The Rebel Poetess

I don't remember where I was when Elvis Presley was found dead(on the toilet of all places. ) I don't remember where I was when Neil Armstrong walked on the Moon.   I don't remember where I was when John Lennon was shot dead. Because I'm a child of the 80s.   I wasn't alive when those major news stories broke.   But I can tell you I was 15 my Mum woke me up after getting in from her Night Shift to tell me Princess Diana had died in a tragic RTA in Paris. Tony Blair was all over the news that day, the TV coverage showing crowds laying flowers at Westminster Palace. My Auntie actually went there to lay flowers. I can tell you when 9/11 happened I was living in Liverpool, in the Kensington area, in a three way student house share, one of the girls I was sharing with came into one of our rooms clutching the Liverpool Echo, the now iconic image of the Twin Towers ablaze silenced our idle chatter, and chilled us to the bone. I can tell you when Grenfell ...

Hello. It's Me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet? There's one problem. I don't feel safe at the moment. Nowhere is a safe space.   The places I used to found sanctuary, I now find scary.   I'm constantly anxious and fearful. Because he's still out there. Living his life. Getting on with things. Well I can't move on until I feel safe.  There is a lot of help out there.  I'm using the help.  I'm accepting it now,  That's been the part of this whole process I've found the hardest. I have always prided myself on being independent, self-sufficient, and not needing other people. Because forgiveness and acceptance are not the same thing.  I forgave my ex-boyfriend the moment I walked out of the door.  I looked him in the eye, and I said to him, 'you are a domestic abuser, and you will never be able to live with what you have done, until you have accepted it.'  Forgiveness was surprisi...

Oh hey there.   You're looking hot.    I hope you don't mind me saying. I wanted to write about a big topic today.   It's not pretty, it's not polite, and it's messy. Because today I am writing about rape.   If you think you will find this post upsetting, offensive or a trigger for you, feel free to switch off now. I won't be offended. Here goes. I know I've hinted at past trauma in previous posts. And you may have already guessed what happened to me. But The Rebel Poetess is all about being 100% real, and I am hoping this will be the last post of this type. I am seeing a counsellor now, and want the blog to be about what I intended it for. Books, poetry, arts, food, beauty, politics. But if I sugar coat anything it isn't true and it isn't right. I would be misleading you. So, basically, my first time, was not consensual. Yes I am talking about rape. I was 18, and it was somebody I knew.   I know this will be upsetting and maybe...

Hello...is it me you're looking for?! Hello, blogosphere. How are you doing? Apologies for the radio silence. I've been out of area. I've been out of the contact zone. I've had time and space to think about what I want.   And my mind has never been sharper or clearer.   My body never more lean or toned. And my mind never sharper or more well balanced. Because -I'll put my cards on the table here. I'm looking for love. Inconvenient, soul searching, makes you weak at the knees love. Rainbows, fireworks, unicorns. I thought I had it once. That was not love. I moved on, thought I'd found another rebel heart. I was mistaken. That person did not love me. You do not hurt someone you love in that way. Because ultimately, the most important relationship you can have in life is with yourself. You have to get that cracked before you can enter another relationship. -with another human. Anther person does not complete you. Well; I've been work...