One black eye, a torn ligament and three stitches later, my time inside of Stex has come to an end. I’m struggling to put into words what the last two and a half years has meant to me but I write a blog now so I’m going to try. It’s had its ups and downs don’t get me wrong, but this is a positive reflection because I have never felt anything that compares to putting my arms up at the end of the show so enthusiastically I almost fall off my wheels. This could be a long one.
Where it all began…
On Sunday 5th February 2017 Starlight Express’s new skate school turned up at Heathrow Airport for the ride of our lives. Thankfully I knew a few other trains in training prior to Stex and after touring the UK with Lacy Jordinson and Anthony Starr for six months in Jackie The Musical, we happily sat in Leon hiding from the rest of the cast. I thank you for being selectively social with me from day 1. We then embarked on our journey of becoming German… and more importantly learning to skate.
Trust the process.
Skate school taught by the legend that is Michal Fraley is probably the most incredible, emotional and physical journey I have ever been on. It’s not just rolling on 8 wheels, Michal has a specific starlight training programme, not for the weak hearted/legged. Thank you Fraley for teaching me to bend my knees. And thank you Andrew Miller, our assistant skate coach, for holding my hand almost every exercise. It was outrageously inspiring to wake up each day with 21 other actor- singer- dancers and try to learn not just a new skill, but another means of transport and a necessity of being in the show. The combination of people ranged from noisy Geordies, determined Dutch, freshly graduated musical theatre performers and everything in between. The relationships that developed privately and in ‘the ballet room’ were that of gold. We formed a bond of unconditional support, quite frankly because our mums, dads and loved ones could never quite understand the true frustrations of skate rash, learning German and coccyx bruises.
Friends for life. ❤️
During skate school and rehearsals cliques were of course formed, and I owe remaining vertical, my romance with alcohol and the most wonderful friendship to ‘The Sweeties’. Two Game of Thrones watching lads Darius James and Corey Mitchell joined Lacy, Anthony and I for copious amounts of wine and süßkartoffel pommes. We remained as down to earth as we could whilst scraping each other up off the floor when necessary. Lacy was loud, a comic, and fearless and along with putting herself through the paces she made sure I didn’t let my cautious side get the better of me. There were days when I just didn’t want to, I didn’t want to fall, I didn’t trust my body, the bruises , shaky legs and fear would overwhelm me. Her mentality of ‘just f***ing do it’ made me do it, I literally had no other option. We did it, we counselled each other at the laundrette with multiple Aperol spritzes from our hotel bar and then we conquered skating. Thank you Lacy and Aperol.
As a swing we had all the paper work, we knew what we had to do; but getting our first show was a waiting game. Slowly but surely we all took to the tracks and survived. I wanted no fireworks, no standing ovation, just survival for myself and everyone around me. I have never felt anything like finishing my first show. I also can’t remember most of it as it was a complete blur. I donned Pearl’s pink wig and made it to the end, my legs shook uncontrollably but I was adamant to uphold my calm swing persona. Swinging the show is something pretty special. We’re put on in strange sad circumstances when a fellow cast mate has been injured, but the rush to save the day is like no other. It can also be pretty comical when my Act 2 Pearl is a foot shorter than Act 1’s. The proof of the shows overall difficulty became apparent one weekend when we were so low on male cast members due to injury’s and such things that there was one role with no one to fill it. In my swing hysteria and unconditional want to save the show from being asymmetrical I volunteered as tribute. With 20 minutes to learn the part of Volta, the sassiest male member of the electric train, I donned the cod piece. And I didn’t kill anyone. Added bonus that I fit into the gloriously petite costume some of the male swings could only dream of. #SwingLife
Mein deutsch is nicht so gut.
We were tirelessly taught our German scores for the show, and if you want Starlight in German I can recite (preferably sing) every word. Conversing in real life German situations however proves slightly more difficult. Due to the cast being 95% British, my lack of German schooling and laziness I’ve picked up very little. Most of us will leave knowing the basics and how to order pommes and vin. Despite not thoroughly learning the language I have enjoyed my German living. In our little city called Bochum in North Rhine-Westphalia of Germany value for money is great and we were all able to set up lives for ourselves. If you’re ever in town, head straight to Starlight Express of course and then hit up the mining museum! Germany’s public transport, paperwork and bratwurst seem to be your downfalls but thank you for your beer. You’ll truly be missed.
On the 13th May 2018, the last show of Starlight 17/18 and the last ‘old version’ of the show took place. And who knows? Maybe due to my three month long torn ligament or my love of snacks I was cast to play the last ever Buffy that night. A wonderful part, with a hot dog in her wig, and due to our wonderful 1st cast Buffy’ Serina, flying off a few days early to start a new show, the wheels needed filling. It was a true gift to be part of that show, and I will remember it fur immer.
It was a rollercoaster in more ways than one. We maintained real lives, went through endless swing runs, rehearsals, tears, injuries, long distance relationships, holidays, Instagram takeovers and bottles of wine. And we made it through the year. In May 2018 some of us remained for the cast change and some of our dear friends left for London, Starlight cast ‘17/18 you are all wonderful, Zoe I’m back!
Romance at the roller rink.
Whilst we lost some loved ones we also gained a new batch of skate schoolers. There were some serious corkers amongst them. Some that I truly fell in love with, you know who you are. What happened at the roller rink stays at the roller rink. We created a new show, new songs, new choreography, different races, new characters and costumes. The 30th anniversary version of Starlight Express. We didn’t save lives at Starlight Express but we did try to bring a whole lot of joy. The show flourished in my opinion because of its hero’s, to the cast who worked 12hr rehearsals, to some who played 3 parts at once, to members who came back to help during injury periods, to a very special man from Ireland for being a brave inspiration to us all and for the constant support we all gave to each other.
During this cast changeover and serious courting at the roller rink I fell for a fellow train. Starlight Express was his dream show. And I got a dream guy. My support system, whiskey provider and personal chef. He may have made me stay up until 2am discussing Race 4, I lost him daily at stage door going above and beyond for every fan and I definitely picked 263 tea bags out of our sink but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for being a stunning engine.
The 30 year longevity of the show is mostly down to Steven and Debbie, our resident director and choreographer. Thank you for incredulously noting my Pearl arms. It’s been a true honour to work with them, a well oiled machine and two Starlight legends that live and breath It. ‘Just enjoy it.’ – Debbie Hearnden Mayer.
Starlight Express challenges you physically, mentally, creatively and emotionally and if you’re lucky enough to be cast and brave enough to accept the challenge you’re in for some serious growth. I’ve loved the epic score since watching it for the first time in the West End when I was very young. It also happens to be one of my Dads favourite musicals and the CD remained in our family cars/house until I got the job and played it every drive I took. Thank you Arlene Philips and Andrew Lloyd Webber for casting me in this rollercoaster. Thank you to everyone involved at the halle, as I look back on my time here I thank you for whatever relationship, acquaintanceship or exchange we had as I wouldn’t change it. Every part of the journey got me to where I am now, horizontal on my sofa typing away and beaming at the thought of Starlight Express. For the last 2 and a half years I’ve played my dream roles, plus one male role, on a purpose built arena with the most outrageous group of talented cast mates and musicians supported by some of the most genuine crew and creatives I’ll ever know. An honour.
I personally went through something I once thought I wouldn’t get through. And I doubt anything will compare. Starlight has taught me more about myself than it has about the show, and I was a swing so I know it pretty darn well.
I’m heartbroken but the two and a half year love affair was worth it. And to anyone that steps wheel onto the bühne in the casts to come. Will it be easy? No. Will it be worth it? Absof***inglutely. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. And yes I stacked it on my last ever show.
As Elton John once said… ‘This train don’t stop here anymore…’
This isn’t goodbye it’s thank you.
Once an ugly duckling, I’m currently working on fully fledged swan. I still possess so many of those clumsy, emotional, awkward traits that make me who I am, but thanks to years of ballet lessons, Liz Earle and life experience I’m giving it a go.
So. Let’s go back. I was a premature sickly baby, 5lbs, eczema, asthma and a bout of pneumonia. Followed up by a nasty run in with a watering can aged four. This resulted in me wearing an eye patch, for what felt like eternity. Picture this, my scabs and patch work skin, my giant nude coloured eye patch (skull and cross bones weren’t allowed at school), clutching onto my (you know those inhalers, the big ones you have to squeeze) inhaler. I was also blessed with undecided hair, not straight, not curly just one big mane of fine frizz, finished off with rugby disproportioned thighs on a petite frame. I was a site to behold. Now this is a hugely superficial view, and big big brown eyes were my saving grace. But these were just the little things that got to me, those tiny things that you carry with you from being teased in the playground.
A HUGE part of growing into my own skin has been learning how to look after my skin. The spanner of working at Starlight Express was then thrown in the mix, involving the heaviest duty make up (war paint) I have ever come across. I am by no means vegan, but since investing in primarily natural, vegan and cruelty free products this year my skin has calmed down significantly. Our skin is our only canvas. Time to get it ready for a masterpiece. If you’ve suffered from Eczema, acne or just fancy some self canvas care. Here are my saviours.
My Six Skin Saviours
The Regime. Liz Earle Cleanse & Polish Hot Cloth Cleanse.
The eczema tamer. Eau Thermale Avene XeraCalm Cream.
The make up remover. Bodyshop’s Camomile Fresh Micellar Cleansing Water.
The protection. Bodyshop’s Skin Defence Multi Protection Essence SPF 50.
The mask. Sand and Skye’s Australian Pink Clay Porefining Face Mask.
The zit zapper. The Ordinary’s Salicylic Acid 2% Sollution.
Step 1. Get a regime and let it be Liz Earle.
Liz Earle was a game changer for me. Naturally inspired cruelty free products made from glorious botanical ingredients. The Cleanse & Polish Hot Cloth Cleanser is award winning and I’m an avid fan. It just feels gentle and calming on my skin, it does the job and smells wonderful. In the polluted world we live in today I cleanse twice daily, followed by their toner or exfoliator and finally moisturiser. All the products come in different ranges; normal/combination, dry/sensitive and oily/combination to cater for all skin types.
Fight the flakes.
To all eczema sufferers I salute you. It just isn’t fun. No matter how flakey, itchy or sore you are. My whole body would suffer when I was a child, I’ve slowly grown out of it, reducing my dairy intake has definitely helped, but I still suffer from flare ups on my face, scalp and neck. Probably the thousandth product I researched was Eau Thermale Avene XeraCalm Cream. Made with minimal ingredients to avoid irritation and allergy. It’s made with I-modulia, an ingredient helping to stimulate skin defences reducing itching and redness. It nourishes the dry skin and also helps to replenish the skin barrier.
Stop buying make up wipes.
Make up wipes are pretty much the devil. They’re bad for the environment and they’re harsh on the skin. Micellar waters are my go to and Bobyshop’s Camomile Fresh Micellar Cleansing Water is calming and soothing whilst also removing even the thickest of war paints. Bottle of this loveliness paired with some cotton pads and your canvas is clear.
Don’t have unprotected skin! #SPF
Bodyshops Skin Defence Multi Protection Essence SPF 50 is the highest defence facial moisturiser from Bodyshop protecting us from daily aggressors like the sun to the environment. Sun damage is also the main cause of ageing so the more the merrier (younger)! It’s lightweight, nourishing, suitable for sensitive skin and smells heavenly.
It’s Tuesday, treat yourself.
We made it through Monday and masks are just plain fun, they feel indulgent but are also incredibly good for you. All time favourite and worth the Instagram hype is Sand and Skye’s Australian Pink Clay Porefining Face Mask. Again, completely natural and cruelty free. I struggle sometimes with deep cleansing masks as they can be too much for my fragile flakey skin. This one however is the perfect balance, you feel clean and taut afterwards but also hydrated.
Because spots aren’t just for teenagers.
Let’s be honest I’m still getting spots well into my 20’s. Be it hormones, wine and chocolate fountains or generally just down to genetics. The red and white mountains formed on our faces can be tamed. Salicylic Acid is a beta hydroxy acid used to exfoliate the skin and battles inflammation, common in anti ageing and acne treating products. The Ordinary’s Salicylic Acid 2% Sollution can be used directly on a single mountain or used extremely thinly over the whole face once or twice a week. I’ve tried toothpaste, sudocrem, tea bags, the lot. Nothing reduces redness and swelling quite like this. And it’s a bargain.
Our skin is our biggest organ and our only canvas. Look after it. And love the skin you’re in.
There’s nothing like a shot of perspective and the post perspective whisky to get you thinking. Whether it’s relationships, health, our family, not getting the job, injury or illness… they come in all shapes and sizes, it’s how we use the perspective that makes a difference. Post whisky I instantly put a lot of pressure on myself to ‘live in the moment’, ‘make every moment count’, and ‘be my best self’. These are common mantras of self help on my social media feed and when taken too literally in my opinion not all that helpful. The pressure for unadulterated happiness and to ‘slay’ ones life can make us unhappy in the process not helped with inequality, global warming and Brexit filling our newsfeed.
Disclaimer. I am not 100% happy 100% of the time. I don’t think anybody is, even if social media and my blog name would have us believe otherwise. And that’s ok. Happiness is subjective and different for everyone. There’s no one way to be happy there’s no quick fix, finding happiness comes from a million different things. Just as lows can come from a million different things. I also don’t want to compare something like heartbreak to spilt milk. I just wonder if making small changes could actually make an influence on getting the most out of this thing called life. So here’s my musing; rather than running 10k everyday, drinking champagne every night and going skydiving over the Grand Canyon, I’m simply making a conscious effort to be my most present and engaged. I’ve made three categories – The Three P’s – to kick me into present and if you fancy a kick too, enjoy.
Be present, progress, then party.
Be Present. #SocialMedia
Most of our generation’s lives revolve around social media. It’s an incredible thing, used for business, relationships and for hilarious videos of cats (personal favourite). However in this digital age a worrying amount of us are probably addicted to social media, if you don’t believe me have a look at your daily screen time on your phone, you can even find out which particular apps you’re devoting your life to. Does it really matter? Who cares? I didn’t, even though a few months ago I was giving Instagram 3 hours of my average day. Then I did some maths. I knew that GCSE would come in handy some day. 3 hours a day for a whole year totals to 1,095 hours, that’s over 45 days. We only get 12 months in a year, so that’s a month and a half of my year on Instagram. I want to be remembered for the light and love I brought to my own and my loved ones’ lives, not my avid scrolling and thumb strength. My solution is no phones (social media) at meals alone or in company, turning my notifications off, swapping my pre bedtime scroll for a book and eye contact! If someones talking to you the least we can do is look at them, manners cost nothing.
Progress. Move, because you can.
As a 25 year old in musical theatre currently in a roller skating show I think I take being able to move for granted. I was on the treadmill at my local gym jogging along, not because I wanted to but because I felt I should. There are big plasma screen TVs that blare inspirational tunes, images and quotes and as I jogged along creating a mild ungrateful sweat I read “Move. Because you can.” This packed a punch, how lucky I felt to be able to do this but also how grateful I am to be spoiled for choice. Not everyone is as lucky and I doubt I’ll be rollerskating through my 80’s so I want to make the most of it now. My aim is to walk to work, try out new spin classes and add more yoga into my week, putting these things into our daily lives is just plain good for us, endorphins, sunlight and health. The more we move the more progression we’ll feel. Move, because we can!
Celebrating myself and my loved ones is one of my favourite things. Who doesn’t love birthday cake!? But I’m talking more day-to-day. If you just smashed a personal best at the gym, finished a puzzle, even the most mundane chores, celebrate them! Maybe not at the Ritz – maybe with your favourite cup of tea or treat yourself to a new candle. If we don’t reward ourselves for grafting we’re less likely to keep up the graft. Maybe it’s like training a dog: she sits; she gets a treat; he fetches the stick; he gets a tickle. There’s this thing called hedonic adaptation, whereby no matter how exhilarating something we do is we quickly get used to it and go back to our same level of happiness/contentment. Clever human brains but slightly annoying. And setting ourselves mammoth unrealistic feats is sometimes too much. There’s nothing like encouragement to get me going so I’m adding daily celebrations in because why the hell not? Congratulating myself for the smallest mountains. Because as Miley Cyrus once said ‘It’s the climb.’
The Three P’s.
Every bit of us and our lives matters. I may not be 100% happy 100% of the time but I know there’s something to be happy about 100% of the time and for me that’s enough.
Engage with yourself and others because we don’t get a second go at life. Every bit matters. Don’t miss it.
This one is a little different, this week February 25th – March 3rd is National Eating Disorders Awareness week organised by the National Eating Disorder Association. They’re the largest nonprofit organisation supporting individuals and communities affected by eating disorders. NEDA’s 2019 campaign and theme is Come as You Are, promoting all stages of body acceptance, recovery, self love and also allows individuals to seek help, speak out, share stories and connect with others. It’s a matter quite close to my heart, in a world conditioned by social media, peer pressure and an ever expanding beauty industry, disorders probably affect around 1.6 million people in the UK alone but the stigma around it makes us afraid to discuss it. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of all mental health concerns and now is the time to start talking.
Here’s my sharing, not for sympathy or attention but as an honest look into my experiences in hope it encourages others to share and ‘Come as You Are’. I work in the performing arts industry. I’ve danced and sung my whole life, I trained at performing arts college London Studio Centre where a gained my BA honours degree, I’ve since been lucky enough to perform for a living. My dream has its ups and downs and I’m still fairly new at it but it’s definitely got to be one of the most rewarding jobs in the world. One of the downs however is the constant judgment, everyone says we shouldn’t care what others think but when you get paid to be watched how can you not? Performers put their souls on platters for their audiences and whilst training as a dancer I found my body under constant scrutiny too. Three years of training in-front of a mirror in nothing but a leotard and tights with 100 other young women, I saw it all.
My first flirtations with controlled eating and body dysmorphia began when I started my degree in 2012 at 18 years old, I moved to London where I rented a house with three of my current soulmates who played a huge part in my well being. I suppose within any line of work or education, when you’ve come from a small pond and you move to deeper waters you’re never quite prepared for the intensity or diversity of the unknown. I went from being a big fish to more of a mackerel. I felt out of control, I didn’t know where I would rank, if I would excel at new subjects or if I would be deemed good enough by my tutors. One thing I could control was my body weight and size, after words thrown at me during six form like ‘hench’, ‘tank’ and my thighs being described as tree trunks it was a natural thought process. I couldn’t comprehend the competition within the college so I went into competition with myself. I couldn’t ultimately control if I fell out of a tricky turn that day in my morning Jazz class but I could control my diet and exercise work balance to create a certain body type. I imagined some other girls on my course were going through a similar thing for a variety of reasons but the subject was so taboo I wouldn’t dare broach it. A common condition for some of us might have been Orthorexia, a term used to describe a condition where obsessive behaviours begin in pursuit of a ‘healthy’ lifestyle. Fuelled by the combination of restricted clean eating and high intensity training that puts bodies into a constant deficit. The internet was my accomplice, after outrageous google research into calories, BMIs, macros, cardio and weight loss I started to become obsessed with it. And because the competition was with myself and deep down I knew my behaviour wasn’t healthy I wanted to keep it a secret. I would start to come home after a 10 hour day of dance classes, lectures and singing lessons to a boiled egg and a cuppa soup. I’d tell my housemates/soulmates that I’d already eaten something that resembled a proper meal on my walk home. I’d downloaded an app that would calculate how much I could eat each day in order to reach a certain weight by the end of the week. I weighed myself twice a day. I also kept a tape measure in my bedside drawer.
Then life started to get in the way.
Social life. This was a tricky one, a burger date with friends would mean I’d want to remove the bun, fries and condiments and student nights out meant vodka with diet tonic water instead of 2-4-1 cocktail pitchers at Whetherspoons. Reclusive calorie counting menus before I would get to restaurants and trying to explain or lie about my clean eating was exhausting.
Energy. I was involved in a high intensity work programme at college, we did long hours of varying genres of dance usually starting with 9am Ballet. My breakfast of black coffee wasn’t allowing me to get to grande allegro without feeling faint. My degree was an expensive course and I couldn’t make the most of it when I wasn’t fuelled. The intense restriction (famin) would lead to overpowering cravings where my body would go into fight or flight mode. It’s basic primal instinct, and all I wanted was a friggin’ croissant.
Menstruation. I lost my period. Changes and irregularity in our periods can be due to a variety of factor’s including changes of exercise regime, weight loss, stress and hormonal changes to name a few. When mine was absent for more than three cycles I went to the doctors. Being a mother isn’t something I wanted at 18 but the thought that my hormones and reproductive system was being jeopardised really shook me.
Soulmates. My three housemates noticed my behaviour and size change, a tutor at my college was involved, the girls talked to me about it and although I wasn’t completely honest it was the first time I had ever opened up and admitted how I felt even to myself. It was the best thing that could have happened. I knew that for me to live my fullest, happiest life I needed to put my energy into other things more worthwhile, and believe me it didn’t just happen over night.
Recovery, self love and just being present is a slow process, it’s a long distance run with a few pot holes rather than a finish line.
Things I have learnt.
– Just like us eating disorders come in different shapes and sizes.
– Looking different to other people is what makes us unique and special.
– Being a woman doesn’t just happen, you wouldn’t drive a car on an empty tank.
– No one feels 100% all of the time, being comfortable in our own skin can be found anytime.
– My goals, friends and family are the most important thing in the world. I’m sorry I wasted time that could have been spent with them measuring my thighs.
– Slow and steady wins the race, small healthy lifestyle choices like getting outdoors and eating colourfully are the ones that stick.
– Life is short, eat the croissant.
I hope this encourages others to share and spread awareness and support, being there for our loved ones is sometimes all we can do and all it takes to help. When eating disorders are affecting over 70 million people worldwide being ashamed and embarrassed of them needs to stop. Follow the link to nationaleatingdisorders.org to educate, self screen and find a variety of confidential help. If anyone relates, would like to share or talk to me please get in touch here or via Instagram, my support for this is unlimited and whole hearted.
The day is upon us. Rom-coms are on offer, we’re craving pink chocolate, and meal deals are two for one. As I stared at my face in a giant, red, heart-shaped, reflective balloon, I knew it was time to share. I’m no Alan Turing: this is just the thinking of little old me. But I have a theory on relationships.
The bomb… my nearest and dearest know this one well. I’m not talking devices containing explosive or incendiary materials, think more Tom Jones’s “Sex Bomb”… This is my theory, I live by it, although some days it’s hard to fully feel it, I give it my best go. It allows me to evaluate my relationships, romantically and also with myself.
So let me lay it out. ‘The Bomb’ – the best thing since sliced bread, the bees knee’s, the cat’s pyjamas. In a relationship, every party must be, and also be regarded as, the bomb. That’s a lot of bombs if you break it down. Take Jack and Jill for instance, Jack has to know he is the bomb, and also think that Jill is the bomb, whilst Jill thinks Jack is the bomb and also knows that she is the bomb. Let’s hope they don’t roll down that hill too wildly. If one of these bombs is missing I think you’re in the wrong relationship. Detonation pending.
Now this equation isn’t entirely feasible 24 hrs a day, I don’t know about you but I definitely don’t think I’m the dog’s bollocks 365 days a year. Sometimes you have emergency root canal, pass out twice during your trip, need to be fed a diet of Tomato soup and Jack Daniels for the rest of the day and told you’re still beautiful even though you’re drooling. Just me? That’s the best thing about the theory. If for a moment we forget how important our love for ourselves is, our partner can remind us we’re still the bomb. If we keep levels up and feel bombful 90% of the time, I’m sold. If a friend has that in their partner, I’m Pinterest searching bridesmaid shoes.
Cliché, but I reckon there’s a lot to loving yourself before you can love someone else. It’s as simple as fitting your own oxygen mask first. Then you’re alive to help others. Once we’ve fallen in love with ourselves we then open ourselves up to love others, and if we don’t love ourselves then we sure as hell won’t let anyone else love us. Have you ever had an awful day at work, you’ve had no time to explain to your partner what’s up, it’s date night, you cancel. Negative thoughts can make us retreat from loved ones, but all we’ve done is robbed ourselves of something joyful because we feel we don’t deserve it and unfortunately over time this self destruction can have detrimental effects on our relationships and our mental health. Next time this sort of scenario crops up, breathe and communicate, I’ve trialled, tested and am still working on it! Sometimes we do just need a moment alone, but if we can share and be honest with our loved ones and ourselves, the quicker our bomb level can go back up. Either DIY or with help from bae. My personal bomb squad below.
Being the bomb is unconditional, loving and taking care of ourselves and then forgiving ourselves if we get negligent sometimes.
So this Valentine’s Day I’m kick starting BIY. Bomb It Yourself.
1. Hydrate. Prepare for later… Start your day with your favourite tea or coffee in bed or at your favourite grind.
2. Eat. Fuel your body and mind with good food. Ben and Jerry’s will be on offer 15th February.
3. Give. Check in with your loved ones and tell them how much you love them.
4. Self care. Do at least one thing completely and utterly for yourself. Face mask, get a massage, yoga, start researching your next holiday.
5. Self love. Tonight, go for gold. Your best bottle of red, binge watch Grace and Frankie, go dancing, purely because it makes you feel good.
… and you’ll sleep well knowing you’re the bomb.
Happy Valentine’s Day. x
Welcome to The Positivity Wagen. As a 25 year old musical theatre actress currently living in Germany performing in Starlight Express (hence the wagen bit..) I like to think my little but quite wonderful life has been pretty colourful already. I have an uncontrollable want to help humans, from love to laundry. Problems shared become halved and love given gets doubled here. This page is a sharing of thoughts and experiences from me for anyone. Read, take and enjoy as much or as little as you’d like. Gem x