I know why the caged bird has flown

The title of my blog is a tribute to the late and greatly celebrated African-American author and activist, Maya Angelou, who passed into a greater glory last week.

Maya Angelou’s world renowned books were amongst my prized possessions, especially the first part of her iconic autobiography: “I know why the caged bird sings.” This title reached out to my young heart that was also suffering the effects of lovelessness and emotional abuse. In its confused state, my mind and heart walked the journey that Dr Angelou walked, despite the fact that I lived in a different time, place and situation.

The writing was  honest, deep, flavoured with unashamed truths that were hard to swallow. It was the bitterness that I related to and I balked at the idea that I too could have been born into this wicked world. Maya’s life and mine were world’s apart but our shared womanly experiences created a bond that is today unbroken.

Knowing what I know now, in my half century year, that statement rings as true today as it did when I was teenager. The world is cruel and it’s still a man’s world where a woman cannot feel safe. Fear and persecution is our unique female inheritance and, each generation, has to reinvent itself in order to keep our daughters….and their daughters……as far from the harsh glare of misogyny as is possible.

Women feel. Women bleed. Women comfort. Women need. Like many of us, Maya was born into a world that she was ill prepared for. Abandonment and betrayal dogged her every step as she suffered for her art and personal progress. Maya was an independent thinker. She didn’t have a strong person to lean on. She was her own mentor.

In the world she inhabited, women were objects of desire and derision in equal measures. We’re still in shackles but they feel a little lighter in the 21^st century as women push against societal conventions, forge a life of their own and pay their own way.

In her writing, Maya’s experiences with the opposite sex were less than fulfilling. The male figures that punctuated her life were either disappointing or disastrous. “A woman needs a man like she needs a hole in her head” could have been an alternative title to one of her books.

Maya didn’t need a shoulder to cry on; hers were strong enough. She didn’t need someone to fix her; she learnt to do that herself. She didn’t need the little luxuries since she’d earned the greatest luxury of all: free speech. 

Maya flung the cage door wide open so that no woman need ever feel trapped by her sex. Being oppressed is not a reason to lose hope. Keep the sunshine in your head when the dark clouds gather. Let words be stronger than the sword. Let your voice be heard though the gun may silence it. 

The songbird has a short span of life but the song goes on...... so will the spiritual legacy of Maya Angelou.

It's in his DNA!

Finally, in the 21^st century, we can stop ruminating and surmising about  the good, bad and plain ugly qualities that make a satisfactory partner for the liberated new age woman.

In days of yore, there was talk that a man had to have the right sort of credentials to become the arm candy of the day – a tweed jacket, handlebar moustache, a touch of chivalry and a stiff, upper lip! The “it” in that time used to be “in his kiss” but through scientific advances we now know that we were being fooled. A functioning brain was superfluous as the increase in divorces indicate.

Nowadays, we’re so much more clued up about what a woman wants in a man – healthy DNA!! Yes, it’s genes (not jeans or manners) that maketh a healthy man. It’s not just his look that matters but how he’s hard-wired.  Can he serenade you, dance and put on a show? If he can hold his own in those three disciplines then it’s in his DNA.

We can’t always trust ourselves to accept that DNA is the reason for his weaknesses but perhaps the boy/man just can’t help it! He’s kind and gentle, he’s arrogant and pig-ignorant. He treats you like a princess then orders you to the scullery when he’s had a bad day. A man of a million mood swings and roundabouts….when’s good…he’s very, very, good but when he’s bad……he flips!!

You can’t just lay the blame on poor parenting since his poor mother doesn’t even understand him. It’s a quirk of nature that can make him a heart throb or a plain, old slob.

So how does free will affect DNA? It does and it doesn’t. Free will is a bad idea for anyone indecisive or with low self-esteem. Free will  is not so different to “Free Willy” – it’s a humongous responsibility to use our senses and grey matter to do the right thing. Often DNA will interfere in this process.

When we want to speak our mind, we recall the time when expressing an opinion was a dangerous thing. Our fight and flight tendencies are built into our DNA but courage is sadly not. DNA does not make us more or less braver than the next person. The unscientific evidence is that both human and inaction has left an impression on individual DNA. Darwin’s theory of evolution suggests that humans will adapt to their situation and react only if there’s a threat to survival.

Dog's best friend & DNA buddies!

My conclusion is that his DNA is a threat to your development. Giving in to his DNA is the slippery relationship slope that you’ll suffer many an injury on. The worst case scenario is to mingle your DNA and his but from that you will get some respite once the little darlings go off to university.  

Good cop/bad cop….it’s in his DNA. His credentials don’t mean a thing.

 Just stay clear and Don’t Navigate A**holes!!

Undomestic goddess

I eat choclate...I don't cook it!

Along life’s journey and particularly in my middle years, I’ve finally given myself the permission to be myself. This means conducting lengthy self-analysis sessions in the quiet moments also known as relaxation or emptying my mind.

 

You can’t hide from your true self or pretend to be something you’re not forever and  being what we’re not is what tends to happen in our active life as we conform to social and professional expectations.. I’ve been a big time people pleaser which has led to the false impression that I enjoy domesticity.

 

That’s a  misconception. That said, I do like to be organised, clean, creative, eat healthily, cook up a storm (now and then) and keep a budget. Where I fall short is that I cannot do those things in their entirety. Parts of my home are organised and clean, parts of me are creative,  I endeavour to eat consciously (except when apple pie and custard’s on the menu!), cooking is a forced mundane and budgeting  a challenge. I’m imperfect and domesticity doesn’t particularly thrill me.

 

Of course stability is still attractive……and a white, picket fence with roses around the door with a loving partner to share the good and bad times remains on my wish list.  But I’m not ungrateful for the place that life has brought me as I know myself a lot better than I used to.

 

Post divorce, I have undomesticated myself enough to not feel guilty for:

 

·         Staying in my pj’s on Sunday morning through to the afternoon

·         Saying “no”

·         Watching silly movies

·         Chatting to friends on the phone

·         Uncontrollable laughter

·         Relaxing in the garden with a cute bunny for company

·         having a healthy social life

·         Watching the sky at night

 

In the undomesticated state, the only “have to” is breathing; the rest is second-hand flotsam and jetsam. What other people think and say doesn’t mean as much as it used to.

 

Domesticity is  anathema to spontaneity. When you’re fully house trained, you buy into routines:

 

Washing, dusting, folding, scrubbing, polishing, chopping, peeling, boiling, bowing and scraping and stirring yourself into a heap of tedium and ennui. Yes, you might as well jump into the casserole and languish in the greasy juice!

Okay, it’s dull…but someone’s got to do it…..but why you?!

 

In a partnership of two, equal distribution of labour is necessary if harmonious relations are to be maintained. If chores are loaded on to just one person – the responsible one – then a divide occurs.

“Love me and leave the dishes dirty” is not a recipe for success.

 

I’m not domestic and yet I’m not inactive. I just prefer not to invest too much of my time in the kitchen. In fact, I’d like to the kitchen to be re-named as the social zone. Food is social and clearing up afterwards  more sociable. Life becomes more fluid when you don’t get stuck in the rut of clearing up, tidying and putting supper on for the ingrates, known as family!

 

Cath Kidston, the successful interior designer, has said that she would hate to be “a housewife” and I agree. Ms Kidston saw, in her own mother’s experience, that a woman is vulnerable if she doesn’t earn her own money. This I don’t dispute since I also was reliant on a man to “take care of business” for 22 years.  My mother also landed herself in the hapless situation known as marriage. The paradox is that Ms Kidston has earned a fortune by selling a range of polka-dotted and pretty floral homewares. The designs invoke nostalgia and hark back to a more innocent age when a woman’s worth was tied into her domestic abilities. Thank goodness I’ve broken the mould and I’ll work hard to prevent my daughter being chained to the kitchen sink.

 

In some relationships,  women (and some men) are little above a decorative object. Naturally, some objets d’art are valued and polished, some are unloved and left to gather dust and my experience was much like a Cath Kidston floral tea towel. I looked good, had some practical uses and spent a lot of time in the kitchen feeling lousy. If tea towels could speak they’d complain about being tossed aside after someone’s wiped their hands on them, I’m sure!

 

I don’t like kitchens. They’re functional spaces no doubt but I only like to look – not touch – them.

I'm allergic to kitchens

I enjoy a home cooked meal but the taste is always better when you haven’t spent time slaving over a hot stove yourself. I’m a prima donna girl – yes!-  and I want the world – far from the madding kitchen!

 

 

The Thatcher Wonder Years

Margaret Thatcher in death as much as life creates controversy. When you’re made of iron you just can’t help it. Influential people – living or dead -  evoke a wide range of strong emotions in people and Mrs T is no exception.

 Mrs Thatcher was the Prime Minister of my girl and young womanhood - the wonder years of 15 to 27. Though I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, she played a part in those important formative years  that I can now reflect upon….in wonder.

 Mrs Thatcher never suffered fools gladly which included the grandees in her cabinet, trade unions and, even to her discredit, some sections of the electorate. She was the Boadicea of politics and she broke the unions and privatised anything that smacked of an old boys network!

 I’m a woman in that ilk too but much less vociferous and forthright as she.  If only I’d taken a leaf out of her book and applied some of this non-sufferance to my own life where I was surrounded by a mish-mash of “ne’er do wells” who thought they could push me around.

 She had a healthy appetite for a fight and was fiercely determined. Her famous line: “you turn if you want to….that lady’s not for turning”….will go down in history and it’s a motto that every woman should adopt.

 



Frankly my dear...I don't give a damn!

I believe I became a home owner because of the PM in situ, Mrs T positively encouraged it. She wanted  people on even the lowest rung of the social ladder, as long as they were gainfully employed, to become home owners.

 he was passionate and patriotic. In 1982 when Argentina invaded the Falkland Islands in the South Atlantic war was declared. The islands were successfully defended despite significant loss of life that Mrs Thatcher is reported to have shed private tears over.

 

Mrs Thatcher was a force of nature with a unique synergy that found her poring over documents late into the night and rising early to face her day in Parliament.  Her enemies accused her of being ruthless. When does not a woman not have to be to get ahead of the game?

 It was surely this resilience that helped her survive an IRA bomb attack at the Conservative party’s annual conference in 1984. She emerged from the rubble and debris with barely a hair out of place and she vowed that the “enemies of democracy would be defeated”.  Her words were prophectic as the Peace Process for Northern Ireland was put into place and succeeded long after she left office.

 In her private life, Mrs Thatcher was fortunate in meeting and marrying a solid man who was content to play second fiddle to her ambitions. Her husband Denis, she described as “the golden thread running through her life” and indeed a supportive partner is worth their weight in gold! Would that I were as lucky as Mrs T!!

 

Crocodile teeth not tears!

Mrs Thatcher never considered herself a feminist but she was feminine. She never wore trousers and was careful with her appearance always appearing the well groomed professional rarely without a good handbag and delicate jewellery. She was thoughtful and kind to her staff. At Christmas she would choose and (sometimes wrap) fine china pieces for each of them. Her only failure in my eyes, was that she did not recruit other female members to her political circle, but am confident that she inspired many a woman to politics. Mrs T would have made an awesome mentor!

 Her critics saw her as losing touch and her major catastrophe was the ill thought out Poll Tax which lead to rioting on the streets of London. It was later abolished but Mrs Thatcher was demonised and ousted from the party. The humble grocer’s daughter’s position in a government, made of up of  crusty, old school men, became untenable and they plotted against her. Had she appointed more women to her cabinet I wonder if she would have survived?

 In 1991, she was replaced by the fifty shades of insipid grey  - John Major – who lasted only one term and had an affair with the only female in the cabinet. A very poor show and the Conservatives, who had won thrice with Mrs Thatcher at the helm, now conceded defeat to the opposition.

 My politics are neither left or right. In my view, Mrs Thatcher was an upwardly mobile, free market enterprising and independent thinking kind of gal….and so am I.  Her strength of character is something I’ll remember and I’d like to think that a little bit of her has rubbed off on me.

 The Wonder Years of The Thatcher era were remarkable.  I hope her political model will be studied by future generations.  News reports suggest that there’s a lot of hate over Mrs T’s legacy and that’s coming from the loathsome, political grandees and the far left. It wouldn’t have bothered the lady of iron (and steel) a jot. This is one lady who won’t be turning….even in her grave.

 

 

 

 

 

Lipstick and heels



In the pursuit of satisfactory relations between the sexes it is important to get ahead of your opponent. Sex equality does exist in the stratosphere but it’s rare on planet earth. Nevertheless, in the battle of the sexes , it’s vital to be armed and ready.

The point of differentiation is that neither sex is truly seeking equality. If it’s every man and woman for themselves then each of them wants a certain superiority that doesn’t interfere with the other’s development. Currently, that can’t be achieved in the social model known as marriage.

Relationships place a great strain on the two egos each vying for the upper hand. Climbing on your high horse and staying on this bucking bronco is the goal. A goal so unworthy it leaves no one the happier. If pride comes before a fall then get ready….and may the best man/woman win.

In relationships the weapons of choice for the female are lipstick, perfume and killer heels. That humble tube of colour, cleverly expunges pale and insipid lips and vamps them into a veritable hunk magnet; that’s if you know how to use your cupid’s bow effectively. The sexually predatory pout has never gone out of fashion and it has brought down many a man and helped many a woman to lay the foundation stone to her empire.

If the way to man’s heart is through his senses then there’s no better battering ram than a heavy coating of mascara. One flutter and he’ll throw open the gates of his castle. This visual assault should be accompanied by an age old seduction technique of a spray of perfume in all the necessary erotic spots- hair, neck, wrists and even below the belt will take you far. He’ll be putty in your hands once he’s spied those vertiginous Jimmy Choo’s that match his snakeskin Blahniks. 

Are relationships so shallow? Many are, that’s a fact and I won’t bore you wth statistics.

However, the one crucial additive to the above three is an intoxicant. Once your man or woman has had a skinful then it’s important to note how quickly a new relationship takes off….and before you know it you’ve been together twenty years…how’d that happen??

A little alcohol running through the veins takes the edge of reality and loosens the tongue. It gives you a certain Dutch courage and you may say and do things that are completely in character. Despite what people say, it’s impossible for alcohol to make you do crazy things unless you were thinking of it all along. Alcohol is innocent but you may not be!

A man more often than not finds your lipstick colour more attractive than you. His pupils dilate his heart starts racing and his breath gets a little ragged when he notices the sway of your elegant pins and that subtle aroma that mixes with your unique feminine odour.

Men never feel guilty about being superficial. Max Factor is a man with a sensitive side and he juggles his cosmetic empire efficiently. Men don’t need love if a conquest will do. One night in Bangkok and the world’s his oyster and he can boast about it for years to come.

We live in an increasingly visual world and we are judged by how we look. Sometimes you can get lucky and get the whole package – big looks and good brains – but it’s not essential. A man will roll over and beg if the lipstick and heels live up to what he’s read in GQ.

A man is a creature of simplicity: make up in a good light will cut the deal and with you as arm candy you’ll be irresistible to his ego. For added value (and pleasure) this could turn into a genuine love if he’s willing to jump through some hoops so keep an open mind. He’s from Mars and he could tempt you to leave your cosy pad on Venus.

Oh yes, a women only needs to don her battle gear and he’ll be a pushover. “Move over darling, I’m just about to powder my nose!” A blast of cosmetic dust can fool the enemy and deflower him in an instant. Just try it for yourself……….and leave a comment about your experience.

Woman - how she grows

China doll

Select parents who have emotional intelligence and a love of learning. They don’t have to be perfectly matched but they must not be complete opposites.

Remember your little seed is going to follow an example so make it a good one!

As a baby, look into her eyes. Laugh and smile a lot and what you give out will be reflected back to you.

Cheeky monkey!

Let her get messy and roll around the floor and have tantrums – it’s normal. Never silence her when she has something to say. A girl has to be allowed to feel and express her feelings.

Shower her with love and affection in the early years but also instil discipline.

To learn compassion and appreciation, show her the under-privileged and how the other half live.

Through understanding injustice she will acquire kindness.

Talk to her honestly about the ways of the world. Help her understand duality – the coexistence of good and evil.

Primadonna girl

She needs to know that love is the most abused word, state and concept in the universe. Love is many things to many people and, what some people call love, is highly damaging.

When she’s going through difficult teenage times, stand back and let her make some mistakes. She cannot develop resilience and resourcefulness unless she has experience of challenge and controversy.

Encourage her to move her body in sport or dance. Don’t let her just be a book worm holed up for hours in her room. Let her feel the surge of joy (and blood) when body and spirit are unleashed.

Education is life-long learning not just for making the grade and competing with others.

Limit social media

Place restrictions on her gadgets. Computer time is not more important than family time.

Teach her that eating healthily is vital to her inner and outer beauty. Fruit and vegetables are a girl’s best friend!

 Let her develop a strong father-daughter bond. Since he’s the first man in her life that makes him a hero…..and heros have a lot to live up to. If he lets her down then explain why – the male ego is highly dysfunctional and some fathers will never be heros.



Daddy's girl



When she is young, help her develop a positive body image by letting her show it off….with modesty and as a child of her time and fashion.

Friendship is important but true friends will never amount to more than a handful – choose well.

Travel will broaden her mind and she must do lots of it – whether at home or abroad – there’s no better education.

Choosing a husband/partner/significant other will be like walking through an emotional minefield.  
She should let go of an ideal but be true to her ideas. If he doesn’t match up to the latter then drop him like a ton of bricks!

Tell her that guilt and fear are poisons. Never allow her self-esteem to be infected by them.

Here comes trouble.....

Believe in her and support her. Use tough love when it’s necessary and send her positive thoughts in each moment whether you are apart or together.

There’ll be bad guys in her life but explain that there is a higher purpose and she must rise above them - never to be dragged down by them or even stay on their level.

Never expect anyone to take care of you; no matter how much he melts your heart!

Physical beauty is fleeting but inner beauty never fades. Cultivate beauty from within.

It’s important to forge a career for financial independence. She may have to do single parenting and her financial position will be vital to her well-being.

Pride & joy

Follow a passion and make it a life’s work.

Advise her never to tolerate a bully – for love or money. If he’s your significant other  -ditch him and if he’s your boss – quit!

Maturing nicely

 Anger is appropriate but not if it is used to demean another person. Talk over your frustrations with someone whom you feel safe with.

Never seek approval; it really doesn’t matter what others think. Do not strive to fit in.

Establish independendence of mind; its the sweetest state. Control freaks strictly prohibited!

Teach her that it is never wrong to let go. Letting go is true freedom and self-expression.

60 years young!

Lead by example and tell her that age is just a number if you keep your mind drinking from the fountain of youth.





A room and money of my own

Virginia Woolf famously said that : 'A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction'. I wholeheartedly agree.  This is not to say that a woman lives in isolation and that she cuts herself off from the world deliberately but when she is in a state of deep focus it’s a necessity.

A woman is many things to many people. She’s born with responsibilities and I speak from personal experience. I was born into a family of men and I had the good fortune (or not) to be the first born. From an early age, I was the secondary care-giver after my mother. I had three younger brothers who were the chicks to my mother hen.

The room to write

My mother was pre-occupied with a number of contentious issues. As a young wife in the 60’s & 70’s, she didn’t have much of an identity –a mere support for her husband. Her “job” was little above a domestic. The tragedy of this was that my mother was educated.  However, she suffered from first generation immigrant syndrome and did not value herself or her potential.

 My mother worked for periods in her life but with four children close in age this never developed into a career. My mother missed her family and the sunshine of her homeland. She did not relate to the perpetual, steel grey skies , rain that poured down like cold needles, scarves and hats that were needed to block out the icy winds, powder white snow that turned to black ice and clothes that took three days or more to dry in front of a fire. If not for her indomitable spirit and catholic beliefs she would have, in today’s terms, crashed and burned. 

Let him do it so you can write

Though my mother worked she did not have any real money. Whatever she earned was spent on the household and sometimes on the odd lipstick for herself. My mother was old school and self sacrificing so much so that my father, being a man of his time, took full advantage.

Playing the dutiful daughter made me invisible so I would  lock myself away for hours in my bedroom.  I read books and scribbled down random and convoluted thoughts that developed into a proclivity for fiction and poetry. At the age of around twelve, I found the thing that moved me and made me feel whole was writing. But what did I do with my new found talent? I hid it away in a closet,  let it out for brief periods but  never shared it with anyone.

"Me time" or else!

A woman has many faces; daughter, sister, wife and mother. These roles mire her in responsibility. Some of them fit, some are uncomfortable and some feel like a straitjacket. Though a woman can’t  break free from all of her unique responsibilities she has to make space amongst them for spiritual development. 


That’s not easy when her living space is invaded by the busy and colourful lives of her offspring and spouse. Her space might be just one clear work surface where she sits to collate the outpourings of her heart – her cares, woes and singular triumphs.

Money can be a grand obstacle on her spiritual and writing journey – whether she has too little or too much of it. If she has too little then she’s pre-occupied by making ends meet, scrimping and darning can be wearing to her soul. She may feel defeated even before the muse whispers intricate plots and vibrant characters into her ear. Her head may be buzzing with ideas but her body is fatigued. Her enthusiasm dampened by endless days on the domestic treadmill.

Money talks....and writes best sellers

If a woman is wealthy or marries into it,  it’s not plain sailing. She may be a trophy wife and the money isn’t truly hers. She has to “work “ for it by painting on a false smile, being beautifully coiffured, immaculately dressed whilst giving all and sundry the impression that she has the perfect life. Money does provide more than a few comforts and she’ll have a small army to take care of the chores but this is not true independence; especially if there’s an overbearing husband in the background.

 When a woman's in writing mode she has to lock herself away in a customised hideaway that can take the shape of a variety of forms – a den, a desk tucked away in the corner of her bedroom, a cafe, a shed at the bottom of the garden and even her car. 

Woman of substance

What’s important is that she’s not fussing over runny noses, untied shoelaces, meat and vegetables, dirty dishes  and a mountain of laundry.

Oh yes, a room of your own and money that belongs to you will enhance your writing skills by just allowing you to do it...but my advice to all budding writers is just do it anyway....amidst the chaos of your domestic life.

Writing on a wave

If you persevere you never know what inspiration it may bring and 
that's the key to success and.....good writing!

Heroes and Super-Heroes

Every mother is a hero. Some are super-heroes.  When a woman becomes a mother she is transformed into a defender and champion. She saves the world many times when she puts her best efforts into raising the next generation. But what separates the girls from the women and turns them from mere heroes into super heroes?

I say that it’s a combination of several factors. Motherhood is a Herculean task and many women find themselves embarking on a spiritual, emotional and financial marathon once the pangs of labour have subsided. However, the super hero is born once a woman finds herself doing the task of both mothering and fathering. 


A super-hero is not so much a mother for biological reasons as a spiritual leader, a mentor who protects and guides tender souls. Women find themselves on the path of single parenthood for a variety reasons and I have the greatest respect for anyone - male or female - who takes it on.

I am descended from a super hero. My paternal grandmother was widowed at a young age and became a lone parent to 13 children – the eldest being 14 and the youngest just a few months old with two sets of twins in between. This was in the 1930’s in a developing country with no welfare state. She fed and clothed her family on a paltry widow’s pension and.... didn’t she do well?  

Granny Morgan - super-hero and party animal

Granny was a bon viveur who worked hard and played hard. Every Christmas she threw lavish parties (with whatever she could afford) and she loved a good argument/debate....with debt collectors on the challenges of   single parenthood.   One of the most shocking things she did for a woman of her time is that she smoked and the odd profanity was never far from her lips....Granny did not suffer fools gladly! She was a tough cookie when she had to be. Bereft of a husband she had to fight her own corner and she was both feared and admired. Her vivacity attracted many a roving eye and she gave birth to her fourteenth child a few years after my grandfather’s death(!). 

Flex your mental muscles too!

 She was unashamedly unapologetic and  a woman after my own heart. When I'm having a bad day I try to remember that she faced greater hardships and I pay tribute to her stoicism. I never met my grandmother because she died 18 months  before I was born though I carry her middle name her. Nevertheless her legacy lives on through her daughters, grand-daughters and great-granddaughters who are all strong women today. 


Granny was no shrinking violet and she had over 40 grandchildren.  August is the month of her death anniversary and the birth month of my second son who, I hope, will be inspired by her example of grace and courage under fire. 

Since I took the step towards singledom and sole parenting I feel an inherent power surge (no doubt passed down from Granny). I did not experience this when I was part of a couple though inwardly I had a sense that I was not living up to my full potential. Despite less than perfect circumstances and a difficult family model to organise and nurture; single parenthood has introduced me to the brave new world of power and confidence.

Kissing a prince is no guarantee  of a fairy-tale ending

During my sojourn through domesticdom, I endured a barrage of mental abuse that nearly destroyed me until I decided, one fine day, to save myself.  I released the super-hero within and my mission is now to save as many people possible -  from themselves. To all you would be super-heroes out there I say your day will come and you will seize it. I wish you courage on this journey which is no picnic but may turn out to be feast. Never doubt the hero inside yourself!

Womanhood is truly formidable but only if we tap into it and celebrate the exclusivity of this state. Very often we allow ourselves to get beaten down and trampled upon with our self-esteem in shreds at the hands of men. Men and money have truly been our downfall as we have invited control from both when we should have been taking charge and care of ourselves.

Single-handed victory

Single parenting is not for wimps and makes super-heroes of those who are committed to it. It's a challenging and awe-inspiring journey to nurture young hearts and minds. What we teach as mothers will stay with them all their life. The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world but only..... when a super-hero is at the helm. 


Single parenthood is a privilege since it gives you the advantage of the bigger picture. When you’re both mother and father it makes you aware of the subtle pressures and pleasures parenting places on the individual. It is about letting the softness shine through the strength. Your shoulders become broader and your heart deepens. I am thankful for the journey I’m on. 

Heroic parenting

My children feel my daily strength since I found the hero inside myself. When there’s strength there’s love and where’s there’s a super-hero....... all’s well with the world.

Fool's Paradise

Surgical toy

A fool and his age are never contented. That’s a truism about the search for eternal youth and why so many people resort to going under the knife. Cheek, brow and jaw lifts are becoming more popular amongst the middle youth – (that’s new age speak for anyone between the ages of 40 – 55).

The pursuit of youth has long been a human pre-occupation and there are no end of skin rejuvenators, brighteners (frighteners!) and serums to stave off those wrinkles. Ageing is not a crime and neither is self improvement.  Beauty only becomes a beast if you allow it to devour your self-esteem to the point where surgical intervention is necessary to boost your image.

A surgeon cannot provide you with charisma, allure, magnetism, charm, electric intellect,  savoire-faire and that certain “Je ne sais quoi”. People take the surgical route in the hope that they’ll have more of the very qualities that money alone can’t buy.  No doubt, physical enhancements may provide a catalyst for attracting the opposite sex but it’s a false friend. If you don’t have the personality to back up your good looks then the object of your desire will soon get bored (unless they’re just as superficial).

It’s amazing how some of the truly beautiful (facially gifted) believe themselves to be imperfect whilst the more facially challenged (ugly) seem to think that they’re quite flawless. By a strange reversal of fortune, beautiful people are insecure about their looks whereas the less beautiful are positively narcisstic.

Pure and lovely

It’s a shame that people are gullible and surgeons so manipulative. Before they start altering your body they must fool your mind into believing that they hold the key to your happiness. Happiness being a new face and body.  Your body is an investment but one that entails maintaining it in a healthful and holistic sense. 

The growing trend of cosmetic surgery is worrying and even damaging. A surgeon is a slick salesperson who lines his pockets as he carves you up.  Looking good is about feeling good and vice versa. The feeling comes first not the look. The soul is the most beautiful of all and thankfully it’s one small part of us that a surgeon can’t touch. The paradise of golden youth is within.

Keep your heart young and you will have control over your ageing. Nature is effortless  and needs no fripperies….would you spray paint a rose?

If you still don’t believe you’re naturally beautiful then here’s some reverse psychology – surround yourself with people uglier than you then you’ll always feel beautiful!

What a feeling!