I hate Mother's Day. There, I said it. It's a combination of the overwhelming anxiety, guilt and obligation that comes with needing to visit my own Mother, who is very ill and can't make use of the token chocolates, bubble baths and flowers the shops offer, and the deeply-embedded guilt I feel at receiving any … Continue reading Mother’s Day.
This post talks about miscarriage and may upset some readers.
Dear Mr Trump, I should probably start by congratulating you on your new role as President of the United States; that would be polite. I'm not going to do that. I'm not an American citizen, so I expect to receive a few messages telling me that your position is none of my business and I … Continue reading An Open Letter To Donald Trump
To the parents who have to hear about what my daughter has been through, be it because she has mentioned it to your children or because I explained that I couldn't watch your child on the day my Social Worker is visiting... Please, try to understand. I know that you don't want to hear about … Continue reading To The Parents Who Have to Hear About My Daughter’s Ordeal…
This is the story of how you became me; all the things that went wrong, and how they somehow made us a better person in the process. Child you have no idea. Look at you, seven stone something and five foot nothing, head in the clouds. You don't know that your life has been different … Continue reading An Open Letter To My Former Self