My Hands Must be Broken

My hands must be broken 

Told they aren’t working as they should 

Maybe it’s my shoes? 

The reason for my slips

I’d run to H&M if they sold the right gloves or shoes 

The ones to give me grip 

Chalk my hands, strengthen that grip 

Climb up the rope of life 

End up strangling myself instead

Tell me how to fix it

Show me how to get a grip 

Give me the tools 

I’m struggling to find them 

My hands must be broken 


Man Up

I’ve stopped wearing skirts

I’ve stopped wearing dresses

It’s my gender that’s my weakness

My visible flaw, a burden I have to carry.

To man up is the solution

An answer to my prayer.

Cover up and find a way 

To grow some balls and hide away

I thought the problem was the problem 

But I’m told it’s the person that’s the problem 

My gender is the problem

I have to find a way. 

Poem: Moving Forward

If your not moving, no one can see if you exist No one will notice someone not moving

Keep moving 

Even if you have no idea what you are doing, someone will notice to offer help or guidance 

And you keep moving

Shit hits the fan… Keep moving because we’re gunna come out of this alive 




Motivated by unknown adventure, furious at the lack of perfection,

To want one without the other, stability becomes immobility.


To have both, keeps us marching forward 

Further than the others.

Keeps us moving, keeps us living

Gives us purpose.
This is my first attempt at trying to write creatively. So be nice ha! Any constructive criticism is welcome!! 

Are you a caregiver for someone with an eating disorder & over the age of 18?

As part of my Master’s degree thesis, I am looking into:

‘The impact of positive reappraisal coping on the wellbeing of caregivers of those with an eating disorder’
The survey is completely confidential and anonymous. To participate in this research study you must be over the age of 18 and must consider yourself as a carer for someone who has an eating disorder, whether you are a family member, partner or friend.

Please clink on the link above to take part.

Any questions please do not hesitate to contact me:

Thank you so much for your time.


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Postulating Love

Some people are so scared of love, as if they have no idea what it’s really about. I think everyone has their own definition of what love is. 

But I think some people create a fake definition, so they think they fee love they think they know what it is.

Quotes like

If you’re not obsessed with someone then why are you with them?! 

Well do you have to be obsessed? Do you sacrifice your life for theirs, do everything that accomplishes their dreams whilst you leave yours by the way side? 

I’m sure we all feel that we have sacrificed  for the people we ‘loved’ in the past. Felt like after all you’ve done for them, they can still be that asshole and leave you behind, you become second. 

I mean maybe this is a bit extreme, maybe you can mutually be ‘obsessed’ with one another that you both make small sacrifices to help each other reach your combined dream. 

Or is that just being a decent human being? Not obsessed. 

I don’t feel you have to be obsessed with someone in order to be with them, let alone love them. 

Some people are very involved in their relationships to the point that their personality disappears, and becomes blank, that the only thing going on in their life is their partner. Myself? I would hate that, probably one of my biggest fears, losing who I am to someone else. Maybe I’m too cynical, and this is the sweetest, most adorable thing ever! Why shouldn’t this person, who has found their soul mate, not celebrate it and share it with you? 

Maybe I’m too scared that I’ll lose my independence, having to check if I can do something, make sure their okay, be responsible for someone else’s happiness. 

Maybe I’m just in a really good place in my life that I’m focusing on myself, being responsible for my own happiness and not waiting for someone else to create my happiness for me. 

There is still the innate feeling in me that I want to share that part of me with someone else, have someone to care about, to feel that feeling of love again. 

But I feel that I’m waiting until I know, I feel that’s it’s so right and I’m sure he’s the one. Or is that a little hopeless romantic? Thinking theirs going to be a Hollywood moment where we run into each other as part of a sickly rom com… kinda do want that to happen, think everyone does deep down. 

I am just going to take it as it comes and not expect too much or too little. I’m sure I’ll know it when I feel it and finally stop second guessing myself and feeling that I deserve something better all the time. Removing myself off this ridiculously high pedestal that I’ve put myself on, using it as a protection, a defence, so I don’t get hurt or disappoint someone. 

13 reasons why it’s not your fault

I do not think, to an extent, that 13 reasons why romanticises and glamorises suicide.

It is as if as soon as the subject of mental health, suicide, is brought to the public’s attention, no one wants to talk about it. Everyone is quick to point the finger at a girl who took her own life, shes being a bitch, like how dare she ruin someones life like that. The reason for that reaction… well I think sometimes you see yourself in one of those characters that Hannah Baker mentions and that scares us..

So, instead of taking blame for our actions we turn it, say that it is making the topic of suicide glamorous. If you strip everything done to the bone, you see the pain that the suicide passed on, you see how many people it affected. None realising the consequences of their actions.

All thinking “omg.. i would never do that to someone else? could you?”… “uh why did she react like that, haha omg that is something jane would do…”

Yeah, because it is not your fault, and you can name 12 other reasons why you are such a good person and supportive and you have your bff…. yup everyone else is with you…. no one can think of one reason why they would have anything to do with someones else suffering.

It is a natural instinct to protect yourself and not take blame, as that will only damage our own ego. Most of us can take stuff in our stride, others cannot. Everyone is different.

I think the people who chose to say that it had made suicide a ‘good’ things is BS. I’m sorry but it makes me feel that they have no idea of the extent of the pain it takes to get to that moment, or the fact that cannot fathom the thought of death, let alone taking their own life when they have so much to live for.

This is, of course, no fault of their own. They are entitled to that opinion, as I, am entitled to mine.

Another reason that this programme is bringing up issues, is that people are talking more about mental health, more about what signs to look for. Which is great. But no for the government, as all of a sudden depression rates in adolescence will increase, not because people are faking it, but more people are becoming aware of their own feelings and aren’t embarrassed to have these feelings.

When I was a young adolescent even till I was 20, depression was a taboo word. No one ever really spoke about it, I used to think it was a horrible nasty, aggressive and relentless, tbh i couldn’t fathom the actual idea of depression, as I had no idea what it actually meant.. Now, I understand, I have empathy for those who have depression. I cannot judge as I haven’t walked a mile in their shoes.

We as a society should consider shit before pointing the finger because its the easiest option, the option that will make us good human beings.

If you feel you may be responsible, or may have affected someone negatively, don’t look back at that moment, instead, you do something nice and good for someone else. Start a positive chain of events and realise the impact you can have on someone’s day, year, life.

I Carry Your Words

I am by nature a dealer in words, and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity. These words hold in my mind on a continuous basis. Unable to offload this burden, unable to shift the sadness, these words are what I experience. Swirling around, screaming from the inside.

I am by nature a dealer in words, fogged by the impact settled in bliss. These words are what I experience. I perceive my world different to you, unable to communicate.

You are by nature a dealer in words, you hold the most powerful drug known to humanity. You lead with no caution dealing your poison, unaware settled in bliss. Able to offload, able to shift the sadness. Now I carry your words, these words are what I experience, what I feel, what I am.

You perceive the world with everyone else. Meshed by constraint. Unwilling to stand out. The words you have dealt me, obvious to all. Eyes staring, words flowing to their minds, impact is heavy without a word to be said. Silence, words aren’t needed here. The labels are obvious, I carry them for all to see.

I am by nature a dealer in words, I deal with apprehension. Unblinded by bliss, aware of the pain, the power, the words. I carry your words, cemented upon me, the weight unbearable.

Unbreakable, I carry your words. What I experience in life are those words in my mind, consistent, unforgiving. I am crippled, the drug I cannot shake, I need it to achieve, push myself, to win. Destructive motivation, a constant battle never to be won.

You held the power, the drug I never wanted, the drug I will never forget. You are a dealer in words, callously sharing your words. Untroubled by the impact. Powerless, I carry your words.



Open Blog: Struggle With Myself

Disclaimer: This is part of an open blog where people share their stories, this is a story sent to me by a follower anonymously, please read, leave feedback etc. 

I feel like I need to express my experiences with anxiety, being diagnosed with Asperger’s and the turning point that of me STRUGGLING with anxiety to now just experiencing it and thriving from it.

After watching a series with my girlfriend on Netflix called ’13 Reasons Why’ it’s changed my perception on how I honest I want to be with myself about myself. I don’t feel like I’ve ever been truly honest about myself, not even in my own head. There is a lot deeper shit I could get in to but for now I want to say something about anxiety as everyone feels it.

I’ve suffered with anxiety my entire life. And although people say school are the ‘best years of your life’ I struggled through every single year of secondary school. I used to wake up every day with a headache due to worry. Even if I woke up feeling fine, I would worry about getting a headache so much that I would give myself a headache. I went to different school to all my mates so that was a shitter from the get-go. I struggled day to day at the start but just put it down to the fact we were all new and everyone was having a shit time. As time went on I still found myself struggling not to pretend to be sick every day to just get a day at home where I didn’t have to a thing apart from play on my ps2. It got to the point where I wouldn’t even ring my mum pretending to be ill and just get the bus to my buddys house and either chill with him or just walk a couple miles back to my house. The anxiety then grew as I knew that I had it in me to just skip school and didn’t have to convince my mum, which forced me to make a decision every day. Obviously with my shitty attendance, my school work suffered heavily and pressure from teachers grew, adding to my already packed folder of ‘why me’ worries. I now know why I didn’t get man the fuck up and get my head down, but we all have regrets and secondary school is definitely my number one.

I was more focused on being a fucking legend outside of school at this point anyway. I only cared about being out and about, doing dumb shit with my mates and building a reputation of being a little cunt. I just thought to myself ‘I’m naturally intelligent, I’ll land on my feet’. I showed no ambition, I was too scared to. The thought of getting a job and working with people I didn’t know, doing things id never done, 5 days a week fucking TERRIFIED me. This feeling pretty much crippled me up until recently. Even after I got my first full time job, my current job, knowing I may have to do something I had never done before killed me.

I used to blame the fact my life wasn’t moving forward on the fact I had been in trouble with the police and had been in and out of court for years. When anybody asked me if I was working or anything I would always say how hard it was to get a job on bail. Which in fairness was almost impossible. Although I wasn’t actually trying as hard I could be due to the fact I was more than happy to just live at home, on the doll, doing fuck all through the day and going out with my mates when they finished work in the evening.

Despite all the tough times I went through whilst being on bail, it may have provided the biggest turning point in my life. My mum had never told me at the time, due to me being such a difficult twat, but numerous teachers at my school had approached her about maybe getting me assessed for autism. She thought I wouldn’t want that sort of label. Which is right, at the time I couldn’t think of anything worse for my street cred. But due to the position I found myself she thought it might help keep me out of jail so I complied. To begin with I didn’t think I was any different from anybody else and was only going along with it to help myself in the case. It wasn’t until I went to a few sessions at an autism place (I don’t know what the name was) I realised that pretty much everything they were saying to me was relatable. I went through a series of tests and low and behold I was diagnosed with Asperger’s. They told me I was destined for a life of anxiety and was a lot more likely to become depressed then most people. Which I’m determined not to be. My thought process pretty changed the exact moment I realised that I had autism. Rather than seeing myself as someone who couldn’t do something or was just shit at stuff in general, I decided that I have as much chance as anyone at doing something, I just might to approach it differently.

The first time I was able to overcome an inability to do something was a good day. I had been working in a butchers for a few months and in my apprenticeship coursework it required me to make sausages. By now I had acknowledged that I will have to learn new shit but hadn’t come across anything that required much skill. Making sausages does. My boss walked me through the process step by step and made it look painfully easy. When it came to it, I did every single aspect of it wrong in the most pitiful way. She was showing me how to link them in the slowest of motion and I still couldn’t get it. I went home that night feeling like fucking shit. I was sat in my mums car on the home (obviously I couldn’t drive) telling her about how I think this is another thing that I’m just destined to fail at. Like riding a bike, playing the keyboard or anything else I had attempted once, failed at, and just left it alone. It was all I could think about all night, and I spoke to my mates about it that night. I went to work the next day dreading it. And once again I failed at it. It wasn’t until a few days after I tried again. It just clicked and I managed to successfully link a whole mix of sausages. I had never felt the feeling of succeeding before. I had never been really good at anything. I always took solace in the fact I was never the worst at things like football at school, or I’d be happy if there was just one more person who was fatter than me in the class. As long as I wasn’t last I was content. But when it came to testing myself individually I had never succeeded.

Since this day, after overcoming such a tiny task, my self confidence has grown every day. I’ve come to realise that anxiety is relevant. Whereas I used to be scared to even leave the house, now the things that make me nervous are only progressive. I know I will never fully get passed anxiety and I feel it even in the smallest of tasks. Reversing my van at work up to the loading bay, trying new things in the gym, the fact I even go the gym is something I never thought I would do. The difference is now when I feel anxious I get on with it, as I know its just a part of my autism rather than the difficulty of the thing I’m doing. Instead of letting the anxiety get the better of me and bowing out, I take it on the chin and fucking man up and get on with it. And I couldn’t feel any better for it. I have a good job in which I’ve progressed no end, I drive a fast car that I’ve modified myself, I have a lush girlfriend who I’ve been with for a year and half. I went from being 17 and a half stone to 14 stone at 6ft5 and feeling, and looking, better than I ever thought I would. EVER.

I learnt that anxiety will be there, no matter what I do, and that in no way would I let it stop me from doing anything again. I still have shit days, but in regards to actually trying new things, eating new foods and meeting new people I’ve deemed it irrelevant.

I doubt anyone gives a shit but as long as you know that your not the only person to feel anxiety about the stupidest shit. And as much as it feels like a barrier you can’t break, it isn’t actually a thing, so treat it as such.


Open Blog: Your Story

I have had a few messages about how I started writing my blogs and people reaching out telling me they appreciate the subjects I write about and how they would love to write a blog but just don’t have the time to maintain one, or maybe challenge yourself to share your story, to tell people about your experiences.

Well here is your opportunity. I am looking for people who want to share their story, whatever that may be, a letter to a friend, a heartbreaking experience, an insight into a day in your life, a proud moment you want to share… anything. I will post it on my blog site anonymously or with your name, it is up to you.

I will only post a selective few (depending on how many people reach out).

Get your story out there, be heard, feel like you have expressed yourself, you never know it may just motivate you to start your own blog or to share your story to others in real life. Your story is important.

Feel free to contact me over Facebook, Twitter or  Email:

Fierce & Feminine

I have always posed the question to myself; am I feminine enough? I look at myself compared to others and think maybe I’m not but then what do we mean by feminine? I think of being feminine as having strong qualities such as being head strong, resilient and confident. Being feminine also has connotations of wearing dresses, skirts, wearing colourful clothes, having perfect hair and makeup, now these are the qualities that I feel I do no possess. I do not feel comfortable in dresses and skirts unless I’m on a night out with the girls and I mostly wear black clothes as I feel they are the most flattering for my shape and draw less attention to my body as I am not the most confident with it.

Recently some people have mentioned that I dress like ‘man’ or a ‘lesbian’ and that I’m ‘not that feminine’. This got me thinking… does this mean I am unattractive, does this mean I intimidate males, does this mean I am not coming across as approachable? Who are these people to say that I am not the definition of ‘feminine’, surely that is an old interpretation that is completely outdated in today’s society?!

I do try with my hair and makeup, but the times my hair looks decent and done up is mostly done by mistake or just sheer fucking luck… don’t get me wrong I have watched numerous tutorials and had a good attempt at trying to replicate some styles… without much success… I mean I’m a women, I am meant to be able to do this feminine shit with ease?

I know I am not the most feminine and I may have a ‘lesbian/male’ dress sense, but I am comfortable in the clothes I wear and the way I portray myself. Maybe by dressing this way I am trying to conceal my insecurities from everyone, and I do worry that by not dressing ‘feminine enough’ that I struggle to be attractive amongst a sea of feminine girls with beautiful hair and clothes.

I feel that at the age of 23 I am still struggling to find myself still, find my own dress sense, I am torn between dressing feminine and feeling uncomfortable or dressing tomboyish and feeling confident. I feel that my ‘unfeminine’ look disadvantages me to a certain extent, I feel that I should be feminine and a pretty girl who cares about makeup and shit. I guess I need to realise there is nothing better than being me and not giving a shit what others say about my dress sense.

I am fierce and feminine in my own way and I fucking own it. I don’t want to look back when I am older and think why did I worry so much, just fucking own it, and that is exactly what I am going to do, there is only one me and there will only ever be one me. It is natural for me to feel insecure and second guess myself, I feel it is what keeps me on my toes and open to developing myself and pushing myself outside my comfort zones to feel more fierce and confident in my own body and mind.


“Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.” – Dr Seuss.