
Sex, Sexuality and Consent
When I was, ooh… 17 years old (give or take) I wrote a “dirty” poem for the man I thought I was in love with. I don’t remember the words, but I remember it was a little bit rude, a little bit “naughty”. That poem…
When I was, ooh… 17 years old (give or take) I wrote a “dirty” poem for the man I thought I was in love with. I don’t remember the words, but I remember it was a little bit rude, a little bit “naughty”. That poem…
What a month. WHAT A MONTH. Is it just me, or is May easily the busiest month of the year? (It probably is just me.) The end of April (that’s basically May, right?) saw this blog – well, domain – reach 15. FIFTEEN years of…
I was having a conversation with Gaz in bed the other day. You know the type: snuggled up in bed, pillow talk, vulnerabilities exposed, all that shit. And this deep, meaningful conversation — the sort of conversation I can only truthfully have with my fucking…
Off the back of my post about plans for 2017, and following a conversation with my darling husband last night during which I got defensive more than once (even though he spoke the truth) I woke up with fire in my belly. Taking advantage before…
If you follow me on social media at all (you all follow me on social media, right?) you’ll know that Gaz asked me to marry him last week. I was lying in bed on Sunday morning, having not long woken up, and Gaz just randomly…