THE ART OF SELF JOURNAL

For a good part of my life, All I ever wanted to do was fit in. For people to like me, to be accepted, And I thought that meant being someone other than who I was. I would look at the cool kids and wanted to be just like them. Go to those parties, hang out at those cool pads, Dress as they did, Look like them… Yet I remember in those times of chasing the idea of being someone else, Other than who I was, Was so freaking exhausting. And I was left with a very empty feeling in

On the weekend, I could feel a change in the weather, I could feel spring seeping through, And it felt sooo good - my favourite time of year is nearly here. But it got me thinking.... Just how quickly time passes. The days, the weeks, the years, They get faster and faster. I remembered as a child, how slow it all seemed to go, It felt like forever for another birthday, another Christmas to come around. Now in a blink of an eye, each birthday & christmas arrive so damn fast i

I’m a daughter, a sister, a mum of four, a baba (aka:nana) to one, a friend. I’m a portrait photographer, a creative, a writer. I love to sing, however I’m a little tone deaf, Hanging at the Karaoke bar is something I enjoy, So I can admire and enjoy all the talent that is out there. I love to eat - food is just so good, But man do I hate to cook - I hate cooking with passion. I prefer a Rum & Coke over a wine, Yes I’ve been called a ‘Westie’ many times because of this. When

She had a style of her own, Her hair was black and short…shaved a little on one side. She wore long feathered earrings, Tattoos down her arms, She was settled in her chair, Legs up on another, Sipping on her coffee Ear phones in, tapping her foot to the rhythm Her eyes wondering around people watching. The odd smile would grace her face every now an then. Was it the song she was listening too that put a smile on her face, Or was it something she saw from the people she was w

You know what triggers you, what set’s you off, Talking about the people who really fire you up. It's time to stop talking about them and all the problems. It's time to deal with the problem, work through it, Find out what you can learn from it and then move on. Let it go. You're wasting too much energy on these people, You're giving them your power. You're depleting yourself of any power you have. And stopping yourself from learning and moving forward. It’s time to let go.

Raise your hand if you want to try something new. Raise your hand if you just want to wear what makes you feel amazing. Raise your hand if you feel like taking a trip away by yourself just for you. Raise your hand if you just want to do that one thing you’ve always wanted to try. Raise your hand if you’re over getting up everyday to a job you hate and are ready for a change. Raise your hand if you just want to like who you see everyday in the mirror. Raise your hand if you’re

Life is continuously changing, Although at the time it doesn’t feel like it. Life is always moving. One moment we’re young kids ourselves, Living with our parents, going to school, Trying to find out who we are in this world. And just like that, We are adults ourselves, Helping our own kids find their way in life, And still trying to figure out exactly what we want in this life. We know time passes quickly, Yet we can often treat life like we have all the time in the world.

We can all go through life, just doing our thing, Dealing with whatever is thrown at us on our own, We don’t speak about it, We keep things a secret, We push all feelings, emotions down as far as they can go. And we can begin to accept how we are feeling as, just normal, That no one else will understand us, What we’re going through, And that we need to toughen up and just get on with it. However sometimes, it takes just one thing to make us see things in a different light. M

My scars can not be seen, They are hidden. They were scars so deep that I wondered at times if I would ever feel normal again or would I always be this shy nervous wreck. My experience through abuse is different, I had no physical scars, no bruises. Like I said, they were hidden. For so long I never spoke about the abuse I had endured, in fear of being judged, feeling ashamed and less of a person for it. Until 2 years ago when I started to open up and share my journey thanks