Trauma twins.

Was so great to be in the presence of a dear friend today.

We need connection so very badly. All of us. No matter how much we may love our solitary sojourns, other voices keep us tied into a wider community.

I need the affirmation she gives me. It feeds me and strengthens me.

She’s always believed that I have been abused and that Faith in my Word is more valuable than Gold.

She’s always believed that I’m a good mother and again this contradicts my ex and the ICOC church that denigrates women to pre feudal times.

She’s always been adamant that I am capable of looking after myself.

Beautiful sentiments that keep me living and breathing.


New You, New Me.

I love to celebrate craft, pursuit of excellence, Quality with a capital Q in whatever field.

Well we all know how much our hair means to us. All of it or none of it. Hair plagues the image-conscious- confidence.

My hairdresser has taken me through many life – hair styles. She knew me when I was living the lie- of Happy Families and ‘holier than though’ church.

She saw me try and assert Me in a coercive church and relationship.

She witnessed me go through many breakdowns…she witnessed me leave my family and crawl back in a suicidal state.

She watched me get help from Mental health workers, domestic abuse support, Judges, Social workers, nearly end up in a refuge, sofa surf and be finally housed for domestic abuse by the council.

Then she saw me start to listen to my intuition, my soul, my Politics, my Purpose in a cocoon of new and old loving friends and equilibrium.

Check her out. She does hair of all races, all styles. Dawnette, North London, UK
Mobile 079-563-30484

Monthly delights…

What an honour to be a woman…to give birth, breastfeed, emotionally yoyo, nurture, intuit.

We also have a massive range of styles and looks to mix and match: the pretty little thing, the ‘tom boy’, the – oversized boyfriend’s garments – look, the red, blaring siren.

Talking about red. I had a tsunami of that this morning. I mean, will my body ever stop taking me by surprise?It seems that as soon as I adapt to new body shape, breast size, energy levels, sexual preferences, hair thickness, length, texture, colour…it melds into something Other.

So can you imagine?

After padding myself to survive racing through traffic to drop child and onto work for 90 mins, blaring tragic heroines like Amy Winehouse and planning some suitably appropriate proper heavy eyeliner in line with my mood…I pop into the toilet to be…

Soiled, soiled…

I mean I was embarrassed and I was alone.

But the show must go on. Right?

A few minutes later, I’m prancing round 30 pre pubescent…spouting authority, maternal, literariness and whatever senior leaders expect of me.

Lethargic, worn out in agonising pain, popping pain killers… It’s what We do.

You can understand why some forward thinkers have given Women flexy time to deal.

Flexy time or not.. we just have to deal.