Awkwardly adulting

(I'm trying my best)

Nice to meet you *firm handshake*

The title of this post is how I greet new people that I meet. Many of them are a little taken aback by the formality of it especially if they are only my age. A hug or a friendly wave would be considered more appropriate in many cases. I didn’t get into the whole hugging people you’ve only just met thing, until I moved to New Zealand alone at age eighteen. It seems to be the done thing in this country. I feel people express their emotions more here than where I grew up in Ireland, in particular when it comes to how they feel about you. If they love your personality they will tell you, and if they seem annoyed by you it means they are.

When you move to the other side of the world the only people you meet are ‘new’. Since I’ve been living here for just over a year now, the people in my life are no longer new but have taken on a new meaning for me. They tell me I’m positive, outgoing, and crazy. Their support is the reason I continue to awkwardly adult on my own. If I ever doubt myself they will always remind me about the 18,628 kilometers I have traveled to be here. Thank you to all you wonderful people who have influenced my choices and experiences so far. It’s a privilege to have you all in my life!

My goal was not clear at the start. It was all a blur really, a gap year I had talked about taking for so long that people didn’t believe it was really going to happen. Suddenly I was sitting on a plane, traveling to Dubai with a man sitting next to me who was educating me on the mountains in the desert as you fly into Dubai. When I hit land again I was greeted by palm trees, stunning sea views, huge motorways, all manner of high rise buildings and SO MUCH TRAFFIC. I was alone, everything was new, a tad homesick; but overall I was happy.

Travelling, going to music festivals, and just meeting people on the street opened my eyes to a whole new adventure that was mine to take. So I did.

I do a lot of things on impulse and other people may call these decisions mistakes, but I don’t see them that way. I see these irrational experiences as part of me just like my smile or my eye colour. This blog is basically my attempt to share my funny/crazy experiences with anyone who is interested.

Hope you enjoy 🙂

Featured post

Borrowed freedom

Glimmering city lights shivering through the night,

supporting such fragile life.

Framed by monuments exacerbating moments of great sorrow and loss,

we try to balance the scale with our happy little addictions

hollowing us out till we cower beneath them,


Hopelessly struggling to overcome a disassembled ideal,

a picture painted some years ago for us,

but not by us.

And so we borrow freedom, as one light flickers and dims another surges brighter,

the inconsistent current continues until with a sudden spark or a faint glow

it blinks Goodnight.


She lived her life with a temperament like the ocean,

tone, temperature and tolerance changing without the tide,

obstacles once solidified in her mind

now eroded, adding to sediments of sentiment,

layers compressed through repetitive experience

rising to meet the vast and lonely shoreline

on which she sits and sings of solitude.


An enchanting, mystical, far-away place disguised as home calls her name,

the wind has travelled all this way to whisper an ‘I miss you’ which grows weaker day by day,

her worries strengthen to balance the see-saw battle,

the ending is a mere mockery as her feud flourishes following the third desertion

of her first universe, where unique extraordinary characteristics bonded her personality,

tightly wrapped with love and support that superseded the expectations of a God they

spoke about but were not forced to believe in.


The second universe is masked by abundance, adventure, and acceptance,

An ‘A student’ who often cheats.

Comfort evades her but cosily lingers close by

Authentic lies cover real conversations

Offering shelter but the risk of claiming such security is too high.


But once a mask is removed the disguise can never be worn again,

Both are worn depending on the trend.


A Woman’s Condition

White blonde hair hiding black roots,

An injected smile is her typical greeting card,

Her face painted with premium product

Pushing profits to their peak,

She will never hear them say “Age is beauty”

Because old can almost never be sold,

Conditioned to gaze through false lashes,

Removing her eyebrows before bed,

And wondering “Am I beautiful yet?”.

Vulnerability & Sunbeams

The sky coloured my mood that day:

Exclusively grey,

If it was blue I couldn’t have noticed.

Voiceless claps of thunder crashed in my ears,

The veil of tears shadowing my face could easily be brushed off as a trick of the light,

My skin stung with vulnerability as if it had never shone with serendipity before,

And after everything went black that night;

I awoke to sunbeams joyously dancing on my cheek.

I love you

I love you for all the weaving paths you walked;

streams you crossed, mountains you climbed;

and sludge you trudged through on your way to meet me.


I love you for becoming a beacon guiding me through my darkest hours;

for building brilliant bridges enabling me to cross the most fearsome rapids;

and for telling me to look up when the sun is shining on me and noticing when it is not.


I love you for all the adventures we have yet to embark on,

and for the miles that may separate us but never drive us apart.


She walks at the back of the group,  hearing jokes later than everyone else and never being sure of herself.

She pushes her way to the front, but the others purposefully trail behind.

She walks slower and they tell her to hurry up, then laugh when they trod on her heels from behind.

They are her friends.

The people who never said anything nice about her.

The ones who never saved her a seat ay lunch or on the bus.

The girls she cried over, because their actions made her feel worthless.

Once she left, she never felt that way again.


A piece of paper begs to be written on,

A heart begs to be loved,

A sigh longs to be heard,

A dance longs to be learned,

The world is full of wanting which never stops

although supply never really meets demand.

A Summer Day


Bodies glisten beneath harsh afternoon sun-beams,

Aware of the soothing safety shade offers

But refusing to relent,

Instead: running, dancing, throwing, kicking, catching, spinning, turning, jumping, singing, shouting, playing and burning,

Taking action against adulthood,

With skin on fire a trail blazed by childish happiness follows their footsteps into tomorrow.

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