Osteogenesis Imperfecta- Cushioned In Love

Expressive and Emotional word content… poetic justice… my thoughts are perceptive, occasionally subjective but always dimensional. My career lies in psychology and my mind lies in philosophy. To question and ponder is to reflect. I am both reflective and directive. I never walk with caution as our steps need their footprints. I love this journey we call life.

Sympathy belongs at the back of the drawer…. and elephants need keeping out the corner…

It can be hard. Somebody suffers a tragedy or bad news and we want to support them, but we do not always know how.

Sorry seems to be our grabbing word.

Sorry. Such a small word but it carries a lot of meaning and perception.

“I’m sorry you have lost your job” – seems adept for the situation, but what are you apologising for? That they have lost their job, or that they may feel upset that they are now unemployed. The context may be different if they had made the choice to leave, or if they actually felt positive about the outcome.

“I am sorry you may feel sad/hurt/angry/heartbroken”

It is very cultural and the question can be asked “why are you sorry, it was not your fault”.

Yet we still grab for it in any given situation. We still feel it punctuates the silence and the discomfort.

Maybe the sorry actually is that we apologise for that discomfort, for not knowing how to respond, and for not being mind readers.

It is really ok. We do not expect this level of comprehension from anyone. I’m uncomfortable situations, in the arms of diversity, tragedy, negativity, we struggle to make sense ourselves, so we certainly do not expect clarity from others around us.

Sometimes sorry is not the right word. Sometimes silence or honesty is better.

If I’m not sorry, then you certainly do not need to be, so let’s just smile at each other and laugh away the silence.

Even better, ask those uncomfortable questions, and move that damn elephant out of the corner… 😊👍🏻


Blurry eyes, copious yawns and eureka revelations!

There are many facets to being a nursing mother. The extra snuggles and devotion are indeed fruitful and continue to promote the emotional positives. Research continues to tap you firmly on the shoulder, and mummy pride aids in the darkest moments. However, scrap all of that for a moment, as I truly believe that another angle to consider lies between the times of 3am and 5am. This is what I refer to as the ‘lost hours’, the ones which disappear in the midst of nipple soreness, baby balancing, and the multitasking form of controlling a vicious and rampant milk letdown. All this whilst the hubby remains sleeping also! I often ponder how he would react if I aimed my dairy firearm in his direction! Anyhow, back to the night time juggling, and the sense of satisfaction you feel with a successful latch and a settled baby. It is at this point when the lost hours become something else. These hours provide the base for reflection and deep thought. I could stare dismally at the wall and become majorly irritated by the odd flake of paint hanging off, but instead I use my time wisely. I plan, I seek, I analyse, and I ponder deeply. In those lost hours, I find solace. I find meaningful thought content. I then fall asleep satisfied, as does baby.

I awake in the morning and usually  can not remember much of those eureka moments, yet I continue to bathe in the knowledge and wishful thinking that 3am serves me fairly. One day I am sure my ideas will flourish me.

We all need a silver lining … Especially in the night! 

Is social exclusion simply subconscious ignorance?

Having a disability can induce social exclusion, even from a positive place. The perspective of someone being ‘different’ can segregate them from society and alienate their own social needs and normality.

A wheelchair doesn’t change how someone feels or thinks. A walking aid does not make them need friends any less. It doesn’t replace the excitement of doing, and the contentment of belonging.

Often people find that it’s easier to consider disability as a separate entity, and even with the best will and compassion, this can prove a negative experience. There are limitations, there are differences, but these simply need accepting and not always highlighting.

That kid sat alone under the shelter in his wheelchair whilst his peers jump about in the rain? The girl left at the bottom of a staircase whilst her friends enjoy the delights above? Always waiting by the side of the fairground ride whilst they hear the laughter and fun of their peers? Watching their friends horse ride and jump on trampolines? Just one simple change of action or decision could diminish that feeling of loneliness and exclusion.

We can’t change the disability, but we can change our reaction to it!

Fairies, imagination and tending to your own lawn!

Often we live within our minds, we follow our dreams, beliefs, wishes, and fail to realise the reality which we dwell.

The promise of magic, fairy dust, talking animals, and enchanted forests, stimulate our childlike senses, and offer us escapism from the mundane tasks of the day. Dreams are indeed essential for personal motivation and to instil a sense of worth around us. However, sometimes the dreams take us away from the importance of reality. We fail to see the real as we are looking only for the perceived magic.A fairy can inspire a grown person to reattach to their inner child, as an imagination can envision and develop ones personal scope. The real deal is the realisation that the magic we seek actually stands In front of us in the form of our loved ones. We do not need to dig into our imagination to find this. There really is no greener grass than the grass you are tending. 
Only with this realisation do the fairies and mystical beings actually come alive inspired by love, not by wishful thinking ❤️

Inspired by Louis Honca Art

Find the Comfort in the Chaos

How often do we look at our life and judge our success on the the here and now? How often do we judge others, make assumptions based on our own perceptions of their narratives. Do we truly believe that happiness is dependant on order and neatness? Is that even a realistic concept??!

Do we notice the chipped paint and tarnished surfaces of today, or do we allow ourselves to enjoy the moments, the sweet memories, and the ghosts of yesteryear.

Often we sit and ponder on life and the journey we have chosen to take, or the paths which we have detoured from. Every broken plate has a story, every picture frame holds an abundance of emotions, and a personal canvas.

Can a tidy life really show a truly loved life? Don’t get me wrong, we all require a degree of order to ensure stability and security, but do we lose stimulation, impulsivity, FUN?!

Time is priceless, we cannot trade it, return it, nor can we ask for a refund. Once spent, it is gone, never to be seen again, and with it, a small part of ourselves disappears.


As we age, our personas continue to change, the roles within our lives constantly changing and evolving, until we don’t recognise ourselves anymore. Then one day we are sat in a cluttered room thinking ‘where did it all go?’

To others we are cluttered by mess, but to us, that mess encompasses every memory we have made and shows that instead of simply keeping our lives tidy, we rejoiced in the chaos and lived it for all it was worth.

Then we grab the dustpan and brush, clear up the mess and carry the hell on….

Illustration by (Instagram): Honcaillustration

Never allow your fear to become your suicide

Life is not meant to be easy, nor is it meant to be simple, our complex minds could not deal with the minimal stimulation of complete predictability. Life does need a healthy balance, and requires a healthy parallel of positivity to every negative angle.

As individuals, sometimes it’s easy to ride with our stabilisers on, to always walk accompanied, and to only jump when we have a safety net. Often it feels safer to walk the clearest paths, and to avoid the undergrowth. The safest path often seems like the better choice, and following the signs minimises pain, disappointment, and failure.

We remain creatures of habit and with that habit, comes death. Death of a dream. Death of our individual identity and hope.

What is the alternative? Our fear of the unknown screams loudly in the dark, and keeps us frozen to our rigid spot. Our metaphoric safe haven.

How can we comprehend and consider a different option If we continue to allow our fear to have an audience? Like a school bully, we empower it to grow and become stronger, as we watch ourselves shrink and shrivel deeper into our unhealthy beliefs. We watch ourselves die, leaving a shell of regret, disappointment, and that awful question of ‘What if?’

Sometimes that little step, that tiny risk, that glimmer of life, can ignite the small flame within us and all of a sudden, everything changes. Hope is reborn. We can start to believe again. We can live.

We are simply a reflection of our thoughts, defined by our emotions and become our own hero’s through our actions.

We simply need to be who we are. No restraints.

When pregnancy is not picture perfect….cushion it in love

What do you do when you receive the news that your baby may have something wrong with their development?

That they have broken, or that they are measuring too small? There are serious problems and the experts carry trepidation on their words.

How do you cope with that?

Can you even comprehend this scenario?

Your life changes in front of your eyes, the fear…the anxiety….the unknown…

That woman you once knew has already changed even before she left the room. The father feels pressure like he never has before. They look towards one another and they both ‘get’ it but they cannot talk about it yet. It is too soon.

It is easier to pretend everything is fine.

Can you picture this? Do you see the micro expressions? The unspoken words behind the clouded eyes?

They have changed in response to this, yet the change was also needed. To become a chameleon, you need to be fluid and allow yourself to become part of your environment. To be as one with it, is to become more flexible and powerful. To own your own perspective and wear it like a shield.

So these parents stand taller than they ever have before. They see their baby reflected inside each other and they know that they are ready to fight.

Armed with dedication, knowledge, and motivation, they hold each others hands and step forward, ready to take on the world, and ever ready to cushion their baby with all the love in the world.

Blessed is best!

Sometimes we need to take a step away from the drama and negativity, and really appreciate the positivity of life. There are always going to be hardships, emotional highs and lows, however it is our reactions to these which define who we are.

Who we hope to be.

I feel lucky to have a life that I love and appreciate. I love my career, my friends and my family. These are the main dish. Everything else is simply a side order. Take it or leave it.

The dessert is the gratitude and love that makes it all fucking worthwhile!! 👌😜

What we are and how we own it

Sometimes we simply have to appreciate the little and significant things in life. We need to turn towards our inner muse to discover what keeps us motivated, and what keeps the happiness spark lit.


We each hold the key to our inner happiness, in our hands. We are in control of how we use this, and how we perceive it’s value. I honestly stand by the notion that happiness is individual. A slice of contentment and a sliver of peace may warm one persons heart, where as another may still feel cold.


It is the smaller things in life which delight the heart. The things we often take for granted, and forget to appreciate. It is the moments of clarity. The moments of enjoyment. The moments which create a forever memory etched into your heart.

The random laughing and the secret jokes. The mutual understanding we have, when words are not needed. It is the touch of a hand, a delicious taste, a beautiful aroma. It is the creation of an experience which we can reflect upon again, and again.

It is being free to be yourself totally. No masks. No airs or graces. It is self belief and gratitude.

It is simply the realisation of a blessing.

The mind of a deep thinker…or complete rubbish…it is all down to interpretation and perception…

To love is to breathe

I had a thought in the darkest part of the night, ‘what if we loved instead of hated?’

What if we loved ourselves and felt comfortable in our own skin? Would it be really that bad to look properly in the mirror and look past the negative focus? To look deeper? Often we see blemishes of our own thoughts, shadows of our emotions, we are blinded by our own cynical lens.

How often do we appreciate a flaw as positively different? As unique? As simply us?

Do we hate on ourselves more out of insecurity and in fear of others judging us first? Are we afraid of the societal gaze and not measuring up?

Who the hell sets the scoring board? Who alters the bar? I often wonder if it isn’t our own doubt that leaves us feeling oblivious to our true beauty, yet to blame society seems just somehow 🤔

Social media does portray beauty in a can, falsifies the true natural state of a woman (and a man), but we can ignore this and take a stand to be whom we are….can’t we?

The opinion of others can only affect us if we let it, or if we perceive it. Beauty is standing tall and relishing in the chaos. Beauty is pure acceptance and that glow of radiance which is a result of being happy.

Happiness is not physical beauty. That’s simply a fabrication created within us. If we look good, we feel good right?

No.. because love is deeper than skin level. We need to accept and love whom we are, then beauty will own us. Simples.