bare toes, salt water / my favourite skirt is made from the most delicate cotton; it's started to tear but I'll wear it till it's threadbare
I've learnt a lot about my self in the past year or so, not because of any drastic change but more as a reflection of every day life. There's moments where I catch myself in the midst of washing dishes or chopping vegetables and I think: "Why didn't I realise that earlier..."
When I became a mum at 23 I was, in retrospect, a very young girl; unsure of so much yet willing to open my arms and my heart to the biggest and most life altering change. Six years on and I feel a little more grounded, a little more confident and yet, I question so much, wonder what will happen next, hold my breath when really, I should be exhaling.
There's been moments in my career where I have considered giving up writing as a profession. I've received emails criticising my work that weren't intended for my viewing, I've been heart-breakingly edited (with red pen), so much so that I questioned my ability and turned from the page, unsure whether I would return.
Tomorrow I'll stand in front of a group of women and share what I know about words. How to thread them together, how to write with conviction and honesty. But I'll also talk about fear and doubt and the rather scenic route to understanding your intention and placing it, confidently, on the page.
I'll take photos too, and so will they. Because every story needs a picture.