I wish i could channel the excitement I felt when I first handed in my notice at work. My crazy new boss was doing my head in but the promise of a fresh exciting start made me almost forget that I constantly felt like throwing her out of the window. Trepidation turned into bliss and once I was out of my director’s office the feeling was euphoric, I had finally done it!

Fast forward to today sat in my bed in Accra, I have knots in my stomach and it all feels a bit….well…overwhelming. The fear of failure constantly looms over my head and what felt like the bravest thing I had done in a while is starting to feel like a rushed effort to change the course of my life.

I feel far away from home. Even thinking that makes me feel guilty because I am at home. This is home. I miss my nephews terribly and the day my sister texted me ‘come home’ I cried for hours on end.

The support from my friends and family has been amazing and probably the only reason why I’m firmly holding on the the belief that I too can be successful starting anew, or at least that I can try. I want to be brave because being brave is an amazing thing but I don’t want anything I decide from here on out to feel like failure.

For now I’m throwing myself into new projects, enjoying the warmth of the people around me and basking in that special sunlight that i haven’t properly enjoyed in 13 years. I’m not worried about crying some more, I’m almost not worried about saying that I am unsure about the future. I’m just ready to find home- wherever that is.


Hello lovers, I didn’t think I would stop blogging when I fell in love but alas here I am, giddy and gooey and loved up and lacking inspiration. Sigh.

The last few months have been some of my most productive months even though you wouldn’t have known because some of that productivity didn’t rub off on my blog.

My anxiety reached peak levels and I’ve u’mmed and a’hhd about sharing because, helloooo, peaks and troughs and c’est la vie and the rest of it.

After a few back to back panic attacks and trips to the doctors I am happy to report that all is well, I don’t have a heart condition like I convinced my doctor I did and there’s absolutely no deadly disease swimming in my blood stream, Ya girl was just overwhelmed and not dealing with it as well as she should have. I was high-functioning, going to my 9-5, spending time with family and just ignoring every negative trigger until it caught up with me.

I’ve since decided to really dial into the sort of self-care that allows me to relax guilt free. I’ve also become acutely aware that just because I know what my triggers are doesn’t mean that the journey is done, in fact that’s where the real work begins. Let’s call it Identification and Rectification. Finding out what  the work is and drum roll please……… doing the damn work. It takes motivation to make those types of changes that enhance your life. I’m no longer pushing myself at the gym when I’m beyond exhausted and spending time doing things I simply don’t want to do (I know I know, I say this all the time but I mean it!).

Anyways I just wanted to say that I’m not dying LOL. In fact I appreciate the biological feedback my body gives me. I know that if I don’t deal with issues, the issues will deal with me (I sound like a Ghanaian teacher).

If you go through the motions and put your feelings in a box and throw away the keys, the consequences are rarely pleasant. Sometimes you learn that the hard way and sometimes you stumble on a blog that tells you to listen to your fucking body.


It is okay to look out for numero uno

I’ve navigated the last few weeks with a lot of tension. Foggy nights have given way to even foggier days and general my anxiety has been quite high.

I’ve called myself ‘high-functioning’ many times because I tend to get everything that needs doing done as ‘normal’ and with minimal interruption – well until I attempt to drift off to sleep and then I’m usually plagued with frequent mini but (mostly) manageable panic attacks.

I’m trying to be as honest as possible with myself so I can discern what is causing this flurry of very negative and disruptive feelings. Whilst I’m not coming up empty I can’t quite name and shame the culprit.

I know that my near car collision a few weeks ago hasn’t made sleeping easier. My constant guilt for not having enough energy to pursue my ‘dreams’ and my fear of saying NO to helping friends and family out certainly haven’t helped either.

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I had the pleasure of visiting Paris for the first time this weekend and it was quite the adventure. I traveled 2 hours via the very reliable Eurostar from King’s Cross St. Pancras in London to the Garde du Nord. The hotel was a last minute find but proved to be an absolutely fantastic choice (

From the old style Parisien buildings to the amazing vegan food I cannot wait to go back and see it all again, here are a few pictures!



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self-care, at your big age?

Okay so maybe I’m being a little shady with that title. Everyone needs to practice self-care, often and at any age.

I’ve seen a recent shift as concerns the view of what self-care is and why it’s not all face masks and switching off the tv (both of which are excellent forms of self-care if I do say so myself). I’ve seen this shift which now seems to suggest that self-care should involve deep introspect, accountability and awareness of one’s own toxicity- and I fuck with that- heavily.

When I feel out of control, lacking motivation and simply not on top of my game, it’s nice to take a step back from my problems, unwind, relax and regroup. This sometimes means cancelling a gym session and having a meal with a co-worker I can de-stress with or going home after work to watch a movie. The end result is usually a good result, I’m no longer stressed out and I feel like I’ve put myself before anything else.

Sometimes however, when I feel out of control and simply not on top of life, the answer isn’t a face mask or cancelling all responsibilities to meditate in the park. Some days, self-care means doing the painful work of completing a ‘to-do’ list which I have put off for weeks, having a difficult conversation with a friend or family member or cleaning my bathroom because I know that putting it off causes me anxiety.

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