World Bipolar Day: The Year Everything Fell Apart… and Finally Made Sense A lighthearted, honest look at living with bipolar disorder, mental health, and the power of support There was a long stretch of my life where I genuinely believed I was just “bad at being a person.” My emotions behaved like they were auditioning for a circus act, soaring into the clouds one moment and crashing through the floor the next. I’d sink into terrible episodes of depression that felt like someone switched off the sun, followed by extreme highs where I was convinced I could fix my entire life, career, and possibly the global economy in one weekend. I kept asking myself the same quiet question: What is wrong with me? And because I didn’t have an answer, I carried the shame alone. Before I carry on, I need to mention in huge neon lights that anyone experiencing symptoms like these should speak with a qualified mental health professional, because proper support is essential for managing bipolar disorder sa...
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My First Friday: Holding the Fort While He Travels Africa I’ve made it to my first Friday! The first Friday of a month away from my husband, while he travels across Africa, and I… well, I run the small nation-state that is our home. Let’s be honest, this isn’t just “holding down the fort.” This is logistics, diplomacy, crisis management, emotional regulation, and Uber‑Momming all rolled into one. While Adrian hops between countries, I’m here juggling: A home that refuses to pause just because he’s away A kid with schedules that multiply the moment I blink An office that still expects me to be a functioning adult The dreaded report that lurks like a villain in a Marvel origin story The ongoing ingrown toenail saga (because of course) And the IEB Concession fight, a full-time advocacy job all on its own As if that list wasn’t enough, this season comes with early mornings . The kind of early mornings that should be illegal. Let me be clear: I am not a morning person. I do ...
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The Emotional Seesaw of Letting Go (and Trying Not to Cry in Public) This week has felt like standing with one foot in two different worlds, the world where my children still need me, and the world where my marriage and my own heart need tending too. Somehow, I’m expected to balance both without falling apart. Spoiler: I did fall apart… in a barber shop, of all places… because of course I did. Matt started his first day of work this morning, day one of a five‑day induction. His nerves have been simmering for days, and they finally boiled over this morning, but he straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and walked out the door like a determined young man. I watched him go with that familiar cocktail of pride, panic, and “oh my word, when did he get so grown?” And then the flat went quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you suddenly aware of your own breathing. So, I’ve spent the day on his couch, half-watching TV, half-folding washing, ironing shirts, and keeping one...
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Cape Town Rentals - Where Sanity Goes to Die Finding a Home for the Boys: The Cape Town Edition You’d think that helping two young men start their next chapter would be simple. But no. Not when the city in question is Cape Town, the land of ocean views, mountain backdrops, and rental prices that make you question every life choice you’ve ever made. As most of you know, Matt is moving back to Cape Town, this time, he is dragging his best friend Liam along. It’s exciting, it’s huge, it’s the beginning of their independence. Naturally, Adrian and I want to make sure they start off on the right foot, somewhere safe, somewhere decent, somewhere close enough to The Silo so Matt isn’t commuting like a long-distance trucker. But there’s one tiny problem: finding somewhere to live that doesn’t require a small fortune and a prayer. Cape Town is not cheap. Cape Town near The Silo? If you whisper “affordable” in that area, the buildings roll their eyes at you. And honestly, I’d love t...
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The Space They Leave Behind - Letting Go, Holding On There’s a moment in motherhood that never gets easier, no matter how many times you face it: watching your child leave home. I’m standing in that moment again with Matthew. I’ve done this once before, the packing, the settling in, the brave smile, the quiet heartbreak, and now I’m doing it all over again. I am so proud of Matthew, of the strength he’s built, the lessons he’s carried, and the courage it takes for him to step out again. I know how hard things were for him before, and that history will always make a part of me worry, because that’s what a mother’s heart does. But I can also see how much more prepared he is now, how much steadier he stands, and how deeply he wants to find his way. I believe he will. I trust the foundation he’s grown into, even as I carry the quiet ache of letting go. I have faith that this time, he’s going to be okay, and he will find his way. I know that I still have two more boys at home, two more ...
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A Bittersweet Achievement - Watching My Son Rise Into Himself There are moments in motherhood that stretch your heart in opposite directions, pride pulling one way, longing pulling the other. Today, I’m sitting in one of those moments, holding both truths at once. My son Matthew has once again shown me what resilience, courage, and self‑knowledge truly look like. In 2024, he found a home at The Silo in Cape Town, a place that recognised his talent, his work ethic, and the quiet wisdom he carries. Early in 2025, life threw him a curve ball and demanded that he step away. What stayed with me was The Silo’s response, they told him he would always have a place there. When he is done figuring it all out, he will be welcomed home. What followed was a year of deep personal work. Matthew moved back home and spent the rest of 2025 understanding himself in ways he had never been able to before. Having received his autism diagnosis, he began therapy. He learned how his mind works, what o...
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The Three Circles: How Cancer Has Marked My Life Today is World Cancer Day, a day meant to raise awareness, honour those we’ve lost, support those still fighting, and celebrate those who survived. But for many of us, this isn’t just a date on the calendar. Cancer has a way of entering your life without knocking. It doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t care about timing. It doesn’t care about the plans you made, the people you love, or the future you imagined. It just arrives, sudden, sharp, unapologetic, and everything shifts. When I think about cancer, I see three circles. The people we lost. The people still fighting. The people who survived. And somewhere in the middle of those circles is the everyone else, the ones who watched, waited, prayed, held hands, wiped tears, and tried to stay strong even when our hearts were breaking. For me, cancer isn’t just something happening around me. It’s something that has brushed up against my own life too closely, too personally. It’s someth...