For two years, I had the privilege of dating a wonderful young man. This is the letter I wrote him but never sent - redrafted with added years of hindsight (which, as we all know, is 20/20). It's about love, and remorse, and theft, and getting things totally, totally wrong.
For the disciples, the hours must have seemed like eons. The day after Jesus' death was the day everything looked like it had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Holy Saturday is the day when the disciples are waiting, and God doesn't show.
How do you reconcile the different sorts of love? How do you risk loving someone you depend on? How do you deal with the constant confusion of desperation and gratitude?
Want to know more about chronic pelvic pain, self-help, and vaginas more generally? Of course you do. Here's my entirely-not-definitive list of useful articles, books and even the odd video.
For about seven years now, I have lived with a dirty secret. When it first came to my attention aged 17, I kept it to myself, letting it rot inside me and making me feel utterly freakish and disgusting.
One of the best things that has happened to me since leaving full-time education is that I have rediscovered the joy of reading. In this extended piece, I look back on the books of 2016 and how they reflect my personal growth.
2016 has not been my worst year. 2014 was the year that truly taught me how to deal with feeling small. Finals, heartbreak, losing family, losing myself. As I look back on these trying times, I share what I've learned about practising gratitude and keeping hope alive.
As a self-identifying Ravenclaw, when my colleagues first drew attention to my Hufflepuffly qualities, I was a little - well, deflated. Then I took the Pottermore test (which everyone knows is LAW), and by Merlin's Beard, it came up with the same results. Hufflepuff. The blooming badger, for crying out loud.
As anyone with chronic pain will tell you, sometimes the huge effort it takes to do little things, like make a cup of tea or shower, really grinds you down. So when something big comes up, it can really knock you for six. Like, for example, having to make the significant decision to quit your Master’s degree because you’re not well enough to finish it.
WARNING. DO NOT READ THIS ARTICLE IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH ABOUT FEMALE BODIES AND/OR DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MINE AND/OR ARE MY DAD.