Patterns or a leap out of the comfort zone.

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I am fond of patterns. I fear alterations. Ever so slight changes throw me off the loop. I just don’t deal well with unexpected. And, as of lately, everything is always so unexpected. So much it scares me. It’s kind of like being thrown from a cliff.

This year has been one for changes. I have opened my heart. I have stopped fearing certain things. I’ve stood in a classroom and given a presentation. I’ve met new people. I’ve been at parties. I’ve tried to understand people who are not necessarily like minded and succeeded. I’ve started running. And wearing short shorts and skirts in public. I’ve grown to love the person I am becoming, I think she’s pretty cool.

It hasn’t been easy. Giving up what you thought safe to go and get what you want the most. Because all these do nothing but getting me closer to the things I want, to the things I wish, to the things I will have.

The comfort zone is easy. The comfort zone is safe. But, the comfort zone also means settling down just because you are too scared to keep trying. And I will never stop trying. If there is something I am, that’s a striver. If there is something I want, it is to do better.






Serendipities or every single thing you do is magic.

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Live your life as though every single breath you take is magic. Appreciate what you have. Wake up every morning and silently count your blessings. Only worry about running out of fingers. Head outside and see the world still half asleep. Smile to yourself because your thoughts are pretty. Head into the tube and think about what the day may bring. Leave your anxieties at your doorstep, you are here to achieve big things.

Live your life as a series of random acts of kindness. Do good and you will receive good. Be persistent and you will achieve results. Be kind and you will be loved. Be happy and you will make others happy too.

Live your life as though every single simple little thing is magic. Tell your friends about the things that worry you, only to end up laughing about them. Wake up five minutes early to scroll through blogs you like, or read, or stretch or just apply and extra coat of mascara. Allow yourself some downtime. Get enough sleep. Feed yourself pretty and stop pointing at your flaws. After all, you are perfect. So perfectly flawed. (……)


And every little thing you do is magic (…..)


Missing or the art of moving on.

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It’s been a few months without you. At first, I felt nothing but a sharp pain. Somewhere next to my ribcage it just hurt. It did. So bad I just wanted to go away.

But, yesterday I was talking to a friend about you and I realised that I missed you but I no longer felt the absence in my ribcage. You are gone, that’s a fact. And it is not going to change. You are not coming back. I hope you’re well wherever you are because it is so hard being here without you.

Sometimes I wish I had just one more chance to tell you that I am so proud of how much you fought. Proud of how good you made me and how much you taught me and the things we shared and the time we had. You were my friend and you will always be. It doesn’t matter that we won’t really see each other anymore. Whenever I will speak about you my eyes will light up. With nostalgia. With longing. But they will light up with happiness too. Because you left your mark in the earth, hell yes you did. You taught me how to be resilient and how to hang on and how to keep smiling even though I no longer wanted to.

And you made me strong. You reminded me of my beautiful bits when I didn’t feel very beautiful. You helped me fight my demons. And that’s something I will never forget, that the earth was a beautiful place whenever you stepped in. That life got better whenever you gave me a hug.


I miss you. And I love you. But I no longer ache. I hope that wherever you are you are proud. Because I am, I am proud I ever got to meet you.





Come dancing.

Come dancing because you are happy. Come dancing because you made it through, because you fought your ghosts and you won a battle. Just come dancing. Dance so hard your feet hurt. Dance. Smile so much you look demented. Just keep spinning. This has been a good day. And, you have a good life. AND, you are still alive. Celebrate. Bloody hell and for fuck sake, just go on and start dancing!


Meanwhile, I am still dancing…

You don’t have to be disordered to have an eating disorder.

Anyone you know could have an eating disorder. Your mum, your sister, the girl you used to sit with a school. You may not know but they are fighting a battle, a battle no-0ne knows anything about against themselves.

As a society, we are partly to blame: we are born in a world of strivers. Strive for better, get thinner, get fitter, skip dinner! Some of it is healthy, most of it is well aimed but some of it may kill one of this women. This women who are our mothers, daughters, sisters, friends.

Over the past few years I have seen a few of my close friends struggle with eating disorders. I have seen them isolate, create barriers, feel lonely and stigmatised. I have seen them suffer. And be scared, scared to admit the struggle, to admit that they are not ok.

Yet, for someone who doesn’t know what an eating disorder is like, what does it feel like they may think.. all this girl needs is a few meals. There’s nothing else to it, just bloody eat, for fuck sake!

I’m afraid that it runs a lot deeper than that. A person who chooses to not eat may hate himself or herself. Or, may be scared of not fitting the expectations. Or, just scared of life. But the worst thing is that they won’t talk about it. It is so hard to admit you’re struggling in a society that punishes the weak, that punishes people who say enough is enough and I can’t do this.

As of lately, I have grown closer to someone who is really struggling with coming to terms with her eating and her raging eating disorder. Slowly, relentlessly, she is losing all the things she loves because she is too scared to eat, too scared to go on, too scared to live. I have run out of ideas to help her but I haven’t run out of faith. I believe that she can do better if she wants to, I believe that one day she will find that one thing that will click and will save her life. I want to believe that.

So I encourage all of you to reach out. To try to help those people who could be helped, to lend a helping hand.


My dear baby girl, I am here,  I am rooting for you.








Sun still rises (…) even through the rain.

IMG_0479Today I looked around and thought: it is a good day to be alive. Not much, not a lot, just that, alive. I don’t need many things. Actually,I’d say I am kind of blessed. I have good friends, I only hate certain things when they get way too hard for me to handle and I find one reason to smile every single day, even if it is just the once and it truly  lights up my face.

Come to think of it and looking back,  I have been alive for a long time. Just that, alive. Dancing around, trying my own  way at life, learning and crashing and burning and starting all over again just to be better. You could say I am proud. I guess deep down I am. Very. Extremely. Madly.

Because in spite of the days where it gets dark, too dark to see, and the days were I just don’t want to see I am still going. I am still trying. I am still having my own hand at this. At life. I am still here. And I am not going anywhere.




Social media is a good liar.


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I live an idyllic life on social media.

According to my posts I spent heaps of time outside (running, walking,seeing the world)  pursue various interests and entertain several friendships. It is fascinating. I always look happy, my make up is kind of good and I usually have something nice or positive to say.

I am not going to say all these are a lie but I guess I am just choosing what do I share. I do not share my period zits or my 5 am face or the fact that my legs are still shaking from my run yesterday. I do not share that I am stressed and that I talk too quickly and forget mostly everything and anything because I can’t stop worrying about what’s coming next. And I guess that every now and then I add a few filters here and there,you know, to add some color. And hell yes, I like to share what I’ve learned but I don’t usually say how did I learn it or how hard it was to reach that point. It is kind of weird.

I mean, I truly am this happy person I picture. I do enjoy my runs, and seeing my city, and bouncing up and down but there is a lot more to it.

So today I embrace my struggle, my not so beautiful bits and my not so good days. Even when I stumble, I will get up. Even when it gets ugly, I will still have a pretty story to tell.

Never forget that…

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Life in bridges or today was not a good day.


I ran through the bridges today. I ran because I was angry. I ran because I was tired. I ran because I didn’t know what to do. I ran because I wanted to know.

A year ago this time I was terrified of most of the world outside. I had been stuck in a routine where I had quit several things just because I couldn’t hack them, just because I thought I couldn’t do it anymore.

It is hard to try and not succeed. It happens a lot. You will wake up one day and you won’t be successful. And you won’t be successful the next one either, and probably… not the one after that… either. What I am trying to say is that it takes time. You may fuck something up one day.  And the next one won’t be any better. And you will feel like you have tried so hard and so much it is just ungrateful. Because that’s what will happen: it will become ungrateful.

But, then, you will just get out and run through your bridges. Do your grieving, move on and keep trying. Because maybe, this will work one day. Because, maybe, I can hack this.


Today wasn’t a good day. But tomorrow may be. Or may not. But I still want to see (……)


What a difference a day makes.

image.jpegA day like today two years ago someone I knew chose to jump from a window. You wouldn’t have said she was depressed. Yet she was and she couldn’t take living or loving anymore so she went ahead and took the biggest of leaps: the leap onto not-existing. We miss you on earth, C.

But, then, day like today last year I met one of the people who have been there for me the most this year. There’s lots I have to thank her for. For reminding me that I am strong. And worthy. And that I can do things.

What I am trying to say is that you never know what a day will bring. Some days may stay tarnished in your calendar forever, some may not. Because in the end the thing that really matters is to make days count. To mourn the bad and celebrate the good and remember that we used to be happy and feel so proud.

It is hard to let go of things. It is hard to snap out of moods. But it is even harder to go through life without living because we are too scared. Scared of laughing, of sharing drinks in crowded bars, of accepting people in our heart. Scared of being the beautiful people we are and trapped onto thinking we will never be enough.

Well, don’t. Make your days count. Cherish the good. Exorcise the bad. Life is a journey, life is a way, life is beautiful. Baby steps, keep it up and start living.

Mental illness and all of her friends.

Monday was a tough day. I said something I didn’t really mean. Actually, I’m lying. I did mean it. If she doesn’t start eating she is going to die. And I don’t really think she wants to be alive right now. A tough call and the wrong choice of words. The recipe for a disaster.

My head has been running a mile a minute since then. I feel guilty. I know that eating disorders are tough. I know that in her heart she doesn’t want to die. She just wants to be fucking perfect. And I know that deep down she must know this wrong but at the same time this is everything she knows. She’s standing at a crossroad. Heading nowhere.

If I could just find my words I’d tell her… I’d tell her that it does get better over time. That she will want to dance again. And that tights must touch so you can hear them laugh together. I wish I could tell her that one day she will meet someone that will love her for all the beautiful things she already is and not the ones she wishes she was. And I wish she could come to my wedding. And see me have children. And stop staring at her own life from the sidelines. I wish. I really do. I do so much it breaks my heart.

So today I just want to quickly remind all of you that if you are having a bad body image day,this too shall pass. That you are beautiful. And that your curves bear the weight of all the pretty things you are. Because you are indeed. Pretty. Brave. Strong. Powerful.


All my prayers are with you… I’m rooting for you (…..)