orange leuchtturm 1917 bullet journal

A (kind of) Love Letter

Hey there,

I know you’re feeling hurt at the moment, I sense it in the silence and distance between us. Whenever I try to start a conversation with you, you leave me with unfinished sentences: frustrating lines that hit connectives, hanging as uncomfortably at the end of a line as an introvert at a frat party. Connectives are made to mingle amongst the dancing letters of a sentence, not act like roadblocks for a train of thought.

You can tell I’m frustrated when I start mixing modes of transport in one simile. Yes, I’m a little frustrated. Not at all with you though, you’ve been wonderful this last year, but with myself for neglecting you these past months. And for allowing that to create both this space between us and my difficulty in coming back to you. You’ve always been there for me when I needed to let my thoughts out in chaotic streams of consciousness, no matter how much time and attention I had, or didn’t have, for you. And so I can understand you’re hurt.

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A Day In The Life Of Anxiety ft. AutumnSkies

Before we launch into today’s little post, I just wanted to say thank you to James for featuring me as a guest blogger on his site. I wrote a new Conversations With Anxiety post all about the struggle to allow yourself time to relax in a world where productivity is prioritised. So if that spikes your interest, go have a peek over there ❤


They say there are always two sides to the same story; this is painfully obvious when it comes to sharing your head with anxiety. If you read my blog regularly, you’ll be familiar with my Conversations With Anxiety series which are dialogues I have with ‘Anxiety’ in everyday situations. I write these as a way of shedding light on the power an anxious voice in the back of your head can have over your actions and decisions, even during the seemingly mundane moments of life. These conversations tend to focus on snapshot moments: perhaps a five minute period from a day isolated from the rest of my existence.

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One Day You’ll Bloom

It’s been a while since I last posted a poem on here. That one was all about uncertainty and feeling incapable of making those ‘big and important’ life decisions. This one follows a similar train of thought: it covers the uncertainty we can feel in relation to ourselves. It’s one thing to feel unsure about the future plans you’re making, it’s another thing to feel unsure about your most basic abilities to do things and succeed at them…

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Pressures of Growing Up Female ft. My 20s Taught Me

Growing up female comes with a whole host of challenges, much like a christmas chocolate selection box where an array of horrors disguised in tempting, shiny foil nestle inside. Of course, there are plenty of great things about being a woman, but this post is about the times when sadly that is not the case. More specifically, this post is going to focus on one of the most commonly discussed issues of growing up female: the pressure to look a certain way, or do certain things to be ‘beautiful’.

In a simple, kind world, we would be able to appreciate everyone’s differences, and also spend way less time thinking about them. What I think is even worse than the pressure to fit into a particular look, is the underlying concept that a woman’s worth can be based on her appearance; both how she naturally exists and through what she actively does or does not do with her body. Yes, it’s nice to acknowledge beauty, but do we really want to live in a society in which this is, so much of the time and evident across all media platforms, the most important aspect of being a woman?

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Talking About Anxiety – Conversations With Anxiety #09

Snapshots of the conversations that are had between anxiety and I: the things we fight over, the discussions and debates we take part in and the struggle to reason with irrationality. Some of these are based on past events or reoccurring battles, some on more recent occasions, and some are simply extrapolations of experiences I’ve had.

Facilitator: “Okay, so now we’re going to go around the group and each person is going to tell us what they find hard about doing their job.”

Anxiety: Uh oh.

Me: You. That’s the simple answer.

Anxiety: Wait, what?

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