a work in progress

Category: Stuff About Your Body (Page 1 of 3)


Why are we living in the manic?
Why so busy?
Why so committed?
Why so overloaded?

Why no time to breathe.
No time to walk.
No time to laugh.

Where are we running to?

You know it’s pointless right?

Because you might show up.
But energy doesn’t lie.

So let go of the angst.
And pace it.

We’ve got a long way to go.


Keys Out

I wish.
The thoughts in my head.
Would just hit a dead end.
Switch into park.
And stop.

Engines off.


It just is.

You can never tick all the boxes.

Before it’s too late

You lost the love.
You lost the love.
Somewhere between then and now.
You lost the love.

The tendrils upon her face.
The depth in your eyes.

You lost the love.

Now there is just the everyday.
There is no cherish.
I’m searching for the laughter and I can’t find it.

She doesn’t laugh.
Neither do you.

There is care.
There is concern.

But let me not be fooled.
There is no.

No adoration.

Your sign?
The bickering.

Decades from now?
It’ll be rage.
Or maybe it won’t even be decades away.
Just a year or two will do.


Trade it my friend.
Trade the bickering for love.
Before you let it poison her.

So long gone, you can’t identify the woman you were once so deeply in love with.

It’s on you.
Because she’s past halfway there my friend.



It’s our responsibility to ask the questions.

// I always felt I didn’t need to know about the investments, about the money, about the fine lines, about my own health and more. I put this ownice on Vivek. I’m learning now. Everything to do with me and Aru, is my responsibility. And I need to know, I need to be informed. 

Is depression?

Perhaps not the act that cause you become / be / do. But the after math of all of that. 

The dawning. 

The Trained Introvert

I used to be quiet. I used to cry every day that I had to attend kindergarten, probably for months. My dad sent the driver with a big ruler in the boot to ensure I wasn’t to come back home in the car, but to get out of the car instead. 

I didn’t like parties or functions. 
Then at some point, it dawned on me. 

That perhaps, to be popular. 

You needed to smile and laugh and socialise. 

Perhaps to be loved among your peers and respected, 

You needed to turn on the charm and dial out the right details. 

And so I did. 

I got the popularity. 

I got the 500+ on Facebook. 

I got the “friends”. 
But I stopped being who I innately was. 

I lost all that for this falsehood. 
And truth is. 

I don’t really want the 500. I just want the 5. 

And the truth is. 

I don’t want to pretend anymore. 
I’d rather be me. 

Private. Quiet. 
But happy to be in the sun

With the right person. 
Instead of the 100 wrong ones. 


Are You Tired? 

There could be 100 reasons why. 
But try turning off the wifi and the data for a day. 

And see if your brain feels better for it. 

For the chance to breathe. 

A chance to 



Are you listening? 

Your body is telling you things. But are you listening to what it’s saying? 
It’s saying what your soul has been saying from long before. 

But your soul can’t seem to get through to you. 
So it’s using a physical sign you can’t deny exists. 

You can’t suppress it. 

Are you listening? 


The Stylist Experience

I don’t usually write about fashion / looks / trends here. So don’t worry – this isn’t that type of a post 🙂 

This year, one of my goals was to get my wardrobe sorted. I felt like I needed some realignment. Prior to Aru, all I wore was silk. I’m obsessed with silk. But after him, I needed to wear a lot more easy wash cotton and knits. 

But I put off this wardrobe change. In my eyes, it wasn’t important. It was vain. And to pay for vanity. Gosh! I’m a walking oxymoron. Hi 

So finally this clothing line I’m starting gave me the perfect excuse. 

“Get advise for the clothing.” 

Disguised as, “learn more about your own dressing style”. 

A friend of mine put me onto Meagan Harding. 

When I met her at a fashion event, her kind eyes were enough I needed to be able to trust her with all that vulnerability. 

So I booked her in under the thinking that it was more for the business than it was for my vanity. Man, I have serious issues… But I’ll save that for another day. 

One of the earliest questions Meagan asked me was:

How do you want to be perceived / how do you want to feel when you wear clothes. 

I had two responses. 

For business, I wanted people to want to emulate me. I wanted them to be inspired by my swag so much, that they wanted a piece of it. 

For personal, I wanted to be subdued. I didn’t want another woman to envy me. I didn’t want to be perceived as “showing off”. For fear that it might make a friend feel less. 

Whilst she got the first, she didn’t agree with the second. 

And deep down inside, I didn’t either. 

Why do we go playing ourselves down? 

In some way or form? 

Less smarter than we are at work. 

Less savvier than we are in our style. 

Less confident than we are in our relationships. 
When did making others feel better equate to making ourselves less? 


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