The Trio & Me

From trauma to triumph

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For almost forty years, my life was shaped by trauma — the kind that settles into your bones and teaches you to survive instead of live. But survival is not the end of the story. Not mine, and not my children’s. This blog begins in the year before I turn forty, the year I finally decided to change the ending. I made a choice: To right what I could, release what I couldn’t, and rebuild what was broken. To stop shrinking from my own life and start shaping it. To heal — deeply, honestly, and fully — not just for me, but for my three children who have walked through every storm beside me. They are my reasons to rise. My three small suns in a sky that has seen too many clouds.
  • 40 Things to do.. before I turn 40 (16)

    40 Things to do.. before I turn 40 (16)

    16. Keep a plant alive

    When I first wrote my list, I was thinking about all the things I wanted to experience, the things I hoped to achieve, and even the things I had never quite managed to do. Some were big, life-changing goals. Others were much smaller little victories that, for one reason or another, had always escaped me.

    Keeping a plant alive fell firmly into that second category.

    I’ve always loved greenery. There is something about walking into a home filled with lush foliage that instantly makes a space feel calm, welcoming and alive. I wanted that feeling in my own home, but no matter how many times I tried, my plants never seemed to survive.

    I’d start with the best intentions. I’d water them, admire them and imagine my home slowly becoming an indoor jungle. Then life would get busy. I’d forget to water them, lose interest for a while, and before I knew it they had outgrown their pots, been neglected for too long, and there was nothing left to rescue.

    Eventually, I gave up.

    Instead, I filled my home with artificial plants. They looked beautiful, required no effort and, over the years, I spent a small fortune collecting high quality ones.

    Then, two of my children began struggling with constant allergies. We focused on treating what we thought were seasonal allergies before eventually discovering they were reacting to dust. They started on allergy desensitisation, and are getting monthly injections. What I hadn’t realised was just how much dust all of those fake plants were collecting, and whilst I was treating the allergies, I unknowingly was neglecting the actual cause. 

    No matter how often I cleaned them, they were impossible to stay on top of. Every leaf, every stem and every arrangement seemed to trap dust. As much as I loved how they looked, they were making our home less healthy, not more.

    Determined to find another solution, I bought a propagation station and started with cuttings and bought a couple of mature plants. I intentionally chose varieties that could grow happily in water or were forgiving if I forgot to water them—something I knew I needed to account for with my ADHD. And surprisingly… it worked.

    A couple of plants became several, and then dozens. 

    Now my home is slowly filling with real plants that I’ve nurtured myself. I’ve researched varieties that help improve indoor air quality and are well suited to households managing asthma and allergies. More importantly, I’ve kept them alive.

    Every new leaf feels like a tiny achievement.

    To anyone else, “keep a plant alive” probably seems like an odd thing to include on a ‘bucket’ list. It isn’t climbing a mountain or travelling the world. It won’t make headlines. But sometimes the smallest goals become the most meaningful because they represent growth in ways that only you truly understand.

    For me, these plants represent consistency. They’ve taught me that I can build routines, learn from past failures and create an environment that brings both beauty and wellbeing to my family. More than that, they’ve helped transform my house into a home. 

    🤍 K 

  • 40 Things to do.. before I turn 40 (15)

    40 Things to do.. before I turn 40 (15)

    15. Celebrate Christmas in July 🎄

    My 40 things to do before I turn 40 list includes moments that are less about “doing” and more about creating space for connection, tradition, and meaning – and this was one of them.

    Whilst our Christmas last year was wonderful, in the middle of the South Pacific on a cruise ship where we were waited on, we ate and drunk far too much (and didn’t have the clean up!) there truly was no better way that we could have spent our Christmas together. We did, however, reflect that it felt different – beautiful still, but just different. Because we were away over Christmas, we didn’t get the chance to have our usual home Christmas with all its familiar traditions, decorations, and rhythms. 

    This year, that reflection led us to celebrate Christmas in July instead, intentionally recreating those rituals in a different season.

    We leaned fully into the experience across the month. We baked all the Christmas goodies, spent time decorating, put our Christmas tree up, listened to Christmas music, did arts and crafts, and made a point of watching Christmas movies together. The house felt festive, and there was something really grounding about slowing down and intentionally choosing to recreate those familiar traditions outside of December.

    There was also, of course, plenty of food – probably too much (the usual “December” feelings of overindulging) – but it added to the sense of celebration and togetherness. More than anything though, it became a month focused on intentional family time. In the middle of everyday life, it created space for connection, laughter, and shared experiences that we might otherwise rush past. 

    We also invited our friends over to share in the Xmas joy – A time for reconnection, that is often reserved for December, but why not celebrate anytime. It made us really think about how important social connections are, and how blessed we are to have the very best people in our village. 

    We ended our Christmas in July celebrations with a simple Secret Santa. Each person bought just one gift for someone else and received one in return. No pressure, no big expenses, just something thoughtful and personal. It kept the focus on giving and connection rather than anything excessive or stressful.

    What I didn’t expect was how meaningful it would feel to recreate Christmas outside of December. It wasn’t about replacing the “real” thing, but about extending it – giving ourselves another opportunity to slow down, reconnect, and enjoy the traditions we usually rush through at the end of the year.

    Celebrating Christmas this way has become something I’ll genuinely cherish, and I can see it becoming a tradition we continue every July going forward.

    🤍 K

  • 40 Things to do, before I turn 40 (14)

    40 Things to do, before I turn 40 (14)

    14. Bake a cake

    This one probably sounds like the simplest item on my list – and in many ways, it was. But it earned its place because it was something I hadn’t done in a very long time.

    When my girls were little, our weekends were often spent baking. We’d make cupcakes and cakes for the endless tea parties and picnics that filled our days. I loved those years, the weekends spent just being, having nothing to do except eat cake and drink juice from tea cups. They weren’t about creating perfect treats; they were about creating memories, and they became some of my favourite moments of motherhood.

    Somewhere along the way, though, those moments quietly became memories.

    By the time my son came along, life looked very different. I was raising three children on my own while working full-time, and weekends became less about making memories and more about catching up. There were groceries to buy, washing to fold, floors to clean, lunches to prepare, and a never-ending list of jobs waiting to be ticked off before Monday arrived.

    Without even realising it, the little things that once brought me so much joy were replaced by responsibility.

    That’s why “Bake a cake” made my list.

    It wasn’t really about the cake at all. It was about giving myself permission to slow down, to put the to-do list aside for a couple of hours, and to choose joy over productivity. It was a reminder that not every moment has to be useful or efficient. Sometimes, it’s enough to simply enjoy it.

    So we baked.

    The kitchen was an absolute mess. I think I managed to use almost every bowl and utensil we owned. We licked the batter from the spoon, scraped the bowl clean, laughed at our mess, and then sat together and simply ate cake.

    And honestly, that’s exactly what this challenge has been teaching me.

    Sometimes, reclaiming yourself doesn’t happen through the big, life-changing moments. Sometimes it happens in the smallest ones – in flour-covered benches, sticky fingers, shared laughter, and a slice of homemade cake.

    🤍 K

  • 40 Things to do, before I turn 40 (13)

    40 Things to do, before I turn 40 (13)

    13. Donate blood

    Today, I donated blood for the very first time.

    This is something I have wanted to do since I was 16 years old. I remember reading an article in a women’s magazine about a woman being celebrated for donating blood 250 times. I was completely in awe. I remember thinking what an incredible gift it was to give something so simple that could save someone’s life. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to do it too.

    I couldn’t wait to turn 18 and become eligible to donate. But life had other plans.

    Not long after turning 18, I was diagnosed with iron deficiencies that made me ineligible to donate. Then came pregnancy, motherhood, and a long list of health challenges that followed. Despite everything, the desire to give back never disappeared. Every time I had blood tests, every time my iron levels were checked, I would find myself thinking about donating blood and helping others.

    Over the years, I had iron infusions, ongoing health concerns, and eventually uterine and cervical cell growths that required treatment. Somewhere along the way, I quietly accepted that donating blood might never be possible for me. Then five years ago, I had a hysterectomy.

    Since then, my health has steadily improved, and today, after 26 years of hoping, waiting, and wondering, I finally sat in that chair and donated blood. My iron levels are now in the normal range – perfect, in fact. While I’ve had periods of blood pressure concerns, they are manageable, and today I was able to donate 500ml of blood, enough to potentially save up to three lives.

    As I shared my story with the incredible team at the blood donation centre, I became overwhelmed with emotion. I cried. After carrying this dream for more than half my life, I was finally doing the very thing I had wanted to do since I was a teenager.

    And I sat there with the biggest smile on my face.

    What might seem like a small act to some felt monumental to me. It was empowering, emotional, and deeply meaningful. This wasn’t just about donating blood, it was about perseverance, hope, and finally achieving something I once believed was impossible.

    This won’t be my last donation. As long as I’m able, I’ll continue giving blood and making a small but meaningful difference in the lives of others.

    Of all the things on my list of 40 things to do before I turn 40, this is one I genuinely thought I might never achieve. Today, I did. And I couldn’t be more grateful.

    I can’t wipe the smile off my face, even now as I type this, I feel incredibly proud. 

    🤍 Kobe 

  • 40 Things to do before I turn 40 (12)

    40 Things to do before I turn 40 (12)

    12. Take part in a race

    When I sat down to write my list of 40 things to do before I turn 40, I quickly realised the list all had a central theme – it was about challenging myself. It was about stepping outside of the routines and responsibilities that have defined so much of my adult life and finding pieces of myself again. I wanted to enter my forties feeling confident, purposeful, and open to new experiences. Most of all, I wanted to prove to myself that I was still capable of doing things that scared me.

    One of the items I wrote down was simple: Take part in a race.

    There was no grand ambition behind it. I didn’t want to win a race. I didn’t want to become a runner. I certainly didn’t have dreams of completing marathons or standing on a podium. The goal was simply to participate. To put myself in an environment that felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable and see what happened.

    Fitness has always been a very personal thing for me. Like many women, I’ve had periods in my life where my relationship with my body has been complicated. My body has carried three children, undergone surgeries, recovered from health challenges, and changed more times than I can count. While I have always appreciated movement and understood the importance of looking after myself, it has generally been something I’ve done quietly, without drawing attention to myself.

    The thought of standing amongst hundreds of people in activewear, all seemingly fitter, faster, and more experienced than me, was intimidating. In fact, that’s exactly why I knew I needed to do it.

    For me, this list was never about doing things that came naturally. It was about doing the things that made me hesitate.

    So I signed up for the local annual race the ‘Rocky River Run’. 

    As race day approached, I found myself feeling increasingly nervous. I worried about whether I would be fit enough. I worried about whether I would be the slowest person there. I worried about whether I’d look out of place. The funny thing about anxiety is that it has a way of convincing you that everyone is paying attention to you, when in reality everyone is focused on themselves.

    On the morning of the event, I arrived feeling a mixture of excitement and self-doubt. Looking around at the crowd, I wondered if I had made a mistake. There were seasoned runners, families, fitness groups, and people who looked like they had done this a hundred times before.

    Then the race began. And almost instantly, something shifted. Nobody cared how fast I was going. Nobody cared whether I was running, jogging, or walking. Nobody was judging me. Everyone was simply focused on their own race, their own goals, and their own reasons for being there. The pressure I had built up in my head disappeared.

    Instead, I found myself enjoying the atmosphere. I enjoyed seeing people of all ages and fitness levels participating. I enjoyed the encouragement from spectators and fellow participants. I enjoyed being part of something bigger than myself. Most importantly, I enjoyed knowing that I had shown up.

    I didn’t go fast. I didn’t set any records. I didn’t cross the finish line with an impressive time. But I did exactly what I had set out to do. I participated. I challenged myself. I stepped outside my comfort zone. And when I crossed that finish line, I felt incredibly proud. Not because of the distance. Not because of the achievement itself. But because I had done something that scared me. I had stopped overthinking and simply given it a go.

    As I reflected afterwards, I realised that so much of personal growth happens in moments like these. The achievement isn’t necessarily the event itself. The achievement is overcoming the voice in your head that tells you not to try. It’s choosing courage over comfort. It’s allowing yourself to be a beginner. It’s being willing to show up imperfectly rather than not showing up at all. 

    What started as a simple item on a list became a reminder that I am still capable of surprising myself.

    Since completing the River Run, I’ve already signed up for another event – the Beach Run next month. This time, my daughter has decided to join me, which somehow makes the experience even more special. What began as a challenge for myself is becoming something we can share together, and I love that.

    Do I suddenly have a passion for races? Not particularly. Do I see myself becoming a marathon runner? Definitely not. But I have discovered something far more valuable. I’ve discovered how much joy there is in saying yes to opportunities. How rewarding it feels to try something new. How empowering it is to prove to yourself that fear doesn’t have to make the decisions.

    And for that reason alone, I’m more thankful than ever that I decided to do this list of 40 things.

    Kobe 🤍

  • 40 Things to Do Before I Turn 40 (11) 

    40 Things to Do Before I Turn 40 (11) 

    11. Try a New Recipe Each Month This Year

    I’ve had a complicated relationship with food for most of my life. While I now genuinely enjoy cooking for the people I love, experimenting with recipes, and creating comforting meals, my relationship with food hasn’t always been a positive one.

    During my teenage years, while living in youth homeless shelters and housing commission units, food was survival. There wasn’t always regular access to meals, and often the only food available came from food banks or charity vouchers – $30 a week is all I had. I learnt very early how to make meals out of almost nothing – plain rice and frozen mixed vegetables became a very normal dinner.

    And when there wasn’t food, I drank black tea. Even now, I still can’t smell tea without feeling an intense  sense of déjà vu attached to those years.

    When I entered adulthood and started working, food became more accessible, but my relationship with it shifted in unhealthy ways. I started binge eating and became quite wasteful with food – almost as though having access to it suddenly meant I didn’t know how to regulate it anymore. And I ate all of the unhealthy foods. Now food became something I spent more money on each week than rent and other bills.

    When I became a parent, being able to consistently provide healthy and nutritious meals for my children became something I felt incredibly proud of. I worked really hard to role model good eating habits. And even though they’ve always had stability around food, the scars from my own experiences never fully disappeared. Somewhere along the way, I found comfort in unhealthy eating habits myself.

    I would “sneak” cheeseburgers in the car on the way home from work, before sitting down to dinner with the kids later that night. After they went to bed, I would binge eat simply for the sake of eating – not from hunger, but from something emotional that I didn’t understand. I felt dirty the more I ate, but I couldn’t stop myself from eating.

    Through therapy, I’ve recently learnt just how deeply food insecurity sits on my trigger list. Working through this with my psychologist using EMDR therapy has been incredibly life-changing, helping me process experiences I didn’t even realise were still driving so many of my behaviours.

    For me, food has been many things – survival, comfort, distraction, connection. But without healthy boundaries, I’ve often used it in ways that were never nourishing me.

    While I do have weight loss goals that I’m working toward, this item on my list isn’t really about dieting. It’s about repairing my relationship with food.

    So this year, I’m trying one new recipe every month – learning to bring joy back into healthy eating again, finding balance, and building a healthier understanding of moderation and nourishment.

    So far, we’ve tried a few viral recipes that the kids have absolutely loved. And honestly, that’s been one of the best parts – creating healthier relationships with food together while being a little adventurous along the way.

    I wouldn’t say I’m fully healed yet, but I am making intentional steps toward building strong and consistent habits. Habits that ensure food is no longer something I use to punish myself with, but something that nourishes me – and something connected to joy, connection, and the conversations shared around the dinner table.

    🤍 K

  • 40 Things to Do Before I Turn 40 (10)

    40 Things to Do Before I Turn 40 (10)

    10. Write a blog

    Writing a blog was originally something I planned to do at the very end of this journey. The idea was that once the year was over, once I’d done the healing and processed all the emotions, I would sit down and release it all in one final piece.

    But somewhere along the way, the words started arriving earlier than expected.

    The more intentional I became with my routines, my healing, and the changes I was making in my life, the more I found myself writing. Entire blog posts would form in my head while driving, walking, or lying awake at night – almost as though I was trying to explain to myself why I was doing all of this in the first place.

    It wasn’t some huge, dramatic awakening. It was quieter than that.

    I just noticed that once I started putting the words down, they kept flowing.

    I filled handwritten notebooks with thoughts and reflections. I typed endlessly. In spare moments, I’d open the notes app on my phone and quickly write down whatever was sitting on my heart before it disappeared again. My voice memo folder started overflowing with ideas – reflections, processing, reckonings with myself that I could no longer keep quiet in my own mind.

    This blog is very honest, very open, and very me.

    It has become part of the way I’m moving forward in life – intentionally creating distance between myself and old memories, old versions of me, and feelings I no longer want to carry in silence. Writing has been cathartic. My trauma feels less trapped inside my body when it exists on paper instead.

    I’ve also been incredibly supported throughout this process by my beautiful psychologist, who gently reminds me to feel the feelings, honour them, but then put them down again instead of living inside them forever.

    This blog is part of something bigger that I’m quietly working toward and hoping to finish this year too. But for now, these are simply my musings – pieces of myself scattered across pages.

    I don’t expect my words to heal anyone else or change lives in some dramatic way. This is ultimately for me. But if someone reads it and feels seen, understood, or a little less alone, then that’s a beautiful bonus too.

    We’re officially a quarter of the way through my 40 things now – still so much more to come.

    But if there’s one thing this process is teaching me, it’s that consistency and intentionality really do change a life, little by little.

    🤍 K

  • 40 Things to do – Before I turn 40 (9)

    40 Things to do – Before I turn 40 (9)

    9. Get a new Tattoo

    This one doesn’t come with a deep, emotional backstory. There’s no big meaning, no life-altering moment behind it – I just wanted a new tattoo.

    And honestly, that in itself felt like enough.

    These little dinosaurs are now my 13th tattoo, and the truth is, I chose them simply because they’re cute. No overthinking, no analysing, no searching for symbolism – I just liked them.

    Which, for me, is a bit of a shift. Because most of my other tattoos carry meaning. I have my children’s  names as monograms, pieces that represent different stages of my life, a cover-up of a tattoo I got at 17 that definitely didn’t age well, my favourite flower – (peonies for anyone who wants to buy me flowers 😂) and even a “tiny dancer,” inspired by my favourite singer. 

    Each one tells a story. But not this one.  This one is different.

    When I created my “40 things to do before 40” list, I knew there were going to be heavy, emotional, and meaningful things on it – things that required reflection, growth, and healing. But I also knew that I needed balance.

    I didn’t want the whole list to feel like work. I wanted space for fun. For spontaneity. For doing things just because I could, without needing to justify it or talk myself out of it. And that’s exactly what this was.

    A complete whim. A walk-in appointment, which is something I’ve never done before, I have a regular tattoo artist who has done all my other pieces.  There was no planning, no long decision-making process – just a moment of “why not?”

    My kids did choose the dinosaurs, which adds a small layer of meaning in itself, but even that wasn’t the point. The point was letting go a little. Letting go of the need for everything to be deep or purposeful. Letting go of overthinking. Letting myself do something a little bit silly, a little bit impulsive, and completely just for me.

    Because not everything has to carry weight to be worthwhile. Sometimes, it’s okay to just have fun.

    So here they are – my slightly ridiculous, very cute dinosaurs. A reminder that life doesn’t always have to be so serious… and that sometimes, the best decisions are the ones you don’t overthink at all.

    🤍 K 

  • 40 Things to do – Before I turn 40 (8)

    40 Things to do – Before I turn 40 (8)

    8. Write a will

    In 2019, after years of persistent period pain and what was meant to be a routine check, I was told I had precancerous cells growing in my uterus.

    What followed for the next 2 years was uncertainty, fear, and constant medical intervention. Every three months, I underwent surgeries to have the cells removed, hoping each time that it would be enough. But with each procedure came the same outcome – more cells, they were multiplying. 

    By 2021, the situation had escalated. The cells had not only multiplied through my uterus, after being removed just 3 months prior, but they had now begun moving to my cervix, and the only option left was a hysterectomy.

    At just 36 It was a lot to carry. I didn’t have any frame of reference, I didn’t understand what it all meant. 

    Through every surgery, every appointment, every moment of waiting, there was one thought that never really left me: What would happen to my kids if something happened to me? That question stayed with me long after the surgeries were over.

    The hysterectomy went well, I quietly battled the thought I couldn’t have anymore children, but I made peace with it. 

    In the years that followed, health anxiety became something I quietly battled. Every symptom felt bigger than it was, every change in my body carried weight, and my mind would often spiral to the worst-case scenario before I had time to ground myself in reality.

    And always, I came back to the same thought—
    I don’t have a will.

    Last year, while writing my “40 things to do before 40” list, that thought became louder. It wasn’t something I could keep putting off. It sat there, heavy and unresolved, tied not just to fear – but to responsibility. I couldn’t put it off, because if something ever did happen to me, I needed to know that my children would be okay.

    At the start of this year, those fears resurfaced in a very real way. I began experiencing constant headaches, along with vertigo so intense that at times it was difficult to even walk. What started as concern quickly escalated into a series of medical appointments—brain CT scans, blood tests, new medications—all within a short space of time.  I couldn’t keep up, to everything that was happening.  Even my GP was concerned, because the symptoms were real, physical, and persistent.

    And in between all of that, there was the waiting.

    Sitting alone in medical waiting rooms, waiting for tests, waiting for results, waiting for my name to be called, waiting for answers. Those moments felt incredibly heavy. The silence gave too much space for my thoughts to run, and I found myself spiralling deeper into fear.

    It didn’t help that people around me were also facing serious health battles, and some losing them. The things I was being tested for were no longer abstract – they were real, and close, and confronting.

    I would sit there, overwhelmed, thinking about my children. Worrying about their future. Wondering who would be there for them. Thinking about how they would cope—emotionally, physically, financially.

    Thankfully, I came out the other side of it. I’m okay. I’m managing things with the support of medication, and I remind myself every day that I’m okay – because sometimes that reassurance is the only thing that quiets the noise in my mind.

    Health anxiety is very real. It’s often misunderstood, sometimes dismissed, and too easily labelled. But until you experience how it takes hold of your thoughts, your body, and your nervous system, it’s hard to fully explain the weight of it. But in the middle of all of that, I did something important. I wrote my will.

    It wasn’t as overwhelming as I had built it up to be. In fact, once it was done, it brought a sense of relief I didn’t realise I needed. It’s something I’ll continue to update as life changes and as my children’s needs evolve, but having it in place has taken away a layer of fear that had been sitting quietly in the background for years. It gave me space to breathe.

    It’s one less “what if” sitting on the pile of things that feel unfinished.

    And more than anything, it gave me a sense of security – knowing that I’ve done something to protect my children and their future, no matter what.

    If there’s one thing I would say to anyone reading this, it’s this:

    • Take the time.
    • Protect your family.
    • Protect what you’ve built.
    • Give yourself that peace of mind

    It’s easy to do – and it’s incredibly important to have in place! 

    🤍 K 

  • 40 Things to do – Before I turn 40 (7)

    40 Things to do – Before I turn 40 (7)

    7. Child free time with my mum friends (social connections)

    Whilst reflecting and writing my “40 things to do before I turn 40” list, one thing kept coming up again and again – social time.

    It’s something that, for a long time, I didn’t prioritise, not because I didn’t value it, but because life naturally pulled me in other directions.

    As a single mum raising my children on my own, my focus has always been on them – on making sure they were safe, supported, and had everything they needed to grow into who they are becoming. Between working, parenting, and carrying the full weight of responsibility day in and day out, there often wasn’t much left to give beyond that.

    I am incredibly fortunate to have some truly amazing friends who have stood by me through all of my seasons of life, the highs, the lows, and everything in between. These are the people who have seen the real, unfiltered version of me, who have held space for me when things were heavy, and who have celebrated with me in the moments that mattered.

    But if I’m being honest, social connection has been one of the hardest things for me to maintain.

    Since becoming a mum almost 19 years ago, it was one of the first things to quietly fall away. Time, energy, and capacity became limited, and naturally, my children became my priority in every sense of the word.

    Being naturally introverted has also played a part. I have always found social situations overwhelming at times, and forming new connections hasn’t come easily to me. Add in social anxiety, my “tism’s,” and the constant pull of responsibility, and over time my circle became smaller.

    But it also became more intentional, more meaningful, and deeply valued.

    The friendships I have – whether they were formed through motherhood, through different stages of my life, or completely separate from it – are all equally important to me. And while my circle may not be large, it is filled with people who I genuinely care about and want to stay connected to.

    This year, I have made a conscious effort not only to maintain those friendships, but to nurture them.

    That means regular messages, check-ins, making time for calls, and being more intentional about showing up, even in small ways. Because connection doesn’t always have to be big or planned- it can be found in consistency, in effort, and in simply letting someone know they matter.

    Last year, I made one small but significant step in creating space for connection in my life.

    I reached out to two incredible women I met over 11 years ago, back when our kids first started playing netball together, and I asked if they would be open to committing to something simple but consistent – a monthly catch-up. A dedicated time where we could step away from the demands of motherhood, work, and everyday life, and just spend time together.

    Thankfully for me, they said yes.

    And that one small decision has turned into something really special.

    So far this year, we’ve shared cocktail brunches, slow breakfasts, and nights out filled with laughter, with many more plans still to come. It’s not about doing anything extravagant, but about the consistency of showing up – for each other and for ourselves.

    That once-a-month time has become something I genuinely look forward to, because it gives me space to reconnect with who I am outside of being a mum, outside of work, and outside of the responsibilities that usually define my days.

    It’s a reminder that I am allowed to just be. To laugh, to relax, to talk about things beyond schedules and to-do lists, and to feel like one of the girls again.

    What started as a simple connection through our children’s sport has grown into a beautiful and supportive friendship, one that feels grounded, easy, and genuine.

    And alongside that, I am continuing to nurture the other friendships in my life – the ones that have been there through different chapters, and continue to grow alongside me.

    Because connection, in all its forms, matters. And I truly couldn’t feel luckier to have that in my life.

    🤍 K