Be Childlike Again

Wednesday, 9 December 2015

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Have you ever met a person who makes you feel like you’re a child again? A five year old who has just picked up their favourite toy - bursting with an excitement and innocence you haven’t felt in a while. You’re suddenly inquisitive about everything you see and optimistic about the prospects the world holds for you; it’s the type of optimism you thought you had but never felt. The knowledge that you had presumed you owned, was now put into perspective, yet your confidence in that knowledge grew and doubled by the second. You feel small. But not insignificant. Everything seems good, you are happy and the world is peaceful. Nothing bad ever happens.

But then that person leaves, and all the self-doubt, worry and concern you held before comes rushing back. You are now big again, with all the knowledge in the world resting in your worried little mind. You are no longer that five year old bouncing up and down with glee. You are you, standing still, staring into mid-air at nothing in particular.

“Are you okay?” your friend asks you - concerned at the glazed sheen that has been screening you eyes for the past minute.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’m fine,” you say, although you are bored and unimportant. “Yes,” you say, although the world is a terrible place filled with bad people who do horrible things. Nothing is new and all the sparkle in the world has shrivelled up into a dry, dull black ball of nothingness.

“I’m fine,” you say. “I just zoomed out for a moment. Daydreaming.”

“Let’s go catch up with them,” your friend says, gesturing to the door out of which that person had just left and starting towards it. “You know, I’ve never met someone quite like them before.”

“No,” you say. “Neither have I.”





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My Past Selves

Monday, 7 December 2015

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My 16-year-old self has more spots than my 14-year-old self, or even my 15-year-old self. But she is more comfortable with a face full of harsh, red blemishes than the 14-year-old who would sweat and panic over one tiny zit. It wouldn’t even be classed as a zit; in reality they were slightly discoloured hills on my skin, barely able to be awarded the title of red - of a spot. 

My 16-year-old self sometimes walks around make-up free, despite her pock-marked face! My 13-year-old self would sometimes do the same, but she felt more shy about her perfect skin than my 16-year-old self’s varied one. My 14-year-old self had thin thighs that she felt were “too skinny” and  a relatively flat chest. Now my 16-year-old self has boobs that jiggle when she dances and thighs that wiggle when she walks. 

My 13-year-old self was insecure about her likes and dislikes - that things that made her her, she thought that her reading habit and bookish obsessions would cause people to think less of her. But now her 16-year-old self is proud of her hobbies and her colourful bookshelf and will usually be happy to share the things she has written, in the hope that someone will enjoy reading them as she has enjoyed writing them.

But my 16-year-old self is still secure. She still has days when she is scared and doubts her self worth; she still feels conscious about changing for PE in case anyone looks disparagingly upon her body. She is confident but still has insecurities. She knows everyone has insecurities now matter how confident they may seem - and that is what makes her confident. She has accepted herself for who she is and I am proud of her for that. 

However, that doesn’t mean that I am not proud of my other selves; the spotless 13-year-old, the 14-year-old with “too skinny” legs, and the 15-year-old who felt lost and out of place, with no sense of direction. I am proud of them.

I am proud of my 13-year-old self for letting herself become more confident around people.

I am proud of my 14-year-old self for achieving the feeling of security and bliss around the friends I still love to bits today, for discovering more of her passions and letting others know about them. 

I am proud of my 15-year-old self in so many ways. Having recently been her, her troubles are still fresh in my mind. The heartbreak my 14-year-old self felt at having to leave my home rippled into my 15-year-old self’s thoughts. She didn’t feel right - she was uncomfortable. She felt empty for a while until she took the time to glue herself back together, piece by piece. I am proud of her for triumphing over the troubles my past selves struggled against and I want to congratulate her for that.

Now, all that I hope is that my 16-year-old self, and all my selves to come, will do them proud.







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November 2015 | Monthly Wrap Up

Monday, 30 November 2015

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I have been reading the blog, The Halfway Point, for a while now and I really love Erin’s series of posts ‘Dear…’, that are essentially wrap up posts for that particular month. So I thought I would do something similar. I have used some of the questions that Erin uses, but have adapted them and added more of my own to make it more personal to me. (Expect to see these posts monthly!)

Favourite part?


Small moments with friends.

Best read?


How to be a Woman by Caitlin Moran - none of the other books I have read this month could compare to it. I cannot describe  how much I love this book!

Favourite tunes?


She Falls Asleep Parts 1 and 2 by McFly and Fly Me to the Moon by Frank Sinatra.

What did I learn?


That it gets really REALLY cold in England and that green tea is always a good thing.



What’s happening next month?


Revision, finding out the result of my music theory exam, revision, going home for a day or two, revision, coursework, revision. And oh yeah, CHRISTMAS!!!!




What’s been on my mind?


Exams, pressure, grades, the future. The sentence ‘What makes a favourite?’

Favourite blogger/vlogger?


Lucy Moon who makes videos on her YouTube channels meowitslucy and teawiththreesugars. Also Dodie Clark’s videos have been playing on loop! (doddleoddle and doddlevloggle)






Favourite post?


I really love How to Time Travel, however I think the one I felt most compelled to write was Paris Attacks. I needed to write that.

Biggest inspiration?


The little things everyone does to try to better themselves and to achieve the highest they can.


Any other favourites?



Earl Grey tea! 




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Thank you for reading this month!

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5 of my favourite teas!

Friday, 27 November 2015

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It’s no secret that I’m a great tea lover; I can’t get enough of the stuff! I drink loads of tea - particularly in the winter months - and my favourites chop and change almost constantly. So today I’m going to share my 5 favourite teas today (don’t be surprised if it’s completely topsy-turvy tomorrow!).

5. Redbush/Roobios

Redbush is probably the tea I’ve liked the longest. I first had it on a camping holiday when I was younger and it’s remained a regular ever since - especially in the evening when I don’t want to be kept awake by a caffeine overload!

4. Jasmine Tea

Recently I was feeling really horrible; I was freezing cold from being in the open Winter air for too long and I was ridiculously hungry - which is never a good thing as those of you who know me will know! I had some jasmine tea (when I say some I mean A LOT) and it made me feel so much happier. I love you green tea…

3. Rooibos & Earl Grey

Last weekend my dad came home with a box of tea he thought I might like. It was a mixture of Redbush and Earl Grey, which, while it sounds a bit weird, is really good and, in my opinion, is better than normal Redbush although I will still continue to drink the original. 

2. Glengettie

This has been my normal black tea since I can remember and is a family favourite. Gotta love a proper brew!

1. Earl Grey

This has been my Winter tea for this year! I don’t know why but I have been drinking it like it’s the only thing I need to live. It just sort of embodies Autumn and Winter for me - it smells great and is so tasty. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE.








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I Have a Beehive in my Head

Wednesday, 25 November 2015

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I have a beehive in my head. I can hear them inside there - their wings flapping furiously, banging against the walls of my skull. They engulf my mind, increasing in numbers as my thoughts do and fleeing the hive once my mind is clear. I have a constant background noise, a soundtrack to my life.  Sometimes it can drive me crazy - oh God can it drive me crazy - but the honey my little black and yellow workers produce is of such sweet quality that the buzzing issue is well worth the trouble it causes.





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