Steady My Heart.

Apologies, this is going to be completely ineloquent (is that even a word?!) but it's gone midnight, I'm watching Love Actually so I'm somewhat distracted by the lovely Colin Firth! Yesterday, I had a rubbish day. Today I decided to stay in bed to avoid a repeat of yesterday's crap day. Productive? No. But hey, I was tired and my plans got cancelled so I spent most of the day curled up under my duvet watching catch up TV. It was pleasantly interrupted by lunchtime, where Vicky and I decided to have enchiladas and dance around to Christmas music. Followed by a nap. I don't know why but I've been feeling pretty miserable the past couple of days, various stressful things have happened and I just feel tearful and yucky. So when it came to decision about whether to get up and go to Team Night tonight I umm-ed and ahh-ed for a while before deciding I probably should go. And I am SO glad I went. It was Christmas/advent themed. Liz gave a fantastic talk on light an

Being loved and feeling loved are two different things. Objective and subjective. I am loved, but often I don't feel that way. It's something that I often have to remind myself. Today for example, I'm feeling a bit lonely, a bit sad (probably because the weather is utterly miserable and I feel fat) and consequently wanted a cuddle. Now, there are people I could have contacted to get a cuddle, to curl up and watch crap TV with but instead, I decided to spend the evening lying in bed moping. Why? Because I'm scared of being rejected, scared of people not loving me enough to come and give me that cuddle/invite me to go to theirs. I'm scared that maybe they don't love me, that maybe I am just lying to myself. And then I want to hit myself around the head, to knock some sense into my silly little brain. Just this past week I have spent time with great friends on more than one occasion and I have photographic evidence to prove it... That was Thanksgiving, we

Today, my house mates are on a double date in London all day. They were giggling and excited as they left this morning, ready to spend time with their other halves. Currently, I am moping, curled up under my duvet, eating far too many biscuits. I have been single for around 4 years now, I've been on the odd date, I've been through months of "crushing" on someone, knowing that it's unlikely the feelings are reciprocated and even recently, there was the potential for relationship but various factors meant that it's fizzled out and I'm well and truly back in the land of singleness. I think it becomes even more difficult in Christian circles...so many of my friends are in long-term, committed relationships, a few are engaged and some are even married. Engagement and marriage often happens relatively young among Christians and although I'm happy for my friends, I do sometimes feel like I'm a freak, like I'm never going to find someone. It's ri

I didn't want to go. I spent most of Friday evening telling myself that I was not wanted, that I'd only been invited out of politeness, that I hadn't lost enough weight since the summer, that I'd feel on the edges and that actually I should really just stay home. But I'd spent £30+ on my train ticket, I was damn well going! And it was great. In fact, more than great. It was one of the highlights of my year. Happy Laura right here. Bright and early Saturday morning I hopped on a train to be reunited with Team Foxtrot . We arrived, had a spot of lunch and generally spent time chatting, catching up and eating cake...the 3 second rule over the comfy chairs felt like we were back at base! Once everyone had arrived, and Reg had survived a journey with 3 boys who were inevitably plotting his downfall...we headed over to Blaise castle and grounds for a walk as the sun went down. It was BEAUTIFUL and far milder than we anticipated! Some members of the team,

Just before I begin, this post has been written with the permission of the friend concerned and seen by her before going public. November 2005 changed my life. I will never forget the events of that month and the ones to follow. I still get pretty emotional at this time of year, I guess I grieve for what I feel I lost, I grieve for what my then best friend lost, I feel sad about the entire situation. This is by no means a 100% accurate blow-by-blow account, nor is it everything I remember/feel, it's some snippets of the memories of a traumatic event in some 13 year old lives. Things blur and become distorted with time and the hurt, sadness and anger lessens, but it is never forgotten. For me, it started with a phone call, followed by a long night waiting in the house for news on whether or not Ellie's mum had been found. We had been in the same friendship group at school for a year or so and had become extremely close in the months prior to her Mum's disappearance. Sh