I have been chatting with a friend at work today and discussing the relative merits of being like me (saying what I think) and like her (bottling it all up inside). She was really angry at something one of her friends had done but couldn’t broach the subject with them and instead was seething inside and it was making her really miserable for not being ‘strong’ enough.

She said ‘I wish I could be more like you and just say what I think but I can’t do it’. I mulled over her point and responded that actually sometimes saying what I think gets me in deep cackie too – it may not evoke exactly the same feelings of anger and misery in the same way but it sure ends up that way anyway.

I recounted a tale of an occasion when someone I knew had been taking advantage of my generally good and generous nature for years and one day, after what was really completely the final straw, I lost my temper (very unusual for me) and said what I thought about this particular incident. I actually felt quite pleased with myself afterwards because I didn’t even raise the things that had been slowly eating away at my patience and good humour for months. Weirdly, despite being quite ferocious in my professional surroundings, I’m really quite a softie in my personal life (in case you’d not guessed) and I generally just get on with my stuff while others fight.

What followed was the most miserable period of my life, second only to finding out my marriage was a complete sham. My character got completely annihilated by someone who I now know to be a completely irascible bully. For ages I valiantly soldiered on trying to keep the argument to the subject that had provoked my outburst but in the months that followed every aspect of my character and behaviour were torn to shreds by this person who was hell-bent on coming out on top.

The whole episode still isn’t really over for me unfortunately. I still get the odd shot across the bows although the worst of the vitriol seems to have abated.

So, when I got home and was cutting the grass in a semi-trance-like state, I was pondering the discussion earlier in the day and wondering with the benefit of hindsight would I have acted differently? Would I have continued to be taken for granted week-in week-out or would I have taken the same actions as I did?

I realised with utter relief that no matter how painful the whole episode, I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d allowed myself to be walked over one more time. It was my golden rule – developed in self-preservation after my marriage ended. ‘Don’t let the bastards grind me down’ and that’s where I still am today – I won’t be beaten down any more whatever the nuts and bolts of life throw at me. In the end I couldn’t offer any good advice to my work friend – my course of action had caused me just as much pain and misery, but of a different kind. So do you speak up for yourself or keep quiet in these circumstances? I just don’t know. All I know is that on behalf of my friend, ‘nuts’ to all of life’s fruitcakes.

Strangely I found this nut in a hotel room in Paris a couple of months ago and decided to pop it into my bag to photograph at some stage, well today's that 'some stage'!

Two years ago I was celebrating the longest day on holiday, while last year, I was rather proud of my pic but I now see its shortcomings - Patti over-exposed and Sally poorly lit....tsk must do better!