This post is a personal one.  I did the only thing I knew how to do when I was in pain and that was write, so here goes. One of my most cherished friends, Adam, passed away yesterday.  It is with an extremely heavy heart and tears rolling down my face that I type that. I am struggling to find the words to write, so instead I am going to tell you about him.  The first thing I want to say is that Adam was my biggest fan, my greatest supporter. From the day I met him. It stings knowing that he'll never read this, but I know he is watching over me as I am writing it. He shared all of my social media posts with his friends, always encouraging people to follow along. He was such a cheerleader for everything I did. I always felt really reassured because of this. He told me often how proud he was of me and it meant so much, knowing that I had someone who truly believed in everything I did. He would send me "daily reminders", he would call them, where he'd tell me that I was a

Adam: three years on

To my talented, imaginative, confident, loving, thoughtful, selfless, musical, open-minded, comical, curious, fearless, ambitious, enthusiastic, calm, impactful, beautiful boy, I miss you, and I still look for you in every room. Any sign that you've been around I grab and cling onto, for a slither of comfort, for an indicator that your spirit is in fact around and that you truly will never be 'gone'. Three years ago, my beloved Adam passed away . It feels unreal, typing that. How has it been three, whole years? That's over 1,000 days since you left us, since I had to learn how to navigate life without someone who gave me so much guidance, and grounding. You were a beautiful soundboard, someone who listened intentionally, and cared abundantly. You gave me encouragement whenever I felt discouraged and made me feel strong and capable when I was convinced I was weak. Failing that, you made me feel courageous just by being in your proximity - you were and are still such an i

Lone in London

On Thursday evening, I booked a last minute trip to London. By (very) early Saturday Morning, I was on the train, ready to embark on yet another solo adventure. Those that know me well, know that I am rather spontaneous. I haven't always been this way. When I was younger, I struggled with always needing the security of a routine. I think growing older, I have realised routine doesn't promise anything, so we may as well throw caution to the wind and have fun. I now thrive off change, new environments, conversations with strangers and what I like to call "formative moments". Formative moments to me are moments where I can literally feel my character building and core memories being created. They are moments I will tell my grandchildren about (if I have any) and will look back on with great fondness. On the 7:05am train to London St Pancras from Derby, I was sat next to a woman who was a little older than me, I'd say around 32. She was freshfaced, full of character,


Sonder, defined as "the realisation that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own". When I first took this photo on a recent trip to Rhodes, Greece, I was disappointed that a photo bomber had seemingly ruined the pretty view from the moving coach I was on. The sunsets lasted for what felt like a matter of seconds and capturing it as the doors swung open for a mere minute felt like an opportunity that shouldn't have been missed. As I quickly grabbed my phone whilst in awe of the beautiful view, this person happily strode by with a companion not far behind. "Damn", I thought to myself, the moment disturbed by the presence of another human (how dare they?) but on reflection, the individual made the shot, and encompassed so many feelings I felt whilst on this trip. When looking back at the photo, I couldn't help but have feelings of sonder. The realisation that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

Adam: one year on

Image One year ago, my beloved Adam passed away and I wrote about it on this blog . I don't write on this blog anymore, but I wanted to today, to reflect on the past year, grief, and what it all has taught me... if you want to know more about Ads, read the previous post here . I am sat staring at the photo above, wondering how I ended up here. You don't expect to be in mourning at the age of 21, for someone your age who you lost so tragically. How has the past year flown, yet dragged? How has he not been here for 365 days? So many questions swirling round my mind, and every time I really concentrate on the fact that he isn't here, it still feels so alien, even a year later. Like it cannot be fathomed, like it's so far out of any reality I expected to unfold. It hurts, but I am still numb at the same time. At the 6 month mark, I wrote about it. To him . I never shared it anywhere, but as part of this post, I want to reflect on what

Normal People

Over the past two nights I have binge watched the TV show Normal People. After hearing rave reviews, I knew I had to check it out, and to be honest, in it's own way, it was perfect. Emphasis on in its own way. Allow me to explain. Love isn't perfect. It never is. And that's the point of this whole show. To show an accurate, raw and honest depiction of love in the current age. To show how sometimes, even two people loving each other, isn't enough for a relationship to work, or even be healthy. I've heard people exclaim that they wish the ending was different, that they wish they ended up together properly, living their best lives. But in my opinion, that would have completely ruined the show, on reflection. As much as we ship Connell and Marianne, and want them to be together, it wouldn't have made sense for this nitty gritty drama to suddenly become an airy fairy romance tale with the picture perfect happy ending. It was never going to be that. Like I sa

How destiny encourages us to let go

Over the past few years, I have become such an advocate of fate. The idea that life you know is so fragile, because if you'd done one little thing differently, everything could be, oh so different. Yet, recently, my thoughts and feels on this have started to change. I began to consider how that fragility effects my mental health, and thus the actions performed by me. I began to question how the idea of fate makes me stressed, as I overthink every decision I make anyway. Thinking that something is such "fate" often persuades us to hold onto it, for a bit longer, even if it isn't right. "Oh but it felt just like fate!" or "it was totally in the stars!" = clouded judgement and stubbornness when it comes to things that don't align with that original belief. Ignoring signs, red flags and inconsistencies because they don't play into our romanticised idea of fate and what it holds... Instead, I have began to explore the idea of destiny. Ma