I am not defined by my grief. I’m not going to bore you with the details of grief. Those of you who have/are experiencing it know what I’m talking about, and those of you who haven’t just listen and understand. We know you won’t quite, but the gesture of trying and sitting in silence –… Continue reading Day 88
I’ve always been proud of being a Duffy. My mums parents, my granny and grandad, are the Duffy side of the family. I was in England years ago visiting my grandparents, young and head over heals in love. My ex and I had nothing in common and struggled from the beginning of our relationship, but… Continue reading When too much is not enough.
I love my muffin top. I love my thighs. I love my curvy thighs that wont fit into any other kind of jeans but the ones that are high waisted and curvy, and you know what? I love that. I love my feet, beaten from my previous years in dance – a bunion throbbing daily… Continue reading A piece about just fucking loving yourself.