This is the home of my weekly ramblings - the honest, funny, and sometimes chaotic blogs about parenting, autism, ADHD, midlife wobbles, and emotional burnout.
Yes, if life feels messy, you’ll feel right at home here.

I’ve never really fitted in. Not at school, not in my family, and definitely not in any tidy little box the world tried to shove me into. I was always too quiet, too emotional, too difficult, too something . And for a long time, I thought that was a flaw. But in truth, every scar, every scribble, and every slightly bad decision I’ve made along the way has shaped me far more than fitting in ever could. Going back 20, 30 years, I wanted nothing more than to blend, to smooth ou

Somewhere along the way, many of us were trained to be polite to the point of self-destruction. Sad but true. We smile when we’re uncomfortable. Nod when we disagree. Say thank you when someone’s just insulted our parenting, our life choices, or our sanity. We’re taught to prioritise everyone else’s comfort, even when it completely bulldozes our own.... And for years, I did exactly that. I swallowed my opinions like vitamin tablets I didn’t want but assumed were ' good for

It’s been one of those weeks. The kind that left me eyeball scratching over the boring work admin (that I definitely didn't forget about three weeks ago), while simultaneously trying to keep pace with my son, aka 'Stimmy Timmy', who’s perfected the art of impersonating a bowl of spaghetti - arms, legs, and general extraness flailing in every direction.

You manage work, kids, friends, the lot… But when the dust settles, guess who’s gone missing? Yep - you. I know this because I’ve been...

Why is ' No' the hardest word in the English language to say out loud? (Well, apart from 'moist' maybe.) We twist ourselves into...

Last week, I wrote about how lonely adulthood can feel. I didn't write it with any great expectations - it was just up there, doing...

I used to think loneliness meant sitting in an empty room. A quiet kitchen. An untouched phone. Maybe some tragic backlighting and a mug that says #blessed  even though you’re crying into a gluten-free crumpet. But no. Real adult loneliness? It’s less obvious than that. It’s sitting in a room full  of people who don’t get it. It’s speaking, properly speaking, and being met with a shrug. A platitude. A well-meaning but completely useless “It’ll all work out.” which, to be hon