But at the same time I challenged myself, which led to growth. Old childhood trauma surfaced - feeling as a black sheep of the family, thinking I probably wasn't being accepted, and having my sleep disturbed by some noisy housemates.
Swimming with this bunch of beautiful souls felt like the highlight of my Australian adventure. Before meeting those Brits, I was unconsciously entertaining classic bitter single woman's thoughts: "Men are closed-off, feelingless, uncaring assholes just after sex and binge-drinking." Ok, I'm sorry for this dogma tripping, it happens to the best of us.
Perhaps it's only Karen's constant surveillance that bothers me about the commune living, nothing else. I shall ask myself - why does it do my head in so much? Maybe it's because I think "I'm 30 for fuck sake, I can cook my own dinner." ?