F**K IT. I’M OWNING IT.
I live in Scotland now.
I moved from London to Edinburgh in March 2021.
And I haven’t looked back.
It was the middle of a lockdown, in the middle of a pandemic, after a year of staring at the walls of our lovely but tiny flat in Bethnal Green (if you’re thinking you know the one then you probably do) and we were gagging for more green space, more living space and, the pièce de résistance, some new routes for those daily walks.
Honestly, the decision was a no brainer. It was intuition that set that ship a sail.
My partner flippantly mentioned a move to Scotland (while on one of those aforementioned daily walks actually) and my gut pounced on the idea like a kitten on a string. I just knew it was right for us. Right for me. For the first time in my career I was feeling like I didn’t need to be in my beloved Big Smoke to live out my creative dreams. While the majority of doors had been locking down, others had been creeping open.
The move itself felt like sneaking out the back door.
An anti climactic, stealth departure from the fabulous, dirty, adventure of a city I’d called home for more years than I care to count. We weren’t trying for an Irish Goodbye but lockdown restrictions made it feel like one.
But, despite the weird exit and a world still in COVID crisis mode, my intuition proved right. This moody, breathtakingly beautiful (and surprisingly sunny?!) gorgeously creative city welcomed us with open arms.
My first film project post move was for an Edinburgh accent!
Call it sheer coincidence if you want but I took it as a sign!
We met some amazing folk; made some incredible friends; got ourselves an Otis; created a home in a house on the edge of the Firth of Forth (daily sea dips optional); put another three EdFringes, EIFs & EIFFs under our belts, I’ve even set myself up in a studio in Leith, Edinburgh’s answer to East London.
Any niggling fears that things would change post pandemic and that I wouldn’t be able to sustain the online/remote working model proved to be entirely unfounded. The 30 months I’ve lived here have been some of the most fulfilling and rewarding of my career.
It’s not all been a bed of roses but not once have I found myself questioning my gut decision to pounce on that Auld Reekie string.
Not for a single moment.
And, yet, 2.5 years on and this is my first time mentioning it.
Weird, eh?
The why is pretty simple really, if a little embarrassing…
In truth, I’ve been scared that if people knew that I no longer lived in London they’d no longer take me seriously as a coach. My work would dry up. Or disappear in a puff of smoke. My career would be over.
Just writing that makes the ridiculousness mortifyingly clear but I’m also very clear on the fact that I’m not the only one who fled London during the pandemic and willing to bet that I’m not the only one who’s been feeling the way I have about it either.
Because the debilitating shame that can come with venturing off the well trodden path, with choosing your thing over the ‘right’ thing, the ‘should’ thing, the expected or done thing, that shame that comes with doing the thing that others might think is the ‘wrong’ thing, is an unfortunate reflex for most of us.
Even when we’ve achieved the remarkable multilayered feat of digging deep within ourselves, listening to the voice that we find there and actually taking action on the gold that it gives, we reward ourselves by drenching ourselves in that reflexive shame.
Instead of celebrating, we stay small, isolate. We hide in our own lives.
‘Don’t mind me.
I’m just over here doing something extraordinary, original and true to myself.
Nothing to see.
I’ll pipe up later when I’m doing something that diminishes my sense of self but ticks a box or two.’
#livelaughlove
Brené Brown defines shame as the fear of disconnection. Isn’t it ironic, then, that whilst in this fear of disconnection, our reflexive response is to further disconnect?
It’s not just ironic. It’s the definition of counterintuitive.
In order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to be seen. Really, truly, deeply seen.
So we don’t just have to learn to listen to and follow our instincts (a practice in itself), we have to learn to stick our middle finger up to shame and own those gorgeous, insightful instincts and traits that are unique to us.
Because knowing thyself is one thing. And showing up fully as that self is entirely another.
Courage is actually the willingness to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.
I shit you not.
The root of the word courage is cor, the Latin word for heart, and, in one of its earliest forms, the word courage meant, ‘to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart.’
And, boy, is it a practice. A practice that requires a truckload of self compassion and a shedload of ‘F&*k it. I’m owning it.’
But it’s the sweet spot for connection.
For developing the ability to stick that middle finger up to that joy stealing, truth blocking, creativity killing shame.
And it’s the sweet spot for acting and accents too.
There’s little that grinds my gears more than the armchair critics who say, ‘They’re not a very good actor. They just play themselves.’
Those folk would do well to take some time to reflect upon how hard that actually is. Because, I assure you, by dint of being human, they already know. And I can’t help but wonder how often they let themselves do it in their own lives.
The actor who demonstrates the ability to show up in their own skin should be celebrated. Because they, too, know just how hard that can be. And they’ll have practiced a hell of a lot of F&*k its and Owning its to get there.
Have you been feeding yourself some bullshit line that there’s a ‘right way’ to approach acting, accents, life?
Do you find yourself pushing your true self aside for ‘shoulds’?
Are you in the habit of dismissing your intuition because it likes to lead you off the beaten track?
Is there an area of your life in which you’ve been letting shame rule?
Why not try some F&*k it. I’m owning it. on for size?
You might never look back.
P.S. Do you feel like you could do with some help revealing, nurturing and sharing your truest voice? I’d love to be your guide on the side.
“Maeve completely changed my perspective of and approach to voice. Her holistic and personalised methods taught me how to appreciate and respect my voice and develop a true interest in its capability. This not only worked wonders with my text work as an actor, but also just generally in life - as me!”
My signature, buildable, voice programmes, Discover > Explore > Embody & Connect come in two versions, one for actors and one for non actors. Because we all deserve the chance to tell the story of who we are with our whole hearts <3