The Cost of Independence
Because no matter how carefully I arrange the furniture of my independence, someone else always holds the key.
Because no matter how carefully I arrange the furniture of my independence, someone else always holds the key.
My strongest childhood memories are not of places but of Sunday lunches: paprika-scented kitchens, opera drifting through open windows, and my father’s stories unfolding around the table.
Sometimes the most important intervention is not a medication or a procedure, but belief. This story reflects on illness, autonomy, and the GP who listened when others would not.
Sometimes the safest way to survive is not to be seen. A story of migration, belonging, and the strategies we develop to protect ourselves.
A poem written in my late teens about captivity, fear, and survival. Years later, it revealed a meaning I could never have imagined when I first wrote it.
We are all shaped by stories – those we inherit, those we tell, and those we are still learning to understand. Read Me is an invitation to consider the experiences, memories, and histories that sit beneath the method.