Little Maybe

There is no silence like the noise of missing someone you never met, your body writing a story it will never live, the tracing paper of loss and memories not yet created flowing through your veins.

My body grows grief.

And I shall never meet her.

Conversation Stopper

I've just had a miscarriage.

It's a real conversation stopper, I've found. Something that thousands of people go through every day, and it's barely talked about. This is of course just my personal experience, but I think it would be really helpful if we could start talking about the last great taboo.

Often I see people don't want to say they are pregnant until they have passed the three month stage; and without any judgement at all, if this is the case, then there are less people to support them if they lose the child; because people don't know about it.


Hello Twitter.

This is really hard to write, because I imagine I am going to get a load of flack for it, but I'm really struggling with something, and I was hoping you could help me. There is no way to phrase this without sounding like I am fishing for compliments, but I genuinely need some feedback. I have been asked to do a big talk, and I need to clarify why anyone would give me the time to listen to what I would like to say.

Instead of tearing myself into pieces trying to not be destructively self deprecating, I thought I would ask you.

Hope Not Hate

After the horrific scenes in Woolwich yesterday, I suggest we meet those actions with a display of unity.

There were reports yesterday that the men with the knives said they wanted to start a war in London. The only people who seemed to be in agreement with them were the EDL.

Hatred breeds hatred. We know this. Let's be better than that.

Listening and Learning

When people feel uncomfortable they quite often slip into self-defence mode.

I've watched people - real life, internet and media - winding themselves into barbed wire anger over the unfolding of what appears to have been systematic sexual abuse of children within most of our lifetimes. Under our very noses in fact. It feels so close to home, people feel the need to shout about how wrong it all was.

For the love of trolls

Last night I got a death threat on Twitter. Worse than a death threat in fact, it was an explicit threat to murder someone I care about.

So, I signed out, got a book out and went about the rest of my evening. Not frightened away, or bullied away, but just not wanting to spend my Saturday night in a blazing room (metaphorically or literally).

Many Happy Returns

20 years ago a 13 year old kid was pushed down an allyway in broad daylight in a busy shopping Saturday and had things forced upon her which would steal innocence and hope.  What’s remarkably unshocking about the attacks I faced throughout my developing years is how unshocking they are.  They are not a stories that need to be retold, nor ones you need to hear.  The thing is, something about them has been rattling around my head lately.

Get an Occupation

Next week there may be some trouble. I wanted to try and spin some sentences as a preemptive strike against an inevitable media backlash. I don't think I'll win many over, I just wanted to get in there first. And maybe plant a few seeds for thought.

Three months ago I cycled down to the London Stock Exchange to watch what I has assumed would be nine blokes in balaclavas fighting the police to get a girl guide rig down. I was greeted by one the largest displays of civil disobedience I have ever seen.


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