Sarah Everard did all the right things, but enough wasn’t enough to just get home.
I decided I enjoyed being bad at yoga. Of course, I was bad at yoga. I’m a clumsy girl. Yoga is reserved for a different type of elegance, one I can’t even begin to harbour.
I know it feels like the end dates keep changing, but take a rest, close your eyes, inhale, exhale. Pick yourself up and we can carry on together.
I title each post-it “Dear” and the date. It is simple, but wonderful. Plus you don’t harm the book in the process, which is a thought which brings me a lot of simple joy.
I see a girl who got through a difficult year of her life. It was nothing like the worst, but it was nothing like the easiest. I see a girl who has been hurt, who has healed, and who looks to the future with bright eyes. I see a girl who is not perfect, who makes a plethora of mistakes, who has a library of stories and someone who keeps on trying, no matter what.
All my love and support,
Thank you for being here. Thank you to the silent readers who don’t comment. Thank you to the readers who do comment. Thank you to the people who come from our social media. Thank you to the people who stumble across our blog and never come back. Thank you to the people who keep coming back. Thank you for being here with me as I grow and navigate this world without my Mum.