So I Google how to stop fading into the background.

Because it’s something that I can’t stop from happening.

No matter what I do, even if I try something different. I always seem to somehow disappear.

I’m always overlooked. It’s sad and I am really trying my best to stand out, but it just keeps happening.

So I’m working on a plan to never go unnoticed again.

My grand scheme starts today. No one will ever skip over my name again. I will be the first thing that they think about when they wake and the last thing before they sleep.

I will be the mighty one this time.

I hit the search button and sit back scanning website after website after website.



My heart was a flutter. My mouth dry. I could smell him from all the way over here in my corner. His scent was so intoxicating, it had sandalwood tones. My absolute fave.

Would he look my way? All he needed to do was turn 47 degrees to his left and he would be face to face with his future wife. The love of his life. All he needed to do, was turn around. Just turn around. It was so easy. I was all the way over here in my little corner and he didn’t even know it.

It was a shame really, a mighty mighty shame. 

Just a simple turn and both of our dreams would come true. But it’s like something inside of him was compelling him not to, it’s like he wanted to enjoy a sad and boring life without me in it. But it was cool, I would wait. I would wait until the end of time.

The lift came to a stop and the doors sprang open,  he stepped outside and within seconds he was gone, out of my life. The doors closed and continued upwards. His scent still lingered, a faint shadow of him. 

Oh well, there was always tomorrow I smiled to myself.


The smell of weed and uncleanness tickled my nose.

My gag reflectors went into overdrive.

Why was personal hygiene something that some people felt the need to neglect?

I pulled my jacket up to my nose trying to censor the smell. This was why I took the bus, if in doubt crank a window open and dash the smell outside where it belonged.

The train jolted and the man’s arm swiped past my face. I engulfed a whiff of his rancid armpit. It was so strong that I could taste it.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head. This was enough. This was the final straw, I was tired of doing the stiff upper lip thing and being polite. I was suffering. I had actually felt my stomach lurch as his body odour came into contact with my tastebuds.

I started to make my way to the opposite side of the carriage. Bodies became obstacles as I battled my way towards my intended destination.

This journey was way too long to have to deal with this torture. The sad thing was that it was still only morning. How and why did he smell so bad?

I wasn’t a bad person. Not really. I wasn’t really one to judge but how could you allow yourself to smell that bad.

The train came to a stop and a flood of people got off. A seat came into view and I sat down, feeling as pleased as punch. Triumphant, I selected my champion song and smiled to myself.

Before the second line of the song had even started, a familiar scent waved a unwelcome hello.

It was him. He had followed me down the train. I stared at the floor wanting it to open up and take me away from this pain. The seat next to me was free and he took it. His legs stretching super wide so I was bunched in. I was trapped. This was hell.


His eyes hungrily scanned my body. I allowed my own eyes to travel skywards and turned around. As if, I silently tutted to myself.

I was seriously getting tired of men treating me like a piece of meat.

Who was I kidding on most days I craved attention. If a guy didn’t look my way then I was clearly not good enough and a hundred per cent ugly.

But then again, I still didn’t want to be treated as if all I was here for was the attention of men.

I was so confused.

Which wasn’t untypical of me.

I was almost always confused.

I really needed to stop allowing men’s opinions on me to give me some form of validation. I clearly needed to love myself a lot more.

I continued to cling onto the pole, attempting to hold myself up whilst the bus driver continued his practice for his next stunt job.

My body jerked and contorted in many different positions as I tried to cling on for dear life.

I really needed to start getting on the train. But the thought of the extra £3 odd pound I had to shell out brought me out in a bout of imaginary hives.

I just had to make it through the day and I would be free to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the week.

A tap to the shoulder broke me free of my positivity chant.

It was him.

I silently sighed and blinded him with my faux killowatt smile. I entertained him for the next 15 minutes as he went on about his toy car collection that he had been building since he had his first kids meal from McDonald’s when he first arrived in the country. I even hit him with some fake life stories of my own.

His number somehow found its way into my phone and mine into his. Why oh why did I feel compelled to give it to him. It was going straight into the block list. I really had to stop doing that.

Once my stop came up I bounded from my seat and without a word of goodbye I got off the bus.

I just had to make it through today I reminded myself. Just a few short hours and I was free.


Summer was well and truly over. The trees shed their last leaves as if fallen tears.

I pulled my coat around me, trying to get as much heat and comfort into my body as possible.

Winter was my favourite season, until it came and then I hated it. I hated the rain, the coldness, the unpredictability of it all.

I wanted nothing more than to be warm and toasty and snuggled up under my 15 tog duvet.

Damn Sandra for getting me out on a Monday night. Monday nights were for mourning the weekend, not for actually doing things.

Regret began to flood out of me as soon as I had agreed. Why oh why had I agreed?

I pushed open the door to the pub and rubbed my hands together. Scanning the room for her.

Her bountiful locks of brown and black, were the first things to greet me, before she looked up and drew me in with her kilowatt smile.

I loved her really, no matter how many times she annoyed me. I really did love her.

She beckoned me to sit down next to her and handed me a glass filled to the brim with cider. She knew me too well. Come rain, come shine, nothing made me feel better than a good old glass of cider.

I placed the glass to my lips and allowed the appley goodness to slide down my throat.

This was pure and utter heaven.

A tall woman with bright blonde hair, climbed the steps to and announced the start of the mixer.

As the first potential bachelor of the night made his way towards me. I rolled my eyes to the sky and shakes an imaginary fist.


I stared at him. My mouth agape.

He repeated it, a small devilish smile flicked across his face.

Small little lighting bolts began to bubble deep inside of me. I felt my cheeks flush.

I was furious. If he thought I was a handful before, he hadn’t seen anything yet.

I got up from my seat, extended my arm and slapped him hard across his check. So hard, that his eyes bulged out and the cut of steak that he had been chewing on for what felt like a decade, flew out of his mouth and went skidding across the floor.

The hubbub of chatter that had been the soundtrack to this short and extremely unpleasant evening, came to an abrupt stop.

People trying their hardest, but not hard enough to pretend that they weren’t trying to find out what the cause of the slap was.

I picked up my bag and without giving him a look, I made my way towards the door. Bitch I heard him mumble as I my hand reached out the open it.

I stopped.

I hated that word. It stung.

Slowly I turned around and marched back over to him. I picked up the bottle of 1985 or whatever year it was and poured the whole thing over him.

A river of red flowed across his crops white shirt. His hands flailing about him, as he spluttered.

I dropped the bottle letting it crash to the floor and continued on with my exit.

Blind dates sucked.


The shrill sound of a miaow awakened me from my trancelike state.

The grey furball jumped down from its ledge and proceeded to attack me with its vocal onslaught.

It began to weave in and out of my legs, threatening to trip me up.

Usually I was a sucker for a cat and would’ve happily entertained it. But today was not a usual day.

I was hangry and a day spent squaring off with a computer screen had not done anything to make matters any better.

My pace quickened but the blasted thing continued to follow.

I crossed the road, and yep you guessed it, the blasted thing followed suit.

For the next couple of minutes a game of zig zag ensued. Me this giant human trying to out run a small feline. It just wouldn’t let up.

Trust me to have a bloody stalker.

I guess I should’ve felt flattered. That a cat found me worthy of following.

The icicles that covered my heart slowly began to melt as it continued to cry out for attention.

I stopped and squatted down. My hand stretched and stroked.

The cat arched it back and make a pleasurable purring sound. Then as quickly as it had begun to follow me, it turned around and sprinted off.

I chuckled to myself as I stood up.

All it had wanted was a little bit of TLC.


There was no better feeling than sitting on the toilet.

When you were on the toilet there was no room for worrying about bothersome issues. No space for urgencies.

No the toilet was a sanctuary.

A place to relax, to escape from others and be by yourself.

You could sit on the toilet for ages. Plotting new ideas. Creating comebacks and responses to things not yet said. Giggling silently to jokes that only you found funny.

The toilet was the place for soaking up news, for learning new things, becoming an amateur chemist by learning the names of different chemicals on toilet cleaners and airfreshners.

You could catch up with old friends, by tap tapping out messages that you didn’t have time to get back to.

Soaking up gossip and entertaining yourself by counting tiles.

But the best thing of all, was the time to have a break, a breather a pause from the hustles and bustles of life.

Just to sit there and be.


Why was he still sitting next to me? There were plenty of empty seats. In fact every single seat except ours was free.

Alarm bells started ringing inside of me. This did not feel right.

I was going to have to move. I didn’t feel comfortable. At all.

But I had so many bags and I was the one who had sat down here first. Why should I have to be the one to move?

I shot death glares at the back of his balding head, but he continued to sit.

Defeated, I got up and moved away. He looked up at me a pained expression on his face.

I didn’t give two shits. Who was he to me, nothing but a stranger who didn’t get social cues and the unwritten rules of bus etiquette.


I was flaming.

The bus finally moved onto my stop and I got off. Not before giving him the dirtiest look.

I felt like I was 10ft tall as I walked towards my house.

I was not going to let anyone make me uncomfortable.


The pain was tearing through me.

Who told me to go and fast myself and eat something that my body couldn’t handle.

I could feel the uncomfortable feeling of bubbles begin to form in my stomach.

This was far from what I needed.

The meeting continued to slug on. I moved uncomfortably around my seat. Every now and then glancing at the clock.

Why did a minute feel like an hour when you wanted to leave?

I wanted to cry. I wanted to stand up and scream for everyone to fuck off.

This was so unfair. Why did things like this happen to me.

The meeting finally ended and I raced out of the room.

The sweet sensation of relief was a reward I couldn’t wait to experience.