Happily Imperfect. Stacey Solomon

it helps you too. Your life doesn’t have to be perfect – far from it. You don’t need to be, look or even act a certain way to be happy.

      I’m going to celebrate all of my imperfections, and there are plenty of them! I’m a ‘smother’ (Smothering Mummy, as my boys call me), a buffoon of a girlfriend, a fairly idiotic daughter, and I’m incredibly lucky to be a telly personality too. It all goes to show that there’s no right or wrong way to live wa-hoo!

      Take from this book what you will. There is no single way to do things. I haven’t been through major trauma: I just want to share my journey with you, so that you know the real me, the unfiltered me, the far-from-perfect me. I want to pull open the curtain of celebrity because the people on your screens are just that: people – exactly like you. They’re no better or worse than anyone else. I’m passionate about breaking down barriers of all kinds – class, race, sexuality, whatever else holds people back or separates us. We’re all human. Let’s give ourselves a flippin’ break from judging others and – most importantly – ourselves.

      Let’s go on annual leave from being told how to look, what to wear and who to be. Let’s say thanks but no thanks to the advertisers and social media telling us how to do or be anything. We don’t need to be thinner, richer, younger (!) or have a cut-glass accent. Those things don’t make you special to others. You being the only ‘you’ is the single most important thing that makes you stand out from the crowd. What a boring time we’d be having if everyone was the same.

      Sometimes labels overshadow our talents. I was lucky enough that that wasn’t the case when I stepped onto the X Factor stage. I was last in the queue of thousands. I’d been waiting in an audition room packed with people until there was no one left except me, Zach and Mum. You can imagine what I looked like after spending sixteen hours in that space with my one-year-old. There was sick on my Converse trainers. My hair had been pulled every which way, and I wondered if I would ever actually get up there in front of the judges.

      When they finally called my name, there was a rush of ‘Oh, my gosh, this is really happening!’ My heart was pounding and my mouth was as dry as if I’d eaten a bowl of sand. I felt my lips roll up like a blind – they literally curled up. I was so scared that the words of my song seemed to have vanished from my brain.

      Standing there in front of the four people who would determine what happened next in my life, and the huge audience, I opened my mouth. Although the judges were surprised when they heard the girl from Dagenham’s singing voice, the stereotypes didn’t affect the opinions of Simon Cowell and the other panellists: Dannii Minogue, Louis Walsh and Cheryl Cole.

      In the moment when all four gave me the thumbs-up, I realized I didn’t need to be perfect: I just needed to be me. Phew! I didn’t have to waste my energy trying to be someone I’m not. Just then it was truly amazing to be me: Stacey Solomon, X Factor contestant, ex fish-and-chip-shop worker, single teenage mum. Just me.

      By being totally myself, I hope I can encourage others to be themselves. The prejudice I’ve faced in my life has often pushed me in the direction I’ve needed to go. When I was labelled a single mum, when people tutted at me breastfeeding Zach on the bus aged eighteen, I used that feeling to drive me forward, to make a success of myself, pay my taxes and be a good mum.

      When people said I’d never make anything of myself because I had a baby, I wanted to prove them wrong. I have a rebellious side, which was often seen as negative when I was growing up, but it worked in my favour. It can work in yours too. If you feel like you don’t fit, like other people can’t see how incredible you are, choose who you want to be, and prove them all wrong.

      We don’t have to be incredible, amazing or plain fabulous all the time. That would be draining. I try to look at the positive in each situation, and over time, I’ve found it the easiest way to be. I’ve discovered it’s much easier to let go (most of the time!). Getting angry or frustrated uses energy I could be channelling into making life better.

      Happiness has become my ‘neutral’ state. When I smile, act in a friendly or kind way, I feel I’m owning my state of mind, regardless of what somebody wants to say or do to me. I’m more in control of how I react. When I’m confronted with a tricky situation, I try to ask myself, ‘Is it worth getting angry over this?’ It almost never is. But, of course, there are times when I need to stand up for myself, and certain situations in which anger and grief are necessary. Life isn’t always about smiling.

      Every day I wake up alive and healthy, I feel I’m a winner. I feel privileged to be here on this amazing planet, but things don’t always go to plan. Stuff happens. Life throws a curveball. That’s when trying to see the glass as half full can help. It’s helped me through a few challenging times.

      Choosing to see the positive isn’t always easy.

      I find it extremely hard every time I go to Romford’s Queen’s Hospital children’s ward, where my sister works, where I act silly to entertain the children. While I’m with them, I’m thinking those kids shouldn’t have to be there: they should be outside playing, but life doesn’t always go that way. And it often strikes me that many of the children are the happiest, most positive humans I’ve ever met. There are some things you cannot change, so I try to focus on the amazing work the doctors and nurses do, the love and dedication of the parents and the resilience of the children. I walk out more aware of how extremely lucky I am to have healthy boys. It brings real perspective to everything.

      My book is all about affecting the things you can change, like your state of mind, but if you want to see the ultimate act of positivity, then visit people in hospital. They’re the real heroes in action.

      Life is imperfect. I am imperfect. We all are. I’ve learnt to love my quirks and idiosyncrasies, and those of my family and friends. Our faults can also be our biggest assets. My trusting nature means people take advantage of me sometimes, but it makes me kinder, and more open to others. Without it, some of the amazing folk I’ve met along the way might have passed me by.

      I’m not going to tell anyone how to live or how to be happy, but I can share what works for me, as a flawed mum and partner, who occasionally shouts at her children in a usually messy home. Let’s not drown in life hacks, personality hacks, parenting hacks – hacking ourselves to bits – because that stress is the worst. And let’s remember to stop getting stressed about how stressed we are!

      It’s been a massive relief for me to accept that I probably won’t ever have an Instagram-perfect home, face, body or partner. I probably won’t make my family organic juices throughout the day, throw a fake reindeer skin over my spotless designer sofa or waft through my Moroccan-inspired garden in a silk kaftan. Just isn’t happening.

      Let’s celebrate being capable of love, and embrace the imperfections all around us. Let’s be kinder. What would the world look like if we were kinder to each other? It would be … almost perfect.

      This book is about how my imperfections have helped me to live my best life. Thanks to them, I can make better choices about how to feel, what to focus on, and enjoy life.

      I may be only twenty-nine, and I’ve broken a lot of rules, but I’ve learnt so much about love, being a mummy, and how to keep a smile on my face when the world seems bleak. Now I know what I need to do on my down days, when I’ve got Mum Guilt or I’m just sad, I want to share how I get through feeling hormonal, emotional or plain exhausted.

      I’ve also decided to stop comparing myself with others or focusing on negatives. Halleluyah! I suffer from anxiety, so I’ve had to learn how not to worry about superficial things: it takes practice.

      I want to bring you into my huge, crazy Jewish family. Today we would be labelled a ‘broken family’ but we didn’t fall apart when Mum and Dad divorced.

      Dad bought a house opposite us so my sister, my brother and I could live half the time at Mum’s and half the time at his. Then he remarried and we grew into a blended family. It wasn’t conventional but it worked. That was where I came from – and that’s me.

      This is an