Oh what a difference a year makes...

Reader, I am now officially moved out of Bag End. Which is a sad thing because I loved living with Curly One and having independence and a place I could invite lots of friends to without having to ask permission. But I am also moving back in with my family, who I adore, and frankly, I couldn't have afforded to live away for even a week longer so it's come at a perfect time.

Today, surrounded by boxes and piles of clothes going to charity shops, ebay and dry cleaners, I have been reflecting about the year at Bag End and all the things that have changed since I first moved in there. The big one is money-I went in with two grand in savings and I've left with £12.50 left at the end of my overdraft. We were paying far too much for Bag End, which was consistently on the brink of collapse, with doors breaking, a latch that kept slipping and locking us out, no insulation and old windows surrounded by rotting wood, but for us it was priceless. Much as I'm going to miss it though, I am very much looking forward to mending my coffers and getting back in my bank manager's good books. I've never been particularly good at not having money, it stresses me out more than most things to be unsure how I'm going to pay bills, and the constant praying I'll have been paid for one of my projects before another bill leaves my account. Which also partially prompted wanting to start as an acting coach, along with my camera based work with the brilliant young people at the Almeida Theatre, which shocked me with how much I enjoyed it. 

When I moved in, I was also a stone lighter than I am now, having lost a bit of weight due to grieving after a big break up. A year of eating more cheese than I ever have in my life has amended that-I am now the fattest I have ever been. But I don't really care-now I'm back home (where cheese is not seen as something to be eaten with every meal like we did in Bag End, and where my healthy parents have a gym in the basement) I know that the weight will fall off me fairly naturally anyway, but more than that, I am far more at peace with myself than I ever was when I moved in. I accept my body for what it is, something that I need to look after, to listen to and to let rest when it needs to. 

Speaking of heart break, I was very muted when I moved in. I cried often, I was terrified of where my life was going (how do you adjust when the future you had mapped out vanishes overnight?) I was single, the thought of dating made me seize up and I was pretty sure I would never fall in love again. Over the year I went on dates, discovered what I did and didn't like, not only in the men I dated, but in myself. I discovered that I was more able to ask people out than I thought, I was even asked out by others a few times. I learnt how to say no, that if you can't talk to someone then there's no point, that I'm not the kind of girl who can do casual. I learnt to love being single again, to love the excitement of a night out, to feel complete by myself. And just as I'd learnt to love spending time by myself, and that I didn't need a romantic partner, I went to an audition and got completely knocked off my feet by someone. So now I'm on a new adventure, being in a new relationship whilst living with my family, with someone who is just as creative, childish and romantic as I am. I am so smitten and excited about our adventures, I feel a bit like a teenager again!

Someone said to me recently that I was more like myself again. But I disagree. What Bag End has taught me is that I didn't need to look back to someone I used to be, I needed to find a new me-someone who took on all the lessons of the past but was able to accept that the future is a changeable form which probably won't ever turn out as you expect it to, but to enjoy all the twists and turns. I have my old sparkle back, yes. But I'm also stronger, more resilient and more willing to try new things.

When I moved into Bag End, Curly One and I toasted each other with tiny bottles of prosecco and talked about the year ahead of us. I said I wanted to do things that scared me, and I'm really proud to say I have. I've started to learn how to drive, I've begun vlogging, I gave up smoking (for the second, and hopefully final time), I've let myself become poor in order to do things important to me (like performing at Edinburgh), I've dated, I've eaten new things (Salmon, beef, dim sum and soft shell crab to name but a few!). Bag End, more than anything, gave me the space to grow. And I was lucky enough to do it with Curly One, who I have laughed with, cried with, danced with, quoted Eddie Izzard with and eaten more cheese with than I have ever consumed in my life. 

So today, while I'm unpacking the rest of my boxes and drinking vast amounts of honey and lemon (I have a rotten cold), I will be thinking fondly of all the brilliant, unexpected and life changing things that happened to me during a year in a cold little hobbit hole in North London. 

Ash

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Roads and paths and potential...

Reader, today was such a beautiful day. The sun shone and in North London, everyone looked brighter and prettier. Even the football yobs looked cuter and less gruff. Meanwhile, I could not settle. Which seems to be a metaphor for my life at the moment. As an actor, life is never going to be simple and straightforward and easy. I know that. At the moment I am struggling a bit with it though. The thing is, I'm in my mid twenties and all my friends are starting to settle down. I am fully booked with weddings this year and I have a lot of new babies to meet. Mortgages are being bought, people are earning enough to go on nice holidays and invest in pensions. While all that is going on, I am facing the possibility of having to move back in with my parents in August, trying to decide if a short term move to New York would make sense for my life at the end of this year/beginning of next, waiting to see 3 films I've shot this year and waiting to hear back about the feature film that is potentially a career changer, that I've been promised a main part in but don't have a contract for.

Life feels like it's very wispy at the moment. Which doesn't make me want to give up being an actor, even though it's a bit scary. It makes me wish I wanted to do something else. But I don't. I have to be an actor. I can't even contemplate doing anything else (believe me, I've tried). It's difficult to think of my life being so transient when I'm older, which is why I'm trying to come up with more ways to keep money coming in (like writing and vlogging-hopefully things which will keep me acting for longer if I can work out a way to monetise them). The thing is, I think I could handle being skint and flighty forever-if it wasn't for the fact that I want children. If you're a regular reader, you'll know that I had a health scare a couple of years ago that led to me being forced to work out quite fast if I wanted kids or not and the positive that came out of an unpleasant situation was that it helped me realise how I needed to be a mother. But you can't be a mother if you can't support the child.

Saying that, some things give me hope. My mum told me recently about how she sat in her car once when I was very little as the radio told her that interest rates on mortgages had gone up and just cried because she was convinced they were going to lose our house. Then she thought about it and realised that she could always move (with me-aged 6, my father and my baby brother aged 1) into the top bedroom of her parents home. She was in her mid thirties at that point and it really reassured me. Yes, I have chosen a career that will take me up and down and all around the hedges, but if my mother (the strongest woman I know, who now runs an incredibly successful business and lives in an insanely beautiful house with my dad) in her mid thirties was married, had a 'proper' job and was not in the middle of an economic depression and STILL dealt the prospect of moving back in with her parents (with two kids and a husband no less), then maybe I shouldn't give myself so much of a hard time about the idea of moving back in with mine for a couple of months. Especially when doing so could mean moving to New York for a while (and thus fulfilling one of my big dreams).

The thing is, if I could afford holidays, a house and knew EXACTLY where my life was going while working in a 9-5 job that I wasn't really passionate about, I truly believe I would end up killing myself or shaving my head in roughly a week. Life as an actor may be really difficult sometimes and I may be so poor that I have to accept food parcels from my parents on occasions, but the pay-off, getting to feel completely fulfilled every time I go on stage or see one of my films on the big screen or tv or hear my voice at an awards ceremony or on the radio, is worth it. The moments when I'm sitting in a recording booth or playing out a scene make every time I've worried about my bank balance, cried over a boy, felt fat or been lost out on jobs suddenly not matter. Because I know what I'm doing. And I feel incredible. I feel high, like I've taken the worlds best drug or spun round in a circle for an hour. I can't even explain it. I'm addicted. It's better than sex or chocolate or winning monopoly. It's even better than finishing the Evening Standard crossword by myself in less than four stops on the tube.

Which is why, even though I'm scared about the future, I can't kick the habit just yet. Because it feels much, much too good. Acting is like having an incredible affair with James Bond. He's not always in the country but when he is-DEAR GOD.

Get it Reader?
Ash
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