Be the Sidekick

Have you heard the saying, “Be the hero of your own story!”?

It is a great saying, and certainly one I live by. But, how about this: Be the sidekick of someone else story

Sidekick? What are you going on about Li? I don’t want to be the sidekick of someone else story! I want to be the hero!

Hang  on, hang on.

You can be.

I love the stories where the ‘sidekick’ saves the day. The stories where you know, had it not been for the sidekick, the hero would of stumbled, fallen, and never got back up. Let’s look at Sam from Lord of The Rings. Can we honestly say, Frodo would have reached the end of his Heroes Journey had it not been for the support and friendship of Sam? I don’t think so.


As a lightworker, I have spent a great deal of time bettering myself. Dragging myself out of the depths of mental illness and improving my soul. But I could not have done that without some pretty kick Arse sidekicks. I am very lucky to have some wonderful friends who have fought alongside me during my own personal Heroes Journey. While we may not have journeyed through Mordor, we have gone through some hellish times. Without them, I would never have been able to pick myself up.


So, I challenge you to be the sidekick of someone else’s story. Take their hand, support them and allow them to be the hero. Be the Sam to someone else’s Frodo. hero

A Witchy view on the General Election



A witchy, empathic mental health perspective of the general election


Today is the general election for the United Kingdom. I feel crap; not because of apathy or annoyance or anything negative regarding the general election. But because yesterday I had a major empathic attack which then caused a depressive blip. I did not sleep well and awoke feeling like I had been hit by a truck.


It’s overwhelming me. I can feel the anxiety and concern of millions of people and it’s crippling me. I can feel the worry of those, like me, who are not making ends meet because of taxes, cuts in tax credits and poor wages.  I have tried to ground myself, yet even when I voted this morning I could feel the weight of the country.


I don’t often talk about politics but I have been greatly invested in this General Election for many reasons. I used to work for the NHS and honestly, the hard workers do not get treated well or paid enough for what they do. I am a humanist. I believe in protecting vulnerable people financially and medically. I believe in equality and I hate that the gap between classes is growing.


No, wait.


I believe that the conservatives have pretty much erased the working-class due to their financial incentive to protect the upper classes and as such we have all fallen into the ‘under class’ We just about get by each month. Though most of us forgo meals so our children can eat.


I support Labour. Well, I support Jeremy Corbyn. I believe in him as a man and a politician because he does not back pedal nor does it lie.


I support Labour because they have historically always fought for the people.


I am a witch. I support equality. I support Labour.


Home education journey to youtube

Hair is not beauty: Why I shaved my head


Since shaving my head I have been asked the same questions repeatedly by people: Why did you shave your hair off? Does your partner like it? Are you going to grow it back?

I have then heard the following statements: Wow, you’re brave! I wish I had the guts to do that! It suits you so much!

Here’s the deal. Your hair style does not change your face. It does not change how you look. Your perception of your true self changes depending on your confidence. Hair, clothes, makeup, none of this really changes how your face looks. These things do change how YOU feel about yourself and this is where I have a huge problem with society.

Women are shown from an early age a set of expectations. We see aisles of hair products, magazines promoting hair styles, all with the phrases of, “Feel beautiful” “Look great!” It’s advertising. It’s a business and it’s a load of rubbish.

My hair gradually started getting shorter and shorter over the past few years, with side shaves, undercuts and Mohawks. Then, a month ago I realised I’d had enough. If I had a bad hair day I would feel ugly. My hair had not changed my face. I still had the same face, but the media and society had already dug their claws in and brainwashed me into believing my hair was directly linked to how attractive I was to the outside world, and to me. This did not sit right with me. So I shaved my hair off. It’s just hair.

Since shaving my hair off I have never had a bad hair day, I have never felt down, low or unattractive and more importantly I am finally seeing me. I see the real me. My face is just my face, and has always been the same face. Removing my hair made me come to terms with a great many things, and I do not plan on growing my hair back.  My bangs used to hide my frown lines, now I embrace my frown lines. The laugh lines I used to hide are on full view to the world and I can finally focus on just being me. When I see adverts for hair products or hair styles, using words to lure the buyer into thinking that product will make them attractive, I roll my eyes. You are attractive, your hair does not define you, and it should not define you.

Historically hair was a sign of wealth, the more hair you had, the bigger you had, the higher up you were. It’s been a status thing. So perhaps me shaving my head is a status thing too, a status stating I do not give a shit about how society dictates I should look, feel and more importantly what is viewed as attractive.

We’re all beautiful. With or without hair. Your beauty is on YOUR terms. No one else’s. Do not let them define you.


Do you ever go to type in your password and your fingers go, “No, fuck this, we’ll type some random gibberish.” Fingers…how you betray me.


Shameless. Hopeless. Help.

Time… Or lack of it. Day in the Life.


I struggle sometimes with finding time to write, especially the past week. The free time I have found, I have used for my other hobbies, being playing xbox or catching up on reading. It was my daughter’s 10th birthday on Wednesday, and the past week has been filled with plans and present wrapping. Thursday was her birthday party in which she invited 4 friends over and I was left in a numb state of audio shock. Who would have thought 4 small, dainty little creatures could create so much noise? Think their sonic screaming and giggling episode left me with a burst ear drum lol. So, come Friday in typical family fashion, myself and my daughter both came down with a throat/chest cold thing.

I feel guilty for not writing, so today I managed 400 words while heavily medicated and with several cups of coffee down me.  So, as a reward am blogging. I told myself I would not post a blog until I had done some writing, so if a blog is not posted one day, you know why.

Someone asked me the other day how I fill my day up, they had visions of me doing very little, lounging around with little responsibilities. So, below I will explain the life of a stay at home writing mother 🙂

7am: Get up. Drink coffee. Drink more coffee. Contemplate the possibility of building a teleport machine to teleport daughter to school. Still half asleep, stub toe on door frame.

7:15 am: Awaken daughter. Five minutes later wake her up again. Last resort pick ten year old up, carry into front room. Place cup of tea and breakfast infront of her. Watch for signs of life.

7:30 am converse with Partner about how mornings suck. Drink more coffee. Make packed lunches. Get myself washed, dressed and semi-presentable.

8am: Tell daughter to get dressed. Help her with her hair, pack school bag.

8.30am: Leave for school. Walk daughter the 1.8 mile walk to school, vacantly stand in school playground along side other zombie-like mothers and fathers. Wave goodbye to child. Walk home.

9.30 am. Return home after saying hello to every cat I met on the walk back.  Tell partner all about the cats I met. Become quite passionate about cats. Think about creating a cat character for a story.

9.40am Make all beds, open curtains. Put washing machine one. Tidy kitchen. Drink coffee.

10 am Open lap top. Stare at laptop. Go and harass partner. Move from coffee onto tea.

11 am Settle down to write, partner starts playing x-box. Begin backseat gaming and giving “helpful” advice.

12 noon : walk around house listening to music, Write whole novel in my head. Triumphantly sit down before laptop to write. Manage one word.

1pm Say goodbye to Partner as he goes to work. Get vacuum cleaner out. Dust and clean whole house.

2pm, Get a few more pages down of novel down.

2:45 Head out to collect daughter from school. Say hello to every cat I see.

3:30 Return home after cat spotting with daughter. Discuss how we should get a cat. Help daughter with homework and school book reading.

4pm: Begin preparing dinner.

5pm Have dinner

6pm Do a little more writing.

7pm Help daughter have a shower and do some reading.

8pm Get daughter into bed. Tidy house up. Look at dishes. Contemplate doing dishes. Spend several minutes eyeing up dishes before finally doing them.

8:30 pm knuckle down with some serious writing.

9:30 pm Have bath.

10:15 pm Welcome partner home, tell him all about cats, school playgrounds and usually end up having a major giggle fit due to him always managing to make me laugh. Nurse pulled rib muscles from laughing so much and head to bed.

I would write allot more, but I enjoy spending time with my family. I am not sure if it counts as procrastination, maybe I should harden up and just knuckle down but I find, I write more in the short moments I have, surrounded by love, hugs and laughter, than I ever did when alone 🙂