3 Mini Stories

3 mini stories, personal essay blog, this stuff is golden, scottish blogger, mental health blogger, mental health blogger uk,

new and old

In year 7 I walked to and from school. It was about 40 minutes each way, which was way more walking than I had ever done. I remember after one of the first walks home, I arrived to my house completely red in the face, overheated and exhausted. Eventually it was fine though.

I was walking with a friend from primary school, a best friend, however our friendship was sinking. We walked with some other girls, new and old friends of my friend, and I was very much feeling like a third (or fifth) wheel.

One afternoon, my friend’s mum was actually able to pick her up in their car. Everyone could fit in that car except me, obviously. The group awkwardly said about one of them walking with me, so that I wasn’t on my own. The new friend of my friend volunteered. I remember feeling so embarrassed, like I was such a sad case, that I said to her; “Sorry you got the short straw.” I don’t remember much of the walk home with her, but I remember feeling like the biggest loser on the planet.


gut instinct

I was invited as a plus one to go to a house party, full of university students. I was perhaps 19 years old at the time – the students were of the same age or slightly older. My boyfriend was 21. I was a bit nervous, but kinda felt powerful about going, especially with my first serious boyfriend.

There’s a photo of us somewhere, maybe in the cloud I dunno, sitting on a sofa at this party, cups in hand. My boyfriend chatted to his friends and I was very quiet most of the time, just laughing along at some points of the conversations. I noticed my boyfriend chat to one friend in particular, a short blonde girl, and my gut instinct started to spike.

As we walked home, I asked my boyfriend; “Was X the girl you slept with when we had just started dating?”, to which my boyfriend said; “How did you know that?!” I dunno, I just did, I could tell by how you were talking to each other. My boyfriend started getting very defensive indeed, and said; “Well it doesn’t matter, like fuck it, fuck her” to which I said; “You already did.” -insert klaxon noise here- 


easy math

We were out doing something dumb, something teens do in parks (drink and play music from their phones). We met up with a group of boys that we knew, one of them being an “ex” of mine from months ago. He had ghosted me after a handful of hook-ups.

I must have told my parents that I was staying with one of my friends, because it got pretty late and we were still out. My ex was flirting with me and I was very happy about it. We made out and our friends took the piss out of us – then he invited me to go to his place.

A few days later on MySpace (yep, MySpace), I posted one of those “get to know me” things, this one in particular inviting my friends to comment something about me. One of the boys from the other night commented: 15/5. I was super confused so asked my mate what it meant. It meant I was easy (15 divided by 5).

I hate boys.

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