'Just because you know something is going to happen, it doesn't make it any easier when it does' is something that I have said many times before, and I'm certainly feeling the repercussions of it now. No matter how prepared you feel for the inevitable, it doesn't mean that there is even slightly less of an impact when it happens. Days turn into weeks, weeks into months and soon it's like you're urging it to just happen so you don't have to live in fear any longer - no matter how selfish, and messed up that may seem. All I've been thinking of recently is about this time last year, and I can't seem to escape from it ... no matter how hard I try.

For most of 2016, all my family and I seemed to receive was increasingly bad news. At each point I would think, 'This is it, it simply can't get any worse than this" and I would be proven wrong again and again. Whenever I think about those times, I feel the exact same feelings as though they happened yesterday, yet they also feel like a lifetime ago. Sometimes I'm convinced that it's all just a bad dream, that I'll wake up tomorrow and none of this will be real. Yet, every single day I am faced with the horror that this is real; and I'm going to have to spend the rest of my life getting used to that.

I sit here alone, and there's so many things that I wish I could've said or done differently, and whilst I know that they wouldn't have made any difference, I'm still faced with the overwhelming guilt that they could have. I still feel like you're here, and every time that anything good or bad happens I have to force myself from running upstairs to your bedroom, because although I expect you still to be sat at your desk or lying on your bed (you were such a lazy bum), I'm faced with the crippling realisation that you won't be.

There's so many things I wish I could say, and it's killing me that I can't. I feel lost, and for some reason I'm imagining that you would be able to figure it all out for me. But that's just an idealisation because I know that even if you were still here, you wouldn't be able to. I shut my eyes, and I can still see your face as clear as day, still hear your voice, your laugh and even the horrendous hiccup sound that you used to do, but then I open them and there's just ... nothing. Emptiness. I curse the times when I would shout at you to 'GET OUT OF MY ROOM' because you used to sing too loud and I would now do anything to hear one song again. I laugh at the times when I would hug you and you would pretend that you hated it and push me away (at least I hope you were joking, anyway).

I'm scared because I've changed, I'm not the same person that I was when you were here and it doesn't feel right. All these things I'm experiencing seem wrong when you're not by my side, and I hope more than anything that you're watching over us. I hope you're proud. I'm craving acceptance from you, but you're not here to give it.

See, when people hear the phrase 'Broken Heart' they are quick to associate it with the idea of two lovers going their separate ways - typically one member of the relationship realising that they infatuation they once felt for their significant other is no longer present. Usually 'broken heart' creates the imagery of going long and painful days without being with the person that made your heart race and your veins feel alive, the person who you truly believed, from the bottom of your naive and vulnerable heart, would be there until the end - whenever that may be.

For me, a 'broken heart' is different to that of an 'ordinary' person.

The first time I felt my heart break was a couple of years ago now. It's news that no one ever expects to hear, the kind of news which changes your life forever - in the instance upon hearing it. It's staring at your other family members across the table, wondering whether you've misheard or if it's some kind of sick joke. It's the feeling of the room going from too shocked to speak, to terrified and heartbroken all in the matter of seconds. It's looking at the person who you've spent your whole life with, who you love more than anything else on Earth, as they watch their family fall apart over the betrayal of their body.

Hospitals, I can't even think about them nowadays. I know all too well the smell of disinfectant, the faces of the nurses as they try to be upbeat and jolly in an environment that nobody ever wants to be in. But here was where I met some of the most inspiring people, the kind of people who you know that you will never forget. The people who offered light in the darkest times, I don't think I could ever begin to thank them. Yet they too feel like a distant memory, as though they're characters in a book that I read a long time ago. Because it still doesn't feel real, even after all this time. I think it's because this time last year, I wasn't living. I was going through each day, uncertain as to whether you'd still be here at the end of it. I tried to be strong for so long, which is why I feel so helpless when I get like this. It's as though I've learnt where the 'off' switch is for my emotions, yet the 'on' switch can just be activated at any time.

In the past couple of years, I've felt heartbreak that no one should ever have to feel and it kills me that other people are experiencing this too. I would do anything to take everyone else's sadness away, yet I can't even control my own. There's so much I want to say, but I don't know how to say it. All I know is that right now, I'm missing you more than I ever imagined. It's been 10 months and I get angry that I still feel this way, but I'm not giving myself enough time. I know I won't get over this, that I just have to learn to live with it - I need the bad days in order to truly appreciate the good ones, and don't get me wrong, there's many of them!

I'm sorry if you found this post uncomfortable and tricky to read, but I don't know how else to let this all out. Writing thoughts down helps me make sense of things, and I feel an indescribable relief when I press 'publish' - as if it all goes away when I do. I hate to think that this post has made you sad, but I wanted to show the reality of loss. People, and I'm guilty of it myself, feel as though there's a time limit on grief, and that they should be over it by a certain point of time. The truth is, it doesn't work like that - I wish it did, I really do.

Because this is reality. I'm not writing this because I want sympathy, I'm writing it because I want people to understand. Grief isn't how the portray it in films, or TV shows where one day you just wake up and you're over it. Grief is breaking down at times when you don't expect to, it's being happy all day and then the thoughts that come out once your head hits the pillow at night. It's wanting to be independent, yet being unable to be in the house by yourself without crying until your eyes are red raw, or flinching every time you meet someone new - wondering when the inevitable 'do you have any siblings' question is about to be asked. I want to write about the good things that happen in my life, but I think it's equally important to write about the bad.

I'll see you next week.

Love,
Grace x

My blog is a space where I write about my thoughts and feelings, in order to make sense of them and to stop them from just being inside of my head. I mainly write about things that are important to me, issues that I feel need addressing and pretty much anything that I deem important. However, there has been something that has bothered me for a while now, yet I have always put off writing about it mainly due to the fact that I didn't know whether or not it was too personal, or too out there to publish. After an incident yesterday, I felt that it was the time to write about this - although I would never regard myself as influential in any way, through my blog I know that I have a voice and a platform to address topics which I see as important and may help people understand the impact that they have on other people.

Whilst I'm terrified to post this, the thought that it may be able to help someone, or even make people stop and think before they make a comment that they may see as 'harmless' yet can have more of an effect than they realise, truly motivates me to write and publish this. So ... here we go.

I was never a 'big' child, aside from the expected 'puppy fat' which I developed during my pre/early teens - which, admittedly, I didn't have much of. I've written before about there being a growing pressure on young girls to look a certain way, and I know that this was something that affected me - I remember crying on multiple occasions about the fact that I had put weight on, and it truly would make me feel horrible. As young girls develop into women (although I think I'm still waiting for that to happen... haha) it's expected that they're going to put on a bit of weight - unfortunately we can't wear kids clothes for the rest of our lives (however hard I may try!) - yet it still came as a huge shock to me when I did.

I remember being in my early teens and having constant hang ups about my body - I used to constantly think about how much weight I wanted to lose, and dream about having a toned stomach and shapely arms. However, although I thought this all the time, I never really did anything about it - mainly due to my love for anything of the chocolate variety, and the fact that I'm not the biggest fan of exercise.

As I grew up, my weight levelled out and I developed a figure which was slightly on the smaller side ('the figure of an 11 year old boy' as people like to point out), and I was now faced with being constantly torn between wanting to stay like that, or to gain a few pounds and be more 'womanly'. Yet due to 1) a fast metabolism, 2) being a vegetarian and 3) not having a tremendously big appetite, this never happened. Over the past year, I have lost weight due to understandable reasons, but was on my way to becoming more accepting towards my body and yes, perhaps the 'lack of' assets that I possess. After the incident yesterday, I came home and clicked 'new post' on my Blogger page, and felt the need to rant, just to let everything out, admittedly to save me from keeping it all in my head and it leading onto a bigger issue.

Here you go;

I'm writing this because I've had enough. At the time that I am currently writing this, I have come home after experiencing a situation where I was made to feel like complete and utter rubbish about myself - in particular, my body. For some reason, as of recently, people have felt the need to comment on my figure, and I'm SICK OF IT. For many people saying things like 'oh, you're so tiny' or 'I think you could do with putting a bit of weight' is deemed okay, and is apparently meant to be taken as a compliment - which, if I'm perfectly honest, I'm still trying to figure out how that could be. If I was to turn round and say to someone 'oh, you're so big' or 'I think you could do with losing a bit of weight' (which I would never ever EVER dream of saying to someone, but let's just look at this from a hypothetical point of view) it would most definitely not be deemed as socially acceptable or okay in any shape or form, so why do different rules apply to people who are on the smaller side?

Body confidence is something that is becoming well recognised and celebrated, yet I honestly do believe that people need a bit of help with understanding the meaning of this. Body confidence shouldn't just be about praising people with curves or even attempting to make them feel better by pointing out how 'disgusting' it is when people's hipbones stick out. Once you really look into it, some of the things you find are so utterly insulting - an example being 'Real Men Go For Curves, Only Dogs Like Bones' - as if we should somehow put on weight to complete our lifelong quest to find a 'real man', it truly is just ridiculous. I think body confidence should be more about celebrating every body, regardless of your shape or size, and less about comparing the two in order to make someone feel better - because, realistically, you're just making another person feel worse. There's been countless occasions where I've felt good in an outfit, and then had a comment said about my weight - which has resulted in me going and covering up in a big jumper or, my favourite thing EVER, my dressing gown.

I think it's a universal truth that we all want what we can't have, whether we admit that or not. Whilst I would like to blame people's comments on jealousy or whatnot, I still don't think that it can be excused - would we be so desperate to find an explanation if it were aimed at someone who was a bit larger? What I find particularly sad is that I can honestly say that I don't know anyone who's happy and confident with their body, and I wish that I could change that - yet I know for a fact that the way to go about this isn't by looking at other body shapes and comparing yours in a more positive light, it should be about remembering the fact that every body (&everybody) is beautiful in their own way - regardless of whether they're a size 4 or a size 40.

To be kind and respectful towards others, we firstly need to start with ourselves. Instead of looking in the mirror and thinking about what you'd like to change about yourself, how about you instead focus on what you like about yourself? If you're struggling with that, read this quote by Shane Koyczan, one of my all time favourite spoken word poets;

I'm sorry for the long rant, but I felt like it was time to address this. It's 2017, and people are still commenting negatively on other people's body types, and I'm fed up with it. How about before you say anything, even if you mean it in a nice way, you take a couple of seconds to think and process what you are actually about to say - starting by putting yourself in the other persons shoes and thinking about how you would feel if they were to say it to you. There's so so much more to a person than just how they look but, speaking from experience, it does feel absolutely awful when people make comments about your appearance. So, for now, how about we practise self love and self care, and then project that towards other people?

I hope you enjoyed (??) this blog post, and I'll see you next week.

Love,
Grace x

You know when you're absentmindedly watching YouTube videos and it suddenly gets to the point where you're 5 minutes into a video, with no real explanation or idea of how you've ended up watching it? That happened to me the other day, where I stumbled across a short film called 'Identity'. Admittedly, when I find myself in the depths of YouTube, I eventually realise it's time to go to bed when it's 2am and I'm finding myself hysterically laughing at videos of cats (or faceswaps... my all time favourite is this one here), but this particular video didn't really have the usual effect.

(link to film here)

The film is set in a "parallel universe" where everybody wears masks due to their lack of self identity - a moment I found particularly interesting is when a girl crosses the hall from one group of friends to another, changing her mask in order to fit in with the people she is surrounded by. This visual choice is open to interpretation but I see it as the desire to blend in and become part of a group, instead of the 'sore thumb' who sticks out and doesn't really look like they belong anywhere. The people you are friends with, realistically, will share similar values and morals to your own, yet I don't, in any way, think that this means you are all clones of each other - I think it's your differences which make the friendship what it is.

I remember, a few years ago now, when a band (twelve24... oh, the memories) came into school and spoke about how we each have a fingerprint which is completely different from everybody else's - which, when I think about it, is actually slightly terrifying. (For anyone who asks the commonly asked question of 'How do I tell the difference between you and Alice?', I think that's going to be my new response - "look at our fingerprints"). The truth is, everybody does have their own identity - no matter how similar they may seem to their siblings, friends, family etc etc.

For example, I am yet to find someone who detests milk, yoghurt, cheese, cream (or anything of the dairy variety) as much as I do, who also has a chronic phobia of vomit and is utterly in love with Benedict Cumberbatch. (If you're out there .... then hi!).

Even though I look extremely similar to my sister, we have completely different identities (shocking, I know!) and are more different than, I think, people realise. Because we look alike, people tend to regard us as the same person, which can be annoying sometimes - especially because she says the weirdest things EVER and I don't want to be associated with that! 

So, what shapes your identity? Without getting too deep and philosophical, I think the simple answer for this is that everyday you have ever lived has shaped who you become - both the good days, and the bad. The environment in which you have been brought up in shapes your identity, and so do the people you are surrounded by. However, I think you also have the power to create your own identity for yourself - through the choices you make, and the actions upon which you respond with. 

Something that has been part of my identity for most of my life is the fact that I am a triplet - no past tense; not 'was', not 'used to be' - I am a triplet and I will be for the rest of my life. I remember times when I used to be embarrassed to say that, fearing about how different and unusual it is - now I would give absolutely anything to go back and bask in the fact that I'm part of something that not a lot of people are without it feeling ... incomplete.

I also love to write (surprise, surprise!) - if I'm not doing it myself, then I'm watching/reading/listening to other people's work. I guess that stems from growing up in an environment where I was always encouraged to read, which drove me to go that step further and create my own work - firstly in diary format which, thinking about that now, makes me cringe uncontrollably - 'Dear Diary, x fell out with me today and I feel so sad' or 'Dear Diary, I think I want to marry x' you know, the usual (pre)teen drivel - a younger version of Bridget Jones. 

My favourite colour is purple, which is fitting as my middle name is Violet. I spent years of my life being embarrassed about that, but learnt to love it after I watched American Horror Stories and was introduced to the character of Violet. (Tate n Violet 4evs !! xx) Now I sit in smugness when people are telling their middle names, and I know that there's very little chance that they will possess the same one as mine. 

There's so much depth to everyone, which I feel you can't personally describe yourself. For example, if I was to sit here and describe my own identity, I think it'd be very different to how Alice or anyone else who knows me, sometimes better than I know myself. (Mainly for the simple reason that I'd probably leave out all the bad stuff).

So, to round off a post which originally started with my love for a video, I just wanted to end with saying that I think everyone should embrace their own personal identity instead of feeling the need to hide it or be embarrassed of it, fearing the reaction you'll receive from other people. Be unapologetically yourself because, at the end of the day, that's all you can be. 

I hope you enjoyed this post, and I'll see you next week!

Love,

Grace x

A couple of days ago, I got in from work and just burst into tears in front of my mum and sister. I felt overwhelmed with the amount of things I had to do - a driving test looming, an endless stack of school work and everything else in between. For around 10 minutes I sat at the kitchen table and bawled my eyes out, worrying about how much I had to do, and how little time I had left - telling my mum that I just wanted to 'drop everything' ... or, in other words, give up everything I have already come so far in achieving. I know that I've spoken about this before, but I have extremely limited self confidence when it comes to my own ability, which results in me doubting absolutely everything that I ever do. I have heard the words 'Just have confidence in your own ability' countless times, but it truly is so much easier said than done. 

At this particular moment in time, the thing I was most worried about was my driving test. Failure is one of my biggest fears, and I cannot even explain how worried I was that the result of my test wouldn't be a good one. Over the past couple of months, I experienced an utter downfall in my confidence in just about everything, and my driving skills were certainly affected. 

After I'd stopped being a miserable sod (sorry Mum!), we sat down and watched one of my all time favourite films 'The Danish Girl' in an attempt to cheer me up (which, if you're familiar with the plot, doesn't seem entirely logical). The film follows Lili Elbe, a Danish painter, who became one of the first people to undergo a sex-change operation after coming to terms with the fact that she had been born a man, but knew in her heart that 'Lili' was her true self. Not going to lie, I feel like I've not done the film much justice with that pathetic attempt of a plot summary, but I really do recommend that you watch it! I love everything about the film - the plot, the locations and, of course, the characters - and it's so different to anything I have ever watched before. 

Anyway, throughout the film I became aware of Lili's sheer determination to achieve everything that she wanted to achieve. She battles many demons throughout the entirety of the film, yet one aspect which utterly resonated with me was at the very end. For the final operation, she was aware of the risks it involved, yet she still went ahead and went through with it. The next morning I woke up feeling so inspired, and so ready to work hard and achieve everything that I wanted to. 

With that said, I went out driving around 4 times a day, made myself a list of all the things I had to do for college, and sorted out other things that I also needed to get done. For so long I let fear and silly thoughts hold me back from everything that I wanted to do, and I knew that I could either let these feelings dictate my choices, or I could fight them and get the outcome that I wanted. The thing is, I have come so far, and there's no way that I am slipping back again. I made a promise that 2017 was going to be 'my year' and I'm so determined to make it amazing.

I know for many people this may seem like an extremely over dramatic post, but I know that there's people out there who it may help. So many people fear failure - it chews us up and spits us out, making us feel so worthless when we can feel it looming above us. However, and again I know it's so much easier said than done, but if you work hard and try your best then 'failure' simply doesn't exist. Yes, you may not get the highest marks, or perhaps you don't pass but the only thing you can ever really do it keep your calm and try as hard as you physically can. 

When I feel like this, I look for inspiration from others who have been brave enough to go ahead with their wishes, despite the risks they had to take. Alongside Lili Elbe, one of my greatest inspirations is my inhumanly brave brother. Luke went through things which most people will never even think about in their lifetime, and experiencing his bravery and maturity towards absolutely anything that was thrown at him has given me enough inspiration for the rest of my life. With anything I do, I remember everything that he went through, and it always puts things into perspective. Making him proud is always on my mind, and I'm at my happiness when I know that I have. 

Sorry for another rambling blog post, I always feel that I have so much to say but struggle with how to say it! For anyone wondering ... I did do my driving test, and PASSED !! Perhaps in that case I'd advise that you stay off the roads, I'm very excitable! 

I hope you're having a fabulous day, and I'll see you next week!

Love,

Grace x

In most films and TV shows, women are represented as the 'inferior' gender who need a male partner in order to feel complete. It saddens me that girls grow up feeling that their life long mission is to find their version of prince charming, get married and have children. I feel like in my blog posts I'm always trying to defy stereotypes and expectations - my sole reason for this being that I really do wish I had someone telling me these kinds of things when I was younger ... as I really do think that they would've helped me in the long run.

I know people who have this irrational fear of ending up alone - unmarried with no children. Now obviously, I (hopefully) have many years left of my life and I don't know how anything is going to pan out, but ending up alone isn't something that particularly bothers me. Sometimes it takes a lot for you to realise what's actually important, but once you do there really is no going back. The most important people in my life are my friends and family, and I know that as long as I have them by my side then I can never truly be alone. 

But this phrase 'girl power', to me, isn't just about feeling independent and confident by yourself, it's also about respecting others too ... in particular, girls. I scroll through various social media sites, and one think I've picked up on recently is how blooming nasty girls can be to one another. Whether it's in the form of subtle indirects, or sometimes screenshots whereby they're publicly humiliating one another - it seems to be everywhere I look. 

It saddens me to see females picking on one another, especially when it seems to revolve around the way they look - and thereby making a mockery of it. Most of the time it seems to be centred around makeup, and the way someone has applied a specific look onto their face. I'm not going to lie, when I see things like this it just completely baffles me - makeup is considered as an art, and a form of expression that is personal to how that individual is feeling on that specific day, so I struggle to understand how and why people feel the need to comment on that.

I'm pretty sure that most females on this planet have had struggles about their appearance before, yet you would think that this piece of common knowledge would stop people from thinking it's acceptable to tear down others about the way that they look? For some unexplainable reason, it doesn't.

Obviously, I'm not going to sit here and pretend like I'm not guilty of doing this too. I've walked past people before, and raised an eyebrow or even said a comment in a judgemental manner - let's be honest, I think we're all guilty of this. I truly wish I wasn't, and I am definitely working on this. (this could be another New Years Resolution??). I know for a fact that the world would be a much more beautiful place if we all embraced and accepted one another, regardless of the way we look.

For those of you who have been reading my blog for a while, you will know that I like to focus on positivity and happiness - they're pretty much the main 'ingredients' which go into my blog posts. I know for a fact that I always feel truly happy when I'm surrounded by my 'girliessssss'. There's something so fulfilling about being surrounded by a bunch of girls who support and respect each other, and also who can bring you back down to Earth if you start to get a bit ahead of yourself. I'm obviously not going to start writing examples, but there has definitely been some funny moments (;) ).

Now for the other significant females in my life, I feel like you need a mention too. I come from a family of extremely strong and independent women, and I'm super lucky that I have grown up in an environment which isn't solely patriarchal. (Imagine how I would've ended up, haha). My mum, my nana's and my sister all inspire me to stand on my own two feet, and empower me to be the best version of myself I possibly can.

I also find masses upon masses of 'girl power' inspiration from people who are in the public eye. Of course, there's your obvious candidates like The Spice Girls, but someone who I particularly wanted to talk about was one of my blogging idols, Megan Ellaby. (Google her, she's fabulous!). She's one of those people who I really do look up to in terms of this blogging malarky, as she has achieved so so much. Both her and her sister Faye (I'm aware I sound like the biggest stalker right now) both have such unique and quirky styles, and I truly admire them so much. Both the way they dress and present themselves is the epitome of girl power and, in all honesty, I'm just obsessed!

Of course, Sherlock Season 4 started on Sunday and since I'm currently up to my third time watching that FANTASTIC episode, I just had to mention it. Amanda Abbington, or Mary Watson, is someone who I deeply admire. Although the episode broke my heart into a million pieces (I'm not going to give any spoiler but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE watch it. PLEASE), it also reminded me of what a, how to I put this(??), 'bad ass bitch' she is. She completely defies all stereotypes and conventions of a female role in a hit TV detective series, and it's definitely one of the many reasons why I am so obsessed with that show (alongside the obvious reason ... Cumberbatch ;) )

I wish I could sit and ramble on about Louise Brealey too, but I think I'll save that for another post ... this one is already pretty long!

So, I guess there it is. I could definitely write about 'Girl Power' for an eternity, but the looming of A Level work to catch up on is massively playing on my conscience.

See you next week!

Love,
Grace x

I am currently sat in my bedroom, alone, after being surrounded by my family for the past couple of days. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that there is only 4 more days until Sherlock is back on TV, but I am feeling totally, utterly and completely content. I have many blog posts whereby I mention the importance of surrounding yourself with great people, but I really don't think I can say it enough. Although I'm probably being biased here, my family are my favourite people in the world, and I am honestly the happiest person alive when I am in their company.

Seeing as this is the last blog post of 2016, I felt that it was only right to reflect upon the year in a way that wasn't just sharing my top 9 pictures on Instagram. Although I don't want this post to be negative and dull, I can't ignore the fact that this year has been the most difficult years of my entire life. I have lost people who I never thought I would, and in result of this lost a part of myself - one that I know I will never get back. There are people who I miss every single day, and who I would trade places with in a flash - if only I could. For months I was ridden with this guilt that would make me question what right I had to be here, when the people I knew 'deserved' to be here, weren't.

I'm still battling with these thoughts, but they're not as loud as they used to be. I know for a fact that I can't spend the rest of my life questioning why things happened - because the truth is, they just did. We have all these expectations that when people are ill, they'll get better and that you'll only say goodbye to the world once you're old and have lived a full and happy life - but in reality that's just a fairytale. Something I've learnt this year, and as cliche as it sounds, is that we need to live every single day like it's our last and make sure to tell people just how important they are to us. (Funnily enough, whenever I try to do this to my Mum or Dad, they just think I'm after something).

There's no way in hell that I'm going to sit here and just focus on the awful things that happened in 2016, because that is just not my style. There are 365 days in a year and despite the fact that, admittedly so, a large percentage were spent in utter, utter misery, there were some happy times to. This year I met some of the best people I ever have, I found something I loved to do, I did things that scared me and I grew as a person. I realised my strengths, and my weaknesses. Although I would love to say that I am now a mature young lady, I simply cannot lie. Despite the fact that I have changed, I know that it'll take a lot more than that for me to ever be described as 'mature', I guess it simply isn't in my nature.

I hate cheese, but this post is about to get as cheesy as the 'Quattro Fromaggi' pizza I once ordered in Italy which genuinely put me off cheese for life. (The smell, the way it looked ... it all still gives me nightmares). I know that sometimes it gets easy to become tied up with all the negative things in your life, and sometimes the positive and the good things get pushed aside and ignored, but I personally think that the best 'medicine' for sadness is to focus on the happiness that you've endured too. Even in times of indescribable pain, I've always taken a minute to be consoled by the happy memories that I have experienced beforehand. This is going to sound like the most cringey and cliche thing ever, but here is something that I always reflect back on;

On the day that the worst thing imaginable happened, I'm not going to write it here, but I'm sure that many of you can guess what it was, I remember feeling like the world had stopped turning. Everything froze, and time seemed like it wasn't even a concept anymore. It was just like a dream that I couldn't wake up from and I lost sense of reality - because even when you know that something is going to happen, it doesn't mean that you can ever prepare for it when it does. Yet a few hours later, I began to hear cars zooming past outside and, as weird as this sounds, all I could think about was that 'life goes on'. And, at the end of the day, it does.

When I'm sad, I find myself thinking about that. Although your world stops - the rest of the world carries on. I also find myself thinking about all the times I've laughed so much I can barely breathe, the times I've danced with my favourite people in the entire world, or even the times when I've found solace in a book that I've never read before (wow, how nerdy). There is so much to experience, and sometimes I find that I have no time to be sad - because I just want to carry of living.

However, that being said, that's not a healthy way to be. I find myself constantly trying to find new ways to distract myself, in order to stop myself from feeling things that I just really don't want to feel. Although when I feel myself getting low, I can move on from it by thinking about the time I laughed so hard I spat tomato soup all over my Nanna and Grandad's white table cloth, I think it would be a lot better in the long run if I sat and endured the pain - instead of letting it build up into something that becomes a lot harder to deal with.

So, I guess that's New Year Resolution Number 1. I think another would be to do more things that scare me, and to stray away from my comfort zone every now and then - because, that tends to be when the best things happen. I am obviously going to carry on with my blogging - my silly little rambles that people seem to enjoy (!!!), and hope that 2017 brings me exciting things to write about!

I don't want this post to be too long, as I think people may begin to get bored of my silly self, but I just wanted to say a quick thank you. I think this may sound like a speech at an awards ceremony, (cue my dad saying a comment such as 'An award for the biggest idiot' or something along those lines...) but I wanted to follow my own advice and tell people who I care about just how much they mean to me.

To my amazing family, this year has been tough on every single one of us, but we've all managed to pull through together. The way you've stuck by me, and continued to make me laugh even on the worst days imaginable has been the most important factor in getting me through this year. I hope I've done the same for you (even though my jokes are terrible, and usually only end with me laughing). I am utterly grateful that I am able to spend time with such strong, vibrant people and I hope 2017 brings us more happy memories together.

To my lovely friends, you are the best people I have ever met. In times where I've felt so alone, you've shown me that I'm not - and waking up on Christmas morning to your lovely messages meant more to me than you will ever know or understand. It breaks my heart to think that in a couple of months time we won't be spending every day together, but I know that we'll always be friends, regardless of whether we see each other once a week or once a year. I hope 2017 brings you more fun and laughter, and that you don't get sick of me (but lets be real, you're stuck with me).

And to anyone else reading this. Although there's been many jokes (by my 'amazing family') that it's just myself clicking on my posts 10,000 times, every single person who reads my blogs has helped me more than they could ever imagine. The support I have received is completely overwhelming, and it still baffles me that people want to read what I write. I find it strange that there's people all over the world who are reading this, but I hope that the words I write help you in any way that they can.

I've got such positive thoughts for 2017, and am looking forward to immersing in a fresh, new year with promises of a new start and new beginnings.

I hope you have a lovely new year, and I'll see you in 2017 (aGHHH!)

Love,
Grace x

Here is a little ramble I once wrote at 1am, I guess it is very bitty and may not make sense in some parts, but I think there's some important messages in here (I hope you agree!!). 

Believing in myself is something that I find almost impossible. When times get hard and it seems as though the walls inside my being are crashing down, I can’t help but question my own capabilities and wonder how different things would be if only I was more intelligent, more beautiful or even more interesting. The question 'am I good enough' is one that I find whirling round my brain repeatedly, crushing down my confidence little by little each time. Yet when I have time to think about it, I realise that there is no such thing as 'good enough' - in every context, there is always going to be someone 'better' than you ... but why does that feel like a competition? 

I've never been one of those people who are top of the class, definitely not the best sports player, or even won a competition before (except from a short story one, woo!). Being 'good enough' isn't a measure that I'm forcing other people to base me off, it's more about how I see myself. I write in my blogs about not caring what people think and, trust me, that is the truth - yet I'm still trying to find a way of not being so bloody hard on myself. I'm constantly finding things that I've done wrong or that I need to improve on, yet fail to celebrate the achievements I have to my name. 

I think when difficulty strikes, this is the easy way out. To believe in yourself is something that people, and of course I’m more biased towards teenagers (because I am one), find especially challenging - and I really wish I knew why. I think, again stereotypically, that something this worth is based on is purely to do with image, and the way that we look. There's so much pressure nowadays to look a certain way - all primped and 'flawless', and it really does act as such a massive factor in the way that we feel about ourselves. 

We all have this idea of ‘perfection’ which is so utterly ridiculous - because there is no such thing! If you ask someone to define perfect, then I can guarantee that they won’t be able to conjure up the words to explain it (unless they say something like ‘Benedict Cumberbatch’ … In that case, I completely agree)! 

It’s times like this where we need to look back and think about all the things we have achieved in such a small time frame of existence. The possibilities we have are endless, whether that be our future, the outfits that we can create using items already in our wardrobes, the choices that we can make every single day … and the list goes on. 

The term ‘infinity’ is a catalyst for many elements to ourselves which live inside our bodies and need the opportunity to come out and show to the world just how bright we can shine. 

Personally, writing is my infinity. I find a release from the repeated tapping on my laptop keys, that I am yet to find elsewhere. Writing makes me feel good, and even better when I am congratulated or rewarded from doing so. I cannot even begin to express how it feels when people message me saying that they love my work, or that it has helped them in some way. It is as though the stars have lit up inside of me and expanded to create a galaxy to show me that the opportunities I have are endless. 

When typing, I have no real idea what is going to appear on the page. Sometimes it even shocks me, scares me or surprises me. I then realise that this is also an aspect of ‘infinity’… My little infinity which lives inside of me, and helps me to understand my own thoughts and feelings in a creative and expressive way. 

I look at myself in the mirror when trying on a dress, and see that there are infinite ways I can look which could make this dress look considerably better - or even worse. I have infinite thoughts buzzing around my brain which are in a battle deciding whether I should crumble down in despair at my reflection in this deceitful piece of glass, or hold my head high and tell the world that I am proud of who I am and what the universe has turned me into.

Strangers. We look around and spot people that we have never seen before, and will never see again, and there’s a complete essence of beauty in that. Looking into their eyes, there are infinite things that they could be feeling, thinking, doing or creating … all in the vast infinity of their minds. I've mentioned about my fixation on people I've never met and will never meet before - there really is just something that completely fascinates me about that concept.

I guess feelings could be described as an infinity. Every day when you wake up, there are infinite things that you could be feeling, and that number expands due to the things we experience on that particular day. In the world, there are infinite things that could be happening at this very moment in time, even stuff that we don't even know about. 

There’s so much colour in the world, brought to us by the darkest of things. Yes, there’s hate, crime, violence, homophobia and awful, awful things that happen all across our beautiful planet, but it’s only in the darkest of times that we realise how bright we, and everyone else around us, shine. A spectrum of colours and an infinite amount of love. 

The world is our oyster, and it is our right to protect it and make it our own. 

Our little infinity.  

Hope you have a lovely week, and an even lovelier Christmas!

Love,

Grace x