Hayley in Wanderlust: The Prologue

Approximately six months ago I booked a trip I have been dreaming of my entire life. It was spur of the moment (sort of), I'd been saving since I graduated and moved home in July and was bored of my life. Ideally I would have waited until I had a little more money saved - I only went in to start building a plan -  but it's funny what desperation and an overwhelming need to shake up your life will do to you. The travel agent probably thought all her Christmases had come at once. I practically emptied my savings account onto her desk.
Oops.

Checked in an almost ready to go.

Fast forward to now and I can't quite believe that I leave tomorrow. It's actually happening... I'm going to South America. I can't explain it in a way that doesn't make me sound like a pretentious princess, but I was born to make this trip. Some people get vocational callings in life. They know from the word go that they're supposed to teach/fight on the front line/cure the sick/help those in need. I don't have one of those. I have no idea what I am supposed to do when I finally join the adult world... All I know is that I won't settle for anything less than being the best. The question is, the best in what?

But South America and travelling and seeing the world? This is my calling. For as long as I can remember, for reasons I still don't know, I have felt this deep rooted need to travel to a continent I have zero connection to. It's a part of who I am. It's in my bones and blood and DNA. It's why I get out of bed in the morning and it's the only thing I have never been willing to compromise or sacrifice. It's the only thing I'd ever have given up my life in Manchester. I was inches from my dream job, but this dream wins every single time. No matter where I've been in life or who I've been with - it's the only part of me that's never changed.

This time tomorrow, I'll be on my way to Rio (so long as, you know, my flight isn't delayed or anything). I've never been so terrified, like, pant wettingly scared. The only thing more terrifying than getting on that plane tomorrow would be if a tarantula appeared over my laptop and started crawling down the screen towards me. I have considered, on multiple occasions over the past few weeks, cancelling the entire thing and have begun to hyperventilate anytime anyone asked when I was leaving. I never could though, not go, I mean. If I backed out now I'd loose the friends I've done nothing but bore with details of my trip since I booked it in October.

It's almost time for my biggest adventure yet; I hope you'll all join me.

My name is Hayley Devlin and I am going to travel the world until there is nothing left to see.

- xo

That's Why Her Hair's So Big...

I have always been a firm believer that a good hair do is pretty much paramount to maintaining personal happiness levels. Partly because of the fact that I went to an all girls school, but mostly because of the fact that my mum is a hairdresser- hair is important.

I've always had a lot of hair. When I was little it was a curse. My hair was think and wavy and knotty and for some reason I spent most of primary school with it in a low ponytail which only further highlighted that my face is was round it was practically a planet. As a grew up it became the thing I loved most about myself. At one point my mum also cut it into a bob, so short she may as well have just sheered it all off and no, she still isn't entirely forgiven (who lets a five year old decide what's good for them?! I'm 21 and I still don't know what's good for me!)

Something about me was braver when it came to my hair- I didn't care what other people thought. I started colouring it at 10 (my mum had brightly coloured hair throughout most of my childhood so she really couldn't have said no) and it went on from there. In Year 9, I was threaten with suspension because the block of red running through my mane did not stick to the 'natural hair colour only' rule my all girls school enforced. Then, at 16, I went from brunette to redhead and never looked back.
It's been blue and yellow and purple, and orange and red and brown and it never scared me. Whilst other parts of my appearance have always seems like an uphill struggle (my skin, my stomach, my inability to have at high gap), I've always been at one with my hair- even if I have been ripping a brush through it and praying I'd wake up with it naturally pin straight (still no such luck).

Now my hair is pink. After a year of doing nothing but excruciatingly question each tiny decision I have made and not knowing myself from one day to the next- I finally feel like I'm being to regain control of me.

Between graduating, booking my trip, starting my internship, and the new hair; I guess I'm starting to see bits of myself I thought I'd lost forever.

So fuck it. Maybe this is narcissistic and shallow as hell, but I don't care. This is an appreciation post for my hair. It makes me feel good about myself and it reminds me to always be a bit braver and a bit bolder. Who knows, maybe if we all started appreciating the parts of ourselves we truly love a little more- loving all the slightly less great bits will become less of a battle.

-xo

You're a Feminist, Harry!

Unless you've spent most of this week under a rock, or somewhere so remote the internet does not exist, I'm sure you will have all read about, watched and formed your own opinions on Emma Watson's incredible UN Speech.

To many of us of, Watson has always been some what of an idol. Not only did she play the one of the greatest female literary characters of the millennial generation, but she grew up right before our very eyes without going off the rails. She got herself into an Ivy League College (which was probably tougher than getting the role of Hermonie) and has always fallen into the category of female that girls want to be and men want to be with.

As face of new campaign HeForShe, a campaign that promotes the novel idea that, guess what? MALES CAN BE FEMINIST, she eloquently listed for the crowd reasons why she decided to be a feminist. As a female of roughly the same age, not many of them shocked me. Feeling sexualised at far too young an age, being called 'bossy', worrying that sports would make my  body look 'unfeminine' (well alright, that one was less me, who at 15 thought sport was just about the most awful thing on the planet, but I do remember friends of mine worrying that playing so much netball was 'making their boobs weird').
The one that stuck out most to me though, was when she said that at 18, she watched her male companions struggle to communicate their feelings... Because it's true and is probably the biggest thing that all feminist haters seem to over look.

We live in a patriarchal society, we have done for generations and whilst yes, here in the west, in the UK and the US it is better, there are places not so far away from us where things are not better at all. We spend so much time telling girls how over emotional they are that we miss it giving boys a direct message that emotions are not human, they're female and that somehow, that makes them bad.

We live in a society where new father's are expected to get back to work straight away and are somewhat looked down on if, God forbid, they want to work from home to look after their kids whilst their wives/girlfriends return to work to continue where they left off.

Feminism doesn't do that. Patriarchy does.

Patriarchy teaches boys not to cry like a girl/hit like a girl/throw like a girl. Patriarchy teaches your daughters and sons that if she's upset, she's probably over reacting or due on and therefore, wahtever upset probably wasn't that big a deal. It breads insecurity in our own emotions. It teaches girls not to fight back, whilst teaching boys to be the first one to throw a punch, but punching is only disrespectful if you hit a girl. It teaches that mother's make the better parent, even though every single family is different and that can't always be true. It teaches us that men are automatically the monsters, when we all know that women can commit some pretty horrific crimes too.
Patriarchy, not feminism, is what's standing in the way of you, boys. All this time it's been lulling you into a false sense of security that those dirty, bra burning feminists just want to ship you all off to a remote island and leave you there to rot, when really it's been doing all the rotting for you.

So I hope Miss Watson opens some eyes. Having graced multiple sexiest women lists as well as multiple best dressed columns, she's the perfect ambassador for HeForShe. She's asking that we simply start to look at the word 'feminism' as another way of saying 'equality'...

And a little equality never hurt anyone.

From Manchester, With Love

"You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. Like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.” - Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

So, that's it, my friends. Three years, one degree and countless hangovers later, my time in Manchester, for now at least, has come to an end. It's a strange sort of feeling. On one hand I am in complete denial about the fact that I am moving back in with my parents after three years of living on my own; but on the other hand, I feel as though, at long last, the world is my oyster.

It's been a pretty special journey. I've experienced more than I thought humanly possible and I am, in no way, shape or form, the same girl that practically sprinted up the M6 on A Level Results Day. It's been hectic and crazy and messy and wonderful and painful and liberating; and I am proud to say that I have not a single regret.

In the past three years I have found that best friends come in all shapes and sizes. They are the people you get drunk with at 6am and spill your heart out to. You meet them whilst working 14 hour shifts, for crappy money and little recognition. They are the people who surprise you by being there when you least expect. They live right under you and they live miles away. They are the people you call with your broken heart, and the people who call you with theirs. They teach you that families are not always related by blood. Sometimes they are there forever and sometimes they are only there for a short while. I got so lucky. I am leaving not having made any friends but having created a family. My own messy, non judgemental, beautiful family.

I spent a lot of 2013 with a group of people who showed me a whole new meaning to the word 'family', and although they are no longer a part of my day to day life, I hope they never stop showing people that meaning, it was pretty special to be part of. I spent nine months working in a bar with the messiest, most ridiculous and sometimes most disgusting group of boys a girl could wish for. But they believed in me in a way that I often struggled to see for myself and I will never be able to tell them how much that meant. I've cleaned up the vomit of drunks with girls I will have in my life forever. Girls who will go off to be, no doubt, leaders of entire empires, putting Queen Bey to shame, and I know I'll be able to pop round with a bottle of wine at 2am and they'll always have room for me. I have spent three years battling a crazy, disorganised department bonding with some of the world's most talented and creative individuals. They've single headedly got me through crappy units, nasty tutors, mental tutors and my SODDING dissertation. They've got me drunk by 3pm on a Friday afternoon and have joined me in celebrating exams they didn't even sit. They are the brightest of the bunch and they're my friends; I'm not even sure how it's possible.

I have lived, for the past three years, with a group of women I would be insulting to merely call 'my friends'. Nah, them bitches is my sisters. They'll be on my hen do and at my wedding. At my 25th and at my 50th. We have battled everything from drunken spats, to broken hearts and even the scariest of diseases, and I admire them in a way I don't think they'll ever understand.

Equally, I don't think I could have been prepared for just how much you learn outside of the lecture hall. I have learnt that be it in a bar or in an office- if you love the people you work with (as I always did) you never really do a days work. I have learnt that you have to know when to cut your losses, life is hard enough without working at friendships that are actually toxic.

I have learnt that it really is ok if you fuck up, you just gotta pick yourself up, learn the lesson and move on.

I have learnt that falling in love is the easiest thing in the world and I have learnt that I can love as easily as breathing. But I have also learnt that I have my limits. I learnt that two people merely loving each other doesn't always put them on the same page. I have learnt that sometimes the love doesn't go but the relationship has to come to an end anyway, simply because it’s no longer working, and that you've just got to be thankful you got out before it got truly sour because there isn't always a bad guy.

 I have learnt that appreciating what you have is so much more important that crying over what you don't. I have learnt, finally after years of education, that if you actually dedicate yourself to your work, your mark will reflect that. I have learnt to be less afraid. I have learnt that sometimes life makes no sense, but I've also learnt that everything happens for a reason. I have learnt that what you have planned for life, life doesn't always have planned for you- you've just got to go with it. And I have learnt that sometimes you've just got to pull an Elsa and 'Let It Go'.

I have grown. I am not the girl I was three years ago, 18 months ago, six months ago or six weeks ago. I have made the most amazing memories, ticked a lot of crazy shit off my bucketlist, met people I never dreamt of meeting and lost people I never dreamed of loosing.

It's been the best three years, with the best people and even though the last six months have been tough in just about every possible way, all they've really done is made me tougher. I wouldn't change a single thing.

Years from now I'm going to look back on the night I dressed up as pumpkin for Halloween and walked home at 6am through the dusky streets of Manchester still in costume and laugh a laugh that starts in my belly and pours out of me.

I'll never be able to say thank you enough to every, single person I've met along the way, but I thank each of them with every inch of me. If the rest of my life chapters are like this one, I am going to live the greatest life I could possibly ask for.

-xo