V-Day-D-Day (Part 2)


That’s right…V-Day-D-Day got worse yesterday AFTER I published my new post so here I am making an additional one. In all honesty, this guy deserves a separate post anyway, so well done him!

Firstly, let me provide you with some humour as to why some of my previous Valentine’s are ‘special’ in a not-so-special-way:

  • 2013 – I was surprised when we arrived at the restaurant with a triple date with people I really didn’t like.
  • 2014 – A friend was visiting for the week and instead of sleeping next door I found him in my bed and he harassed me.
  • 2015-  A date was kidnapped by his sports team right when I was due to meet him – story was never verified but I’m happy to award points for originality here.
  • 2016 – I was in a relationship where the guy didn’t do anything, where I felt more single than had I actually been alone.

And 2o17?!?! Drum roll please my lovelies!

So, I basically got dumped by a best friend yesterday but remember that guy who hurt me? (I refer to posts such as Shit Happens, A Beautiful Contradiction, Raw)…he damn well text me. It’s sort of ironic considering there was a hint of him in my mind when I wrote V-Day-D-Day (part 1) about boys lying to me.

My heart sank when his name flashed up on my phone. I actually panicked a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I do miss the fun we had. But this guy hurt me. When we were ‘dating’ he continually asked me to trust him. He wanted me to think he was genuine. He seemed to care whether I had eaten or not. He asked about my past and the future I wanted. I met a couple of his friends and he met mine.

And so I opened up that heart of mine. Just a little bit. I spent so long with my heart in a cage but I let my heart open up to the idea of something more.

The idea of being with him.

I tried to keep my heart shut but friends convinced me that he liked me. He was doing things that were more than sex. We had sober dates, romantic dates and of course we had drunken dates.

For the first time in forever, I thought someone liked me. And I let myself like that person back.

I let myself become vulnerable because I thought he was worth it.

But then one evening he ripped the band-aid off.

Let’s be honest this has been completely platonic. I thought after ten weeks I would have developed feelings but I haven’t. There’s never been any sort of spark between us. I want to fall in love with my best friend and you’re not that. We should end this. 

Completely platonic. 

Never been a spark. 

You’re not that.

The Demon was incredibly cruel to me following that. It told me I was stupid to think he liked me, that I was wrong to open up when he asked me to, that I was weak for revealing my vulnerability, that I’m only good for sex and not worth anything else. It told me I was ugly and fat and had I never told him about my ED he would have liked me.

It told me lies. Just like he told me lies.

I’ve written before that I don’t want him back but that hopeless romantic in me thought what if he wants to apologise? What if he wants to make up for what he did? I’ll never sleep with him but could we be amicable?


So I truly was just sex to him for almost 3 months and last night showed he has no respect for me whatsoever. To think he could even consider trying to do this to me.

That’s what stabbed my heart last night. That’s what broke me a little bit more. Any consolation that perhaps I was a touch more than sex, gone.

I live my life by what I call the three-C’s. Stay Classy, never Chase a boy and never Crawl back. He dumped me and I never begged him to change his mind. I strongly remember holding my head high through the tears and walking out of that bar leaving him to settle the bill. I proudly remember refusing to reply to his text following that evening.

(Well done NYE-Drunk Len…you did us proud ❤ )

I’ve slowly been moving on and you think you can play on the fact you know I had feelings for you? You think I’m the type of girl to wait and hope for you to like me back?

Well, you’re a dick and I don’t want you back.

It’s your loss [insert name here]

You chose to lose me and now there’s definitely no prospect of anything ever happening again. He apologised after I replied. I bet he didn’t think I’d turn him down…I bet he thought I’d go running…but that shows how cruel he is.

How cruel some men are to play with our feelings, to pick up and drop our fragile hearts without a care in the world.

You clearly still think about me. You clearly still want me, even if it’s to sleep with me. You clearly had some level of ‘spark’ if you actually had the balls to text me to try get me.

But.You. Can’t. Have. Me. 

I was crying before but now I’m smiling.

And you know what, my lovelies? That means I’ve won.

He chose to lose me.

But I chose to respect myself and the value of my body and my soul.

I chose me ❤

And just look at what he can’t ‘tap’ anymore….


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A Beautiful Ticker


The thing with broken clocks is that you can tell exactly when they stopped ticking.
With people it isn’t so easy. Sometimes you can’t even tell they’re broken.

I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s broken but it’s definitely been hurt. It’s been picked up and carelessly shattered into pieces a few times but it’s still there. It’s still ticking, beating away to the sound of my consistently crazy life.

Going back to Law School meant that whilst the gossip had spread, most people hadn’t gotten to speak to the actual source: me. I don’t blame them but it took a lot out of me having to tell close friends what had happened yet again. It was draining to go through the evening over and over again: his words, his actions, my feelings.

Just like last year, my exams had been the perfect distraction. However, the post-exam come-down made me realise that I was still hurting. Not over the boy but, rather, his actions. I don’t need nor want a liar in my life but the situation just echoed my past. No, it didn’t echo it, it amplified it. The contradiction of words and actions was one of the cruelest things I have ever experienced.

I still don’t believe he meant to hurt me so bad but that doesn’t exactly make it hurt any less. I don’t need people to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. That sometimes things don’t work. That I’m fine just the way I am. I do know that and I’m still that optimistic girl full of hope that one day, someone perfect for her will think she is perfect for him.

Nevertheless, my confidence has taken a massive hit. My focal point of happiness has shifted back to weight loss and I need to pull myself up and climb over this rocky patch and remember that there is so much  more to me than a number on a scale.

Everyone needs to take a time out every now and then. Just press pause for a few moments, take a breath and reflect. We have all, at some stage or another in our lives, been presented with challenges that we have either overcome or are still pushing to overcome. We have all experienced darkness and failure. We have all been taken advantage of and let down. We have all been hurt and not once did any of us deserve it but whilst the pain makes our confidence drop, don’t you think that we are actually so much more beautiful for it?

I think so.


Kintsugi is the Japanese art of restoring a broken piece with a lacquer that is mixed with gold or silver. This craft is based on understanding the spiritual background and history behind the material and is interwoven with the philosophy of finding beauty in broken things. To appreciate that the piece is far more beautiful for having been broken.

My ticker needs some time to heal right now but it’s going to be more golden than it ever was before and someone who truly deserves it will appreciate the artwork that is this broken heart of mine.


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Hands tense, gripping what they can. Trying to stand tall but everything is crumbling.

Heavier weights to try numb the even heavier pain.

But it’s falling away. It’s being ripped away.

It hurts. Oh it god damn hurts.

The pounding starts. The voices come running. Whispers turn into screams.

Walls back up but still spiralling downwards. One step forward yet five leaps back.

Lift even heavier. Push through the pain. It helps the hurt.

But why does it still hurt?

Tears stinging. Why is it still so raw?

I’ll never see him again but why am I scared that it might happen accidentally?

How did one person take away all my strength? All my confidence? All my self-worth? Why did he have to take it, just to have sex with me for a few months?

I can’t do it right now. I can’t fix myself right now. Somebody please pick me up because I really can’t stand on my own right now. Anyone. Please.

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A Beautiful Contradiction


Let me tell you this. Being told that no feelings had developed, no slight spark after almost 10 weeks of seeing me was potentially one of the most hurtful comments I’ve ever had. Being told that it has all been entirely platonic and being asked to explain why I thought he liked me was a massive kick in the teeth.

I was actually somewhat nice about him in my last post but that’s who I am as a person: I try really hard to see the best in people’s words and actions but the more I think about it, the more I realise that he did mess me around, even if he didn’t mean to. I genuinely don’t believe any objective bystander would tell me I misread his actions and it hurts to feel as though the last 10 weeks were nothing.

That he had no feelings.

It hurts. That’s for sure.

It’s compounded further by the fact I opened up to him. I told him things I would never tell someone I was dating and I have that niggle in my mind that had I not done so he might have liked me. I don’t believe that’s why he ended it but I’m always going to have that doubt that I’m simultaneously too much and not good enough. That I’ve been through so much that I’m damaged goods and not worth anyone’s time.

I’m worth someone’s time though. One day.

But guess who text me at 5am on NYE/New Year’s day?

Okay so it was just a generic ‘Happy New Year x’ text but I do feel kinda of happy that I can 100% tell you I didn’t think of him when I was at this party and yet he thought to send me a text. I mean, yes it was just a generic text he probably sent to all, but he still thought to send me a text me regardless of whether he was drunk or not. My heart jumped and sank a little at the same time when I saw it. Probably because I didn’t expect a text and also because I didn’t hope for him to text me either.

I didn’t reply. I considered it because I wanted to be nice but then I thought, even if he was just trying to be nice, why should I give him the satisfaction of me replying? Most importantly, he hurt me so why should I give him even 10 seconds of my time?

If you couldn’t see how your actions and words hurt me then you really don’t deserve my time.

“Remember that you were art long before he came to admire you, and you’ll continue to be art even when he’s gone”

Mind you, this party I went to? Damn amazing. This fully alcohol-catered-unlimited-free-cocktail-party with a pool (yes, of course I went in!) with lovely people all around me was brilliant. I only knew two people but left with so many friends and most importantly, I went with no expectations and I left with no expectations.

(I also left without my bra, but that’s a story for another day and I promise it’s not sex-related!)

I didn’t go to this party freshly hurt by this guy looking for anyone to make myself feel better. Rebounds never work and one-off rebounds most definitely never work. Jumping straight back in doesn’t allow you to heal.

However, I accidentally met someone.

And I had quite a lovely evening in general.

I had an even more lovely New Year’s Kiss.

And that’s all I’ll say about that because he asked for my number and if I’d see him again but I doubt anything will come of it. However, the fact I don’t care what happens feels even more special right now.

I’m hurt but I’m not crying.
I’m hurt but I’m happy.
I’m on my own but I’m alright with the fact he’s gone.

I feel like a contradiction but I’m a beautiful contradiction at that.


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Shit Happens


I know I did nothing wrong. I know that sometimes you simply aren’t going to be the right person for someone but god, do I feel like a fool. Last night I wished I could say with conviction that it was his loss and yet I couldn’t.

His words have been such a contradiction to his actions and I simply feel like an idiot for thinking he liked me. I do believe he’s a nice, genuine guy and we probably could have been friends if we met in different circumstances. It might not have been his intentions but I feel like a glorified fuck buddy.

9 weeks ago, I removed my links to my blog from my social media, you know?

I was embarrassed. Okay, well maybe not embarrassed about my blog but more so that I was worried about presenting myself as broken. I removed my website from my profiles and stopped sharing links with the corresponding pictures on Twitter and Instagram. I stopped sharing my journey because I was scared of how a boy might accidentally stumble across chapters of my story without me realising.

Some of my previous posts about my recovery have been brutally honest but the hard truths are what help us recover the most. I suppose that whilst I happily share my journey with the world I still have that fear that when I like someone they won’t like the girl who’s been a little bit broken and battered along the way.

I did mention my ED to him but only briefly. However, that took so much strength. Strength I only found because he gave the impression he liked me. That’s what hurts right now. The fact I stupidly opened up to someone who didn’t see anything in me. I feel as though I’ve let my guard down and that I should have known better.

Wish I would stop stumbling across nice guys who accidentally mess me around.

You know what though?

Shit happens.

And I am never deliberately hiding my story ever again.

24 hours later and I genuinely believe I’m over him. The reason why it’s happened so quick? Because I have a group of badass friends who picked up the phone last night and convinced me to go to them. I travelled across the country late at night and spent all of today with them…still in the clothes I wore to our ‘date’ last night!

Thanks to him I’m going to be even more wary of guys than I was when I met him but also thanks to him, I got to see my absolute bestest who I didn’t get to see this Christmas. I got to see the two newborns of the group as well as their amazing mums who are even better best friends to me.

I got to spend the day with my favourite 3 people with endless cups of tea, biscuits and baby cuddles. So much laughter and a few tears were shed about how, once more, I’ve been messed around but there truly weren’t as many tears as I thought there would be.

Right now, less than 24 hours later I can say with conviction…it’s his loss, not mine. 

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I have never seen pretty much everyone at work look so disheartened all week so thank God it’s finally the weekend. Finally time for me to get out of London for a couple of days and just get away from it all. Away from everything. I can’t even put my finger on exactly what I am desperate to get away from but I just have this dull ache inside me that needs to be fixed.

Maybe I was just on a come-down after a packed weekend, maybe I was still in pain from that ruptured cyst, maybe it was that text message, maybe it was this week’s workload, maybe it was nothing but maybe it was everything.

I couldn’t work out why I was feeling a bit meh…but sitting here now on the train has given me plenty of space to think. I feel like I can finally breathe so maybe things were a bit stressful. I haven’t really stopped since I went to Newcastle 5 weeks ago and the past month has admittedly been a bit of a whirlwind.

Something slipped out last night. I said I can’t wait to look after me. Wouldn’t it be nice to look after myself rather than everyone else? 

I don’t know why I said it but I must’ve been thinking it.

A someone I didn’t want to hear from sent a text I didn’t want to receive this week. Basically because they’re feeling lonely right now. No. Just no. You can’t do what you did to me and text me months later. Thinking I will be over the moon for you to text. No. Just no. I’m not quite as whole-hearted as I used to be meaning I won’t feel sorry for you and, therefore, reply. You made sure I’m not that girl anymore. I’m no longer that broken girl and you can’t use me the way you did. Not anymore. Never again.

I don’t want you to text me ever again.

And that was that. But it really knocked me a bit because I’m sick and tired of people trying to pick me up where they left me…where they literally dropped me. No. Just no. I’m tired of people getting in touch when they want something, never just to see how I am. I’m fed up of being used and taken for granted and although I point blank refused to let that person back in my life it still left me feeling rough.

There was a lot of good this week too, definitely ended on a high rather than the low I started on but even then, my brain is still spinning. I keep telling myself to stop falling. I’m trying to hold on so tight to these walls and although they’ve come down I’m still ever so scared. I’m perfectly happy with whatever is happening right now. That’s not the issue. I’m genuinely happy with whatever ‘this’ is but I think my hearts beginning to beat faster.

I’m scared and yet simultaneously feel so very calm about it all. There’s things he says or does that make me think he really likes me but then I’m also not too sure. I’m still a little bit scared of getting hurt again…I thought I wasn’t scared anymore but writing makes me realise I must be.

I’m scared of getting used again. Being taken advantage of. Taken for granted. Made to feel worthless

But I do like him and don’t want to shy away from this one in order to protect myself. I’ve happily taken each day as it comes and I’m going to keep doing that but I still feel vulnerable. I know that I don’t want whatever ‘this’ is to end right now. That doesn’t mean I want things to jump to any other level but I don’t want this feeling to end. That means the ball is in his court so to speak. I know I want to see him again and I think that’s what makes me feel vulnerable, almost like I’m not in control of the situation.


A problem of mine is that I’m whole-hearted. I go full heart or nothing at all. That goes for family, friends, work, everyone. If I care about you, you know and equally if I don’t like you, you know. I will bend over backwards for those I care about and people have taken advantage of that in the past. They’ve abused the fact I care with the whole of my heart and they’ve crushed it without thinking twice.

But I can’t let my past define my future.

I’m very happy with my life right now. I am so incredibly scared at the same time but a little bit of fear keeps you on your toes. I’ve shown this week I am prepared to cut out the deadwood in my life and ultimately, those who want to stay in my life will make the effort and I’ve learnt who deserves my effort in return.

I’ve learnt the hard way which people deserve this whole heart of mine but that simply means I love all those people twice as hard.


Having a bestest visit this week was genuinely needed ❤

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The World Looks Brighter From Behind a Smile


You’re never fully dressed without a smile

3 years into my recovery. 6 years since the Demon appeared. There’s days I have that negative niggle in the back of my mind, the one that whispers things like I’m not good enough, I need to lose weight, everything will be better once I’m lighter. But those days are becoming more and more spread out and sometimes all it takes is for me to sit down, relax and just think of how far I have come.

To try focus on the positives rather than the negatives.

Someone told me the other week that they find it refreshing that I’m really nice and optimistic or something along those lines. I can’t quite remember their words but I remember thinking, don’t be silly. However, when I got home I remember sitting and just thinking about what they said, how I genuinely thought they were being honest and how, throughout everything, I’ve always stayed so optimistic.

So much has happened over the years but yet…I’m still this crazily happy, loveable, optimistic girl. I’m well aware I’m not everyone’s cup of tea but after all this time I’m still smiling.

Always happy. Always smiling.

I’ve been beaten down and broken time and time again. Every time I start to trust someone not to hurt me they go and crush me even harder and yet, I still get back up. I still have this heart full of love for my friends and family and all those in between.

I’ve actually told him. I don’t know how it came up but it did. I think he was asking about my rings and my tattoo and I think he knew there was something I wasn’t telling him. Something I was scared to tell him. I was scared because I didn’t want him to look at me differently, I didn’t want him to see some ‘broken mess’. I wanted him to still like me or, better yet, like me in the first place, and I had this fear that if he found out, he wouldn’t.

Sometimes I don’t mind being wrong.

It was very brief, I just mentioned how in sport, they pressured me to lose weight and so I did…just not healthily. I stopped eating and then developed bulimia to cope with trying to eat again. I didn’t think I was going to tell him. Not so soon. Not until I was sure he liked me. Who am I kidding? I had no idea when I was going to tell him. But I did. I remember apologising for telling him and he said I had nothing to be sorry for and to never apologise.

And I smiled. Always smiling.

After all this time, I do still panic about how people will look at me or treat me. I don’t want to be perceived as ‘damaged’ or ‘mental’ but I know that I won’t be perceived that way simply because I’m not.

I’m not a broken mess because I genuinely am one of the happiest people I know. I’m always smiling and looking for the positives. I see the best in people rather than the worst. Always giving people a chance and trying to be kind to others. Always putting my friends first and making other people happy because that’s what makes me happy. I can’t be perceived as damaged goods, not when I try to be a beautiful person. Not when I actually am a beautiful person. We’ve all got baggage, we’ve all got history and I shouldn’t worry how people perceive me because once they find out, they simply see the happy smiling girl who just so happens to have coped with shit.

Who just so happens to have gotten through it.

But still smiling. Always smiling.

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