Confessions of a Paranoid Woman

I dream of being *that* person, you know, the person who is comfortable in their own skin, the person who genuinely doesn’t care what other people think of them, the person who accepts themselves just the way they are.

But I am *this* person: I am insecure about pretty much every part of me. It starts as I wake up – in my comforting foetal position, I can feel my little pot belly hang over onto the bed; I’m sure it’s the first thing I am aware of every morning. And it kind of goes from there…

I have bad dark circles under my eyes, I’ve always had them, it’s just the way I am made. You think I would have moved to acceptance at the age of 41, but no, I am paranoid about them; I Continue reading

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For the Love of Japan

Words look more like art than writing, the language sounds almost music like, and the toilets have heated seats and electronic control panels which perform a whole variety of services. It is a faraway land clouded in mystique – a delight for the curious traveller. Continue reading