The things I love are: books, tea, stars, my car, disco balls, house plants, baking, cardigans, walking, art, theatre shows and hugs.
I’m not sure what this tells me? That I’m a sparkling, creative academic who likes pretty things…actually that’s probably true. It seems Thomas was correct. Not at all my intention for this post but I totally suggest you freely write a list of all to the things you love and see if it matches up with reality.
I’m unsure I like the word ‘things’ as I wanted to include people. When I think of love I think of the people that I care most about, animals and I guess perhaps walking and theatre aren’t things – perhaps things to do, so I altered the list slightly.
I think we are more than Thomas suggested, ‘we are’ the attributes of our behaviours – we are how we treat others, the values we push out into this discombobulated spinning planet. We are how we make others feel.
In death and traditional eulogies a whistle stop tour of events; birth, education, employment and marriage are mentioned. These are not who we are – these are what we did. I’ve personally never wept a tear because ‘Margaret worked in marketing for nineteen years’ but I have felt sorry for the loss of how others made me feel, kept me in mind.
We should tell people more. In life, we should share random moments of confirmation of how people made us feel. We could hand write notes, send texts or just tell people when we see them. ‘I’m a better person for knowing you because… I love you dearly because… or a simple cheers for always….’ in the month of the over priced flower, chocolate heaving Valentine’s Day that’s squished in the middle of February, instead of getting caught in the consumerism , reach out to those you are grateful for and share how you feel. Memories fade around things but how others make use feel transforms lives.
Approaching thirteen you asked me a question and I’m not sure I did the answer any justice. Instead, I’ve taken some time to scribble my words on the page and now I’m ready to share my answer.
You explained that the girls in your school are plastering on make up, drowning themselves in phenoxyethanol and benzophenomes (your high ability science and I don’t know what these are, but I get the gist), you told me the girls randomly stick mini stickers in the shape of stars, hearts and mushrooms that are meant to hide blemishes but as you eloquently point out, instead draw attention. You finish your confused monologue with ‘all to impress boys and Mum – we don’t like it’
This is what I wished I had said in that moment. It’s not about you. It’s never for boys.
My own story with makeup means you have seen very little modelled on your Mumma. I taught in an all girls school for over eleven years and began this in my mid twenties. I arrived at work daily with a face full of concealer, foundation, blush, mascara, sometimes eyeliner, sometimes eyeshadow and realised that as I preached at the front of the assembly hall on topics of self love, how as young women my girls should love themselves and not worry about others, I was hiding behind a mask myself. Realising my hypocrisy I scaled down my make up operation. I taught makeup-less most days, added concealer when required, a whisp of mascara when desired…but mainly I taught from a place of authenticity. I’m very blessed that my self love is high and doesn’t rely on external products. That isn’t the same for everyone.
Makeup can be fun and on a special occasion I will often use a variety of different shades to ‘enhance’ my features. That said, I have never once dressed or put makeup for boys. I don’t think your father notices if I wear mascara or not. I’m pretty certain he doesn’t, as I can come back from the hairdressers with a full head of highlights and he asks where I’ve been, it’s likely he doesn’t even know what mascara is. It’s never to attract boys, because you are right – generally, the male gaze isn’t keen on makeup.
The girls in your school are working out who they are. This is a deeply personal matter and society has added makeup as a step from girls world to womanhood. Like it or not, it’s there and it’s complex. For some it is a mask, it’s hides deep insecurities and for others it’s frivolous fun. Make up can come with a thousand connotations that as a boy – are none of your business.
If anything, the girls in your school are putting makeup on for other girls. I often dress for my female friends, I always dress to express and I always wear what I want…again with my content confidence I don’t worry about others nor if the outfit and the setting are appropriate and I’ve been cold more often that not because I always forget a coat and never dress practically. But I am happy…cold but happy. All of what I wear and how I present myself is my business.
The issue currently for you is that most girls are appalling at putting on makeup. Like, really bad. They are at the stabiliser part of riding a bike, it gets better in time but falling off in terms of makeup can look horrendous. If you had seen the drawn on eye brows of 2011 you to would have known where Crayola got this inspiration for the chiselled tip . In 2006 I taught in Essex and the fake orange tan smell across the school could put year nine boys to sleep – it may sound stereotypical but the previous white collared school shirts where autumnal shades of orange and brown were a very real thing. But it’s not your business. As their teacher it’s not my business.
What someone adds to their body is their concern only. All that matters is that you treat yourself with respect. By treating yourself with respect that in turn means you allow kindness to be spoken from your lips. If you see contours on a girls face that look like she’a playing cowboy and Indian’s – you do not need to say anything. You don’t even need to compliment a girl who has clearly invested hours of YouTube ‘how to’ videos and looks stunning…it’s still none of your business. You may become close to that girl or perhaps even be her boyfriend – still none of your business. Other peoples faces and fashions are NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.
Instead, I can tell promise it gets better. The girls will take off their makeup stabilisers and learn how to blend, purchase the right products for them (and not something pushed by Tik-Tok algorithms ) in time the makeup in the room will feel less ‘loud’ to you. It’s just a phase and my gorgeous boy, puberty will have its own pathway for you, focus on you and always remain kind.
I have always had a strong dislike for car sales people, the reason is simple; they’ve always lived up to the stereotype of being pushy, arrogant and ultimately unhelpful. In the same way I’m not going to try and sell January to you. It’s bland skies, dark mornings and it feels naked, stripped from the tinsel and lights of December. I strongly believe January is for hibernating, staying home and resting. It’s not a season of dramatic change and that’s ok.
I’m now going to reframe January but don’t think I’m not aware of all the above, I’m not a car sales man and I’m not going to tell you that January will be amazing, only you can control that, we don’t have to hold the heavy weight of the new year either. After a December of social demands how lucky are we to have a slower paced month next. One that doesn’t demand or want, a month to quietly potter and plan…but demands little action. I’ve seen memes online about January having 2383 days in it and I agree it can feel long, especially if you were paid in early in December.
I am lucky that I don’t need to live pay check to pay check, I am lucky that I don’t desire to go out, content to snuggle down at home and happy to slowly step through January after the tornado of December. I think of January as an exhale. Of letting go, perhaps even with some light decluttering. As a huge lover of books January gives me time to immerse myself in literate and whilst I may be still, I’m thinking about spring, the year ahead and what I’d like to achieve – I’m just not taking action yet. How lucky are we. January is the dream month, the planning and the creative ideas coming together ready to launch but nothing that needs to begin today.
Often working people get the Sunday night blues and perhaps January is the Monday of the year. How lucky are we to have a fresh start. Mondays last just as long as the other six days and as we approach the end of our lives I’m sure we’d be grateful for every Monday we could gather, the same goes for Januaries.
Just because something doesn’t sparkle doesn’t mean there can’t be huge privilege within it. Rather than viewing the month with a heavy heart and a sense of blandness, look for the moments you can reframe and reflect the positive moments. Half way through the month now, it will soon pass – perhaps you can see you’ve already achieved something marvellous? Or perhaps you can find contentment in the stillness of this time. Whatever your own circumstances I urge you to reframe your world with a positive perspective, why? Because you are lucky you have the option to. Celebrate the small moments and I promise 2026 will be the year you flourish.
I feel like before I write this blog I should pay tribute to my British heritage and mention that a cup of tea can solve most problems…but if you are looking to enrich your life, I’d recommend a cheeseburger.
This is the tale of solace and not about burgers at all, so if you are a vegan keep reading and perhaps you’ll find your own alternative. As a household we eat well, I make most of our food from scratch, we aren’t huge snackers and we eat limited quantities of processed food, when creating dinners I am conscious to remove additives that are unnecessary and go to lengths to ensure we eat as many whole foods as possible.
Then there are cheeseburgers.
After the death of my daughter, I had existed on hospital food for far too long. It was just after 5pm when we left the hospital and we (myself and my partner) were driving home feeling everything and nothing. There are moments in life when you can’t explain how you are feeling, simply because the devastation you are holding is beyond human vocabulary. On the way home we drove through the Golden Arches and purchased a meal each. For as long as I can remember I’ve always ordered a double cheeseburger. But that cheeseburger hit a whole new level of nostalgia and taste sensation. Of course, it was a highly processed, low nutrient and a toxic standard product…I imagine it was all of these things that my empty shell needed in that moment. Many women after giving birth recall the white toast and butter served by the NHS the greatest food they’ve ever had. I’m not sure it has any gourmet greatness, it’s just an exhausted woman will find joy in sugar, fats and carbs.
That burger was sixteen years a go and grief process is still one that I’m learning to live alongside…with the help of a cheeseburger.
This is a photo of me in the drive through yesterday.
When the world becomes too much and my adult life is forced into overwhelmed I take myself for a secret cheeseburger.
Yesterday was no different. The Mr had gone out for a dog walk and my son was in his room playing…I knew it was a burger moment, so I called out that I was popping out. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going and I didn’t purchase food for anyone else. Just a single burger (in my case a double cheeseburger), I drove to the arches, ordered via the drive through, ate my burger on the journey home and carried on my day like nothing had happened.
What’s actually occurring on that fifteen minute expedition is solace. I’m giving myself a small gap in my busy world to serve myself. To reconnect with grief and say ‘I see you, I feel you’ and I honour it with a good taste…a cheers to the universe if you like. I don’t need to talk, I do need to be alone and I do need to not serve anyone else. If I had my burger but also got things for everyone at home that wouldn’t serve its purpose, as a working parent all I do is juggle the running home/ work balance and it involves meal planing and pouring nutrients into my ever growing family…as you can see from the photo I’m not emotional, although wet tear filled cheeseburgers have been consumed in the past. What it’s about is prioritising myself. Being alone and not worrying about upsetting anyone else. Catching up with what I need and it’s often not about the burger at all, it’s about being with me, feeling what I need to feel and moving on.
Cheeseburger expeditions can be once or many times a year and never at a particular anniversary- they are always random at random times of day or night – grief never invites itself, it engulfs you during the most mundane tasks. I’ve never explained myself or felt the need to share the experience. It’s just a moment, a fifteen minute pause on life’s ever to do list, but often enough to allow me to return to my family content and rebalance.
Hugs are great and the company of my loved ones is always a welcome addition, even a good cry can be hugely beneficial for the soul, but sometimes (for me anyway) a cheeseburger can get me back on track. cheeseburgers make everything better, like a plaster on a cut knee.
Often in films when a person is dying and reaching for that last breath, they see a cherished flashback of their lives. If you’re paying attention then sometimes whilst living you take a breath, see a view, feel an experience and know deep down in your soul that that image/moment will be in your life’s reel.
Bizarrely whilst watching a series on Netflix this evening I had that moment. It was season two of Luke Cage, in the episode he gets off a bus – no spoilers here, so I’m not revealing where he has been or where he is going but I will tell you he is at peace with his past and looking forward to his future. As he gets off the bus he looks up to the sky and the sun shines down upon him.There are no words but his facial expressions filled by soul. He was blissful and in that moment, despite it being a TV show he evoked a deep feeling of freedom to me. I’ll always remember it.
Why? Because I am truly privileged in that I’ve always had my freedom. I was born free, given opportunities, allowed to make decisions about my path and tonight I will go to bed free…
One of my super powers is gratitude. I am a Jedi Ninja warrior princess of seeing the silver lining. I can turn dark into light, despair into repair and crush hate with a blessing…I don’t get angry, I kill them with kindness.
As Luke looked up to the sun, it wasn’t freedom that I felt, it was a huge sense of gratitude for the freedoms that I often take for granted. Within the series he had lost them, fought for them and faced his demons and in that moment – he had won.
As we run out of 2025 and absorb the last few months it has to offer. I believe it’s easy to get caught in what we didn’t have and forget to hold dear what we had, what we still have and what we hold dear. If you’ve ever experienced a shock, had a panic attack, asthma attack or fainted, you may of also lost your breath – just for a moment , just an inhale…I promise with that next gulp of C02 you felt gratitude for something a simple, vital and often something we neglect; the breath.
To be alive, whatever our circumstances is a gift many have lost, one we will all eventually also loose but one worth waking up for and marking the moment with a salute to a new day, a new breath.
When you next reflect back on 2025 and perhaps set intentions for all that is to come, be grateful for the freedoms we often take for granted, the breath that go unnoticed and the simple pleasures of life, this in turn will make sure that your life’s flash back is one grounded in love, gratitude and joy. That’s a life worth living.
Without doubt my least favourite thing is people. As a race, we are greedy, thoughtless and selfish towards our planet and those that we live amongst. However, my favourite thing to collect are peoples stories. I realised that my brain is like a library full of events and scenarios that people have shared and I have interpreted. If my brain was a library then my favourite section would be the kindness aisle; stories that contain acts of kindness or random moments of joy, thoughtful exchanges, feeling deeply and unexpected.
Interpretation is personal, I’ve taught the same lesson to thirty teens and know they’ve each walked out of the lesson taking with them a variation on the learning objective. You could tell me a story but how I interpret it and the themes or feelings I feel are all categorised in my personal library. Many times have I read a book and remember moments hidden amongst the main theme that had a huge impact on me, when I attend my book club we always discuss a range of concepts and topics, some of which I didn’t think about when reading the book? I guess that’s the joy in sharing.
Eulogies at funerals always seem unfair and bias to the person who has pulled them together. I recently attended a funeral of a person I worked with, but the eulogy was framed (of course it was) around her being a loving and dedicated mother…that wasn’t the version of her that I knew, the story I told myself of who she was at work. As the eulogy was read I found it baffling and doubted I had known her. However, then I realised how wonderful that my version of her was mine alone.
Perhaps you read this blog because I ask you too (thanks Mum), because you know me beyond the screen, because you like my writing style, topics, rants and thoughts…I hope it’s because I make you feel good. I hope it’s because you feel a little better when you click off the page. I hope the pages of my blog can sometime be found in the kindness aisle of your internal library.
In the end we all become stories, take time to reflect on the stories that make you feel good, wander the aisles of your library and relish the memories you have made that feel a little magical. Should you ever step into the horror section, know it’s a brief aisle, an aisle you can leave and perhaps take a moment to think about where you might sit in other peoples libraries, perhaps you sit in the kindness section of a complete stranger due to an act that had a profound effect on them but is unmemorable to you.
Having a choice feels free and exciting, it means you are in control and as humans we like to be (or like to think) we are in control. That said, as an adult I have the choice of choosing what my family eats EVERY DAY and it’s exhausting! Some choice opportunities are better than others.
At times, life can give us multiple choices that again, can become overwhelming and sometimes that smallest of choices can drain our souls (did I mention picking my families menu for the week?)
We can also feel like we don’t have a choice and that can be just as terrifying. The quote suggests that we always have a choice and whilst I agree I think it’s important to remember that nothing in life is ever simple. Let’s take the scenario that you’re in a cafe and the waitress brings you over a latte, only you ordered tea. You may think you can’t do anything about it but this small issue can be altered by many different outcomes, here’s a few choices you could consider;
Drink the latte
Look confused and hope the waitress has telepathically worked out the error
Order a new beverage
Politely remind the waitress of your order and ask for her to take the latte back and bring you a tea
Sulk – but do nothing
Leave without drinking anything
You may think you don’t have a choice, your social etiquette and anxiety may prevent you from doing anything but that in itself doesn’t stop the choice being there.
Outcomes are something that we sometimes didn’t choose and wouldn’t want for ourselves. It can feel like our choices haven’t been taken into account, which in itself can feel awful. Not so much with incorrect drink orders but larger outcomes like not getting the job we applied for, the paperwork we need, a medical diagnosis or experiencing fertility outcomes we hadn’t thought possible. This is where the magic lies. Warning : it doesn’t feel like magic at the time, it feels like swallowing bricks. Sometimes, we can’t change the outcome but we do still have a choice in how we react and move on from the outcome given to us. This often means letting go of how we perceived the situation was going to work out. (Note: this is hard!) However, if we can let go of the hows and the when’s, then we allow magic to enter that often allows us to achieve our outcome.
I should also add, we are all working this out as we go. Life doesn’t have a manual but what I can offer you is billions of choices in each life time. Studies have recently shared that as adults we make 122 choices on average each day, the fun part is that half of these we then alter. The best thing you can do on your current path is be content with the choices you do have and let go of ‘how’ the outcome is achieved. Great news is that if you haven’t liked anything I’ve written about you have the choice to stop reading, that said I hope you keep returning for more content. Perhaps everything really is a choice?
Easter holidays are great in my opinion as it gives me even more time to read. In the last few days I’ve read four books and I’ve learnt that I like to take phrases, sections of overall moral lessons from books. It’s like learning from a journey without the hassle of leaving the house and you don’t have to worry about passports or tickets.
In Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors, the book reflects on four adult siblings, one has passed away and as the story continues you realise that they each blame themselves, feel they should have done more to prevent the death of their adored sister. Their mother wisely informs them ‘you’re not that important’ and it made me laugh and then reflect.
So often after a bereavement or loss such as job or relationship break down we think we should have done more, could have done something different to alter the paradigm we are now in. It’s also a time when the people around you will give you advice and it’s often deep and comes with a side order of best intensions and love.
That’s why I adore the advice; you’re not that important. People are complex beings that often make self absorbed decisions and forget to look ahead. We’re all often self absorbed that we don’t consider other peoples opinions or how our decisions might affect them. To an extent this is a good thing, if we thought things through thoroughly and weighed up all of the options we may find we’d never leave the house or do anything, we’d also be permanently crippled by anxiety and ‘what ifs’ would leave us paralysed in fear.
That said. we naturally want to help our loved ones and when things take a dark turn it’s natural for us to reflect on what we could of done to prevent the situation. However, we all need a little Mum advice, the best is often blunt and to the point…you aren’t that important. They did what they did because they wanted to. They made that move because they thought it was best, or perhaps they should have done something early but they were too scared or perhaps didn’t think it was important.
We can’t always alter others lives, we can give opinions when asked, we can offer guidance and practical solutions but this isn’t a Disney movie where epiphanies occur at just the right moment followed by a musical encore (disappointing I realise). Instead, listen carefully this week to those that do listen to you, that do make time for you – they think you’re important and don’t be offended by those that don’t. Instead, ensure you listen to yourself. You are the most influential person in your life.
Recently I have been the recipient of kindness and I wanted to pass it on. This blog comes with an affiliated link but if that’s not your thing, then just don’t press the link. That said, as always at fridgesays this blog is worth the read for a hopefully warm glow.
In November, I had a period that was so intense it made me vomit. If I can move around I’m usually fine, but mother nature struck when I found myself in a three hour board meeting, wearing a pencil skirt in a room with little ventilation, to say it was less than ideal was an understatement but once I was out of the meeting and able to move I soon felt better. My friend in the meeting, Kelly commented that she saw me go pale before I exited for the ladies facilities. Like a pro I returned but we joked on the way home that there was no way I could have hidden a hot water bottle under my skirt, that is not a pro move, so suffer it was.
A couple of days later in the office Kelly said she had a gift for me:
https://amzn.to/3ESlyf4 (link if you’d like to know more) . It was this box of three heated pain relief pads, that claim to be discreet and last for 12 hours….
Let’s take a pause to thank the gorgeous Kelly for seeing these and thinking of me, that to me is true kindness. Having a tribe of wonderful people around me is the greatest gift a person could ask for.
During my menstruation cycle in January I gave them a whirl and I was blown away! A simple peel of the wrapper and it stuck in place all day and most of the evening. The product provides a gentle heat (not intense as a hot water bottle) and the warmth kept coming. I honestly didn’t believe it would last 12 hours. The pad I used was still producing warmth 16 hours later… who knew iron and carbon could heal pain and how does warmth actually heal? In essence, heat causes the blood vessels in that area to dilate, enhancing perfusion to the targeted tissue. For under £2 for three pads that’s a lot of healing for little expense.
I will certainly be purchasing more, to be able to stick one in place and get on with my day whilst receiving a warm hug where needed is an absolute game changer as a full time working parent. I also plan to buy a few as gifts, one for a friend who really suffers with her menstruation and another who has a daughter about to start her periods. These would have been so handy when I was at school, trying to focus on the lesson content but equally feeling like my uterus was doing the can-can. Kindness matters and whilst I’m grateful to Kelly for her kind act, I’m also an advocate for passing kindness on to others.
Like I said, if you have a sad uterus in your life, click the link and give these a whirl.
It was Friday, the sun was shining and I’d just come out of a wonderful but intense yoga session, I’d opted for poses that were challenging and I’d managed to survive! The class was made up of a group of women and I was pleased to see a man had joined, after all such a practice should be open to all. He was on the other side of the room to me and honestly was irrelevant once the class began, mainly as I went into ‘yoga mode’ where only my mat and me exist against the elements.
Yoga classes are a mental battle of keeping up, keeping still, listening, focus and trying to do my best whilst politely asking my inner thoughts to not become egotistical or full of self sabotage, there’s a lot more than a down dog going on, plus when I’m upside down I often lose track of my left and right.
As I made my way to my car, yoga mat slung over my shoulder the man approached and made small talk about the class. I agreed and upon reaching my car closed the conversation down with a comment about enjoying the weekend.
I beeped the key fob of my car and he said ‘ohhh that makes sense… you’re one of those women, everything perfect and supported by your husband, easy breezy’ – I was stunned and lost for words, we had gone from the adrenaline high of a yoga class, polite chat and suddenly my entire being was being attacked.
I stumbled on words whilst putting my mat in my car and felt his male ego stab me. Then I felt the fire in my soul burn as rage ensued. I said ‘Actually, not that it’s any of your f***ing business but I’m financially independent. If I am perfect it’s because I don’t walk around judging others, see you next week’ I then went to close my door and uttered the words ‘what a sad person’
This is where the magic happened. I have been stumbled and verbally attacked previously, most of us have. I’ve learnt to not give the other person my power nor allow myself to be held down with sadness or anger caused by others. By the time I’d reversed out of my parking spot I was smiling and back to feeling good, reflecting on my class practise and letting go of any negative energy. The rollercoaster of the high of my exercise to the low of being attacked, right back to feeling good was probably less than a minute.
Historically,!I may have driven off in rage, I’m not the type to not verbally retaliate (I’ll work on it as I know there is also power in silence) but I was proud of speaking up but also not entering into a situation. You see any judgement that was made about me was not only incorrect, it wasn’t about me. The insult was about his ability, perception or inner demons, the clear jealous comment was his to own. The fact he felt able to share this shows great privilege on his part and also sadness. My life is too precious to adopt emotions that belong to others, especially someone I’ve never met before.
Should you ever find yourself verbally attacked, or if out of the blue someone’s word are aimed towards you like an arrow. Simply retaliate by taking their arrow and bending it into a boomerang. You deserve to be surrounded by people that build you up, make you feel good and support you. Anything less is responded much like the quote ‘don’t absorb’
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