Mother Nature’s Solo

The woodpecker takes the role of percussion,

the bubbling brook,

the coo of a distant bird.

The melodic sound of the wind blowing through the trees,

the delicate crunch of leaves under the hoof of a passing deer,

the gentle humming of a bumble bee.

As the sun wakes upand sings her morning song.

The world is an orchestra,

building to a crescendo,

conducted by Mother Nature.

And you are the audience,

giving it the standing ovation it deserves.


For the past few weeks, I have been attending therapy on campus, every Friday at 14:00 after work with Winnie. I was very nervous before attending, as I have a fear that people won’t believe my mental illnesses, or take them seriously. I did what I usually do: obsessively research what to expect from your first therapy session every night until 3am, and talk aloud to myself for hours; planning what I am going to say.

I see this as being well-prepared, but others have pointed out that these actions are verging on the neurotic.

My first therapy session was better than I could ever had expected. Winnie is really nice, and asked me questions I had never even considered (which is probably good since I could not prepare, and so my answers were more spontaneous and authentic).

The sessions all compiled of mini breakthroughs, and Winnie pointing out several patterns in my thinking and behaviour. It’s nice to see that my mental health issues are not completely random, rather follow a common theme. It makes me feel less out of control and paranoid, and I can now better recognise when I may be in a situation where I may feel anxious.

The most interesting thing to come from my sessions is the alternative diagnosis that Winnie unofficially gave me.

Winnie thinks that I was misdiagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder (GAD), and instead suffer from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD).

I would be lying if I said that this diagnosis did not come as a surprise. I always thought of OCD suffers being people who are incessantly clean, particular, and washed their hands non-stop. My mum will be the first person to tell you that I have never been the tidiest person in the world; although I make a more conscious effort to keep things orderly.

It turns out that OCD is a little more complicated than hand-washing and turning the lights on and off 20 times.

DSM 5 classifies OCD as:

OCD is characterised by the presence of obsessions and/or compulsions. Obsessions are recurrent and persistent thoughts, urges, or images that are experienced as intrusive and unwanted, whereas compulsions are repetitive behaviors or mental acts that an individual feels driven to perform in response to an obsession or according to rules that must be applied rigidly.

The word “rule” sticks out to me because, as Winnie pointed out to me, I create my own bizarre rules. These rules give me comfort and a sense of order.

It would be hard to explain these rules to you, especially as a lot of them 1) barely make sense to me and 2) they work more in context. But a few include:

  • assigning particular items to particular people (ie. when making tea for people, I mentally assign mugs to each person, and get agitated if they do not adhere to which one they have been set)
  • clenching muscles equally on both sides of my body (if my right armpit twitches, I have to make my left armpit do the same or it feels uncomfortable)
  • stressing myself out because I am convinced I have to do a task or I will get in trouble (despite no one ever telling me to do these things or threatening me)

As you can see, my compulsions are fairly small and easy to miss, so this is why I appreciate being able to take advantage of the free therapy services that my university offers.

I don’y know much about OCD, and as I learn more about the disorder and more about myself then I will update you!

Love from Evie x

Fair Maiden

One man’s ruins is another man’s castle.

Turrets, four; guarding against an enemy unknown.

Up the tight corkscrew staircase

Uneven and crumbling,

lit only by the moon through slit windows.

There she is found.

Fair maiden, damsel in distress.

Yet, her sword tongue cuts through your shield.

Her eyes impale, with a glare that says,

“You can not save me.”

For the dragon to be slain,

lives inside the princess.

Sweet Nothings

Much a sweet nothings exchanged from lip to ear and lip to ear.

A shout into the void will receive a reply, my love, I promise you this.

The moon is our moon, the sun belongs to us.

The reason for the universe is simply for us to be.


Go to your happy place

“Go to your happy place”

lying on a beach in a far away country

with the sun holding you as you drift to sleep,

the gentle breaking of waves singing you a lullaby again again again,

icing sugar sand is your pillow; soft and warm it relaxes you as you let it run through your fingers

but i much prefer the sharp pain of winter on my nose,

artificial warmth from a woollen blanket,

holding my favourite mug with both hands and allowing it to scald my palms,

hard rain incessantly tapping on my window, like they’re canon fodder for a machine gun

familiar shivers running through my body, rocking me like a baby

This is my happy place

Do Blondes Have More Fun? A (not very) scientific enquiry

At the end of 2018/start of 2019 I made the decision that everyone who runs away from their problems decides: I’m doing to drastically change my hair. “Yeah, changing my hair will change everything. Changing my hair will make it all better.”

At first, I wanted more of a warm subtle blonde. But, as many blondies will know, once you bleach you just can’t stop. My ultimate goal is now a Daenerys Targaryen mother-of-dragons and breaker-of-chains kinda lewk.

We all know the common belief that blondes are dumb (well, reader, I was this dumb before I dyed my hair so HA! The joke is on you.)

But the other famous stereotype is that blondes have more fun.

But what does this mean? Does it hold any bearing? Is bleaching your hair within an inch of its life the secret to happiness?

Well, I did a bit of digging.

A study (yes it’s from the Daily Mail but it still counts) suggest that 3/4 of women who dye their hair blonde feel immediately more sexy and glamorous. Blonde has always been the hair colour associated with sex icons (think Marilyn Monroe, Jennifer Lawrence, Brigitte Bardot, Grace Kelly and Pamela Anderson). Perhaps this new-found sexiness and feeling of glamour makes women feel happier and like they’re having more fun. So this seems to check out.

Studies have also shown that over 1/3 men seem to prefer blondes to any other hair colour, so perhaps more male attention = more fun? However, of course, it doesn’t matter what men prefer. You do you, girl.

There are, however, a few reasons why blonde may not be as fun. One being that it is higher maintenance, as roots grow through fast and (god forbid) you get brassy hair!

Also, I have noticed people have treated me a little different, and not always in the best of ways. I get the vibe that people who have only met me post-blonde assume I am ditsy, whereas when I had brown hair they would read my confusion as… well, just understandable confusion.

I have also noticed a few more men looking at me when I walk down the street. Of course, it’s flattering, but I am aware that my bright hair makes me stand out more and I’m just not used to the attention.

Ever since I dyed my hair, good things have happened. I got a job I really love (being paid to write- Yesss). I have developed some really meaningful and supportive friendships. My mental health has gotten better. Life is good, man.

However, is this because my hair now has no pigmentation? Or is it because I am more confident in myself, and I am the one that has made these things happen.

I feel more confident so I socialise more and, of course, my friendships improve because of that. My confidence also leads to me applying for jobs I would have thought out of my league, and actually managed to get one. Also, my confidence has allowed me to feel ready (and worthy enough) to go and seek the help I need and deserve.

I do have more fun as a blonde, but not because I’m blonde. I have more fun because I have found a way to express myself and find confidence through having great hair!

I would love to hear what you guys think! Do blondes have more fun? Does your hair colour have that much of an impact on your quality of life? Let me know in the comments below!

Love from Evie x