Unsurprisingly, the stories keep coming. Of course they do. We all have one.
I can’t share my stories, for many reasons. My stories are stories I cannot face, because the terror and the shame has not faded. My stories are stories that echo in the women around me.
Yesterday the Sunday Star Times picked up on a subject I’ve been banging on about for ages – the old “You don’t look sick” comment.
It’s quite something that the only way I can get proper support from a government department is to publicly shame them every time they do something wrong.
I have a whole bunch of crazy talented friends. Let’s show you what they can do.
I have a lot of questions. I have a lot of self-doubt. I have a lot of ideas and nowhere to really go with them. So, you know – I’m Continue Reading →
I’ve written about what it’s like being sick. And I’ve written about what it’s like being something of a public figure. But I wanted to talk about being “publicly sick.”
I’ve been reading about neural pathways. My understanding of neuroscience is pretty limited, but from what I can gather, our brains like to take the easiest route.
‘A female writer cannot afford to feel her life too clearly. If she does, she will write in a rage when she should write calmly.’
A few people have asked me recently why I love Bob’s Burgers. So I thought I’d write about it.