I have a conflicted relationship with social media. I enjoy the opportunity to post a pic and connect across continents and generations. I struggle with the posers – their ducklipped pout and horizontal V signs – so I avoid them with a judgemental sideways glance. Yet all the while knowing that I am as guilty of presenting the same confection of reality.
My life is great. I have nothing to complain about. However what I share here are the best bits, the choice cuts, the tasty morsels. Like all of us there are days where it feels like tough going; feet,heart, soul and mind weighed down with the unexpected, the unimaginable or the unknown. Back home Movember puts men’s mental health front and centre; right under your nose. Guys like my fellow ginger ninja Dusty Allen do it well and more power to them. It’s not my thing. However by pure coincidence I have found myself with a face full of fuzz for the month.
It got me thinking about all those who make those un-Instagramable days bearable. To those who have walked beside, sat for a chat, run to keep up, tugged at my sleeve to slow me down, shared a meal or just stood in silent empathy. I’m so grateful to be surrounded by such a host earthly angles. Hairs to you all!