Whenever I make my mum's lentil soup recipe, I'm back home with my family, at the wooden kitchen table.
Lamenting the loss of even the less-than-shiny aspects of a family Christmas, and yearning for time with loved ones - even if it does mean arguments, discomfort and awkward moments.
My latest piece for Dear Damsels – which is not, for once, a poem! – shares the story of the ice cream van that made me cry on a regular basis during lockdown, and the hope it eventually brought.
This poem is for anyone who misses being close to someone, too. That time will come, but for now, let's think of drinking tea with them.
Spring is all about movement: springing forward, and springing up; new life, new beginnings, moving on, growth, freshness. Even its synonyms are mobile: elasticity, bounce, hop, bound.
It’s ironic, then, that this year's spring is defined by stillness.
One of my favourite things to discover is the origin of a word or phrase we use every day.
Autumn has well and truly arrived. The rain has been almost relentless over the last week, the skies are perpetually grey, and all of a sudden the pavements are darker and damper and coated in leaves.
It's hard to keep positive when you feel like you're 'failing', and supposed successes surround you at every swipe.
When Dear Damsels asked us to submit pieces on the theme of 'Growth', the first thing that sprung to mind was one of the biggest lessons I've learned with age. It's hard to get your head around the fact that people don't really care about what you're doing, or what you're wearing, as much as … Continue reading Poem | Nobody Cares
There are so many adverts around these days that empower women; shampoo commercials that feature boxing; tampon adverts that show carefree women cycling in bright white shorts; This Girl Can. What makes me chuckle, however, is how women are sometimes described; the words that are chosen to advertise these things.