A Question About Life With Endometriosis


In this journey of being honest about my struggles and my life with endometriosis, people often ask :

“How do you manage to cook and make smoothies whilst having Endo? I really struggle!

The truth is I DON’T manage. Social media only shows you the times I succeeded in getting out of bed and preparing food.

It doesn’t show you all the times all I ate was a cup of instant noodles, dry toast and maybe if I was lucky an apple

Doesn’t show all the times I ordered in because I couldn’t stand up.

Doesn’t show all the times I drank Pepsi by the litre and ate oreos by the box as I cried to myself on my sofa

Doesn’t show how full my freezer is of pre-prepared meals, from days I actually have energy, because sometimes I bleed so heavily whilst preparing food I have blood running down my legs.

Doesn’t show all the times I have tried and failed, all the times I just couldn’t no matter how much I wanted.

NEVER EVER feel like you are failing if you cant do it all!

Never ever feel like you should be living with this disease in any way different than what you are, you know what you can and cant do, only you live in your body.

We are all struggling. Its ok, its all going to be ok, somehow.

Stay strong fellow #endowarriors, I’m here with you in solidarity.


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The Problem with “Nice Guys”

( TW: Will contain themes of sexual assault, rape, possible violence, non-graphically and without detailed depictions of sexual acts and violence)

If the ‘Aziz’ story teaches us anything, it is that there is a problem with self-professed good guys.
They still think a no can be turned to a yes and don’t understand anything about coerced consent.

Assualt like many other things is not straightforward. Simply because a woman didn’t leave, doesn’t mean she consented, because she didn’t say “NO” emphatically enough for you, doesn’t mean she consented.

Just because you didn’t violently assault someone, doesn’t mean you didn’t act predatorily or didn’t violate someone and their boundaries.
Simply because you didn’t penetrate someone does not mean you didn’t not sexually assault someone.
Just because you call someone an uber and say, “hope you get home safe” doesn’t mean, you are a gentleman, doesn’t mean you have any concern for actual safety, just means you are good with appearances.

Just because “I am a nice guy, you can feel safe with me” comes out of your mouth, doesn’t mean it comes from your demeanour, or that you are to be 100% trusted.
It also doesn’t give you the “ In the moment, I didn’t understand” pass.

This whole thing with Aziz wasn’t just a “bad date”, it can’t just be marked down as ” we didn’t click
You should remember, for a guy a bad date or for that matter ” bad sex” is often, “We didn’t click, oh well, there’s always next time. ” Maybe it also leaves you an anecdote or two for the next time you are down the pub.

For women, the best case scenario is ” Thank the lord I didn’t get raped and/or killed tonight.”

We are socialised to minimise and survive, we are socialised that when asked nicely it is impolite to refuse.
We are told not to be a “stuck up bitch” which we don’t understand is a synonym for ” don’t be outspoken, know your place and don’t disagree.”
We are told to, diminish, diminish until we are seen with favourable eyes.
We are taught, that ‘NO!’, can’t ever really be said emphatically enough if you already kissed a guy, or blew a guy.
We are taught that; boys will be boys.
Taught we are exaggerating when we feel violated
Told we didn’t speak loudly enough, but when we do, we should keep “those kinds of things” private.
Taught our clothes made us victims and if not our fear did.

Taught that maybe only once in a generation will we really matter.



On Professionalism and Portugal

I struggle often.

I think everyone does, it is human.

But often I am made to feel that I am just weak and making excuses and you know what, sometimes, maybe I am.

But most often I am not, I push beyond what is my limit on a daily basis and yes my limit is perhaps smaller than yours,
but so what?

Am I less human for that? Am I less an adult?
I struggle with pain management and hormonal imbalance. Some days I am just in a mood and I don’t wanna be but my stupid brain has gone through the washing machine backwards and come out all crinkled and hormonal and bleh. Plus I have my house, cat husband and extended family to think of as well as developing my business and creative endeavours.

Yet, I always strive to remain professional and to remain polite… and it is taxing, because so few people offer me the same courtesy, especially in Portugal.

Professional conduct here I have found to be anything but, there is an unspoken rule if they say it will take 15 minutes, expect to wait 30 if they say it will take 7 days expect it no earlier than 10.

That is an incredibly annoying way to live life, either admit to me you are not going to be able to meet our deadline or give me the 10 day deadline rather than the 7 day one from the start be blunt, don’t play nice and give me the shit eating grin and expect me to smile right back as the shit hits the fan, ’cause that way all that happens is I get shit between my teeth and no deadline met either.

Can you guys just… be professional.
If you wish to be the new tech capital of Europe, if you have set up a “ task force” to poach businesses away from the UK after Brexit, get your shit together, because this isn’t going to fly with lots of companies, especially those from outside of Europe.

I expect professionalism both in tone, performance and general etiquette, as do lots of other people, do not look at me like I am the crazy one and need to relax, look to yourselves, you are the odd ones out. A lackadasical approach doesn’t cut it to the wider world.

In this country, more adults feel a fulfilling career is the deciding factor in a happy life, but lots of people report not being happy.

Perhaps if you became more efficient, took pride in even the most menial job, (Yes you may be assembling a burger in Mcdonalds, but you are feeding a person who is hungry, you are paying taxes and you have a job, you’re better off that at least  30% of the population) and didn’t have to spend hours after work fixing miscommunications and departmental cock-ups everyone would in general just feel better and feel their work life balance exists and their time is well spent.

Apologies for the rant, its been one of those days.

Writing and Coffee

I was never much of a coffee drinker

I preferred tea, hot chocolate and honestly… Pepsi.

As I get older I find myself writing more often than not with some form of milky coffee to my side and I begin to realise.

I am turning into my grandma.

She was always a coffee drinker, coffee with that “coffee mate” stuff.

I would make her a coffee every day,it would be something we bonded over when I was little and a relatively menial task I could do as teen that let my grandma sit down and take a load off.

I would make the coffee and we would sit and watch countdown or deal or no deal or come dine with me.

They were precious after school moments that added so much to my life, I am not sure how I have gone 11 years without them.

I am turning into her, but the question is…
Will I do her justice?

Much like every new “doctor”, the people they are wondering.. ( aside from if they will ever measure up to David Tennant)

Will they do them justice?

I am like her, but I am not her.

For better and in many cases I am sure worse.

Would she be proud of the woman I have become?

Would she take great delight in the things in which I am like her?

Would she be ok with the few tweaks and changes I did to her character? In my own interest, my own politics,my own generation?

I don’t know.

One thing is for sure, every time I say a word with a potteries inflection and take a sip from my coffee, I get an urge to watch quiz shows and talk about race horses and eat cottage pie.

Its one thing of this regeneration I would never change.