a dangerous game
What was brilliant about today?
It was a clear diary day – no courses for the boys, no clients for me! No agenda, no timetables, nowhere to be, nothing to do. The only real obligation is that we have enough food for everyone for supper with the family arriving.
This is literally my ideal day – following the suggestions and the answers of ‘yes’!
Do we want chocolate brownies and ice cream? Yes we do..
Do we want an ice coffee? Yes – delightful with oat milk, please.
Do I want to spend the afternoon on the boat & swimming in the sea? Yes I do!
Would I like an Apérol while we wait for the boat to float? Yes please!
Another one? Ok then!
Do we want to moor alongside Ebb Tide and go for swims? Sounds wonderful!
Will you jump in Aunty Ali? Yes – but I will dive every time!
Will you be videographer while we jump off the iron bridge? Yes, of course..
Would you like apple sauce with your pulled pork? Yes please, lots.
Would you like a glass of rosé to go with that? …. Actually this time I declined… I am fully aware of my limits these days and a long drive tomorrow …
All the good outweighing a couple of minor moments of discontent..
The morning walk when I thought the sea on Porthilly looked so inviting that I thought I would go for a paddle completely forgetting that when it’s low tide, it is like a black bog. Subsequently, Rocky and I lost our legs into the suction squelch and then Rocky disgraced himself by jumping in to someone’s pristine boat leaving a disastrous trail behind him…..
The evening’s talk with Tom when he thought it would be a good idea to take the electric bike to the pub. For a moment, I nearly let him convince me until I remembered the law fearing adult & life fearing mother that I am and despite him being severely put out, I stood my ground, with him towering and glowering over me.
I wonder what time my post script will be tonight?!
And on that note… time to read a chapter of the book I am simply loving - Life Impossible by Matt Haig. I loved the Midnight Library and the multi-verse, this one is proving to be just as intriguing in to the para-normal.
From the last night in this bedroom, to yours… this is your reminder to be brilliant in the boardroom, the bedroom & in your body.
Love always
Ali xo
#remindertobebrilliant #thebrilliantyears #livebrilliantlyalive
I also wrote this today… when I was having a word with myself about whether I should wear my bikini or not…
It’s a Dangerous Game
Just because I’m slim,
just because I take care of my physical body —
that doesn’t mean I don’t do the mental work too.
I still have the hang-ups.
The kind that so many women carry quietly.
The kind that show up when I catch my reflection and see
that my skin isn’t as toned as it once was,
my silhouette not as sleek as it used to be.
I see the dimples.
The stretch marks.
The little muffin top that folds gently over my jeans after a holiday.
Sometimes the jeans are too tight —
and sometimes, so is the pressure.
Because I still hold myself to a standard
that was never really mine.
Maybe the standard of the 1960s or 70s.
Twiggy-thin.
A silhouette shaped by a world that praised disappearing women.
A standard inherited from my Mumbo —
who, as a young woman, fit that mold.
And who, in her own way, wished I would too.
But I never had her body.
And still, her voice lives in my head.
So yes, I do the work.
The inner work.
Every day, I practice choosing love over loathing.
Choosing to see aliveness over flaws.
To honour the woman I am,
at this age, in this season of my life.
Because what if the goal isn’t to look like a model?
What if it’s to feel like myself —
to celebrate health, softness, presence & aliveness?
Because this obsession with shrinking,
with fitting a size 6, 8, 0, whatever number it is now —
it’s a dangerous game.
And I refuse to play it by their rules.
And in truth…
I am the only danger to myself.
I am the one who gets in the way.
The only hindrance to loving this body,
this reflection,
this life I get to live in.
It’s not the magazines.
Not the filters.
Not the girls on the beach.
Not the ghosts of Twiggy or my mother’s hopes.
It’s me.
It’s how I choose to respond.
It’s who I choose to compare myself to.
It’s the voice I choose to turn up
— and the one I finally turn down.
And that?
That’s on me.
But that also means…
Freedom is on me.
Compassion is on me.
Joy is on me.
I can love this body now.
Not when it changes.
Not if it shrinks.
Not if it smooths out or firms up.
But now.
Because I decide how I see her.
And I choose to see her with love.
- sitting on J20 Rock Beach in my bikini
post script at 1:30am - ish
A curfew missed. Many calls taken. “You’re spoiling my fun, Mum!” Sounds like someone else I know. Why do I always have to be the sensible adult?
“Ali is not called The Joy Coach for nothing. She’s the real deal and her energy is infectious.”
