙌🏼

Happily Ever After? Guest Kween: JANE CONNORS

Happily Ever After? Guest Kween: JANE CONNORS

To celebrate #STFTL’s one year anniversary, we’re checking in on some of our favourite Kweens and Kings.

What are these gems up to now? And how much can really change in a year? So…

Hey there Kweens!

You might remember me from such blog posts as:

  • Make Your Own Damn Rules!
  • Don’t live anywhere! 
  • Be single! 
  • Quit your job! 
  • Girl power YAHHHHH!! 

It’s been awhile since we last I wrote this and well, I still don’t live anywhere. I really, really wanted to get myself a home this year but life didn’t work that way. So that’s 18 months and counting. I’ve managed to get through another year on contract work and have avoided getting a ‘proper job’ HUGE WIN.

I also turned 40. It was bloody wonderful. I wore a big pink tutu and was surrounded by people I love. Kylie Kwong sang me Happy Birthday. I didn’t even know I wanted that to happen: but it was the best thing ever. Turning 40. Tick that one off.

I remember turning 30 and really coming into my own about who I was. Turning 40 was that on steroids. I feel like life has become real.

Here are some things I’ve worked out. Sit back for some advice from your older, wiser Kween!

DON’T FIT IN. DO YOU 

I no longer have time for trying to fit into this life. For doing things the way we are told. For meaningless conversations. For buying stuff I don’t need. I don’t want the same things I once did. They say your new life will cost you your old one. And hasn’t it what!

We are given a single story-line on what makes a good life. Just the one. And it’s not for me.

Choose YOU. Don’t run with the status quo, if that’s not what’s in your heart.

Get married. Don’t get married. Have kids or don’t. Become a lawyer, become an artist, work in a shop: so, you can get home to your family and not answer emails at all hours. You have all the choices in the world. Make them. But make sure they’re your choices, not something you’ve been told to want.

The world is your goddamn oyster!

Sidenote: Don’t question someone else’s choices. Don’t force your beliefs on them. We are all so different. Let’s just be different. Let’s celebrate that.

Other sidenote: Oysters are disgusting. 

BE SINGLE. OR DON’T BE.

I no longer think of being single as less than. I’m bloody happy. Being alone feels like freedom to me. Being in a relationship could feel the same to someone else.

I’m sure if I met a guy who brought me coffee in bed and liked to get to airports really super-duper early (like when the bag drop is just open) then maybe I’d sign up for this love stuff too. But I’m not going out searching for him because I think I need that.

You don’t need it. It’s nice but you don’t need it.

HAVE KIDS. OR DON’T.

I never wanted children and I always worried I’d regret it. But I know now I won’t. To quote Cameron Diaz: “The one thing I know is that I’m not childless. I have a ton of children in my life. It’s not like I’m the spinster who didn’t have a child. I just didn’t do that in life, and I’m OK with that. I know the choices I’ve made. I know why I made them.”

I love that quote. 

I am not childless.

BE YOUR OWN HERO. NON-NEGOTIABLE.

I started my 40th year with SO MANY PLANS! But life had other plans. It always does. I swear life must laugh at my New Year’s resolutions each year. This year has brought me to my knees. I have cried more than I can remember.

My stepmum died this year. We found out she had cancer and she died within a month. Just like that. It felt like she just disappeared. My stepbrother died two months before that. He was my age. 40. And he died.

It was the second son my stepmum had lost. To see her afterwards; there are no words for that level of grief. My stepsister and brother have lost two brothers and their mum. That seems like an exceptionally unfair amount of pain.

But pain doesn’t work like that.

I sit here today and it feels like spring is coming. It’s coming and people are missing from my life but it’s coming anyway. Winter always ends.

So, for now: I give myself permission to be changed by the events of my life. You can’t be the same person after such a huge loss. But you can get back up when you’re on your knees.

You are stronger than you know. Choose to be strong. Choose to see the light in the dark.

Don’t avoid the pain. It’s meant for you. Let it leave you with the fuel to do more and be more. Let it have meaning.

We all get dealt bad blows. And when you do, you are acutely aware of people going through worse.

Life is always both. The good, the bad, the dark, the light. When you’re going through the dark times, remember the light. Try and find it. It’s always there.

Sometimes your life choices help you in ways you never thought about. Not having a permanent home has let me be there for my family so much more. Working as a contractor meant that I could work anywhere. I have been able to be physically present when it mattered and I could not have done that working a 9 to 5 job. This was not what I was thinking about when I made those choices but that was the outcome and I am blessed because of that.

It sounds cliché but you have to be grateful. Because when the sh*t hits the fan, people do amazing things.

I am grateful for all the love I’ve received this year. For the friends who have loved me through it. Who have made me laugh in spite of everything.

I have a beautiful memory of sitting by the water with a girlfriend and trading war stories about this past year. And all I could see was her light and all she could see was mine. That’s what life is about.

Being human hurts at times. Let it. Because it’s so beautiful too.

Jane is a freelance tour/event manager in the health world and has been lucky enough to work with some of her biggest heroes and inspirations. She has technically been homeless for 18 months now and hopes 2019 is the year she learns to sit still. But she will most definitely freak out if she signs a lease. She loves laughing, saying ‘wot?’ and knows all the best people in the world.

13 reasons why (I love myself sick).

13 reasons why (I love myself sick).

1. I’m not ashamed to order a small family’s worth of McDonalds and to tell the cashier that I’m pregnant. So they make it fresh.

2. I’m not ashamed to spend an entire sunny bank holiday weekend on my friend’s couch, binging on episodes of ‘Love Island’. While eating a whole tub of Nutella.

3. I’m not ashamed to have had at one time only £12 in my bank account and to have spent that on humous, cheese and bread. The good bread!

4. I’m not ashamed that I ball my eyes out like a baby every time I watch Will Smith in the ‘Pursuit of Happiness’. Every. Time.

5. I’m not ashamed that if I want to look 5 pounds lighter, I think of getting a spray tan but then chicken out because that means standing in front of a perfect stranger naked. Exercise also never presents it’s self as the best option.

6. I’m not ashamed that the only thing I can successfully cook in the kitchen is a salad and a toasted cheese sandwich. I once called my Mother and asked her how to boil pasta. 🤦🏻‍♀️

7. I’m not ashamed that the only time I ever shave my lady parts is when I think I might be gettin’ some. So rarely.

8. I’m not ashamed that on one particular day, the only time I left the house was just to buy donuts. And successfully ate 4 in one sitting.

9. I’m not ashamed that recently I was so hungover that I ordered Deliveroo 3 times in one day. From the same restaurant. That restaurant may or may not have been McDonalds as well.

10. I’m not ashamed to respond with ‘sorry I’m busy tonight’ when all I’m doing is heading home to wash my hair and pop my pjs on. And watch Love Island.

11. I’m not ashamed to take myself out for a dinner and a show. Solo dining is liberating AF! Even when you have to respond “No, just just me” when the waiter says “Table for 2?”

12. I’m not ashamed to have 3 different dating apps on my phone and that I still gush over a guy, if he shows me the slightest bit of attention. Seriously. Yesterday a guy emailed me at work and I had zero chill about it. A fucking email!

13. I’m not ashamed that I was ashamed about these silly little things in my twenties. How fucking cool is it to be in your thirties?

How fucking cool is slowly giving zero fucks about the stuff that would of had you stay indoors or kept you up at night when you were younger?

There is something fucking cool about slowly settling into your own skin and scars. There is something fucking cool about staring at your flaws and imperfections and charging forward anyway because you now know there are other parts of you that are just as flawless and perfect; and that needs to be celebrated too!

Oh the wonder of simply sitting with your own quirks and weirdo moments, without needing someone else to validate them. The bliss of having the ability to feel really good and not good at the same time, because let’s be honest, happiness is not a destination.

No matter how hard we try, we will never arrive at ‘happy’. We’ll drive past it, around it, and stop at it, many times. What’s fucking cool is how we’ve also learnt what to do when we arrive at the other stops, like ‘uncertainty’, ‘misery’ and ‘devastation’.

If getting older simply means loving yourself sick just a little more every day and pulling through the ugly stuff with gusto; then bring that shiz onnnn!

I also encourage you to make a *list. It sounds small and pointless but give it a go. I promise not only will you feel better but at the very least, have a good chuckle at your fine self.

Yasss Kween!

Big love,

Carmela

*Your list may not have as many food references as mine. I mean, if loving carbs is wrong, I don’t want the be right! Riiiight? #Guilty 💁🏻‍♀️

Introducing Carmela Contarino, the #PowerKween behind ‘So The Fairy Tales Lied…’ 👸🏻♥️✨

Carmela is an Aussie in London with wanderlust. A TV/Radio rebel. Fierce feminist. Loud laugh-er. Emotional eat-er. Pop culture cat. Red wine wooer and karaoke kween. She hopes that her experiences are just like yours, funny, warm, loud, raw and that maybe you can figure out this thing called ‘life’ together. #YasssKween 🙌🏼

Kween Krush: TONI PHILLIPS “(Lost) It Girl!”

Kween Krush: TONI PHILLIPS “(Lost) It Girl!”

Kween Krush alert!! This is where we celebrate everyday women for being complete badass Wonder Women.

Toni, we have a crush on you and it’s not just because you’re one of London’s It Girls or a dreamy DJ with legs for days, it’s mostly how you completely own your ‘sexy’. From your effortless style, cool AF demeanor and hip social life, we’re just utterly obsessed with how you run your shit! We’re equally impressed with how you’re also always up for a laugh and ain’t afraid to tell it how it is!

Yep! You seem to give zero fucks when it comes to what you wear, showing off your body and embracing your sex appeal. Do you recommend more women ooze this confidence?

Well yeah, why on earth not? I do of course have days where I hide under baggy clothes, but I also have days where I’m like: “Hey, you know what? Here’s my stomach everyone.”

I went to Wireless Festival in basically my underwear because I was still hungover from the day before and really didn’t care. I’m not saying that people need to get hungover in order to walk about in lace in public, but I guess I’m just trying to say that confidence is really a state of mind, or the state of your mind. And who controls that? Well, it’s you! So as long as you’re happy in yourself and not harming anyone else, I think you earn the right to do as you please.

Is wearing your ‘sass on your sleeve’ something that came naturally to you? Or did you have to hustle for it?

I think I’ve always had that, although some might describe it as ‘not thinking before I speak’. From a young age, I’ve wanted to make people laugh because I believed that was the best way to win someone over. I’ve always spent more time working on my personality than on how I look.

You always seem to be out and about and living your best life! Is your motto ‘work hard, play harder’?

Erm, well that’s all really just an illusion. Nothing on social media is reality, but I think everyone knows that. I stay in a lot and have gym days. I’ll go to classes, head home and do nothing, but I guess from a social media perspective it would look like I’m out a lot because I just choose to show the fun stuff I do, not me at home stress-eating quinoa straight out of the bag. I suppose I do go out more than most, but I’m lucky because of what I do. My job gives me the chance to get invited to cool events and stuff. I love live music, but I also love going to the local pub with some of my best friends just as much.

What does ‘sexy’ mean to you and what do you find most sexy about women and men?

It’s subjective, like everything is… I’m a big fan of personality though: I’m aware that’s what really counts. I find charisma much sexier than a posed picture or a risqué outfit. Sure, I find the Playboy Instagram account sexy; those girls are so hot, however, if they were fully clothed in tracksuits but were making me laugh that would be equally – if not more – sexy to me. Same with guys.

What’s your view on the theory that women are just as sexually charged as men but have to hide it?

I’ve never heard that before. Is that actually a thing? I don’t think girls have to hide it. I certainly don’t hide it. I probably do the opposite of hiding it, I overshare everything. I will happily tell a sex story and leave nothing to the imagination. Who wants prudes in 2018?

What’s your opinion on the dating game? Are we out of our element now with hooking-up being too accessible thanks to dating apps like Tinder and Bumble?

It’s weird. I mean, it was. Now it’s normal. There’s nothing wrong with it and it’s not anything to be ashamed of, but it’s strange how so many people are meeting on apps. I’ve met all the guys I’ve been seeing over the last few years in person, so I feel like the odd one out. When any of my friends are stressing about having to resort to the apps I just explain how it’s a different world now – it’s a different generation. I have no qualms about sliding into the DMs on Insta. I’ve spoken to some hot guys that way! I used Tinder once years ago, but it was really more like playing a game to me. Never met anyone from it. I do hear some really nice Tinder stories though, as well as some which are hilarious, and some which are frankly terrifying. So really, it’s whatever works for you!

Do you think it still takes courage to be sexually liberated these days? Or is that old news?

I think in the fifties it was courageous to be sexually liberated, but not so much now. Perhaps there are boring sections of the Twitter community that might take time out of their lives to offer their unwanted disapproval. Such as these so-called ‘feminists’ who have single handedly made traditional feminism something that nobody really wants to be associated with by picking on girls who choose to make a career from their sexual liberation. But those kinds of people are of little interest to me. I think anything goes now.

Ten years ago, Jodie Marsh went out wearing a belt over her tits and a t-shirt with the names of all her conquests on. So when you’ve grown up seeing that kind of thing splashed all over the news, you’re probably only going to go one way. I mean, it’s not necessarily gonna encourage you to do the same; my friends and I certainly didn’t start walking around like that, but if that is the more extreme end of the scale, it means you can do something which you consider sexually liberating and it wouldn’t even register. If that makes sense? Basically, if in doubt whip ‘em out! You know you want to.

Do the the terms ‘one-night-stand’ and ‘multiple-sex-partners’ empower you or annoy you?

If they didn’t apply to me then yes, they’d annoy me massively. I’m just kidding, of course – but not really. If I was reading an article and a female was described as having ‘multiple sexual partners’ I’d just think good on you girl. I choose to let people live, so long as it’s safe and not hurting anyone. And there ain’t nothing wrong with a one-night-stand. What if you didn’t set out for it to be? Maybe you would have seen them again but it didn’t happen? Maybe you just woke up the morning after the night before sober and you didn’t connect? Not really a big deal is it? It’s just a term to me.

Have you ever been slut-shamed for acting exactly the way men do?

Not to my face. I don’t think so, but to be honest I’d have owned it first anyway. If someone were to attempt to shame me, it would be very likely that I’d have already acknowledged it in a more interesting and louder way than they could. So it’s hard to see why anyone would bother trying.

You’re a presenter on Capital XTRA, a voice-over artist and a DJ in an industry that’s hard to get noticed and survive in. Mind sharing some of your secrets to success?

Well firstly, I’ve been doing it for a long time since I was very young, so I think that definitely helps. When I was about 21 I was on a huge radio station and doing all the big music shows on TV. Sadly, it went to my head a bit to be honest. I thought I was the shit, and I can confirm that if you walk around thinking you’re the shit, that’s just not going to work out well for you. As a presenter, likeability and relatability are both kind of important. Perhaps I wasn’t mature enough to be graceful and appreciative of the opportunities I had been given, and my boss at the time didn’t really tolerate egos like that; it wasn’t the radio station for that kind of attitude. I realised very quickly that acting like that may work for a while, but not for long. These days I always witness in others the mistaken notion of self-importance I once adopted, and it predictably leads to their downfall. They’re here today, gone tomorrow.

The secret to success? Be nice to people, it’s not hard to do. And concentrate on the actual job – the one that pays your bills, not all the other fake shit around it. Having said that, I would guess about 90% of the people I know have all purchased fake followers on social media, and it’s seemingly kinda worked for them. Turns out people are believing the hype, but the trouble is you need to have the talent to back it up.

I didn’t have social media when I was starting out, I was simply hired for being good at what I do, and I guess that’s how I survived. My advice: don’t buy fake bits of attention, because it means nothing. And don’t be a dick. It sounds easy, but you’d be surprised.

You’re the creator of the blog LostItGirl, what message are you trying to convey here and who the hell is ‘LostItGirl’?

LostItGirl was originally my alter-ego I suppose, but since it gained in popularity it’s something that I have taken a back seat with and have left to the professionals. I still have an involvement, but it’s now in the hands of people far more interesting and clever at the internet than I.

I started the blog because I found a lot of radio presenters had blogs and honestly, they were all so boring. Just boring stories about boring stuff and I could’t get past a sentence without wanting to cry at how dull and narcissistic it all was. So I created a character who has that bit of crazy in her that we all have, and I tried to centre it around offering a bit of tongue-in-cheek advice based on my own experiences.

Some of the stories are true, some are made up, but everything is exaggerated. It can’t be taken seriously and it’s certainly not for everyone. But I will say some of the people behind it now are guys, so legitimately some of the advice is great on there because you get both a female and male perspective.

Any dating deal breakers or dating disasters you want to confess to? 

Millions. You’d have to read my blog for that. We simply don’t have the space here.

What women are you krushing on at the moment and why?

I love Bella and Gigi, which is a cliché I know. But I like their style. I’ve always held Victoria Beckham in high esteem. She’s chic, funny and she understands the power of being dignified in silence when faced with people who want to trash her and her private life. There’s so much dignity and grace in saying nothing. The world is full of angry little people who love to talk and threaten, but who just end up embarrassing themselves. I also like Kylie Jenner. I think she’s hilarious, but I don’t think she means to be. She’s an accidental genius. I’ve got a lot of time for her.

What tunes should we be listening to right now?

I’m liking Cardi B. Aside from that, it’s best you just listen to Capital XTRA between 1-4pm (that’s when I’m on in case that was unclear).

Any tips on how to ‘rock what you’ve got’ and love yourself (even on your darkness days?)

Everyone needs to stop caring so much about what people they’ve never met think about them because it’s really not that deep. A good tip I think for 2018 would be that if you are having a day when you feel ugly, maybe just don’t post a social media that day. I love a day off socials.

Be yourself, understand that people are and always have been mean, and it’s usually because they are in love with you but can’t admit it. There’s also a lot of jealousy which manifests itself in such a way that those who are will do their best to deny this to themselves by telling you that you’re a piece of shit. It’s whatever. Just do you, and those that are worthwhile knowing will naturally gravitate towards you. Also, hang out with more animals. Animals are cool, humans are generally not very cool at all.

Carmela and Toni used to work together at the same radio station in London. Initially Carmela was too shy to introduce herself to Toni because she thought Toni was the f**king tits and was not at all in her realm of awesomeness. Thank god Carmela finally mustered up the courage to say hi because it’s been love and lols ever since.

For your daily dose of cheek and chic follow Toni on Twitter here!

“Will you be my Palentine?”

“Will you be my Palentine?”

As a single female in her thirties I’m sure you would expect, considering it’s Valentine’s Day, that this would probably be a rant about how I don’t have a man to send me flowers or take me out on a romantic dinner date, it being just another day that highlights that I am still on the shelf, rejected by the opposite sex. Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not what this is at all. The way I see it, even couples who have been dating for years or are even married don’t treat Valentine’s day like it’s marketed to be treated, instead they cry the cliché “National Hallmark Day” and go about the day as per normal. No teddy bears, no heart shaped boxes filled with chocolate, not even a decent shag. Then again, if you happen to find yourself in a relationship that does do those things on Valentine’s Day then well done, bravo, I condone that behaviour. But from my perspective, no I don’t feel excluded or that I’m missing out; if anything I wanted to take this chance to acknowledge the kind of love that I do have in my life.

Recently I went back home to Australia to spend time with my family. What I noticed was that I don’t have a great relationship with my sister or brother: we’re like aliens from different planets that struggle to communicate with each other. My relationship with my parents is the stock-standard relationship that you have with your parents: fueled with unconditional love but riddled with conflict based on being generations apart. As for my childhood friends, the more I’m away from them, the more those relationships become strained due to the lack of time invested. So, I’m left with a group of people that I now call “My people”; a family that I have created for myself.

In my thirties, I’m starting to realise the things that are really important, and the meaning of ‘life’ seems to ring louder than it did in my twenties. In a way I loathe this, mostly because when I was in my twenties ‘older’ people would say this to me all the time. “Oh you’re only 25? Trust me when you’re in your thirties you’ll know what life is really about.” “When you’re 30, you won’t feel this way.” I resented their wisdom based on me seeing it as an insult of how ‘young’ and ‘naïve’ I was, but the truth of the matter is, I was young and naïve, especially when it came to ‘life’ and ‘life lessons’.

In my thirties I now see that it doesn’t matter how many friends show up to my Birthday party, or how big my circle of friends is but how many friends I can call in the middle of the night in a panic or if I’m having a crisis will pop around to my home or meet me at the pub in a matter of minutes. I’ve always been a person who has put everyone else in my life first. I’ve always worried, cared, loved my friends much more than I actually think they worry, care and love me in return. In my thirties, I no longer want those people in my life, selfishly I need this to be a two-way street, what I put out I deserve to get back in return. Or at least it’s healthy to recognize the friends that do do this (and may always have).

So, this is a shout-out to my pals. Will you be my Palentine? I have a group of people currently in my life and I want to show a great deal of gratitude towards them. These people know who they are. Kelly, Jane, Paul and Mikey to just name a few.

Thank you for taking my neurotic phone calls.

Thank you for hearing my way over-thought thoughts.

Thank you for just hearing me. Even when I’m being outrageous, you know me, so you know what my reaction is really about.

Thank you for being patient when our catch-ups are mostly dominated with my day-to-day silly dramas.

Thank you for making me feel sane when the rest of world is constantly testing my sanity.

Thank you for making me laugh when I want to just cry.

Thank you for loving me in a way I sometimes forget I deserve to be loved.

So, I ask again, “Will you be my Palentine?” Because I want to let you know that being my pal is everything to me these days. I know that ‘Galentine’s Day’ is now a thing thanks to the TV show ‘Parks And Recreation’ but I don’t want to reserve this honour for just the women in my life but the male friendships I have too, because they are bloody fantastic ones.

Yes, I will choose to spend today acknowledging the great loves that are in my life. I will also choose to acknowledge that the great loves in my life don’t have to just be the opposite sex. I can and will celebrate the love I have with my dearest friends like Jenna, Effie and Bel, my oldest friends like Asha, Leon, Caitlyn and Pippa, the friends I don’t see all the time but crazy support me like Ronnie, Yvie, and Lyndsey, my new friends since moving to London, my colleagues, my cousins, my aunties, my nephew, my niece, the close relationship I have with my Mother. I can just celebrate love in general because I am truly surrounded by it, I just need to recognize it when it is staring me in the face.

I guess that song is true Kweens: when you’re open to it, love really is all around.

Carmela

x

Introducing Carmela Contarino, the #PowerKween behind ‘So The Fairy Tales Lied…’ 👸🏻♥️✨

Carmela is an Aussie in London with wanderlust. A TV/Radio rebel. Fierce feminist. Loud laugh-er. Emotional eat-er. Pop culture cat. Red wine wooer and karaoke kween. She hopes that her experiences are just like yours, funny, warm, loud, raw and that maybe you can figure out this thing called ‘life’ together. #YasssKween 🙌🏼

Screw having a New Year’s resolution.

Screw having a New Year’s resolution.

Dear Kweens,

I’ll try and keep this short as we’re on the cusp of a New Year and there’s plenty of bubbles, laughter, dancing and misbehaving to be had.

But I wanted to share something with you and hope in doing so, I will not only help you but help myself.

Every time it gets to this point of the year I ask the same 3 questions.

“Have I done enough this year?”

“Was it more than I did the year before?”

And lastly…

“How can I evolve again next year?” Basically, what can I change about myself?

And for all the achievements and life goals accomplished, maybe this was my biggest problem all along: this ridiculous competition and constant struggle with myself. I mean, as if the temptation of comparing yourself with the rest of the world wasn’t draining enough. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted.

So here I started to go again, picking at what went wrong, despising myself over not just the big things but the little things too (like my point of view in conversations or the bad jokes I had told), putting myself down, sizing myself up against this and that. And speaking of size, this also includes looking back on what I was wearing last year verses this year. Putting a whole bunch of clothes to the side of the wardrobe that I never got to wear again, even though I swore this would be the year I’d fit back into them. Examining how many more bumps and lumps and marks have formed on my body and despite all my talk, how I’ve once again done nothing about it, if not, just contributed to it more.

Now, not that self-development and self-growth aren’t necessary, but I guess it’s whether it’s necessary in spades and with such scrutiny; especially when’s it’s coming from deep inside. What about self-love?

If you too are single, in your 30s and scarily reaching the high-end of that age bracket, I encourage we try something a little different next year.

Let’s make our resolution to not change what we don’t like but to accept it instead.

Let’s embrace who we are.

Yep. Let’s grow ‘fully’ into our own skin.

Let’s be so much on the side of comfortable that it could also be a little too uncomfortable.

I know it’s cliche as hell and I’m not the first female to lead this charge but let’s fucking love-the-shit-out-of-ourselves, shall we?

I mean utterly and totally and unapologetically love ourselves.

Let’s be our own best friend.

Christ, let’s date ourselves! Take ourselves out for walks, to the movies, to dinner…

Let’s take the time to look after ourselves as much as we look after everyone else.

Let’s give the pep talks that we give to our nearest and dearest to ourselves every time life gets a little too hard next year.

Let’s try and I mean god damn try to burst with pride and celebrate even the little-wins. And every now and then let’s stop and reflect on just how far we’ve come or what we’ve overcome; especially if you’re doing it on your own.

What’s a Kween without her King you ask? Well, historically speaking, more powerful. But that power can only come from within my friend. You can’t buy it, you can’t eat it, you can’t drink it, you can’t smoke it, you can’t force it. You need to have a quiet word with you body and mind, and remind it that it is enough. Because, you are enough.

Good luck next year, my Kweens. May we learn to appreciate every flaw, crease, nook and cranny in our life, personality and body; from the top of our crown-wearing head, right down to our fat baby toe.

Be brave. Be bold. Be you.

Big love,

Carmela

x

Introducing Carmela Contarino, the #PowerKween behind ‘So The Fairy Tales Lied…’ 👸🏻♥️✨

Carmela is an Aussie in London with wanderlust. A TV/Radio rebel. Fierce feminist. Loud laugh-er. Emotional eat-er. Pop culture cat. Red wine wooer and karaoke kween. She hopes that her experiences are just like yours, funny, warm, loud, raw and that maybe you can figure out this thing called ‘life’ together. #YasssKween 🙌🏼

Things people say to single thirty-something year olds.

Things people say to single thirty-something year olds.

“What do you mean you can’t afford it? It’s not like you’ve got 3 kids to feed at home?”– No, I don’t. Thank you Capitan Obvious. But that doesn’t mean things aren’t expensive for me too. I’m responsible for my rent, my bills, my groceries (which don’t come at a ‘discount rate’ because I’m single) and I don’t have the luxury of sharing those costs with someone else.

“I don’t know how you travel so much, don’t you want to buy a house?”– To quote the little Mexican girl in Old El Paso ad, “Why don’t we have both?” It doesn’t have to be one, or the other. And even if I wasn’t traveling so much, I’m sure all my money would be going on smashed-avo-on-toast right?

“You’re soooo lucky, you have all this free time to yourself, you get to do whatever you want.”- Yes, I do. That’s my choice. You had that option too and you chose a different lifestyle. Accept it. The grass isn’t always greener.

“I wish I had your life. I miss having one-night stands.”- Ha! I spend most weekends at home. I hardly ever go out. I haven’t been to a club since Ja Rule was a thing. I’ve had sex once this year.

“Let me go on your Tinder and choose a guy for you.”- Oh, what a fun ‘game’ for you. Go ahead.

“Do you think you’re just too fussy? Loosen up a bit and date someone!”- Forgive me for not throwing myself in front of every bachelor. If choosing to be single over shacking-up with ‘Basic Barry’ (because I don’t fear being alone) is wrong, sue me.

“So, why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Followed by “Oh my god, don’t get a boyfriend, they’re so annoying.”- Stop asking single people ‘why’ they don’t have a boyfriend. 98% of the single-population don’t know why and the other 2%, well… be prepared for a 5-hour conversation about dating apps, how dating is harder these days, how no one dates anymore etc. Also, there’s no need to play-down your relationship in front of your single friends. You’ll find most of your single friends are happy that you’re in a relationship- even if they’re not in one. Seriously.

“So, don’t you want kids?” Followed by “Honestly, don’t do it, kids are the worst, mine is being such a little shit today.”- You don’t have to talk your single friends into having kids. You also don’t have to tell them about the bad stuff in order to make them feel better about not having kids. Single people aren’t getting around all ‘single’ because they don’t want to reproduce. For some, that might be the case, but majority of singletons just haven’t found someone they want to start a family with yet. And some are struggling to get to the 3rd date stage, let alone the baby-making stage. OR maybe, just maybe they’re not ready yet and have other things they want to get out of the way first. Like, numerous Sunday bottomless brunches that involve smashed-avo-on-toast.

“Can we go on a girls night? I just wanna get drunk and do random stuff like you.”- I’m in bed by 7pm most nights. Is that random enough for you?

“Are you one of those weird feminist types? When will you people stop complaining?”- You first.

“Are you a lesbian?”- Lol! I wish. But since your sexuality isn’t a choice, let’s just settle for the fact that it’s not as simple as switching teams and Bob’s your uncle, your single days are over. Thanks anyway Detective Dickhead.

So to conclude, try some of these instead…

“Wanna just have a night at home instead? I can’t afford to go out and you probably can’t as well?”

“Where are you off to next?”

“I’m free this weekend, let’s drink all the wine!”

“Fuck, how shit is Tinder? And how many dic pics are you gettin’ on the reg? Not cool man!”

“Hey, congratulations on surviving any single-person stereotypes today!”

“Screw the haters, you do you boo!”

“You’re amazing and your life is amazing just the way it is.”

“Slay girl, slay all day!!”

Ok, ok. I think you get my point. 😉

Big love,

Carmela

x

Introducing Carmela Contarino, the #PowerKween behind ‘So The Fairy Tales Lied…’ 👸🏻♥️✨

Carmela is an Aussie in London with wanderlust. A TV/Radio rebel. Fierce feminist. Loud laugh-er. Emotional eat-er. Pop culture cat. Red wine wooer and karaoke kween. She hopes that her experiences are just like yours, funny, warm, loud, raw and that maybe you can figure out this thing called ‘life’ together. #YasssKween 🙌🏼