Confessions of a Love Island addict…

Despite all this hard graft, I appear to be about as spiritual as a lads’ night out at Spearmint Rhino. Tomorrow, I set off for a 48-hour silent retreat and my biggest fear is…that I am going to miss Love Island!

OMFG! Is Curtis going to realise that Amy is a horrendous whinge bag and dump her? Is new girl Maura really going to fall for Tommy dead-behind-those-lovely-eyes Fury? And will Danny see sense and couple-up with Yewande?

A LOT can happen in 48 hours on Love Island. Right now, I don’t want to disappear off into the wilds of Hampshire for two days of quiet – I want to go out for a beer with Iain Stirling. And I don’t even drink beer!

They thought I was joking when I voiced my FOMOLI (fear of missing out on Love Island) in ballet this morning. ‘How can an intelligent woman like you watch like that rubbish?’ asked one. ‘Well,’ I replied. ‘I’m really not THAT intelligent.’

I’m not going to harp on about why I am addicted to Love Island here as it isn’t the place. I just am okay. Besides, at least it gives me one tiny thing in common with my two teenage daughters.

We’ll have to sit in a circle tomorrow and talk about our intentions for the weekend and our fears. Dare I mention Love Island? I can just hear Marion whisper ‘What is Love Island?’

I don’t think it matters how much I meditate, open my heart or scribble affirmations, I’m always going to be the kind of woman who loves trashy TV, rude jokes and Mr Kipling’s finest. Does that mean I can’t be properly spiritual? I’m not sure.

I worry that I am going be bored senseless as I endure two days of silence with NO phone, books, TV, iPad, conversation….just me and the junk that swirls around in my head. I anticipate that there will be some serious snacking going on, because I do tend to eat a lot when I am bored.

I’m taking my running shoes and my ballet pumps, because if all else fails, at least I can move about. You never know, I may return home able to do a posé turn. I do hope I connect with the blissful stillness I discovered during my first day-long silent retreat. That would be lovely, but can it sustain me for a full 48 hours?

Oh well, there’s no turning back now. It is what it is….

One comment

  1. I used to think that women who wore makeup couldn’t be “spiritual,” for obviously their heads were not in the right place. Now I know it was me whose head was up my ass. It’s got nothing to do with what we watch or read or wear. Don’t be too hard on yourself.

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