Late one Friday night, a 23 year old girl lay in her messy childhood bedroom, hair in a top knot, pyjamas on, typing away on a Mac book which due to its temperature should be condemned,  listening to True by Spandau Ballet partially fuelled by white wine. Painted the picture? I know it sounds like something out of a rarely watched, but cult teen rom-com. But this, at present, is me.

Why do I find it hard to write the next line… well Tony Hadley I will tell you why. No one ever really knows whats going to happen or why or how. So many things have happened this week to make me feel all different kinds of things and I need to get them out of my head. I’m not going to pretend this was an extensively planned piece of writing, but sometimes things can’t be ordered or justified they just need to be noted. Documented that on that day and at that time I felt that way. Or whatever tense that last sentence needed to be in to make sense.

I feel angry at the world and how cruel and unfair it can be, how where you are born even in 2017 can be a life or death sentence. How some people can be so blinded by greed and fear that they start to lose their humanity. How they can fundamentally lose sight of what it is that makes us different from them, we should care, we should help those in need, we should stand up in presence and in policy. We can not, and I will not, be crushed by people that have already lost their humanity, have lost what it is to value a human life. I am not going to fear living my life or doing what I feel is right or standing up for what I believe in. I want to be thoughtful, kind and make a difference to other people’s lives both now and in the future when the next generations inherit this planet.

Now if you have stayed with this post thus far I can imagine your thoughts have strayed to… ‘oh my, it started so light and is she really subtly dissing trump and terrorists whilst listening to an 80’s classic’ yes, yes I am. But in other less politically charged news, I felt happy this week about my progress at work and that me and my family are getting on so well. I felt proud of my friends doing good and making positive changes to their own lives and other peoples. I also felt a pang of heartache when seeing an old couple holding hands walking in a super market aisle and maybe just a little sigh at at the sight of heart shaped paraphernalia.

Human’s are strange things, we have this unavoidable nature to not be alone. It is not just romantically or physically alone but the feeling that comes with wondering if you are the only one to be feeling a certain way. It is at that point the millennials, just like me, take to the internet to highlight their profound thoughts… hola! I suppose that is part of the reason I write some self reflecting brain babble on the internet, it is a search, it is unapologetically outwardly looking for some form of confirmation that your part of something bigger.

Apart from this ‘alone but not alone’ ridiculous non problem promblemness I am actually enjoying being a single person at the moment. I am finding a new level of respect for myself. It isn’t that I didn’t respect myself before, but I was definitely disillusioned as to how someone should be treated and feel about themselves in a relationship. So although sometimes its nice to have the confirmation that your not the only one, sometimes being the only one for a while is beneficial for your heart in the long run.

I know, its like an page long stream of contradictory thoughts. It has been an emotionally odd week.


And now bed.



Today as I walked into work I was greeted by what can only be described as the physical representation of St. Valentine’s projectile vomit. Cards, balloons, mugs, plates and every other imaginable object with a heart plastered on it. All to the theme tune of Katy Perry’s teenage dream. Now in retail its like every holiday is on acid but this kind of made me feel uncomfortable and mildly wishful at the same time – I know I hate myself.

Firstly let me just lay it out, I am a romantic at heart – flowers any day of the year would do me, but the v-day hype creates a very uneasy atmosphere in the minds of many women. The v word, like voldemort or vagina, which yes I have already mentioned once, is not something I’m overly comfortable with saying repeatedly. Honestly, yes, I would probably be pretty happy if a gorgeous male appeared on my doorstep a week on Sunday with some type of cuddly toy, but that is more just my weak disposition than anything else.

After seeing a woman literally entangle herself in v-day giant helium balloons I thought – “what are we really doing here, is it worth being publicly trapped in ribbons?” and this induced many more questions and ideas about the ‘normal’ 14th of Feb festivities. This prompted me to ask everybody I spoke to over the last few days what they really thought of this lovey-dovey-commercially-charged tradition.

My mini research found that most people say they really aren’t bothered, that love should be shown to those you care about everyday of the year. However, there were a number of people, that like myself, wouldn’t hate it if there was some romantic surprise element amiss their public defiance of the day. Basically men, we can live with out it, we don’t expect much, actually in my case my expectations are literally non-existent, but if you wanted to get us a card or some flowers your going to earn major brownie points.

I am not one to conforming to commercially charged capitalism fuelled traditions but in this case I woefully make an exception… oh and christmas (who doesn’t love santa?!?). Although my v-day will probably be spent alone, if you can make it a little bit more special, for that someone special, no one is going to be annoyed or slightly give you the cold shoulder and use the word “fine” because deep down they were hoping you would have some kind of romantic epiphany.

My advice – be happy, if you care about someone let them know and have an extra snuggle on the 14th, just to gloat your couple status to all those less loved up than yourself if nothing else. But seriously love is a wonderful and magical thing and if your lucky enough to have it why not celebrate? If your single I am also not opposed to self appreciation v-day… that could catch on. I will be self appreciating myself with a gossip girl binge, possibly wine and much to much hot chocolate with marshmallows if that man doesn’t show up!

Happy 14th day of the second month in 2016!

Age: 22

Age. Some say its just a number, other people see it as an important measure of our time on this planet. It’s used to categorise us, defines when we can legally do things and is our own period of history. To be honest, personally, I don’t really know what I think of the whole concept.. surprise surprise. But what I do know, is that its a comparison device used by my brain to highlight what everybody else the same age and younger is doing and has already accomplished. This teamed with social media, a vessel for this information to reach my eyes, induces a mild panic that goes a little something like –

“Oh god, she just bought a car – I cant even drive… no way is he engaged (sits in bed alone watching netflix and  begins to unwrap the foil of another kitkat) *scrolling, scrolling, scrolling* aww they got a puppy – I want a puppy oh wait I can’t have a pet because I still live at home gaahh.. maybe I could sneak a kitten in and just keep it in my room.. no wait would that be cruel?? (falls asleep at 4am dimly lit by the laptop screen.)”

I am very happy for other people’s success, tickled in fact. Okay so my sarcasm is slightly dry but its hard not to compare, don’t you think? I am always on social media, so really this is some weird kind of self inflicted self depreciation. So maybe its not all about age, it’s about the onslaught of information that we share and see. We are on our own journey and there isn’t a timeline we need to stick to of school-graduate-boyfriend-job-engaged-married-baby-live-die blah blah or whatever else is the norm. We have to do our own thing regardless of if it fits into a Facebook tick box or not.

I do however, going back to age, have a penchant for “22” by Taylor Swift. So I don’t know about you but I’m feeling just doing what the f*** I want and not conforming for at least the rest of my twenties. That post lost all sense of direction.. but I think that’s kind of the point.