My biggest regret is not taking life by the balls sooner. When I was younger, I did a lot of waiting and hoping. Not sure what for. A lift, maybe? I made for the most polite metaphorical passenger: I’d be the one chipping in for fuel, bringing snacks, helpfully unfurling the map and rolling the window down to ask for directions so the driver could get where they were going. I was so grateful just to be along for the ride, you see. I waited far too long to get my own metaphorical car and choose the destination myself. It took a while to sink in with me that the people having the most fun and achieving the greatest distances were, if not full-blown car thieves, certainly partial to a bit of joyriding.
It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there and I’m vegetarian. Which is not to say I regret being pleasant or have ditched kindly acts in principle. It’s just that, while I was busy making sure not to tread on everyone else’s toes, I ended up not being very kind to myself. This led to a lot of frustration and regret, purely through not being clear with others. I didn’t ask them plainly for what I really wanted or needed and I’m not sure how they were supposed to be able read my mind. Shocker: they weren’t. So now, I don’t hold back. I tell them exactly what I want, I plan for it, and while I won’t drive over you to get where I’m going (I spent a fair few years with tyre treads all down my own back as others revved up), I don’t really have time to slow down. Timidity isn’t a gentle trait, it’s more of a traitor. This mouse wishes she’d roared years ago.
- Tara's books You're Grand: the Irishwoman's Secret Guide to Life and Giving Out Yards: the Art of Complaint, Irish Style, both published by Hachette Books Ireland, are out now
