There’s always another way…

My guys not much of a writer or sharer of 'personal stuff' (he'd much rather put a brave face on, crack a smile, a laugh or a joke), yet today he wrote this...

A story of his I never would have told yet I'm proud he shared, because you never know who's (quietly) going through their own stuff, with their own brave face on.

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Yesterday went a little like this...

5AM // Spot a text from my guy (who was 'sleeping' next door for the night) sent 30 minutes before. A photo of him looking beyond tired/stressed/wondering what the heck to do with himself.

Go next door, give him a cuddle. Remind him he's loved and agree this is the unfairest thing in the whole world, because it really is. So far as much as he's needed/wanted to, he's not slept. It's the pain. Always the pain.

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3.5 Years on... An update

3 years ago I wrote a post, the first about me and my guy and his accident.

I was *SO* nervous hitting publish. How I'd be seen, how he'd react.

Yet that post opened the doors to the biggest wave of kindness and love and support I've ever received, and in a way, that wave saved me, and him.

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I want to love my body again…

I want to love my body again.

I can barely look at it right now, and what I've done to it.

After years of feeling ashamed of how I looked - larger and softer than felt natural for my frame, I started to love me, to take care of me, eating good foods (mindfully) and finding exercise I loved.

It saw me find a body I loved too - one that finally felt like 'me'.

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