She

First female football player in the village
Had her hat pulled off
Revealing the long blonde hair
That she was comfortable with
Yanked it out of the hand
Putting it back on
Without missing a beat
Fresh out of school
Straight into a job
Helping people and scrubbing floors
Until she was told that’s all she’ll ever be
So she got up and quit
Booked a ticket to Australia
Without telling her father
Returned home to join the force
Meeting like minded people
Who wanted to help and have fun
Being told she was too manly for a man
Becoming an overachiever
Leaving the place with a future husband
Defying gender roles
Without denying her womanhood

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Happy Belated Birthday

I work myself up
Thinking
Overthinking
Remembering everything that happened
Or everything you did

Guilt fills me
When you pop into my mind
Over a memory we shared
Or a place we never went to

Dark days with gloomy thoughts
Are spent rehearsing my apology
For nothing that I know
But saved just in case

Every time I think I’m over you
I never thought I was
Never thinking I would reach the point
Of forgetting your birthday

An aimless trip online today
Reminds me of the date
But not of you
And my relief is almost funny

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Stepping Stones

I’m sorry
I don’t plan to be here for long
You see the world
But I can see beyond

A stepping stone to the next adventure
Is all that the island is to me
Encouraging me to leap
Crossing every land and each sea

I will always return home
But growing roots is not who I am
Gaining up my confidence
Restoring the calm

I’m sorry that I can’t explain
How I just need to be on my own
Exploring anywhere I can
Not just the stepping stone

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Dear February

Dear February,

I really missed you February. You have always been the sign of growth and renewal and this year has provided space for that. I am in the process of healing from a cold winter, and your spring time has offered me a warm embrace, welcoming me once again.

This time four years ago I started my blog. To celebrate my Four year blog-a-versary I wrote and published a post each day. And February, the feedback to it has been absolutely incredible. I have gained more followers in this month than I have in the past four, and I’ve received so many wonderful comments that I can hardly keep up with them. My readers have helped me to heal just as much as you have February. I don’t think I could thank either of you enough.

Of course there was some dark clouds this month, but only a couple. Some days were more gloomy than others, but you are just the beginning of a new year. This may not seem too significant, but I feel I have put myself out there more and started to allow myself to be okay. To be honest with you February, I was probably more upset this month than usual. That probably contrasts to everything I just said. But I didn’t mind. It was so much better than just feeling numb. I allowed myself to get out anything I wanted to because I knew sunshine would come the next morning. I was able to relax because I had trust in you to welcome and comfort me each day I needed it February.

Personally, I thought I helped others to grow this month. I made myself more available to those who I knew would do the same for me. I started to talk more to those around me who felt like I had closed them off. I encouraged people to work together and now I have a core group of class friends who I can really rely on in my most crucial part of my degree.
February, you helped me to realise that I grow most when I’m watering others.

I need to thank everyone who has not been annoyed by my blog showing up in their reader each day. I need to thank any new followers who took the time to make my day a bit brighter by clicking a button. I need to thank anyone who stumbled across my little space here on the internet.

I need to thank you, February. You were there when I needed you most. You always have been.

All my love,
Eimear
(P.S. I can’t wait to see you again)

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What I’ll miss

Late caffeinated induced nights
With a gloomy morning to follow
Reminding me that with every deadline met
Two more follow

Loud crowds of people who don’t care
The people who waste time
Who try to waste my time
Intimidating and infuriating

Long bus journeys
That are too high for my budget
But three nights on my own
Would never be worth it

Are all things I will never miss
But that I needed to experience
Coming hand in hand
With all things good

Like early morning walks to the beach
With short classes that encourage group work
Lab filled days with lunch orders
And rotated coffee loyalty cards passed around

Being able to walk everywhere
But also being able to walk home
And close off the world
Without having to report to anyone

Independence
Optimistic people
Safety
Encouragement from everyone

It’s what I’ll miss when I leave
For my last time

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Immortalised Memories

One of my favourite stories growing up was one that my aunt told me.
I come from a big family of twelve(ish) aunts and uncles and uncountable extended family members. My mum is ranked as the youngest girl, and I’m her youngest.
My aunt Mary is the oldest girl in the family, with two of my uncles before her. Despite the age gap my mum would consider her one of her siblings she’s most close to.
I never got to meet my grandparents, but my favourite story of Mary’s is one she told of them when she was born.
My granddad had just had his first pint after the birth of his first daughter. Chuffed at himself, he sipped away happily and content on his own.

One of the locals came in and said to my granddad:
“Ah Brendan, I just saw your two sons on the way here”
Without batting an eye, my granddad replied:
“Yes. But have you seen my daughter?”

The way my aunt tells it just almost transports me back in time. It’s a story that I genuinely would never get tired of hearing as it brings me a feeling of closeness to the grandparents I never had the privilege of meeting.

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Wish for you

It’s funny how
I have no expectations
But my heart still stops
Only to speed up again
When I get a glimpse of you
Sparking a moment of hope
That I know will never last
No matter how long
I really want to believe it
This control over me
Is painful
So I spend my life
Wishing it away
When I really want to wish for you

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