Actualising your dreams is the most terrifying thing in the world.
When I was younger my Grandad asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. “A writer,” I said.
“You’ll spend your whole life saying you’re going to be a writer. You either are one, or you’re not. So, are you?” He was rolling a cigarette as he talked, but paused in the silence of his full stop to raise an eyebrow and look at me. I carried on staring at his cigarette.
Lena Dunham’s Not That Kind of Girl made its way into my hands by loan from my cousin-in-law Hayley who assured me it was my kind of book.
In a world saturated by false idealised versions of reality thanks to social media, advertising, and ironically named “selfies” – which in my experience seem to depict anything other than an actual “self” – Dunham’s autobiography is blissfully refreshing. Her no frills honesty spoke Continue reading →