I’ve been deliberating over what to write about this week. However, I have the soundtrack to The Social Network on (Got to be some music by Trent Reznor, naturally) and I’ve had time to reflect this afternoon whilst walking halfway across Kendal to my car (My main plan in moving back there is to get a place as near to the centre as possible – so I don’t have to take the bloody car).

I’m digressing already. But that’s what I do in this sort of writing.

Incidentally, digressing has actually bought me neatly to the point of the post. I guess I’m not as good at this digressing lark as I thought I was….

Today, Sass is rambling on about:


We are quite often reminded of its importance nowadays, especially in work and relationships. Good stuff – except the word is paraded around so often that it seems to have got lost in ‘marketingspeak’, which makes it considerably less authentic to talk about being authentic.


In business life, we are oft-reminded that one of our key selling points is our uniqueness. When you bring a non-corporate, quirky or less-known type of business to the breakfast networking table, this uniqueness can quickly single you out from the suits and make you a talking point.

You’ve got what everybody’s babbling about.

However, while you’re rocking this ‘uniqueness’ ju-ju, there are other points to consider. Let me delve into my kind of overstuffed and slightly dodgy looking bag of life experiences.

*You know the kind of bags I mean – they hold everything, but you make a concerted effort to hide them behind a chair/table/Afghan Hound whenever the opportunity arises. They also tend to fall out from said hiding places and spill various contents all over the floor at rather inappropriate moments.*

When I was a teenager, I didn’t start out magnificently in the looks department. I had large glasses, even larger skirts and I had a bit of puppy fat. Ironically, the more I tried to fit in, the more I stood out like a gawky thumb.

Fast forward to the age of 18 – by now I had contact lenses, I’d dropped the puppy fat and I was 5’10” in flats. Complements from this era ranged from saying I should get into modelling to charming chat-up lines about having one of the best a**es in the Kendal area. I was a regular on the ol’Kendal ‘clubbing’ scene, and my height (I always wore at least 3 inch heels) combined with the fact I wasn’t exactly a trog made me kinda stand out. I began to learn to enjoy my particular brand of uniqueness and the attention it brought.

However, when it came to finding a boyfriend, uniqueness alone just did not cut it. I could never understand why I couldn’t find anyone. I was eventually reliably informed that it was because guys found me ‘intimidating’ because I was pretty and tall. Bah.

The moral of the story is: uniqueness is important, but if you don’t combine this with attempts to connect with the sort of people that you really care about, many people will simply admire you from afar.

Equally, trying to connect with people who simply don’t resonate with you is a waste of energy for both parties.

Keep being your weird and wonderful selves and remember – if you find you’re being your authentic self and those around you don’t ‘get it’ –┬áNot all guys like to date girls taller than they are (oh man up).