Why do we apologise for not fitting the standard mould?


I read Lucy Hawkins’ open letter to Katie Hopkins at the Guardian this week. Leaving the whole issue aside, what really struck me was this paragraph:

“I have an autistic son. He’s very sweet, polite, hard-working, kind and generally lovely. But yes, he does stare at people from time to time. When we are on the tube, occasionally I have to say to a member of the public that my son is autistic and that I’m sorry he is staring. The reaction is always kind and compassionate.” Continue reading

“The best lies about me are the ones I told.”

Spring morning in the new forest

It started slowly after a lovely day. Monday. Monday was the first true day of spring. We set out for an Extreme Easter Trail at Foxbury in the New Forest, arranged by Cadbury’s and the National Trust. It was extreme. Supergirl learned how to make fire with a spark, made smores (toasted marshmallows) over an open fire and I spilled hot coffee over my clean jeans because I overreached and thought I could manage a disposable cup. Continue reading

Every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out

black and white pinetrees

My four year old has not been particularly bothered by recent unwellness. She has experienced it all before, including watching me sit in bed sobbing so much that was subluxing my ribs. I grew up around people with chronic illnesses and the general approach was to protect the children from the impact it has on the sick adults. This meant that people often vanished without explanation. I was ushered out of rooms with doors closed behind me, sent on sleepovers or asked to go play outside, never knowing what was going on. I don’t plan to be a mysterious, unreliable parent who cannot be relied upon to show up. Continue reading

Log Entry: Winter Cold Day… who am I kidding, I am not counting the days

Bed side table with ereader, lemon water, medication and box of tissues

Trigger warning: Mention of suicidal ideation and suicide attempts.

My lingering winter cold has mutated into something very unpleasant for the last almost week. I have had an on and off fever for the last 5 days complete with chills and night sweats (that also happen in the day) that drench my clothes and bedding. I have lived on honey and lemon hot drinks and paracetamol with the occasional scoops of chicken broth, home made ice-lollies or soft toast thrown in. Continue reading


icy garden december 2014

It is easy to unravel. Get a hold of the right piece of thread, pull and pull and bit by bit it all comes undone. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being slowly unravelled.

People are often let down – by the system, by loved ones, by themselves and I do not plan to sit and wait for others to help or sit and complain because life isn’t fair and things do not work out the way they should.

I have much to be thankful for. I already hold enough happy moments to fill up more than one lifetime. I choose to be the kind of person who rises to challenges instead of dwelling on obstacles. I am not helpless.

I don’t do traditional new year’s resolutions, but if I had one, it would be this:

“Don’t wish to be normal. Wish to be yourself. To the hilt. Find out what you’re best at, and develop it, and hopscotch your weaknesses. Wish to be great at whatever you are.”
Lois McMaster Bujold, Labyrinth