麻豆约拍

I look to the floor, mumble my words, cough, scratch the back of my neck due to anxious discomfort, twist my head looking for somewhere to run, um and err to buy myself a few more seconds but in the end there’s no escape, I just have to say it: ‘I have a garden’.

The reactions vary from people raising their eyebrows, muttering something spiteful under their breath or looking directly into my soul with a mix of hate and envy. It’s quite a damning indictment of London’s living standards, but this is where we are - to admit to having access to a garden is up there with dropping the fact that your parents own a yacht into casual conversation. It’s a disgusting way to flaunt your privilege and I am rightly ashamed.

I generally feel ashamed saying this but, overall, over the last year or so I can say I’ve had quite a nice time. I’ve had a good lockdown, which feels far too close to saying 'I’ve had a pleasant pandemic'. The garden I refer to is roughly 50 foot squared and I share it with about 200 other flats but compared to the way some of my mates have had to spend lockdown I feel genuinely lucky to have it. Our building also has a roof ‘terrace’ which has 4 benches on it. We’d sit on the concrete tiles up there during the warmer months of the summer and talk to our neighbours about how it kind of felt like the pub.

I’ll take my tongue out of my cheek for a moment to acknowledge that I have been very lucky with the cards I’ve been dealt over the last year. I contracted the virus and recovered without long term repercussions, as did those of my family who contracted it. Whilst my live work as a comedian suffered, and I was not eligible for government support, I’ve managed to get by in ways that others haven’t and a huge part of that is down to good luck.

But the main things I feel fortunate for during this lockdown are related to the topic of my podcast this week - to coincide with Valentine's Day we are discussing love in lockdown.

Guests this week include Annie Lord, Vogue’s dating columnist who spoke about meeting people online during a global pandemic, a big-wig at Tinder who spoke of how the government consulted them on how to tackle the nation’s loneliness, and a sex toy company who have sold an awful lot of sex dolls.

We鈥檝e rubbed each other up the wrong way, fallen out, made up, the lot. But most importantly, we鈥檝e talked.

Whilst dating, Tinder and sex dolls are all a bit alien to me, love in lockdown is something I feel I’ve studied every day for the past 10 months. Since last March I’ve been locked in with what was then my 4-months pregnant girlfriend, and is now my girlfriend and child, and in that time I’ve learned more about our relationship and indeed myself than any other point in my life.

Before I get too soppy I should say there have of course been challenges. Our one bedroom flat is open plan, meaning my daughter being adorable is often a bit of a distraction to me trying to work. I’ve spoken to her about this and she’s ignorant about it at best. My partner has the body temperature of a reptile meaning she wants the heating on at all hours every day, she listens to Irish radio constantly (and during a year in which there has never been as much newsworthy content they seem to permanently be interviewing a pensioner in Derry who has lost something), and like a Mcdonalds employee who comes home and orders Burger King, her idea of entertainment is watching endless documentaries about babies and birth, despite being an NHS midwife who has just had a baby.

We’ve rubbed each other up the wrong way, fallen out, made up, the lot. But most importantly, we’ve talked. Not just to catch up over a meal, not just to pass the time between appointments. We’ve spent days, weeks, talking, understanding each other properly, giving ourselves a bit of time to explain ourselves and then listening in turn. And I feel incredibly lucky to say that I now know her even better than I did before.

I look back at the people we were before this pandemic and feel so differently about the couple we are now. In terms of myself, I was career obsessed, frantically chasing work in order to validate myself. I was terrified of my daughter being born because, since adolescence, my limited idea of myself had always been as a comedian. Every decision I made was geared towards becoming a professional comedian and then becoming a better one. Having a child didn’t fit into that and I was terrified. Then lockdown came, ripped that off of me and I realised there was a little bit more underneath, I’m a boyfriend, a friend, a son, a Dad, a brother and an uncle, the list goes on and if you put as much effort into those roles as you do your work, they give you an even greater feeling of validation.

It is of course a privilege that the last year has given myself and my partner the time to work on our relationship and our family, and I feel for anyone who hasn’t had that. Not many of us can say we’ve gained much in the last year aside from a bit of time and distance to reflect, and many haven’t even had that.

I look back gratefully on the last year as a time I could grow with my partner and my family. I’m eternally grateful to my partner for her patience, love and support during this time, and for bringing our little girl into the world. I’ll never be able to repay her with a gift anywhere near as wonderful.

If you feel similarly grateful to the people you’ve been around during this time, maybe Valentine’s day isn’t a bad time to let them know.

Of course it's a horrible, bloated, commercialised monstrosity of a holiday that commodifies the most intimate of feelings to the tune of billions. But you don’t have to spend anything. A few words will do. Maybe recommend them a new podcast series. If you’re really skint, like I am, why not write an article telling the 麻豆约拍 how much they mean to you. Happy Valentines Day Alannah.

Jacob Hawley is a comedian and the presenter and creator of 麻豆约拍 Sounds’s award-winning podcast Jacob Hawley: On Drugs. The second series Jacob Hawley: On Love is out now.

Jacob is also the creator and star of 麻豆约拍 Radio 4’s Welcome to Britain, a solo show based on his critically acclaimed debut stand-up hour Howl, with a follow up based on his second, sell out Edinburgh show ‘Faliraki’ which will air in 2021.

Jacob has rapidly generated interest as one of the boldest new voices on the circuit with his astute observations and political passion. His live shows have sold out at both The Edinburgh Fringe and at London’s Soho Theatre.

Twitter: @hawleyjacob

Instagram: @jacobhawley