I often sit and wonder, how did I get this far? How did I become this person?
People tell me I moulded my own path, some say that God has a plan for my life and every decision I make is already written in His book. I think I’m still learning how to make those decisions, and my teachers are not my people.

My teachers are love and loss. That magical moment of seeing someone and, consciously or not, deciding that you would like to get to know them better. And the grief of losing someone that means everything to you. My teachers hurt me and heal me as many times as it takes for me to make the right decision. My ever patient teachers.

I’m still loving and still losing and still growing and still changing, and my teachers are changing with me. From the childish love of a school crush to the mature love of a committed partner and expectant child. From the too-young-to-understand grief of losing my mum to the pain that tears my fragile body apart when I lose those closest to me.

My love, my loss, my teachers.