So I have a hunch about this.  And before I dive in, I’m not talking about people who have clinically diagnosed mental illness. I’m talking us lay people who potter about life...

 I remember when I started to realise the reality of being female – aged about 6 and doing a running race for sports day.

So the other day, I got triggered - which brought to light something which felt apt and important to share.

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I’ve often found as I take off to go somewhere new that a sense of peace comes over me, a sense of freedom, a sense of truly living.

I’ve scooted around talking about this for far too long because I still find it all a bit awkward because it’s a bit of a divisive subject...

I felt for a long time like I was waiting for life to properly begin. It was a slightly bizarre experience because on paper everything was great...

For some of us, this period of the year is the most magical time. For others of us, this period of the year can bring up alllll of the stuff.

Fear.  We all know it. The tightness in the chest. The block in the belly. Sweaty palms. Heart racing. That signal that something isn’t right.

This was a genuine thought I had probably about 5 years ago. London is the issue. The grey skies are the problem. If I could move to Australia everything would be better.

I was looking through the old notes on my phone the other day and came across a scramble of words which I wrote when I was on the tube back from work.

Not just me? I’m glad to hear it. Well, I’m not because that sucks for you, but I’m glad because it affirms that I’m not alone. Smalls wins.

Oooof who did I trigger? Anyone get a little pang in the chest? Or a little flip of the stomach? Or just feeling a bit annoyed? Sorry, but equally, not sorry at all.

A couple of Tuesdays ago, I was feeling particularly tired. Like really tired. It was one of those days...

It’s interesting how we define ourselves. A few years ago, if someone had asked me who I was, I would have said: high-achiever, sporty, middle class, academic, Londoner.

Humans are just the most gorgeously complex, delicate, wonderful creatures. I’m sitting in a cafe in Marylebone and it’s a gorgeous September Sunday morning...

And just like that my trip in Mexico was over. Gone were the tacos. The insanely spicy chilli sauce which I poured by mistake all over my tacos and nearly died eating...

I never went out looking for breathwork. It found me. When it did, my life changed forever and just through.. breathing.

So I don’t like football. Like. At all. To be honest I find it boring and I don’t particularly enjoy the culture associated with it (shoot me).

That feeling of rejection. The worst right? The stab in the gut. That feeling of utter uselessness. Kind of feels like the world might be crumbling down on you? I feel you. I see you.

I didn’t know what I wanted to write about today. I just thought I’d start and see what came out...

A couple of months ago, I found myself in that icky period of a relationship when you kind of both know it probably can’t go any further but equally don’t really want to accept that or take any kind of step to take action.

I feel like I may well start sounding like a broken record if I carry on talking like this. That said, I’m willing to take the risk...

Despite having written that post last week about how we all have the choice to choose how we feel, which, I still maintain is 100%

You know what I realised the other day? Drumroll. I realised that literally nothing that happens in life can impact the way that I choose to feel.

I got my first real six-string, bought it at the five-and-dime, played it ’til my fingers bled, was the summer of ’69.

A couple of weeks ago, prior to being plunged back into the fog of another lockdown, I spent the day down at my sisters with her husband and my two little nephews...

I never really planned to go into banking. To be honest, I never really planned to go into anything.

Coronavirus. Self Isolation. Quarantine. Panic buying. Loo roll shortages. Protein shortages. OAT MILK shortages. The world has gone crazy.

On a Saturday evening a few months ago, at an unknown hour, I opened my mouth and muttered my first words in 2.5 days.

How on earth did the conventional, logical, maybe a little bit over achieving & control freakish, home counties science nerd come to decide that energy healing was actually a legitimate thing?

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There are moments in life that hit you like a tonne of bricks. You can be pottering along with everything seemingly fine until suddenly, out of nowhere you get a WhatsApp that makes your stomach flip and everything go a little blurry and tunnel vision like and suddenly it feels like nothing is fine anymore.

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It’s been 2.5 years since I hop, skipped and jumped out of the trading floor and into self employed life. In all honesty, I never thought I’d have the courage to do it - I used to wake up in the middle of the night at times in a cold sweat, equally panicked about the prospect of leaving as I was about the prospect of never fully claiming my life. 

I always thought it was down to my mildly intense anxious attachment stuff playing out... that and just low key hating dating apps. But then as I started to date a little bit more than I usually do... I was faced with some of the real reasons I'd been avoiding it for so long... and here they are..

It was a Thursday back in February 2018. The rain hadn’t stopped for months and London was right in the depths of what felt like the longest winter we’d ever had. The dark, damp days had started to getting to me so I’d taken refuge in a hot yoga class to warm up. The scent of palo santo blended with the sweat of 50 people pervaded the room. It was bonus day at work. They’d told us it had been a bad year and not to expect much. I peaked into the envelope, hopeful, as soon as they slid it across the table: £130k. But there I lay, in savasana, with hot, salty tears streaming down my face: I’d never felt emptier.

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Everything felt infused with irritation. I was doing all the things for everyone else that I thought I should be doing. I was doing all the acts of service. I was, technically, loving those people. And yet. It felt like every act I did, rather than being infused with love, was infused with a shards of glass shooting out of every plate I stacked.

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