When I was a little girl, I wanted to be told I was pretty. I think it came from a place of not being quite sure; it came from a place of wanting to be told that I was more than I was, somehow. I’ve spoken in the past about growing up with a beautiful mother, and about the pressure I felt…
I sometimes wake up thinking that I have to go to school again, and it fills me with dread before I realise that I never have to go to school again; I never have to walk to that cold building with its dark long corridors and barred windows; I never have to park my bottom again on those hard benches…
I was at the beach the other day, pushing my toes into the sand and reading a book, when a family of four arrived and parked right next to me. Now, I’m not anti-social. So I didn’t mind that from all the empty bits of beach to choose from, they chose the bit next to me. I quite like people,…