This was very nearly an ‘unpost’, but I think I have given it just a little too much thought for it to fall into that category. I’ve had a lot of issues surrounding a wedding I was at this weekend. Despite the lovely weather we’ve been having here recently, my inner life has been rather… Continue reading Chinks of darkness
Yesterday was Mothering Sunday, being the fourth Sunday in Lent, and historically a religious holiday. It’s now the day that we in the UK celebrate ‘Mother’s Day’, our version of the secular American holiday honouring mothers. Up-front confession: I’m terrible at socially enforced commemorations and usually forget to do anything about them; my own mum… Continue reading How was Mother’s Day for you?
Early attempts Although I didn’t know the term ‘impostor syndrome’ back then, I think one of my earliest memories of feeling that I didn’t quite deserve to be where I was was when I played my flute in a residential music summer school. I’d auditioned the year before and hadn’t got in because I fluffed… Continue reading Confessions of a serial impostor
I was sorting through some old photos recently and found one of me as a girl, when I must have been about nine years old, I think. I look quite happy in the photograph, but it saddens me to think that that young girl (me) was being raised as a boy, with absolutely no awareness… Continue reading Anna was a girl once, she says
People always seem to assume other people are ‘normal’ (i.e. like them). Here’s a random list of five ways I’ve been assumed normal. 1. ‘Hope the roads are clear!’ I told at least a dozen people we were going to Inverness for Christmas, and without exception, they expressed concern that the A9 (the main road… Continue reading Assumed normal
Let me begin by recounting a couple of incidents from the past week. Firstly, on Tuesday, I was walking through a crowded shopping centre and came across a young man who is involved in customer service of some sort. He approached me and said ‘can I help you, sir?’ – or some such thing, the… Continue reading Sticks and stones may break my bones …