This Girl Can’t
Woah woah, woah, let me explain. Ok, so first off- I’m taking it you’ve already seen the campaign by now? If you haven’t, then sneakily click below and pretend like you’ve known about it all along. I won’t tell, don’t worry. In fact, even if you’ve seen it, watch it again. Go on. It’s good.
So- now we’re all up to speed… What do you reckon?! Pretty awesome, huh? I giggled an nodded my way through the tv ad- “yes!!!” I muttered under my breath. I felt like I’d made friends with the women on the tv. I felt like Sport England and the National Lottery Fund had crawled into my brain and completely understood me and my attitude to working out.
I think it taps into the emotions of all women who like to keep themselves feeling healthy and happy at absolutely any level. You did good, campaign. You did good.
Now then, as someone who advocates everything this video is championing, I’m almost certain you’ve all been logging in every day, waiting with baited breath to hear my thoughts about it.
Naw, go on, at least pretend you have a little bit.
Well, thank GOD, here I am with a little something to add to it. The Project HB take on it. And yes- about 3 weeks later than everyone else’s response…. well you wouldn’t expect anything else, let’s be honest. That’s why we get along so well ;)
Ok, ready? Here ya go.
This Girl…. Can’t.
When I was little, This Girl was told she was slow. This Girl was told she couldn’t kick or catch a ball very well. This Girl was “too large” for gymnastics, aged 6, and held back from her stage 2 badge. This Girl couldn’t swim (seriously- I was made to float about in the baby pool with a couple of other girls, rather than being given a chance with the rest of the class…. eventually teaching myself to swim aged 24).
This Girl scored one goal during a long and painful (enforced) netball career, and it was in the wrong net. This Girl was taken out of tennis lessons and made to bat a tennis ball against the wall, so others could get along without her messing up their practice. This Girl was told she couldn’t really do too much, and made to sit out, because she needed an inhaler.
Well now, This Girl is big.
And…. This Girl still can’t.
This Girl can’t get up gracefully when she’s fallen over
This Girl can’t do a muddy obstacle race without being left a shell-shocked wreck and eating a Burger King to recover
This Girl can’t finish a marathon in less than 6 and 1/2 hours
This Girl can’t do a pull up without some serious muscle to help her
This Girl can’t give a talk to a room full of supportive women, about women’s health and fitness, without shaking with nerves
This Girl can’t do a yoga balance
This Girl can’t cook a single thing without it going wrong somehow
This Girl can’t.
Can’t can’t can’t.
Blah blah BLAH.
Well. Guess what, bitches? This Girl does it all, anyway.
This Girl DOES. Even when she can’t.
So, here’s my two fingered salute to PE teachers and cross country club and year 7 swimming lessons and being made to feel little, shameful and embarrassed of my puppy fat and asthma. Here’s my head being thrown back with laughter when I’m uncoordinated, slow, or finish last.
Here’s This Girl, covered in mud, singing to herself to keep her spirits up, and giving it a bloody go
And here’s This Girl, rocking a post-workout blowdry, happy as the sun, brimming with quiet self-confidence and a healthy dose of self-love. Here’s This Girl enjoying being a goon. Not giving a single shit.
This post is This Girl demanding you do the same, please.