Infatuation is a curious thing [fiction]

Forever coloured in my mind by a vast palette of emotions, I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. Infatuation is a curious thing. Love at first sight is not relevant, even awe is neither here nor there. Was it shock? Did her beauty astound me? Was I transfixed by the way she held herself? Perhaps her dark shifting eyes, which held my gaze for what felt like hours but was actually mere…

Now is the best and worst time to worry about bettering yourself.

Over the last few months, coronavirus has given many of us ample time at home and without anything to do. How many times have you told yourself “I’ll do that when I have the time”, “I wish I had a week to just do that”? Suddenly, you do. This can go several different ways.

The types of people

If you’re not working from home, and you have no kids, you might be like me. Perhaps completely caught…

Let’s talk: Being an open book

There is a time and place for everything, I’m well aware. There are boundaries, societal and personal, that you just don’t want to cross. That’s fine. There are, however, many opportunities that you might come across, whether someone has asked specifically or it’s just in conversation, for you to discuss your own emotions, niche opinions, bodily functions, anything that it might be. How many…

Perhaps one of the easiest traits to have, perhaps one of the hardest obstacles to overcome, depending on who you are. 

I, for one, struggled in my teen years to open up to others, for fear of being rejected, mocked, just not understood; things I realised as I got older. My insecurities held me back. For whatever reasons you may have found yourself in this position, it’s a very relatable position…

A Happy Things notebook.

I have a Happy Things notebook.

This isn’t a new concept, no way original, but it’s a good idea. People have enjoyed ‘happy jars’, when you write down happy memories and fold it up into a jar, at the end of the year you read them all and remember all the good. My notebook is like that, but it’s more ongoing than a jar for a year. In fact, I wrote my start date, and have hit the two-year mark, and…

Some days I can make myself not ticklish somehow