Not Father’s Day

I hear it’s Father’s Day today. Might even be in the UK as well as north America, but I can’t be sure as it’s not on my radar. For the last 29 years I have not had a relationship with my father, ever since he emigrated to Australia from England when I was eleven-years-old. I wrote about him in my book; I’ve blogged about it here; I’ve talked about it at length with two therapists and I’ve even written an article about it for a national newspaper and Cosmopolitan (of all places). I’ve looked at it from all angles. I’ve put myself in his younger shoes. I’ve acknowledged how it’s affected me as an adult woman. I sat with my younger self, feeling what she felt. I’ve witnessed friends’ relationships with their fathers and marvelled at them. I’ve flirted with the idea of forgiveness. I’ve had actual conversations with him in the handful of times we’ve met — last time was over 10 years ago. I’ve listened to him apologise to us and admit it was a shitty decision. I’ve also heard him talk lovingly about his children — his Australian family. Moments before he’d stumbled over my name, unaccustomed to using it.

I have no idea what it’s like to have a man in my life who loves me unconditionally, like a father would. I’ve never had anyone to send a Father’s Day card to. It’s all very normal to me now, just another part of the story, but for some reason, this afternoon, after seeing yet another ‘I love you, dad’ status update on Facebook, I felt a sadness I haven’t experienced in a long time. The sadness of a little girl who didn’t have a daddy anymore. She had no idea how to process it, so she turned into a needy teen who wanted so desperately to be loved she’d settle on the first guy who paid her some attention. And my thoughts then turned to my nephew, as they so often do these days. I trust that HIS daddy will be there for him. I love my brother-in-law and I know he’d always do right by my sister and Noah (and he knows I’d kneecap him if he didn’t ;-)


To be honest, I don’t know how to end this post. I guess I just wanted to put some words down, and give a shout out to all of you out there who don’t have someone to send a Father’s Day card to either.


Panning for gold

I’ve joined a couple of dating sites. It’s been a year since my last (rather botched) attempt at online dating, and while it isn’t my first choice of how I’d like to meet the right guy, it’s my signal to the universe that i’m open to moving into the next stage of my life. You’ve got to be in it to win it, right?

Of course, lately I’ve been feeling increasingly content with how things are. I’m in love with my little flat and so happy I made the move to this part of London. Work is bubbling along, and I’ve got some big plans for 2014 that I feel ready to tackle. I see my friends and family enough to feel connected and loved but not so much as to feel overwhelmed — i’m happiest in my own company, and more importantly, I’m okay with that! I’ve been having actual conversations in my journal about whether I really want to “give up” all this calm contentment for the potential rollercoaster of a relationship. But the wiser more evolved part of me knows that there’s so much more I could learn about myself in relationship to/with another. That being on my own for the last eight years has been the most empowering period of my life, and now it’s time to see what other magic can be made walking the path alongside another person.

The naughtier less evolved side of me knows that when i’m lying in bed alongside my beloved after not a single wink of sleep all night, I’ll be smiling and thinking “giving up” the calm contentment was totally worth it. This girl cannot survive on bread and water for another eight years, let’s put it that way.

So I’ve pinned the available sign on my door and so far it’s been what I was expecting. Several messages from twentysomething guys asking if i’m up for “a bit of fun”. A handful of messages from gentlemen who were clearly absent the day they taught punctuation at school (no judgement there, just the acknowledgement that these things matter to me). A note from a man who seemed polite in his message but upon reading his profile i discovered he was The Angriest Man in the World. I’ve read profiles written by married men openly admitting they are looking for affairs. There was a guy fishing for a BDSM partner. A cross dresser. And several rugby team’s worth of blokes who are “easy-going and laid back”, like to eat out at restaurants and whose favourite film is The Shawshank Redemption.

I’ve also had a peek at some of the ladies in my age group — interestingly, i thought all of them looked lovely.  I could see the beauty in every single photo I saw. We girls certainly know how to a) pick a nice photo and b) make the best of ourselves (the majority of the boys, however, look like serial killers. What is it with blokes and photos?) I’m happy to report that I didn’t feel any competition with the women on the site — it was just reassuring to see i’m not the only single 40-year-old out there. Part of me actually wanted to write to them and suggest they check out some of the nicer guys I’ve spotted. I think I may have missed my calling as a matchmaker.

It’s far too early to know if this is going to be a successful mission and I know I’m going to have to pan through a lot of silt to find the gold, so I’ve signed up for six months with the intention of staying open and not taking it too seriously. The right guy for me might not be on the site(s) yet. In fact, he may never be and we’ll bump into each other outside my local supermarket. Who knows? What I do know is so many of my friends have found love this way it would be silly not to at least give it another try.

There’ll definitely be a few more dating posts in the future as frankly, some of the messages i’m getting are just too hilarious not to share :)

Coming up for air

I’ve been deep in the creation cave for the last six weeks and as my journalling course draws to an end this week I’m finally peeking outside and reflecting on all that’s gone down. It’s been intense, people. INTENSE. I’ve chalked up about 25,000 words for this course which is half the length of my book, so it’s no wonder my RSI has flared up and I’m feeling rather drained. But oh, it’s been glorious too! Periods of such intense creative work may take me away from this blog (and I’ve missed you so much, I’ve been counting down the days till I could write here again) but it also opens up my brain to new ideas and connections. While I’ve been birthing Journal Your Life I’ve had so many ideas for new courses, new possibilities, new directions I want to take. I’ve had a new book idea. I’ve dreamt up a line of products I want to create — actual physical things to send out into the world. I’ve had new ideas for my magazine column (hello Simple Things, I’m looking at you). And I’ve been plotting some deliciousness to celebrate my book’s one year anniversary in June (you’re going to love it :) So while being in the creation cave is full-on, it’s also incredibly fertile.

It’s important to me to create a new course in real time. I have the structure and content plotted out beforehand and get the first two weeks written before the class starts. But I like to create the rest of the course as we go along so I can listen to feedback and do the exercises right alongside everyone else. This is what makes the course come alive. Once or twice I’ll hit a day when I’m not sure I have anything to say, so that’s when I go out for a walk with my notebook to get some new perspective. And sure enough the lesson gets downloaded into my brain and I know what I’m going to write. Every time I run a course it gets tweaked and perfected as there are always new insights to add and better ways to share information. That’s why i love to run these classes — they change and evolve just like we do.

I am so proud of Journal Your Life, and as I said to my peeps in a video last week, I could so easily keep writing this baby. It’s made me realise that at some point in the not-too-distant future I’d like to create a much longer course or program. Six or eight weeks is great for an intense journey into a topic, but I can see how beneficial a three or six-month program would be, taking you so much deeper into the material with breathing space woven throughout. I’m working on it…

When I entered the cave it was winter outside my doorstep, but now I see that spring has finally — miraculously — arrived in Londontown. I have ideas blossoming and stories I want to share here. It feels so good to be back xo

Self-care in the Real World

Self-care in the Real World |


“One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats.” – Iris Murdoch’s protagonist in The Sea, The Sea

The quote above was number 27 on my list of 40 lessons learned in 40 years — I like it so much it’s even mentioned in my book. I’m a passionate believer in the wisdom of giving oneself regular small treats. It ties into my philosophy of showing myself kindness whenever I can. Because I’ve spent a lot of my life being decidedly UNkind to myself. Honestly, no one could ever say anything meaner to me than some of the rubbish I’ve told myself — still tell myself, on the bad days. But these days I try to do better by myself. I consciously try to be kinder. And it starts with the many layers of self-care.

The first layer: the quick fix

I have a tendency to spoil myself as if I were my own overly indulgent relative. If I want an almond latte I go get an almond latte. I spend an absolute fortune on books. I buy myself flowers and scented candles occasionally. I own a ridiculous amount of perfume. On really icky days I get out the big guns: new Spotify playlists (hours of fun!).

I know I buy myself presents to make up for the fact that I’m single (“I haven’t had sex in *cough* a long time — I deserve this Diptyque candle!”) When I’m no longer single I’m sure there’ll be other reasons to justify the presents. Self-care that involves spending money in this way is more of a quick fix, though one that’s certainly pleasurable in the moment. And I’m okay with the occasional quick fix — it always brightens my day.

The second layer: the reactive

The next layer of self-care is responding to how I’m feeling at any given time with a kind action. Sometimes I worry this type of self-care is simply laziness. When I stay in bed an hour longer… when I go to bed an hour earlier. When I take a long bath instead of dealing with my inbox. When I give in to the mid-afternoon chocolate craving… it crosses my mind that I’m far too lenient with myself, because somewhere inside me is this twisted notion that Hard Work is the only way (and this applies to everything, not just paid work). But experience has taught me that it’s better to attend to my needs rather than push through and ignore them. This means that if I wake up with a headache I’ll do the bare minimum needed in the morning then let myself have the afternoon on the sofa. If I’m feeling upset about something I’ll be extra gentle with myself, doing whatever I need to work through the issue (phone my sister, go for a walk, journal); often I just need to get out of the house and reset my brain.

The third layer: the self-investment

This last layer takes a bit more effort but the benefits will be felt for years to come. At the moment my biggest self-investments are my weekly sessions with a therapist, my gym membership (I’ve been 3 times, people! I’m going to make this happen!), and going back on antidepressants. I view all of these as the absolute best way I can take care of myself right now. Working with my therapist gives me space to unravel my head; going to the gym will eventually bring health and stamina (I hate going but the smug feeling afterwards is worth it); and the tablets are helping to bring me back up to the surface so I can function in this world like a normal person.

At this time in my life I am my own biggest responsibility which means I have the time and income to invest in self-care, but even when my circumstances change I hope I’ll be able to maintain this practice of attending to my needs — I know it makes me a more considerate sister, daughter and friend. To me, self-care is really self-kindness, and I find the more self-aware I become the more I recognise what I need. In my twenties and early 30s I was less clued in to how I felt, and as a result my self-care rarely went deeper than the first layer. These days my deepest desire is to feel calm, balanced and safe: my three layers of self-care help me get closer to this.