A friend once said to me the act of creation signalled the end of creativity. The bone-crunching tiredness that hangs over you, day in, day out. The almost constant anxiety of something disastrous happening, meaning rational thoughts are driven out, let alone anything more creative than the daily grind. The endless, repetitive hours of unedifying…
Finding my voice as a mother living with birth trauma and chronic invisible illnesses – and helping you find yours Opening up about anything remotely “taboo” is automatically “oversharing”, right? At least that’s what society has conditioned us to believe – as with anything, boundaries and professional help absolutely have their place here. There’s been…
Nearly three years into this mothering lark and still the title mother doesn’t sit comfortably with me. It certainly doesn’t come first in my mind as a self-descriptor, despite the praxis of mothering occupying the majority of my time. I feel strangely distanced from it, although I am approaching it. It evokes to me a…
