We have been trained, in some way, to think that our fantasies should be realistic. When something that you want comes to mind, you realise quickly that it is nonsense and shake it out of your head.

What if you let those thoughts run free?

When I was out for a walk a moment ago, I was listening to a cheesy 80s pop ballad and I wondered what it would be like to wear a huge, billowing dress and dance with my chosen partner in the woods, laughing, getting tangled and lost in no time and space.

I quickly was shamed at my own thoughts. I heard Will tell me that “fairytales were not real”. I have always had someone telling me to grow up (but from, him it was a sting since he lived in videogames and the Star Wars universe – just in me in was childish). My need to dress-up and dance and wander is my refusal to conform to “real-life”.

Oh, and this real fucking life is so grand.

Imagine if you let those thoughts just roam.

Write your own narrative.
Even if you only live it in your head.

I get dressed up with other adults and pretend that we are elves or dwarves or knights or princesses. If this makes me a child, then so be it.

I am not shaming myself for my thoughts or my actions any longer.

I am who I am and that is fucking it.

I am too old to care who is judging me.

Continue reading “glory”


Toxic relationships will make you think about dating differently. They will slowly transition you from a romantic to a sceptic. They will make you wonder whether true love exists, whether happily ever after exists, whether loyalty exists.

When you are in a toxic relationship for too long, you are going to get a warped view of love. You are going to misunderstand what it means to be in a relationship. You will start to mistake jealousy and short tempers for passion. You will mistake little acts of love as the best you could possibly get.

The longer you spend in a bad situation, the more normal it feels. You get used to the arguments and the tension and the tiptoeing around. You might keep stories from your friends because, deep down, you know how horrible you are being treated — but at the same time, what is happening to you does not seem like such a big deal.

A part of you assumes every relationship has the same problems. Most people just hide those problems. They do not talk about it, but that does not mean it does not happen. These are the lies you tell yourself. They help you feel less alone, less confused, less upset.

When you are in a toxic relationship for too long, you wrongly believe your best move is to stay in the same place. You do not see any point in leaving because you probably will not find anyone better, you probably would be just as miserable single, you probably would not benefit from walking away. You keep coming up with excuses to stick around, even though your heart is dying to find a new home.

When you are in a toxic relationship for too long, you change into a completely different person. You lose your naivety. You lose your innocence. You lose your faith in others. You become someone tough, sceptical, closed off.

You do not want to let anyone else into your heart because you know what happened the last time and you do not want a repeat in history. You do not want to be stupid enough to trust again.

You stop thinking of first kisses and puppy love as romantic and start thinking of them as foolish. You feel bad for the new couples who do not see the pain coming. You assume it is only a matter of time before they have their heart broken the same way yours has been broken.

When you are in a toxic relationship for too long, it hardens your heart. It makes you stop wanting to be the nice person, the giving person, the person who puts others before themselves.

If you are in a toxic relationship for too long, you might lose your faith in others. You might question whether any relationship is meant to endure years, decades, a lifetime. You might find yourself deciding the single life is easier, less risky, less painful.

Toxic relationships have the power to change everything about you — from your personality to your beliefs. They could turn you into someone you do not recognise. They could turn you into someone you do not even like.

Mina sako arigato, k-k-k-kawaii

I know how this is – I am loved by someone that I do not love in return. I am kind to him but I am firm. He does not possess the qualities that I require in a mate. He is attractive and talented. I have no other qualms with him except that our lives do not pair up well enough to live harmoniously. We could casually date, I suppose, but neither of us ‘do’ casual. He is unwilling to budge, so, we reached a stalemate.

It did not make his affection for me disappear.

Love does not go away because you want it to. Nor does it appear when it seems beneficial. Your heart wants what it wants & really, trying to tame it seems to take the point of living away.

Still, sometimes the point of living is absent without the ability to be loved properly.

I know I am blessed knowing love. The universe has been kind to me. My heart is full & there are days it seems more like heaven than hell. In these days, I have all the symptoms of love-sickness & I have to admit it is strange.

It is felicity.

But if confronted with that person, I could not say the feelings strictly belong to him.

It is an overall sense of well-being not entirely associated with a person outside my location.

Never mind. It made more sense in my head – hi oh tor shok eifa bru-lar va’ashiv!



Porn turns sex into a product to consume, something to be obtained (often for free), used and discarded. With little or no foreplay or kissing, sex becomes masturbation there is no reciprocative intimacy, only a compulsive, self-serving need. A point-and-click routine.

What is to like about it?

love is not what you say, love is what you do

I feel this in my fingernails as I ball my hands up as we cross paths,
“Take these words of encouragement with you, “You are loved, you are adored, you are an amazing person. Know that I root for you every step of your journey.””

I know when I close my eyes at night, your face will greet me on the other side, “As you end your day, let me send you my love and light to guide you to a peaceful slumber so you can rise in the dawn, feeling rested so you can have a productive day.”

I have nothing but love to send to you. I did what I could to dig it out and remove it from its roots but they are stronger than my magic can remove. I was told to leave them alone, they are not rotten or tangled with anything malicious. “Pure love, white as snow”, she said.

Alright, it does not make me feel bad. Not exactly. It does make being with someone else (sort of) impossible.

She told me what Tabetha told me, but instead of acting like a twit I just nodded and thought carefully about what my next days would be like. I do not have work to keep me busy and my trip is going to leave me with a gaping hole of time that I might go batshit crazy in.

I suppose I will be far enough away that causing trouble will not be an issue so… I guess I can drink?

Let me get through this weekend, yeah?

the uncrossing, so it ends.

two out of three uncrossed.

The last one wrapped me up tighter.

I did not see that one coming.

The seventh bath was the hottest. I sweat and cried and watched the hearts that looked like cupcake sprinkles mingle with the sand from my toes on the bottom of the tub.

I tried to untangle the way I did from the first two. Each of them had their own obstacles. I saved the hardest for last. I tried running through the “cord”. I bounced off of it. I tried running into it and twisting around it, hoping the tension would snap them. They got stronger with each turn, eventually, I fell on my bottom, strangled with a thick, black rope in place of the golden threads.

Next, I thought of him and held out my hand. In the tub, I closed my hand and thought of his in mine. I asked him to go for a walk with me. He agreed and then I remembered that I did not know what his voice sounded like anymore.

With his voice sounding like my voice, I told him it was time for me to let him go. He asked why I was only doing this now. I told him that I never stopped having feelings for him. He said if that was the requirement for moving on then no one ever moves on AND THEN I HEARD HIS VOICE

I brought my hand out of the tub water and opened it. A few drops of water trickled out but no other indication that I had held anyone’s hand.

Fuck I cannot do this

I sat up and manually swiped down my sides and did the sign of the cross and hoped for the best. I will douse myself with uncrossing oil for a month or so and keep my nose clean.

I did my best.

the uncrossing, pt. 8

I started yesterday with a question to my punky “friends” —> “Should all clothing companies be required to dress all bodies?”

The hatred I had thrown at me for the 12 hours to follow was intense.

It all started with an ad for Nike making larger size women’s training clothing. I saw it and thought, (first) “have they not done this for ages?” (second) “oh, well it is about damn time!”

Then, an artist I follow made a comment that a few other companies that she likes should also follow suit and make clothes larger so she could wear them. I liked the post and carried on with my day.

I saw it reposted with some snarky comments later when I settled down with my tea (serves me right for double dipping on my internet time, but that is neither here nor there). I started to feel slightly ill at ease.

One of the clothing companies she was calling out was Lucy & Yak. They carry very straight sizes – hardly a regular-sized XL. I lost weight to wear their clothes.

I worked hard to get what I wanted because that is how things are done.

No-one gave that to me. I did not expect society to conform to me, I laced up my trainers and put on my fitbit and walked and then jogged my way into a smaller version of me.

When I was much larger and clothes did not come larger than a size 12, I either wore men’s clothing or I made my own clothes. I had basic sewing skills – I had to learn to sew to wear something pretty.

When Calvin Klein was asked why he did not make plus sized clothes, in the 90s, he said, “I make dresses, not tents”.

True story.

I asked this question and instead of getting answers, I got attacked. Women took this personally. They do not know that I am a dietitian and have worked with obesity. They do not know I work with rising women up, not tearing them down. They do not know me. They read words that were not there because they are social justice warriors that need to be outraged. They live behind a trigger warning. I thought I had found a community of like-minded women but they were only behind me when I was talking about my abuse or when I was lifting them up. They binded together in tearing me down because I asked one question:

Do clothing companies need to dress every body?

In saying yes, that would mean that all clothing lines would need to carry clothing from size 000 to 50 (or 60).

If you do not know, that is fucking impossible unless you are a huge company like Nike or the Gap. A small company like Lucy & Yak could extend some of their items but at cost. If one item costs £38 for the customer for a straight size, a plus size might cost £45. It is not just about extending a pattern. You need more upfront materials and manpower. And maybe for this one company, there is a market for it, but what about others? They could lose money unless they custom make each piece.

No one cares about the economics of this argument. They just want what they want and they want it yesterday.

And when I recommended that if you wanted it so badly to do it yourself, OH I got flamed.

Why is it unpopular to tell people to do things themselves? This explains the state of the world we live in today. You do not like the politics we have? Go out and vote. People do not, so we get more of the same yet they still complain but where are the riots? Where is the outrage?

Being thrown at people that tell them to do something about it.

I brought this conversation out with me last night. I was so burnt out and needed a better place to understand where this chat went wrong. In the beginning, my friends agreed with me – clothing companies should sell what they want, what their business models think they can make money off, etc.

Someone asked what the average age of these women was. I guessed their ​20s somewhere (I know the meanest one was only five years younger than me but she never had anything kind to say to anyone, that I have seen, so I ignored her). A lot of nodding and groaning went around. I waited patiently for an explanation​.

I got handed someone’s mobile.

It was a Bill Maher clip. Something about the ‘hey buddy’ generation. The general idea was that these children were raised to believe that they did not have to work for anything, everything would be given to them and they did not know life​ outside the internet.

I had to let that sink in.

I said something along the line of, “but if they never create anything themselves, how are they going to survive?”

My reply was, “They have known all along that the planet was dying so they are not going to.”

Well, shit.

The conversation got dark for a while​ but I brought it back to the original conversation. “What about people that cannot truly lose weight? What about the non-able bodied? What about people that are happy in their skin and not trying to fit into society’s norms? All of these people should be able to waltz​ into any store and get whatever they want and walk out, right? That is the whole point without all of the bells and social media whistles.”

It was agreed.

“So why does the approach seem …entitled?”

“Because we think fat people are lazy and we do not want to see handicapped people, they make us feel bad.”

Also agreed, grudgingly.

“This is why this question got me attacked.”

“Yeah, probably. They would not have done it if they knew you and you asked them like this. But it was done on the internet and people are judgemental as shit. They let all of their insecurities and rage out on you. Good on you for deleting it and not letting them have their way. Bad on you for being naïve enough for asking such a loaded question on a forum of strangers. I hope you have learned your lesson, dumbass.”

“That younger millennials are narcissistic​?”

“Well, yeah, but blame their parents for that shit. Giving them participation​ trophies and allowing them to become their stereotypes instead of just loving them unconditionally, for allowing them to be constantly​ connected to some device has warped their perception of reality. They are less hardworking, trustworthy, and caring and more self-centered and lazy. And somehow​, they think this makes them more unique. It is the most blatantly evident proof of bad parenting we have seen played out.”


“I would like to point out, that in the middle of this mess, one woman​ put me on full blast after I deleted my post. I was going to ignore her, I thought it was rude. I have the right to delete my post, there are not rules against deleting your words – but someone compared my inability to see my fat phobia to the metoo movement​ and I knew I had to say something. I apologised for harming anyone with my callous​ words and poster tried to continue the conversation in her post. I did not get my question answered but due to the volatile nature of this community, I would not have said any more​ with those eyes on me. What I did not know, is that this woman was the artist I followed and adored that started this in the first place.”

“What happened?”

“I do not know, I left after she and I squared the chat away. She was considerate and though I did not appreciate her making a spin-off of my original post, I understand now why she did. And now I feel like I should apologise to her.”

“She purposely humiliated you on a public forum, you do not owe her an apology.”

“I do not​ think she meant it that way. I think she was frustrated because I deleted the post while she was typing a response to my post.”

“Still, she could have been an adult about it and wrote a pm to you. Putting you a display like that was childish.”

“What is done is done and in a way, I am glad she did it. I would not be having this conversation now and I would not have thought more about the other side of her argument. I disagree with her method but she is not wrong. I wish she would use her platform to rally women together for louder, stronger causes but she sings from her heart and who am I to judge? We are not all Angela Davis. Sometimes the best we can do somedays is get out of bed.”

“You know it.”

(paraphrase, naturally. I left out a lot of sighing, chuckle snorting, interrupting & whataboutisms.)

The worst part of this is that I liked this group. I never cared for this one woman but she was one in a couple thousand. I felt at home here and now I will never feel right posting there again. This is not a group that raises​ women up, it is a group that at a moment’s notice, will tear a woman down.

I have spent months listening, guiding, loving, laughing with these women. And four of them have decided that I asked a question that was treasonous. Instead of understanding who I am and understanding,​ IT WAS A QUESTION, NOT A SEARCH WARRANT​. I was thrown under the bus.

I could block the few bad apples but the seed will still be there.

Reading comprehension is still taught in school, correct?