It was a crisp March morning. The sky looked sporadic and confused. On one hand, it seemed calm but there was an army of black clouds lurking behind the sun ready to implode into the blue sky. The sun was wrapped in a series of clouds but still managed to send out powerful rays of warmth when she felt like it.

 To be honest, if I can describe the sky like that whilst sitting in the quiet seating area of my gym in the middle of Birmingham, I think it’s fair to say I’m dramatic.

I’m so dramatic that once I got food poisoning and my family didn’t believe me. They just assumed I was exacerbating my fatigue demeanour because that’s just who they think I am as a person. It wasn’t until I literally started to projectile vomit everywhere in the back of my Dad’s car that everyone was like oh shit, is she dead?

Since then I’ve always felt the need to explicitly state when I’m being dramatic and actually potentially dying because this whole situation may have given me trust issues. Like what are we teaching the youth of today? We’ll only take your injury seriously if you’ve passed out in the middle of Morrisons, a stranger is putting you in the recovery position in the fruit and veg aisle, kids are filming the situation so they can put it on Snapchat and the same said stranger is now giving you CPR.

Also, is it me or this amplified if you, either have immigrant parents or your parents have immigrant parents. Like why do they feel the need to one-up you, constantly? It’s like they all insist on playing my horse is bigger than your horse, but you have a goat and your patience is wavering with this analogy altogether. Like you can tell them you have food poisoning, but they won’t believe you.  At this point, the projectile vomiting seems more like a right of passage than a symptom. Must I stand in a pool of my own puke before you believe that I could potentially be dying from dodgy chicken?

But even then, I can guarantee most of our parents will deploy a divided form of sympathy, 40% is aimed at you and the other 60% is for their reputation that may or may not have gone completely down the toilet along with 98% of everything you’ve eaten in the past 48 hours. Your Mum will hold back your hair whilst telling you to avoid eye contact with Rani Aunty because if she finds out you’ve been throwing up, she’ll tell everyone you’re pregnant.

When you finally start to feel better the whole ‘my horse is bigger than your horse’ comes in to play. Everyone over the age of 42 will be like “you had food poisoning? In my day we didn’t even have food poisoning, we didn’t even have food and your privileged ass wants to throw it up?”

Liberty.

Having said that, I think there is a massive difference between drama and being dramatic. Drama is something you should avoid at all costs, but being dramatic has several understated perks. For example, the more dramatic your reaction is the more you’ll be able to laugh about the situation in hindsight.

 *Sips overpriced Cappuccino and flicks hair, dramatically*

 

 

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