03/09/2026
Life is about experiences. Memories. Being here while we're actually fu***ng here.
But how often do we really do that?
We're constantly chasing the next dopamine hit.
The next achievement. The next bit of validation. The next thing we're convinced will finally make us happy.
And lately I've been asking myself...
What actually matters to me?
I'm dealing with grief through loss while also fighting for my mam to have the most basic care while she's really poorly.
And f**k me, it makes you sit with your life.
Not just what you want.
What you don't want anymore.
I don't want to live in a fishbowl doing the same s**t day in, day out because that's what you're “supposed” to do.
I don't want relationships or friendships where the compassion, care and effort only travel in one direction.
And if choosing that means sometimes having nobody?
I'm actually cool with that.
Because I know how I love.
I know how fiercely I care.
I know how passionate I am.
And I know what I bring to the fu***ng table.
I talk a lot about beliefs formed in childhood and through lived experiences because I've had to unravel a s**tload of my own.
Even my mental illness became part of the path that forced me to look within and ask...
What is actually good for ME?
And I did the work.
Does that mean I'm permanently zen now?
Absolutely fu***ng not. 😂
Do I still have moments where I could happily put people's heads on sticks?
Yes.
But now I breathe.
I walk.
I meditate the s**t out of my life.
I regulate myself.
I come back to me.
I've had plenty of “wellness” people turn against me because of my determination, my mouth, my passion or because I didn't fit their version of what a spiritual or mindful woman should look like.
And I'm grateful for every single one of them.
Because they showed me exactly who I never wanted to become.
One thing I'm incredibly proud of today?
There are people walking around with good reputations because I chose not to tell my side of the story.
Not because I'm scared of them.
Because I've finally learned that everybody doesn't have to like me.
And I don't have to like everybody either.
I can be mindful and still tell someone to go f**k themselves.
Those things are not mutually exclusive. 😂
I'm messy BUT mindful.
I wear hoodies and leggings, not floaty hippy pants and vests.
I can have a room pi***ng themselves laughing playing hide and seek and ten minutes later have those same people breathing, grounding and calming their nervous systems.
That's me.
And I fu***ng love the woman I've become.
Something is shifting again.
I can feel it.
My next chapter feels huge.
Not because I've forced it. Not because somebody told me what my niche should be. Not because I've manufactured some new identity for social media.
The path has led me here organically.
And I finally understand what I'm here to do.
I'm here to show women who the f**k they are.
Not who they were taught to be.
Not who somebody else needs them to be.
Not the watered-down version that keeps everybody comfortable.
Who THEY are.
And for the women coming with me into this next chapter…
F**k, I'm excited.
And I will never apologise for it. 🖤
