This is one of the hardest posts I've ever written. It's about my son, the Supreme Court ruling, and why, as a cis woman, I don't feel more protected by it. Most of all, it's about the human cost of turning people's lives into political debate.
Tag: writing
Apparently, There Were MORE Good Things.
After a couple of stressful weeks, I decided to stop and remember the good things instead. Somehow that list ended up including finally getting my medication, a surprise Starbucks bear, seeing the trees again, becoming weirdly obsessed with washing powder, breathtaking sunrises, and, of course... even more pigeons.
The Day the Light Came Back.
I thought I was writing about scaffolding. It turns out I was writing about friendship. This is the story of Squigeon, Goose, a year without pigeons, and why the day they came back brought more than just the sunlight back into my life.
I Asked the Universe for My Prescription. It Said NO.
A simple trip to collect my medication somehow turned into a desert expedition, a nostalgic taxi ride to 2010, a battle with Boots, a cluster headache, an invasion of bush crickets and, somehow, two jars of reduced SunPat peanut butter. Honestly, the universe just wasn’t on my side that day.
When the Chaos Stops
Turns out impulsively destroying furniture was an excellent distraction. Unfortunately, once the chaos stopped, my brain made up for lost time. Heatwaves, recovery, routine, British summer tapas and one very confused Jellycat croissant all somehow ended up in the same blog post.
The House Flipper Bedroom That Became Real
After falling in love with a bedroom I’d designed in House Flipper, my son wanted the bed from it. What followed was a day of heavy lifting, confusing instructions, cardboard battles, and the realisation that virtual DIY is considerably easier than the real thing.
The Impulsive Need to Destroy A Sofa
On Tuesday, all I had to do was go to the dentist. Instead, I got caught in a torrential downpour, emergency-shopped for a jacket, bought suspiciously specific DIY tools, declared war on a sofa, accidentally created a rage room, cleaned up a communal bin room disaster, and somehow still thought that was normal.
This Is Not Just Any Grief, It’s Marks and Spencer Grief.
When Marks & Spencer announced it was closing, I was surprised by how upset I felt. This isn’t really a story about a supermarket. It’s a story about friendship, Christmas sandwich competitions, Yorkshire puddings, grief, and how sometimes we leave pieces of the people we love in unexpected places.
Everything Is Anxiety But There Are Iced Americanos
This week I was anxious, trapped in a giant netted cage, fuelled by iced decaf Americanos, and writing essays about asexuality. Somehow, despite all that, blogging has started helping my mental health again. Life is weird, but I’ll take the motivation where I can get it.
Pride Month :- My Over 20 Year Struggle To Accept Asexuality
For over twenty years, I searched for an explanation that wasn’t asexuality. Maybe I hadn’t met the right person. Maybe I was a lesbian. Maybe it was my eating disorder. Maybe it would change. This is the story of how every alternative explanation failed, and why acceptance proved harder than discovery.
Absurd Universe 