My Blog

There are moments in life that do not arrive with trumpets. They come quietly, wrapped in a blanket, making tiny noises in the crook of someone’s arm. Then, without warning, they rearrange everything inside you. Becoming a grandma has been one of those moments for me. When I see my daughter and her partner holding their baby, my heart does something I do not quite have words for. It swells, aches, softens, and steadies all at once. I watch them learning the small language of

It's there, bubbling away just beneath the surface. It's fuelled by pain, frustration and fear. Why shoud I be quiet? Why should I accept that I am not seen? Why shouldn't I speak up, shout out and demand to be heard? Because if I set it free all hell would break loose!

One thing that puzzled me after losing Mum was why I didn't fall apart? I had expected to be an absolute mess when the grief hit and yet I wasn't. Sure, I cried and felt sad but the utter devastation I was expecting never happened. So why was this so?

The seed of doubt was planted and because of the way our minds work, mine began looking for confirmation that I was indeed 'less than'.

Push for all your worth to get to the front of the line, be the one they pick by getting noticed.