It has become a tradition to write some sort of motivational piece in the month of my birthday, an ode to the wisdom I had acquired up until that point in my life. I felt that this year I wanted to keep with tradition but decided to do things slightly differently, this year I am closing a chapter. I am saying goodbye to both the greatest and worst year of my life so far, my 30th year on earth.

I was recently reminded by a new friend, of an old friend who was the source of many wise words in my life time and I thought I would start by sharing some of these wise words.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance
you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

The last year of my life has been the most tumultuous, heart breaking, gut wrenching, thought provoking, soul testing and judgmental I have ever endured. In 1 year, starting in October 2014, I said goodbye to my family, friends and my animals; sold everything I owned; packed my life into a box; moved to a new country; became a house guest; started a new job; celebrated my 30th birthday; got a new flat on my own; spent holidays and birthdays alone; made new friends; said goodbye to some; saw the sights; remained stuck indoors; built a home; found a new familiar; cried; laughed; fought and pushed through. I spent 10 months without my husband and more importantly, without my children. We spent thousands of pounds and rands, battled, sacrificed and endured and in the end all with one goal in mind – Successfully move our family to a new continent, despite the challenges.

A year later and we have done it.

We have our small home, with our limited number of possessions. The girls have both started and are really enjoying their new schools. My husband started his new job in recent weeks and we look forward to receiving his first pay check. We have our little feline who completes our family. We have met so many amazing people that we consider friends for life, we have had unwavering support from our friends and our family back in South Africa, we have continuous support from our favourite people here as well.

However, it is easy to fall into a trap where I feel like things are just never reaching the final page of the book. That the anti-climaxes are never ending. That the author is ready to put down the pen. Challenge after challenge, let down after let down, struggle after struggle. It is all too convenient to forget how far we have come and focus on the negative. I realised that in order for these speed bumps to flatten, the end of the chapter has to be written by me. So I choose not to forget the last year, but to file it. Today I make the choice to put one year of battles and mistakes, sadness and loneliness behind me.

In one year I have learned the following:

NO matter what your marriage has endured, there is no greater hurdle than distance.

Yet distance between you and your blood will never overshadow love.

Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.

Yet re-connection is all about learning to be together again. As friends, as partners, as family.

Preparation is key to all things.

Yet no matter how prepared you are, you are never prepared enough for disappointment.

It takes an incredibly strong person to make life changing decisions.

Yet even the strongest person can break.

You are never too old to start again, to try something new.

Yet you can be too young to make those decisions – When you are ready you will know.

Loyalty is a phenomenal trait to possess.

However, always remember that doing what is right for you must trump any loyalties you think you have.

Have faith that things will work out in the end.

But faith could be down to faith in yourself – If you believe in you, everyone else will.

Life is too short – Live. Love. Laugh

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike,
And I know you’ll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

And here we are, almost 1 year spent in the UK. Almost my 31st birthday. October 2015, one year on and I am ready to wave goodbye to the emotional roller-coaster that was 2014/2015. My Hakken-Krak. Rest assured, there are still many great changes to come. Not everything is perfect, nor will it ever be. We have made mistakes, we have learned forgiveness, we have learned how to love and how to hate, how to give and how to be, how to move forward with very little and come home with even less. We have accepted that things were the way they were because that is how they were fated to be, we are greater for it.

The lesson for my 31st birthday…

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)


Excerpts from Dr Seuss’s ‘Oh the places you’ll go’

*** The above quoted text was copyrighted in 1990 .

For anyone looking to purchase this book, if not for any other reason than it is a Dr Seuss book, here is a link to do so.

RIP little victim

Posted: September 4, 2015 in News
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I don’t want to go but what choice do I have? If I stay, I risk losing my freedom amongst everything else that I’ve already lost but care little for. 

I don’t matter anyway, this isn’t about me! If I don’t go, what of my children? Will they grow as orphans? Will they grow as amputees? Will they grow as soldiers? Will they grow at all? If they grow will they be doomed to grow in a place that is not home?

How do I stay knowing that every minute here is one more minute I have put my own flesh and blood in harms way.

I hate the water – I cannot swim. I fear that if I board this boat, I may never get off. I fear that if I don’t, I’ve sentenced my children to death.
I did not ask for this life. They did not ask for this life. What are they fighting for? Why have we run from the only home we have ever known?

I feel all I have is questions and no answers… I have to make a choice. The choice between life and death, only I’m uncertain of which way to go.


Mummy has been crying all day. She keeps looking at me like I’m going away but I’m not, I’m going with her, we are all going together!

It’s an adventure, we are going to have so much fun. We have to play a game to see who can keep quiet the longest – we have played this before and I’m very good at it so I know I’ll be able to keep quiet just like mummy says!

We are going to a fancy place where we can get a new house and have a new life… It’s so exciting. It’s going to be so fun. We can play all day! I just wish mummy wouldn’t cry anymore, I will hold her hand, she won’t drown…


I scrolled through Facebook today to the horrific pictures of dead and swollen children. Children of war, children who have drowned at the hands of the people who loved them most – because the choice they made didn’t end the way they had planned.

We have failed you.

Adults wage war for non sensical reasons and children pay the price, as did you. We cringe at the sight of your earthly body strewn lifeless across social media only because your last images are a sick and painful reminder of everything we as a species have done wrong, a reminder of every way you were wronged. A reminder that your last breath was in vain and in a short while you will be forgotten and the struggle of your people never ending. 

RIP little one… You were taken from a cruel cruel world, think of this as your spiritual blessing.


And so more men, women and children die crossing artificially conceived borders to be with their own species. 


Posted: August 27, 2015 in Random
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It seems like no matter where your turn in this day and age, something controversial is jumping out of your screen. Once upon a time, it used to be (and in some places still is) taboo to discuss sexuality and the origins of being homosexual, bisexual or just plain sexual. Now that most of the intelligently thinking population has gotten past this ‘moral’ hurdle, we are faced with a new unconventional concept… Transgender.

The same way that the world stood against the notion that being homosexual was not a choice but in fact predisposed genetically

Having two young girls myself and being what I like to think is a very open minded person, I have no qualms in explaining to them what the new TLC show called ‘I am Jazz’ is about. I am sure that the same cannot be said for everyone and believe that many will struggle with the concept that a person (and even young child) can identify with one gender when created in the likeness of another. The same way that the world stood against the notion that being homosexual was not a choice but in fact predisposed genetically (an ongoing argument amongst the intolerant).
I believe that as a people (generalisation) we place far too much emphasis on the who, the why, the when. People who are different are boxed and tagged and fitted with a Wikipedia description. If we can’t find an explanation, we shun and judge. And now, here on TV, is a little girl showing off her almost normal little life to the world as a young teenager – her only gripe is that boys find her almost repulsive because she is transgender. Because she has a penis, boys won’t look at her. Because she has a penis, boys don’t want to be gay. Because she has a penis, she must be a freak.

This totally grates my cheese.

Why is it so difficult for people to separate sexuality and gender? Just because a woman was born a man but now identifies as a woman, despite having the male bits and bobs, doesn’t mean she has to like woman because she has a penis or has to like men because now she is a woman. That is irrelevant! The important piece of the picture that is missed here is that she is a person who had the courage to live the life she was born too (Cue Lady Gaga music) and had the ‘balls’ (no pun intended) to come out of the gender closet open to ridicule and scrutiny. The same can be said for a man born a woman who identifies as a man – props to that guy! Applaud these people dammit, they are being who they were made to be – THEMSELVES, no matter what form that is in.
So now it’s time to talk about HER, flavour of the month Caitlyn Jenner. I am so sick and tired of people breaking her down because she is a household name. Because she had some semblance of fame pre transition, she seems to get the brunt of everyone’s judgement and after having watched her series ‘I am Cait’, I’m more in her corner than ever before! Here’s the thing, yes she did have it easier than most financially in terms of becoming a woman. Like most famous women, she can afford fashion stylists and make up artists and hair stylists and expensive clothing and lavish accessories and even surgeries. Does that change the severity of her transition? Not at all?! How can the nay sayers not see that being in the public eye was a major deterrent from speaking out and the fact that she is so engrained in the Kardashian empire made her transition all the more difficult. I don’t think it’s fair to belittle her experience – it is still a profound undertaking not be laughed at and fortunately for her she had the means to do it. Does it take strength? Absolutely. Is she as courageous as the next transgender person? Hell yes. The fact that so many sofa psychologists sit at home judging the manner in which she came out or the reason for it, is a perfect example of the inability to accept that someone did something because it was right for them and not right for everyone else. I have been watching her reality series and her struggles are real, but more importantly her struggles are her own and she has chosen to share them with the world. The show is also full of transitioning or transitioned transgender people, men and women, each with a story to tell – some stories sadder than others. It sickens me that the human race can be so cruel and unkind to that which they do not know and I will refuse to raise my children to be so closed minded.

Having a penis does not make you a man. Giving birth does not make you a woman.

The reality is that we exist in an ever changing, ever developing world. What was the ‘norm’ fifty years ago is no longer. I do not need to be a sailor to have tattoos. I do not need to be a goth to dye my hair black. Having a penis does not make you a man. Giving birth does not make you a woman. Society has no right to dictate what is best for my children and so either of them may turn around to me at any time to tell me that she is a man trapped in a woman’s body – that is not grounds for ridicule. I am not a perfect parent but the perfectly parent way is to accept my children for who they are…

And if we accept our children as they are, why is that we cannot be so acceptable of others??

It’s funny. We started this journey in October 2014 and despite knowing just how difficult it was going to be, we could never have anticipated a separation that lasted this long and lives that would be affected this greatly, but here we are! I have been in the UK 280 days today (Over 9 calendar months) and finally the visa saga is drawing to a close.

I think that even though we have struggled (And I am sure you have all noted our intense struggle), we should not be underestimated. Yes, we knew that this was going to be a crazy ride, I knew that I would be lonely and we knew that this would take a toll on everyone involved – The point of the story is that we reached the goal in the end, despite all the challenges we faced. We did it! (Well almost).

On the 22nd of July 2015, after daily check-ups with and at Teleperformance and hounding and annoying as many people as humanly possible, my husband finally collected his visa. Exactly 11 weeks after submission, he has a settlement visa in hand and we can now move forward with our lives. So what was the first thing we did you asked? Most certainly breathed a mutual, continent separated, sigh of relief. It was surreal. I spent the day in a somewhat shocked daze, walking around in disbelief and taking in the realisation that finally my family would be joining me and the new battles of life in another country for them begin. Shortly after the sigh of relief, we paid for the air tickets and made it official. My husband and my beautiful children will arrive in the UK on Thursday the 30th of July 2015! And the countdown couldn’t possibly go any slower.

I really cannot explain the elation that we are feeling. It is a mixed bag of emotions… On the one hand, we are finally getting what we set out to do all of those months ago but on the other, it is the end of an era. The end of a limbo in which we have been living for what feels like a lifetime. Will I remember how to be a wife? Can I go back to being a good mother? Will I remember how to share a home with 3 other people when I have been on my own for so long? There are nerves, anxiety, disbelief, happiness, sadness, anticipation and excitement. It feels like I am getting on a plane and leaving South Africa all over again… Only this time, I won’t be alone.

On Wednesday, I put up a picture of the visa across my social media platforms and I could hardly believe the support that we have received. It is overwhelming. It is like each and every one of our friends and family members have walked this long and treacherous road with all of us. Seen our longing, felt our sadness, shared in our frustration and wiped away our tears. Without all of you, no doubt this journey would have been far more harrowing. To all of those who have cared enough to be a part of this, we thank you – Those that I have met and those that I haven’t. Thank you for your messages, your likes, your comments, your shares and overall just thank you for supporting us from afar.

This looks a little like an Oscars speech but it isn’t really, I just feel it necessary and important to thank everyone involved! Like my crazy ‘landlord and lady’ who in the time I have moved here, wiped my face, held me as I cried, watched me suffer, helped me move, accepted numerous Argos deliveries, drank with me, fed me, showed me the ropes and then decided to have a baby –Without these two taking the plunge, I would never have had the guts to do it myself. And my mother, who if she had not so graciously opened her home to my husband and children, we would be in a far different situation – Thanks Mom and Ken for housing my little family for 9 MONTHS (What we hoped would be 3-4), you are almost an empty nest… finally!

And of course… the strongest man in the world. My husband.

I do not know many men (if any) who would watch their wives move halfway across the world without them to brave a foreign country alone. Giving up all freedom to move in with his in laws, to parent two children (One of which is not his blood relation), to financially support himself and the girls while continuing to fund his visa costs and every now and again a guitar and some eBay shopping for me. To tirelessly and relentlessly push on through delay after delay. To calm his psychotic wife when she was having a lonely episode and to listen when I felt like our worlds were falling apart at my doing. To buy me flowers when I didn’t get the house I wanted or send me a Lindy Bop dress in the wrong size (Oops). He has held my hand through the bad times but held my heart through the worst and I could not thank him enough for being this man because without him at my side, I never would have had the courage to shift my life back to the country in which I was born. I am so grateful that he continues to remind me every day that despite everything we have already conquered and all the hardships that our marriage has faced, we are soul mates and stronger for it. We are not perfect. We make mistakes. We falter. But now we are in a place that our marriage and our family can be proud of – We achieved what we set out to do and in only a few days we would have successfully moved our family across continents! No one could be more proud of us than me.

I missed my 30th birthday with my family, my husband’s birthday, Christmas, Hayley’s birthday, Mother’s day (In the UK), Easter, Mother’s day (In SA), Father’s Day, Dakota’s birthday and soon our 3 year wedding anniversary among many other things (Including the birth of my nephew) – But for all I have missed, we are about to gain so much more…

And NOW the work begins.

Schools are on holiday so we have a few weeks to get the girls placements in school – Hayley will be going into Year 5 (Bumping up and missing out on the last half of Grade 4) in September and Dakota into Reception year (Like Grade R). We already have some hopeful waitlists and I am working tirelessly with the admissions team to get them where we want them to be – This, no doubt, will be sorted sometime during August.

J-P has his second interview set up for what sounds like a really good job which will see him starting work very soon (A place they have been holding for him since a Skype interview in June).

And then in 2 and a half years time, we go through this whole visa process all over again – BUT AT LEAST THIS TIME, we will not be separated and it will be the final one before the ILR and citizenship.

So there we go… no more miserable visa posts and moaning blogs about the settlement process. We made it this far and the next blogs I write will once again start including my girls and our lives and the adjustments we have made. Thank you again to everyone who has followed and supported us… It would never have been possible without you.




Heart break means strength. We have no choice but to be strong when we have nothing else and so we wear our shells for all to see. You cannot hurt us, your words cannot destroy us. We are strong, We are independent and need for nothing or no one. The walls are raised, the limitations set and the expectations removed, for without expectations there can be no disappointment. We become hard, we are unfeeling. We think that we must appear indestructible and then we cannot be broken. If no one will see the cracks, we allow no one to force them open. We care for nothing on the outside, show no emotion. Appear solid and cold, no doors to be opened for those around us. We walk around as smiling zombies, no trace of humanity, nor a hint of emotion.

We think that we must appear indestructible and then we cannot be broken.


And then… someone comes along and everything we thought we needed to do to keep everyone out is the very thing we need to stop doing to allow one person in. We know what is good for us but we choose to ignore it, we attempt to keep up the façade. We think that if you don’t see us, you will never know that in the deep dark recesses of the stone mind, the human lingers. We rage a war within ourselves, the ever problematic head versus heart. We weigh up the consequences, wager the odds. Spend hours saying the right things and yet acting out something else entirely. We remain guarded, shielded. We think that if we pretend that we are still that statue with facial expressions, people will not see through the curtain. We are extra careful, making sure the little things aren’t there to give us away.

But in time we realise we are human and cannot keep this up after all, we cave. We crack. We give into our raw human interiors and realise everything that everyone assumed we held together has fallen down. In a wave of passionate release, we reveal our true selves. We drop the walls, we open the doors and the tear duct flood gates empty. Overwrought with all that has been held inside for oh so long, we crumble. We break down in the hopes that that someone who came along, will be willing to pick us back up again…

But they don’t. They realised they wanted us for who we were as unfeeling, uncaring, ‘strong’ people. They decide that the weakness is too much, and the emotion is too strong. They decide that what they thought they wanted to see, they didn’t. They asked for truth, they asked for explanation, when they received what they asked for they chose to ignore it because they are weak.

They do not know for what they ask.

And so the cycle continues, we go back to being statues. We go back to being guarded at the realisation that they cannot handle who we are. They do not know for what they ask. They cannot be blamed though, for we should have known better, we should have known that the reason they could not handle us was not in fact because they were weak. It is because they too were statues, we were only further along in stony progression.

And what did we learn? Was it better to have allowed the ice to thaw or should we have remained entombed in our own form of protection. As the saying goes, it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Those that cannot handle your life force, don’t deserve presence in your life at all.

beautiful-ice-sculptures-207 image315

Be you. Be Ice. Be Fire.

Just be.

I want

Posted: July 10, 2015 in Writings
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I want. The most under used and over used statement in the English language.

As a child, roaming the aisles of a crowded super market, your eyes catch all the fancies it has to offer. You peruse the ‘sweetie’ shelves trying to decide which chocolate it is you would like and then you call out to your mum or dad in the neediest possible tone… “Muuuuuuummmmm, I want this!” She scolds you for whining and promptly refuses, after all, you are at the corner store for only a pint of milk. Grossly disheartened you try again in the hopes that this time she will acknowledge and deliver on your request… “But mummmmmm, I want it” and before the words have cooled off of your tongue, she speedily backhands your arse. In her most disciplinary tone she turns to you and at the top of her maternal voice shouts “I want DOESN’T get” leaving you in tears, sans the chocolate with a red faced woman pulling your arm to remove you from the store – After all, she is the embarrassed one.

And there it begins, we are engrained with the ‘I want, doesn’t get’ mantra. We learn to stop asking because we no longer enjoy the disappointment. We learn in time that if we truly want something, we can rely on no one else but ourselves to go out and get it. We learn that we do not actually know what we want and so spend hours searching for a brand of vacuum cleaner we like or a washing powder that is practical. We forget that we wanted to do something meaningful with our lives and instead ended up doing something sensible. We spent a childhood WANTING and being told we could not have, only to grow up as adults who know longer know how to get what we want. That is, if we have been smart enough to figure it out at all.

Now you are with friends, a partner or family and you decide that no one feels like cooking tonight. The question is put out there “What do you want for dinner?” You can’t answer. The truth is you do not know what you want and because your sub conscious has been trained not to know, you spend 45 minutes perusing the take out menu only to decide that a trip to Tesco’s for a loaf of bread would probably be the cheaper, more practical option, though no one else agrees. Deep down, you knew you wanted a pizza but because everyone else wanted fried chicken it was probably the safest option. So you give in, you concede to the majority because that is the easier way, to give in to what everyone else wants to save you the hassle of making a final decision only to have it challenged.

We have become a nation of drones. We either know what we want but are too afraid to say it… or we don’t have a clue what we want and so we ‘go with the flow’. We never give definite answers, women have memes created about them and we spend our lives miserable and unsatisfied because we were too indoctrinated to speak up. We pose questions for which the responses are vague. We answer questions with questions. If something is asked of us we respond with words such as maybe, possibly, we could, we can, I don’t mind, why not. We have become afraid of saying I WANT. We fear judgement and so we have forgotten what it is to speak up. We fear ourselves and so we have forgotten what it is to live. We fear that knowing what it is we want will be the destruction of thinking what it is we need. We live responsibly – Working in jobs that are safe, driving cars that are practical, eating foods because we should, being agreeable because it is expected.

I ask people daily… What do you WANT to do with your life and never do I receive a response that is selfish. You would imagine that this is a good thing, right? No. If I ask a mum of two what she wants for her future, she may say that if her children are happy then she is happy. Sounds legit. Well it’s a load of crap because that same mum actually wanted to be a pilot and travel the world but she didn’t and now she won’t because she fears that it won’t relate to what other people or her children want. So she forgets what she wants and when asked the question, she cannot answer, she cannot disappoint herself.

Well I say fuck that.

It is about time that we stopped being sheep. It is about time that we learn to stand up and shout from the roof tops what it is we want. Why is it so difficult for adults to just open their mouths and let their desires out without fearing rejection, judgement, disappointment and ridicule? When did it become ok to just DO because it’s the right thing instead of LIVE because you have desires to fulfil?

If I asked you what you wanted, could you answer? Could you release your deepest desires and be wholly truthful without fearing your own response? I am not talking generic answers, being happy isn’t a WANT – It is a state of mind. I am talking specifics. I am talking honesty. I am talking raw, heartfelt cravings for yourself and for your life.

I am not saying you have to have it all figured out but by Gods, at least try! At least be grown up enough to speak what you think instead of censor yourself for public viewing, If you want something say so! In the same breath, if you don’t want something, say it as well.

Our parents may have said ‘I want doesn’t get’ to us many times, but they also said something else. They said ‘If you don’t ask, you don’t get.’ Perhaps we should’ve listened a little more to that one instead.

Next time someone asks you what it is you want for dinner, just tell them you wanted the pizza. Maybe finally you’ll get something you want.

The opposite of happiness is not to be unhappy, I have learned that instead it is too be lonely. Alone and lonely.

It is an interesting thing to learn that something you thought to be true your whole life actually turned out to be a load of rubbish. In my case, I believed that I disliked people so much that the only thing I ever wanted to be was on my own. I spent a lifetime trying to get some ‘me’ time, cherishing the rare moments I had alone on the way to work or in the bath. A few months after arriving in the UK, I was alone. I had my own place and the thought of finally living on my own was an exciting one – Not to say I was not deeply disturbed by being separated from my family but the luxury of my own space is one I have never been easily afforded.

The thing is… after a few months of being alone, it grew lonely. I left my closest friends and family in South Africa and I have not found it easy to make new ones, not because I am an ogre to get along with but because financial constraints mean I don’t get to go out or leave the house with an audience very often. I don’t get along well with everyone and in fact most people just do not appeal to me… I am happy with the few close friends I have made and have, I am not really interested in adding to the friends list for the sake of it so I will continue to be fussy in the social aspect of things.

After a little while of being lonely I decided to get Bella – It took me months to find her, hours to bond with her and mere weeks for me to lose her again. She was the one piece of happiness I have had in a long time and today that was taken away from me (through my own fault) along with the chance of seeing my children any time soon.

So am I unhappy? No. I am absolutely, unequivocally lonely. I have never felt more alone in my entire life and the mere thought of spending time stuck at home by myself brings random and infinite tears to my eyes. I feel like I am being suffocated, like every breath I take clutches my insides on the way down and it hurts. I feel like I am drowning, that when I open my eyes all I can see is the eerie black of nothingness. As someone who used to get a full 8 hours or more of sleep a night, I now get only 4 or 5. I hate the thought of going to bed, not because I do not want to enter the lonely dream state I have come to accept but because sleep means the dawning of another day of being alone. Another day on my own. Another day to fake a smile to the world and pretend everything will be ok. Another day to feign strength, to try not to be clingy or needy, to not admit that I am human and every day that passes is another scratch into my bleeding soul.  Waves and waves of grey hit me every minute of every day. I am lost and I am no longer running.

I have spent 8 months and 8 days feeling this way.

A lifetime of needing alone time has culminated in me never wanting to be alone again.

I am not afraid to openly admit that I have failed myself. That I am weak, that I need people. That I cannot sustain this hermit life much longer and that being glued to my phone is not the answer.

How I long for a soul that will not leave me… like my Bella did and like souls before her.

I ache for the day I come home to noise. To voices.

I yearn to come home and take just 5 minutes longer in the bathroom because that is the only alone time that I have.

I crave human interaction that exists outside of virtuality where words are said because they are meant and not because they are obligatory.

One day… people will look at me without pity, without sympathy and without wonder at what I am doing and have done.

One day.