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Fenella has been through the wringer, from fielding her evil nemesis to tackling the minefield of wooing the Doctor of her dreams - she hopes this month she can catch a break...
"Dear Diary, so much has happened I don’t even know where to start.
My karma has been off the charts since I went on a coffee date with Victoria. If I was writing a month ago, at this juncture I would most likely make a snide comment about how she is the human incarnation of a hang-nail; unattractive, irritating and always lurking right there, ruining my manicure and my life.
Pictured: "She is the human incarnation of a hang-nail; unattractive, irritating and always lurking right there, ruining my manicure and my life."
But I’m not going to do that, and do you know why? Because I have detoxed my soul. I have forgiven the woman formerly known as my nemesis, and I have never felt so free. I never realised how much energy I was pouring into hating someone with my entire being until now. Fun fact: long-term, melodramatic grudges are exhausting, and bad for your skin, so it’s a lose-lose situation.
Unburdened and with a newly glowing complexion, I ushered in a new chapter. I made a solemn promise to myself that I would be hate-free, drama-free and gluten-free (a new fad diet Jem has me on – it will never last, but it fits my soul detox aesthetic). I was spending more time with my best gal pals and really enjoying myself. I could actually post pics tagging #livingmybestlife and really mean it – this is basically the plot of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, right?
Pictured: "I was spending more time with my best gal pals and really enjoying myself."
I was feeling and looking like a success story… in every way but one. I still hadn’t spoken to Dr. Dreamboat, and after a week of keeping my composure, it was starting to bum me out, big time.
Just to recap, the latest on my dysfunctional love life: Hottie McDoctorface has gone from wistful man of my dreams to scum of the earth, and has most recently been reinstated as not only the answer to all my prayers but a real, tangible romantic prospect. HE CALLED ME TWICE, PEOPLE. This is 2018, that means we’re basically married. Except for the fact we’re definitely not married, and he’s stopped calling.
Obviously, I didn’t return his missed call – I don’t want him thinking I’m desperate or something. Or maybe, I should call him? But what if he doesn’t like my phone voice? What if he just butt-dialled my number, and he thinks I’m a freak? What would I even say? Confess my undying love for him? No, definitely not. Do I ask him out? No, I won’t do anything, it’s safer. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. Right?
A little dizzy from all the rhetorical questions running through my head, I decided this problem was bigger than myself – I needed to call for backup.
“Mayday-Mayday this is a code red, I repeat a code red. Meet at juice bar at 1100 hours. Bring emotional intelligence… and lip balm (I left mine @ home) Fxxx”
What damsels in distress did before group chats I’ll never know.
Pictured: "What damsels in distress did before group chats I'll never know."
I had assembled my council of power women and explained the situation. Each of them offered phenomenally helpful, but completely contradictory advice…
“Don’t just wait around for him to call you, Nel. What year is this? You have a phone, you have opposable thumbs, you have his number. What’s the problem? Call him and tell him you want to have his babies, and if he can’t handle that, then he’s not worth your time.”
Pros: I take matters into my own hands, I get to be assertive and put all my cards on the table.
Cons: I’m scared. Please don’t make me.
“I just don’t even understand why you like this guy. He’s so vanilla. Trust me, darling, you’re way better off on your own. All he’s done is made you feel like you’re not enough. And you are. You are enough, Fenella. Hell, you’re more than enough. Never let anyone take that away from you, because there is a shining light within you that you must never extinguish by settling for a paediatrician. Do you hear me?”
Pros: Kickass empowerment all round. Make sure that I’m keeping my self-worth top of the list, and reminds me that I deserve the absolute best.
Cons: No Dr. Dreamboat #sadface.
“I think he could well be right for you, but this will be the real test. See if he wants you enough to chase, and in the meantime pull yourself together, and stop obsessing. He’s just a bloke and you have too much self-respect for all this whiny ‘woe-is-me’ nonsense. Get a grip and do some stuff that is all about you.”
Pros: All of the pros.
Cons: I resent being called ‘whiny’, it doesn’t fit with my brand.
As I sipped the rest of my flaxseed and wheatgrass juice (yes, it was as disgusting as it sounds) my power pals’ words were still ringing in my ears. I took a moment of silence to appreciate having such whip-smart, loving and humorous friends who all bring something essential to my not-so-perfect life, and stepped out into the street feeling like my world had just been shifted ever so slightly.
Pictured: "As I sipped the rest of my flaxseed and wheatgrass juice (yes, it was as disgusting as it sounds) my power pals’ words were still ringing in my ears."
What should I do to celebrate my brand new ‘get a grip’ ethos? I could become a life-drawing model. I could learn another language. Get a haircut. Perhaps I’d be good at knitting…
My mind was busy conjuring up images of my take-charge, no-nonsense, self-respecting lifestyle without even so much as a whisper of the words ‘Dr. Dreamboat’ when a rough jolt brought me back to reality. In my daydreaming I’d bumped straight into someone.
“Hello, stranger.”
I looked up. Oh help, I need a Doctor.
Weak at the knees but ever yours,
Fenella xxx"
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