This Is Me

One year. That's is how long I had waited to... Do I dare to imagine it... sleep in? I must admit I was a little ahead of myself; imagining lots of excitement and cuddles from my beautiful son! 23 years old. 11th September. At 5:30am. A poohy nappy and grumpy son. I swayed. Last night’s wine raring it’s ugly head. Voices sang. Apparitions? Appreciated? Of course! But at 5:30 in the morning Satan literally bakes space cakes inside my skull! Two coffees and two Weetabix later, I'd perked up enough to realize that I was being ignored. By my own son! I Danced. I played with his toys. I moved in for a kiss, only for an evil hand to appear in my face and push me out of his way. Bully. I gawped at him. Only for him to turn and smile angelically at my mum. I stuck my nose in the air and gave up. Who needs attention on their birthday anyway? Me. That's who. I sulked as the kettle clicked for a third coffee. A creamy one this time. At least "me" is pleasant to "

This dark cloud lingers over my bed, There are words I want to say just Running through my head. They crash. They collide. They cut me up inside. I want to voice my feelings, But my feelings make me cry. - This pierced body talks, with fabulous intent. With tattoos spiraling full Of confident consent. It's lying. It's wishing. It's full of dream ambition, This artwork is my first full draft, Of one girl's hard transition. - Tablets are an option, To help with fighting back, But I must not be labelled when I can pull through most attacks. It's frightening. It's frustrating, Listening to other's slating. When the body wants to leave The mind so bravely shy, It's like living in a world, in which one must live a lie. - My anxiety, it controls me. Sometimes it has a hold on me, It leads to all decisions. Self harm, Weight obsession, No friends and depression. Anxiety, it's confusing. Coughing on words and lines That I write so easily. Who

Her warm outdoor coat, And her beautiful feet, His woolly thick coat, To add extra heat. Her wobbly legs, And instinct to flee, Are those the animals, That you see? She's feeding her young, He's guarding her side, She nuzzles his nose, His head high with pride. She feeds on the grass, Peace present in her life. We shouldn't rip her babies, Out of her life. She plays with her mother, Jumping with glee, Compared to a tummy, The wild is so free. She wants to grow up, Strong like daddy, And taste the fresh grass, It's cool on her knees. She has beautiful eyes, And a soft brown coat, Her tail sways, And her shadow floats, Children watch with complete awe, As baby stumbles to the floor, Yet stands again, clumsy and tall, Nothing deters baby, Not even a fall. So let them stand, upon those hills, And let them play among the dew, Let them live until old age, Don't ever take their rights away. Would you snatch a human from its life,

It is quite incredible how a version of life can begin. Mine personally began in a rented, mold-ridden two bedroom house in Cleethorpes, with very little money and very steep stairs. Whilst I was living there I didn't realize just how much it has meant to me. I painted every room in the house right up until I was nine months pregnant. I changed it from a lifeless house into a home absolutely brimming with love. I still pass it every weekday, on my way to work. I still glance at my door. My sign still hangs there. No junk mail . I could once open that door and on my wooden floor would lay a mat, to wipe our feet on those cold winter days. I bought it during pregnancy. It read, "little monster lives here". The mud marks on that mat would never quite come off. They irritated me. How I miss my mat. I used to walk through the hall, it was cold, but now painted a beautiful mint and purple. I wanted my house to be bright, like a rainbow. Full of happiness. Every ro

Criminal mummy! I stomped around the house wondering if I could pull off "chav mum". "I've got this!" I thought to myself. Diego, my 2 year old teenager gawped at me as I threw my weight around the house, growling at him every so often to complete my new look. If he could roll his eyes, that's what he'd be doing. I pulled on my joggers and showed off my tattoos and piercings. I even attempted the shaved head look with some braids. I felt pretty great. Looking in the mirror had never been a pastime of mine, but I gazed at my new reflection eagerly. That's me! Due to the huge amount of media I had found myself consuming lately, I had been worrying about turning into some kind of violent, gobby criminal. If I lost sleep over anything, this would be it. The older generation that I know had expanded my knowledge on the topic. And that meant that I was going to undergo some terrible, hell-rising transformation over night! I kissed one o

I have never been the type to judge. Everyone has a story. The wise say few words. Living by this concept, I observe quietly. Part of that is my anxiety. The other part is my lack of whit. If I fire back what I think is a funny reply, it's usually not very funny at all. Apart from to me. I think I'm hilarious. To my shock I desperately fought a giggle when a lady tripped up. Whilst walking towards me down the street, she ‘Olympic long jump’ style rugby tackled uneven pavement. I stifled my laugh like a pro, secretly wondering whether I was turning into a monster or developing a much more normal sense of  humour . I looked away, pretending I hadn't seen a thing. Simply put, toddlers have no concept of holding back. So whilst I politely refrained from drawing attention to the lady, Diego began laughing hysterically from his pushchair below me. Within a few seconds I had processed different distraction techniques, ways in which I could re-direct the giggling else

The Flight I dawdled as I made my way towards the plane. I couldn't wait to go on holiday, don't get me wrong. But the four hour journey with Diego was a decision I was quickly changing my mind about. He'd already cried throughout the car journey. He'd also screamed his way through customs. I was wondering what alcohol they served by 9 in the morning. Promising Diego that we would be moving soon, I swept confidently through the metal detecting machines, I'd already planned ahead for this. Nothing metal on us! Then we bleeped. They searched me. I had to get my feet out. I hate feet. And then Diego. Diego did not like being searched. I’d soon given up the pleading looks I had been throwing my parents. They grinned back like Cheshire cats. Or Dementors, draining my soul. It seemed to be flashing between the two, depending on the noise level escaping Diego. The flight was a joy… on the scale of almost as enjoyable as how many times I ha

Toddler Turrets Surviving baffles me. People make it through tough times and stand for something incredible. I look up to those people. I admire them. They smile, laugh and fight. Then there is me. Who saw an owl flying in the moonlight, stroked a wallaby for the first time and saw two shooting stars… I’m tearing up like I’m about to have a nervous breakdown… I’m wondering how long it will be before my sniffles feel the effects of toddler tantrums, and when they will rub off on me. Will it really be that long until I join my son on the floor screaming down the beans isle? Security will have me arrested for disruption! I will explain what a bad influence my son is. Before attempting to continue my shopping as if nothing had occurred… the copycat replica of my own toddler’s behaviour. My tears will turn into smiles and I will shout “no!” at every stranger that as much as glances my way. I will call it “toddler turrets” when questioned by officers. No doubt I will prob

It returns Just as it had walked away. There are dead ends now, From so many different ways. Shes black and white now. Where once there had been green. She was forced to let go. Of who she wants to be. Yet she's back. Standing right there. With colour in her lips And wind blowing Through her hair. She's strong. Just as it had turned away, She armed herself, And fought it anyway. The battle took place, Within her complex mind. She fell. Then she stood. Time after time. Boneata Bell

Judged So many people want me dead.  I can see that just by their rolling eyes. It's not my fault I have a one and a half year old teenager. He's screaming. He's fighting my hold. Whilst my mother casually purchases floor cleaner. Pretending she isn’t with me. I scowl at her. To everyone's horror I nearly drop my son. I battle to keep him away from the shelves. It's my turn to roll my eyes. He's basically Hulk Hogon. I decide to leave the store. It's my safest option. Diego begins to calm down. I’m thrilled with my fantastic parenting decision. Boneata 1 – judgmental, probably childless strangers Nil.  A lady approaches me. Probably full of pity for the struggling parent, she gives her biggest smile towards Diego and says "aren't you absolutely lovely?” I panic. Well I try to panic but I hardly even have a second to initialize my panicking before my son begins to shake his head hysterically and shouts "No!&qu

Toddler Attack I placed my darling son in his playpen as I battled to keep my eyes open. I never wanted to be one of these parents who chose a quick way out; I vowed to constantly entertain my child with educational games and stories. Yet, after another early morning wakeup call and a couple of hours at work I was ready to drop. I faltered, nearly losing my balance. So I piled up his playpen with safe toys to keep him occupied and proceeded to sprawl across the carpet in front of the fire. My boy was safe. Now I could nap... It took me 40 minutes before I finally began to drift… I felt a sharp pain hit me in the face and was sure I had been blinded as I attempted to open my eyes. I searched for the weapon that had almost knocked me out. My giggling toddler stood watching me, at least three metres away. His instrument of choice lay by my feet. As I came to terms with the fact that my son had attempted to attacked me, that he must be the next world class baseball player, a

Tumbling Into a New Hobby I attempted to show off. It was a very bad idea. My boyfriend waved as I left. What better way to look "fit" than to jog to your car, right...? I've been going to the gym for four months now and decided that I had more than likely seen the back of my weak ankles. They'd had plenty of training. So I flicked my hair gracefully and began. My left ankle clicked. I had a chat with my brain. "No, you can do this, you have this one covered". I spurred them on. I felt my right ankle click. I didn’t even start to panic yet. It should have been at this point that I did, yet I continued to run. I'm not quite sure when it finally registered… at the point where I began to lose control of my feet and began a frantic moonwalk style fall, or where I sat on the floor in the middle of the wet path with my legs crossed underneath myself, or even when a bus full of people glided past during the whole thing... But at some point I real

Lessons Christmas is magical when you have children. Nothing compares to watching my son, with a beautiful smile on his face as he charges at his presents. However, with celebrations also brings company… Company and Diego just do not mix. So by 7pm on Christmas day, I had been left with a very hyperactive one year old who had publically named his nana a ‘smellybum’, during celebratory drinks. Despite numerous attempts to control chocolate consumption, there is always one family member that doesn’t quite catch the rules. So it didn’t come as a surprise when, until midnight, Diego was dancing and giggling at me as I ‘played asleep’ next to him, zoning in and out of my own state of exhausted unconsciousness because I was awake past nine o’clock. In an attempt to start as I mean to go on, I began to read, explaining to my darling son the very meaning of Christmas. I ended up with my hair pulled through the bars of the cot and chewed bible pages. As that put that goal on hold fo

Mastering Evolution There is nothing as perfect as seeing your child take their first steps. On Thursday 26 th November Diego did just that. He took four wobbles across my bedroom floor and fell right into my arms. It resulted in some hyperactive screaming and wiggly dancing (from me). It is incredible watching a baby grow into an intelligent little toddler. I closed my eyes for just a second too long and a beautiful boy had taken the place of my baby. I closed them again and my independent little man had become my cuddly, clingy and caring prince. Science baffles me. Because it is so beautiful there isn’t a lot that it cannot explain. Evolution has resulted in children developing much more quickly. Our understanding of how to teach them is improving and their skills are growing. Our children are becoming brainboxes. They can work technology before they can walk. It is incredible. It is terrifying. I believe that is what frightens the entire population. Sometimes

The first thing I notice, Is the strange silence, In comparison to the Deafening ringing inside of My ears. Then the coughing. It seems so loud, Nearby. Choking neighbours, strangers. Linked together now. Never again someone I had never locked Eyes with. I scan my body. I hear screams. Children. It distracts me. Somewhere. It kills me. They are close. Yet far away maybe. I cannot imagine their faces. Yet I try. Then I try not too. My eyes adjust. I'm left with, Literally, No questions to ask. I have no words. Or feelings. Despite my once Opinionated mind. My legs have gone. It's as simple, And complicated As that. They aren't there. I look for them. I don't see them. I've lost them. I slouch and wonder if They were ever there. Boneata Bell 01/04/2016

Love is interesting. Yet what I find even more interesting than love are those moments before you realise that you are in love, and the breath-taking impact that they can potentially make or break your whole relationship. We are talking about right at the beginning of course, not those moments hereafter where the case has been closed, the agreement has been reached, a mutual devotion has been settled. No, I'm talking about the first few weeks, or days, or hours if you believe in love at first site. Those crucial fragments. Does love appear from a few single acts of absolute beauty, or do they merge over time? Can you pinpoint the exact moment that you realised that you were in love with somebody? If you can, what do you think would have happened if that moment ceased to have existed? Would you love them now? Would you love them at all? Or would you still be pondering friendship in limbo? Or would you be simply waiting for that next make or break moment? I believe, as humans,

When she opened her eyes it was like staring into a bubble. Everything around her was distorted. Colours everywhere, like tiny flakes of crystal cluttering her space. She reached out. The texture had changed. If felt like smooth velvet as she ran her hands through the air. All she could do was smile, even if she couldn't understand. She sat for a moment and listened to the birds singing outside. Their song was like a harmony. Panpipes filled her head like buzzing bees on their honey-making journey. She pictured them in her mind's eye, soft, peaceful and elegant. Her mind raced, filling her heart with unconditional love. She gazed at him in front of her. Her veins pulsed as she attempted to interpret her feelings. They seemed so loud inside her skull, she wanted to run to him, fall into his arms and feel his skin against hers. But how could she fall in love so quickly with such a beautiful stranger? She fought it, with all of her might. Afraid. Afraid to love. Afraid to hu