podcast - The Barefoot Blogger

April 10, 2024April 10, 2024

Do they make a pill for a vulnerability hangover?

I’m sitting here feeling a little queasy, a little anxious and just all over blah. Kind of like a hangover after a big night, but being that I’m nearly 6 months pregnant and sitting here braless, in pants almost the size of a fitted sheet, it can’t be booze. Suddenly, I realise what my issue is; a vulnerability hangover. Gross.

I recently started recording episodes for my very own podcast called ‘Can I Get A Refill?’ (Dropping late April on all major poddy platforms…no apologies for shameless plug). And tonight I released a one minute teaser reel on insta. I’ve been in hiding a bit in recent months because I’ve had a really difficult pregnancy. Other than the first trimester seeing me couch-ridden with extreme morning sickness (all day and evening mind you) it’s been the remainder of the pregnancy that’s been so challenging. I was born with a neuro-muscular disorder called Myotonia Congenita. It’s a bit technical to explain, but basically every single skeletal muscle in my body from my eyelids and tongue to my arms and legs, go very rigid and stiff if I’ve been stationery for more than 60 seconds. It’s been incredibly difficult but somewhat manageable, to the point that I was able to hide it from anyone I never lived with for most of my life. What I didn’t know, however, was that it would greatly increase during pregnancy and there’s nothing I can do about it. I spent last year doing singing gigs, high intensity workouts, running up the sand dunes and travelling Europe. This year, I need a walking stock to hobble around the block and require assistance from a loved one to cross any major roads. To say that my mental health and self-esteem have taken a hit would be the understatement of the century.

So I’ve been spending a lot of time laying low, trying to just push through this challenge and focus on the excitement of meeting my son in July. But putting up a video where I talk about vulnerable things, letting people hear that my voice is slightly nervous because it was my very first episode and new things are scary, posting a video of me where I look about double my size since many people last saw me (fuck you baby…I mean hormones), and just basically attempting something new that I might not nail and people might laugh at…is a little fucking scary. Hence the queasiness.

(GIF courtesy of https://memes.getyarn.io/)

I was feeling a little ill and having an out of body sensation, but then I caught myself. I didn’t say or do anything I don’t believe in or am ashamed of. My current condition that’s deteriorating my muscles (temporarily) is not my fault. Not being able to exercise the way I’m used to is entirely out of my control. Gaining weight and having hormonal shifts when you are literally creating and growing a human with your body is completely normal. I might put out a few shit podcast episodes. I might look back and cringe at my early attempts. I might not get many views on my reels or downloads on my episodes. And many people might think I look and sound shit and they might feel the need to write that in the comments (Fuck you, if you do btw). But you know what? Maybe none of what I’m feeling has anything to do with anyone else. Maybe it all has to do with the pressure I put on myself and the unrealistic standards I hold myself to thanks to my perfectionist personality.

The first episode of my podcast is about diving in and trying new things. About starting something where you’re at and not waiting for the perfect circumstances (because they don’t exist). It’s about being brave and how courage is not the absence of fear, but pushing through in spite of the fear.

Anything that I’ve ever been proud of myself for, has been done in a moment of fear. When I dug deep and found the real Steph and let her Wonder Woman that shit all the way to the end. My greatest fear in this world is mediocrity, living with regrets, always wondering what might have been. I don’t love that I get nervous. I don’t love that I suffer from acute anxiety. And I sure as hell don’t love that I think far too often about what others might think of me. But you know what I really love about me? That I’m tenacious. That now as an adult, I try all the things I ever wanted to try. That’s what victory looks like to me.

If the first episode of my podcast is about trying new things, then it’s super apt that my voice sounds nervous, particularly at the beginning of the episode. I can’t imagine that anyone would expect me to be brilliant at my first attempt at something. As stated in the episode (which you’ll be listening to of course so you’ll get to hear this), WD40 stands for ‘Water Displacement 40th Attempt’. You realise what this means don’t you? That they had 39 failed attempts before they perfected it. If they gave up on the 15th attempt, the whole world would sound like creaky doors! But the 39 attempts were not failures of course. They were part of the success. They were crucial stepping stones.

We’ve become so accustomed to seeing hi-light reels and finished products on social media, that we’ve almost completely forgotten that anything worthwhile in this life takes effort and patience as we learn and grow. I feel like Mary Poppins’ cleaning scene set us up for unrealistic expectations of the work that would be involved in adult life.

(GIF courtesy of https://tenor.com/en-GB/)

I’m currently embracing my vulnerability as I try something new and dig deep for courage. On a project that is bringing me so much joy and creative fulfilment and hopefully will bring others some entertainment and healing (as I say out loud in my morning affirmations). I’m currently embracing vulnerability as my body and appearance take a massive hit, whilst I perform the ultimate miracle of bringing a child into this world.

As for my fitness, my social life, my youthful energy, my singing career and my love of a good bottle of Veuve, they’re not over. I’m choosing to think of myself as a sling-shot in the pulled back position, just waiting for the right time to launch. 2022 saw me working 3 jobs to get myself into a better financial position and I knew that it would be the grind year, just as I knew that 2023 would be my year of reaping the rewards. And it was, in spades! I entered 2024 with very few short-term goals because I knew this would be my time to go inward and embrace my feminine energy as I sit in my ‘being’, rather than the ‘doing’. And that’s OK. Life, like the weather, is seasonal. Not every year can be all about the celebration, some years have to be about putting in the work. Not all the years can be about striving for success, some have to be about rest and cooking up creative ideas. Rest is always a crucial part of success that many skip.

I watch a really great vlogger on YouTube called Shayla Quinn, who grew up in Southern California and moved to New York City about two years ago, which is when I found her content because my phone is playing NYC content 24/7! I’m obsessed! She said something that I always think of because I relate to it so much. She said that she loves that NYC has 4 very different seasons because Sunny California is basically Summer all year round. And you can literally see her struggling to walk her dogs in the snow or hating how the sun sets so early in Winter (I hear that girl), but she loves the different stages because the dark and the cold helps her appreciate the warm and the bright so much more. I literally could not agree more! I’m always so excited when a new season starts. I’m loving life right now because as a tired pregnant woman, the heat was getting to me and I just adore the cosiness of Autumn. I love watching the rain on the leaves outside my window as I work, I love playing Harry Potter ambience music on Youtube, I love all those bullshit Pumpkin Spice Chai Latte drinks at Starbucks (decaf for this anxious bitch please).

Seasons of your life are exactly the same. Sometimes you need to hibernate, sometimes you need to create and sometimes you need to celebrate.

I’m embracing the stage I’m in and I’m also acknowledging the struggle of losing mobility at the moment, and the massive impact that’s having on multiple areas of my life (although my hot pink walking stick is kinda hot). But I’m also so grateful for the endless love and support around me, and I look forward to hanging out with my kid next year, hitting the gym harder than I ever have, and getting my stride back as an independent woman.

I’m learning to find some patience, sit in the uncomfortable and embrace this relatively new concept of vulnerability. Because as a very wise Dianne Wiest says in Practical Magic, “With the sweets, come the sour”.

December 21, 2022December 21, 2022

It’s the most ‘everything’ time of the year – and the rise of the extroverted introvert

This year I finally pinpointed my most accurate label by diagnosing myself an ‘Extraverted Introvert’. You all have a friend like me; the one who talks the most and the loudest at each party but probably had a panic attack on her way over because, well, people. And so many of them. The friend who keeps entering herself in talent and quiz shows for the thrill of it, but spends the night before crying on the floor in her underwear, asking her husband why he lets her do shit like this. Oh I know why, because I entered during my Extrovert mode, but my Introvert self has to show up in the morning. God damn my Jekyll and Hyde-ness. Side note: tune into the first new episode of Millionaire Hotseat for the new year if you wanna see me bomb out on a question about Korean Street Food. You can’t miss me, I’m in a bright green top. Unfortunately, it did not bring me quite enough luck that day.

You’d likely meet me and be certain that I’m an extrovert, but you know how you can discover a closeted introvert? By how they recharge. I love the occasional get together, as long as it’s with high vibe people, but I can never ever do back-to-back functions and my recharge place is definitely the fortress of solitude. You might spoil yourself with a champagne brekkie with the girls, but I spoil myself with a night out at the movies on my own with the kombucha and dark chocolate that I snuck in under my jacket.

Every time I start a new job and there’s an upcoming work function, my signature move is to search my brain for a fake event I can claim to be at, or a fake illness I can diagnose myself with, but it has to be something I haven’t used in a while (how do you spell shingles?) I’m so loud and chatty at work that my new colleagues always presume I’ll be the last one standing at the Christmas Party…

I remember over a decade ago, going to Italy on a two-week Contiki tour with a great bunch of people. One of the girls said “I reckon you’ll be so much fun on a night out”, cut to us in a nightclub a few nights later, I was the first to smoke bomb from the dance floor and make my way back to the hotel. But hey, I got to appreciate all of those beautiful sunflowers through Tuscany the next morning, while they all slept on the bus with the curtains pulled closed.

And yet, this year’s work Christmas Party I was on the karaoke floor all night, even though my ENT specialist gave me strict instructions of vocal rest to heal these nodules. Perhaps I was in Extrovert Mode, or perhaps it’s because my work girls are just so damn loveable. Come to think of it, I was ovulating, it is after all the most social time of the cycle, it’s when your genetics are screaming out for you to get out there and find a mate so you can procreate. Hey, I was with a bunch of straight girls, but it didn’t stop me from pulling out some of my best dance moves.

All I know is that I have short bursts of energy followed by the most primal need to shut down and regroup. I used to work in a Call Centre with the most beautiful friend who was an excellent people watcher and had a knack of pin pointing everyone’s idiosyncrasies. She described me as the Terminator. I’d make noise and movements for a while then sudden silence, where she knew I had hit ‘power down’ mode. Within an hour, I’d power back up and start belting out some Gaga. It’s all a matter of balance you see.

I was recently talking to a friend of mine who returned to her role at a major TV Network after having her first baby. I’m somewhat terrified of having a baby myself, not for the birth itself but for losing my identify as ‘Steph’ and becoming ‘Mum’, so I find myself interviewing new Mums, particularly notoriously independent women to see how they navigated such a stark contrast to their routine. My dear friend, who gave birth to possibly the most gorgeous child I’ve ever met, told me that she misses only one thing: her solitude. She sees her friends all the time, most now have children of their own, so she doesn’t feel like she’s missing out on any social aspect of life, but she told me that having solid time completely alone, is near impossible. That word SOLITUDE really hit me in the chest. It hi-lighted for me how important that is to me. Her and I spent most of our teens locked in our rooms reading Anne Rice, and most of our twenties locked in our rooms watching Buffy or The Vampire Diaries, so I get.

Being around lots of people for long periods of time can be not only draining for me and many others, it can be really overwhelming. These feelings can be really exacerbated at this particularly social time of year.

If you’ve watched a lot of lame Hallmark Christmas Movies like I have (now boycotting anything with Candice Cameron Bure – her and her brother have really perfected that middle class, white American, anti-gay image) you may have this idea in your head of how Christmas should be. Calm ambience with a beautiful soundtrack of gentle Christmas music, beautiful deep red gowns and coats, soft snowfall, roasting turkey, people looking lovingly into each other’s eyes before telling their partner of a week that they’ve quit their awesome job in the city to move to the country to be with them. When in reality, someone just cut you off on the way to Westfield and gave you the finger, you realise you don’t have half the money required to buy gifts this year, you’re working right up until Christmas Eve and there’s no freaking way you can hand out gifts to everyone or bake enough cookies in time, you spend Christmas Eve wiping away boob sweat because you insisted on a traditional Turkey dinner but you don’t have AC and you celebrate this holiday in the middle of Australian fucking Summer, then Christmas Day swatting away flies from the food, scratching mozzie bites on your arms and hearing Aunty Shazza scream at the top of her lungs because she’s had one too many and someone left the back door open.

I was recently listening to one of my fave podcasts ‘We Can Do Hard Things’ with Glennon Doyle and Abby Wambach, and they talked about just this, the pressure to make Christmas ‘The most wonderful time of the year’ when in actuality, it’s ‘The most EVERYTHING time of the year’. It’s the most anxious, expensive, overwhelming, loving, scary, joyous, magical, emotional time of year. I heard the other day that statistically, the most common date of breakup is 12th December. I actually broke up with a long-term boyfriend on that date many years ago! Perhaps it’s a time when we question if we’re ending the year where we really want to be, and maybe if you break up before Christmas, you can start the new year fresh. Or maybe emotions just run WILD in December.

I love a good classic Christmas Movie but when I watch Four Christmases or Daddy’s Home 2, that both centre around visiting all of your divorced parents and their new partners, fighting with your siblings or trying to share custody of your kids with your ex, I just feel so much better about myself. I would imagine that more families feel represented in the newer films and therefore feel less pressure to create a perfect Christmas.

If someone feels the need to take a breather from the family dynamic over the holidays, maybe it’s not a bad thing, maybe they were drowning and saying that they need a time out is their way of waving the white flag. Do all the traditional shit you want this year, but feel free to bin it if you’re just not feeling it. There’s nothing in life that brings me more pure joy than Christmas. I love Carols and play them from August! I love driving around looking at Christmas Lights, and this year I’m super excited to go back to midnight mass for the first time in 8 years (right around the time I met that heathen husband of mine – coincidence?) But I’m really not feeling the traditions this year. I feel beyond drained. After a year of bronchitis, glandular fever, nodules, the worst gastro of my life and two bouts of COVID, I want nothing more than simplicity. We all had two years of doing nothing and going nowhere and I know you’ve all had an overwhelming social calendar this year. My wallet, my liver and my mental health all need nothing more than a little solitude. It’s my Christmas Gift to myself and guess what? Fits like a glove!

Speaking of podcasts, ya’ll know there’s no one greater on this earth than my Queen, Oprah. On a recent episode of Oprah’s Super Soul, she said that when you pray for patience, God doesn’t magically beam down a big dose of patience in a white light, he sends you challenging situations to help you learn patience. Queen O went onto say that sometimes when she prays she says “God, I don’t wanna learn nothin’ today”. Well that’s my feels for 2023. In the last year I worked three jobs and guess what? A few weeks ago I became debt free for the first time in a decade! Super fucking proud of myself. I feel like the last twelve years for me, and in particular the last two have been spent learning so many lessons that have helped me develop into to the person I always wanted to become. I have spent so much effort laying the ground work for a brighter future, but I have no plans on working this hard in 2023 and no plans on learning a God Damn thing! I’m not making a list of goals, and I’m not going to kill myself grinding away. I picture 2023 being one long Great Gatsby style party with beautiful glittery dresses and flowing champagne. But of course, I’ll probably duck in and out for solitude because well you know, people. Eek.

Merry Christmas to you dear reader. Thank you for being a part of my community for another year. May your 2023 be filled with joy, adventure, abundance, and if you’re anything like me, just a little solitude x

May 29, 2019May 31, 2019

Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

It’s a truth, universally acknowledged that the two greatest fears amongst humans are public speaking and death. To which Jerry Seinfeld poignantly noted that at a funeral, most of us would rather be in the casket than giving the eulogy.
I don’t know about you, but one of my greatest fears has always been prison. I need to move my body, feel the earth under my bare feet and stare up at the moon before retiring to bed.
Something I have come to realise over the years, is that a lot of us are living like prisoners. Behind the invisible bars of not being our “true selves”.

In my early twenties, I worked at Myer, in the ladies’ accessories department. What a great job to have at an age where all you wanted to do was try on all the merchandise, run out to Pitt Street to sneak a ciggie, wear low-cut tops and flirt with all the straight boys in the logistics department. At the ripe old age of 35, my life now consists mainly of loose-fitted shirts and napping.
I was approached, one day, by two Chanel representatives who asked me if I’d like to remain in that department, exclusively selling Chanel sunglasses (at $500 a pop, those babies really moved!) I took them up on their offer, wooed by promises of commissions and free Chanel sunglasses (I never saw either). Though there was a catch: the Chanel uniform consisted of a long, high wasted navy skirt and a thick, high neck shirt in a beige that can only be described as the colour of diarrhea. I also had to wear my hair in a bun and no dangly earrings. My thing is the statement earring; Hello J-LO and Nelly Furtado hoops! I was miserable.
OK, I guess George Michael makes a fair point that “sometimes the clothes do not make the man”, but your personal style is your first message to the world of who you are. I felt like I was shackled. Forced to tone down the real Steph.
I literally ran to the chemist on my lunch break and got three more piercings in my ears just to rebel. And a little while later, got my first tattoo.

How many of us today are in a relationship, a friendship, a course or a job that does not, in any way reflect our most authentic selves? Doing something that compromises our beliefs or goals because we believe it is the right thing to do. Or what our loved ones told us we should be doing.
I don’t want to wait until I’m a granny on her way to bingo, before I start being honest about what I really want or who I really am.

Pop music phenomenon Katy Perry was dropped by three record labels before officially hitting the big time with her ’06 hit ‘I kissed a girl’. Always being told to change her image and change her style of songs because she needed to be the next Avril Lavigne, Perry kept thinking; “I just wanna be the first Katy Perry”.
Fast forward a decade or so, and this woman has amassed a net worth of $330m, released 5 albums and 29 hit singles, currently has a successful TV career and a successful perfume and shoe line…just to name a few. This success arose when she walked away from the people who did not believe in her vision, went back to writing and recording her own songs that reflected who she was. And the rest, is history.

Image result for katy perry gif — Take that, losers!

Perhaps the key to success is a mixture of being true to your most authentic self and having someone believe in you and back you.
We’ve all heard Gaga’s speech about getting her big movie break in A Star is Born, about having one hundred people in a room and ninety nine don’t believe in you but you only need that one person. For her, that one person was Bradley Cooper who had seen her perform La Vien Rose at a charity event and moved mountains to have her cast as the lead.

As a result, Gaga received multiple award nominations for her acting role, won critical acclaim worldwide, won an Oscar for best song in the film and absolutely slayyyyyyed the red-carpet during awards season. I think we can all agree, there is only one Lady Gaga.

Related image — Thanks for believing in me Coops. Can I have your babies?

I’m really digging podcasts at the moment. I’m feeling so motivated and inspired by hearing the voices of those I most admire and listening to their stories of rise & fall, directly from the horse’s mouth. Oprah’s Super Soul Conversations podcast is at the very top of my list.
In one of these episodes, Oprah tells of her truly inspiring story that I highly recommend you listen to. I don’t know any story quite like Queen O’s. To rise and rise after such a tragic and tumultuous childhood is truly inspiring. Though the story that really stood out in my mind is how she first got her big break on a daytime talk show in Chicago after kicking around on news programs that she never truly felt comfortable at. Oprah was pitted against The Phil Donahue Show.

For those of you old enough to remember, Donahue was the unrivalled King of daytime TV and Oprah was essentially told by her boss, in so many words; “we know you don’t stand a chance against Phil Donahue, we just want you to get up there and be yourself”. On her first episode, Oprah beat Phil’s ratings and her show continued to gain audiences at a rapid rate until she became the unequivocal Queen of daytime TV (and my world).

There was never anything that cutting edge that set Oprah apart from her peers, she merely demonstrated immense warmth and empathy. Oprah was truly, just being herself, and for her, that was enough to create immense success, given the right platform.

When Ed Sheeran sings, when Jamie Oliver cooks, when Oprah speaks or when Carl Barron tells a joke, are they re-inventing the wheel? Or are they just being their most authentic selves, doing something they really, truly enjoy?

Look at what you’re doing and what you have on your bucket list. Ask yourself if this is what makes your soul soar, or if it’s just what you think you “should” be doing.
Stop “should”-ing on your life. This life may be briefer than you think.

My name is Steph. I like to tell dirty jokes (sometimes with interpretive dance). I like to drink shots at parties instead of being the designated driver (also with interpretive dance). I like to swear if it makes the story better. I like to sing in the shower, pat other people’s dogs, compliment strangers on a nice outfit, watch Christmas movies and listen to Christmas Carols (even if it’s only May) and I like to have a good cry at YouTube videos of cochlear transplant patients hearing their loved ones’ voices for the first time (seriously gets me every time).

Join me in shedding the chains that are smothering the real you. Let your true colours shine, whether it’s to someone else’s liking or not. And do one thing every day that makes you smile, whether you get paid for it or not.
In the words of one Homer J. Simpson; “if it feels good, do it!”