Live Like Someone's Watching

I read somewhere that we should always try to live like someone's watching. It's a great way of checking whether you're doing the right thing. How would I feel if my mother/child/husband could see me now?

In fact, in the lives of most teenagers, filled with Facebook, Instagram and the like, someone probably is watching pretty much all the time. Which is, apparently, one of the reasons why the amount young people drink is falling.

They are terrified of being caught, literally and metaphorically, with their pants down. They know that the indiscretions of their youth will haunt them forever.

My maternal grandmother died when I was twenty. I didn't believe in heaven and hell as such, or in angels floating on clouds, but I did think that there was some form of life after death.

In my worst moments of self recrimination (usually at around 3am when I couldn't sleep) I would imagine my granny looking down at whatever I'd been up to that evening, horrified at the antics of her darling granddaughter.

I remembered this today, and it struck me that I haven't done anything (as far as I can remember!) in the last five months that I wouldn't have wanted Granny to see. I am living like someone's watching.

On the one hand, I'm horribly proud of that. But on the other hand, it feels a bit dull and ordinary to be so transparent. I kind of miss my seedy underbelly. Not the actual thing, you understand, just the idea of it.

It reminds me of when I was heading off to University for the first time. No-one I knew was going to Oxford, so I realised that it was a great opportunity to re-invent myself.

I decided that what I most wanted to be was elusive. I had always worn my heart on my sleeve. I had a habit of telling strangers my life story. I had no secrets. What you saw was what you got. I wanted people to say "Do you know SM?" and the reply to be "No-one really knows SM."

Of course, I only managed a few days of playing enigmatic before the wheels came off.

Ironically, decades later my life was one whole charade of smoke and mirrors.

But now I'm back to what you see is what you get. If you're there, Granny, it's okay...you can look now!

Perhaps that's one on the reasons I love this blog: it's my little secret....

Love SM x