This year the UK cut its contribution to the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria by 15% (about £150 million). This act will lead to the deaths of hundreds of thousands. The Trump Administration in addition to having appointed one of the most unqualified Health Secretary to date; has also decided that it will not observe World AIDS Day. This is the first time the US government has not observed the day since it was established on Dec 1, 1988.  Ronald Regan briefly mentioned AIDS in 1985 and then did not give another speech about it until 1987; during this team well over 10,000 (estimates are closer to 15,000) had already died in the US alone.

Douglas Coupland wrote in Generation X, "Nostalgia is a weapon." There is a glossing over of the 80's without acknowledging that for many people, mainly minorities and people considered undesirables, the decade was like looking through the bottom of a dirty brown glass ashtray.

Governments in the 80's did not care that gay men and drug addicts were dying. Instead, they created an atmosphere of shame with the media calling it a judgement from above. God did not let HIV+ individuals; including my own father in 1986 die. Government failure to invest and pursue programs to help people who were sick is what killed them. Government failure to educate and advocate killed them. Here we are in 2025 and as Shirley Bassey famously sang "It's all just a little bit of history repeating."

The shame is not on those we have lost but is firmly on governments and religious authorities around the world who continue to promote a silence and ignorance that is still causing undue harm and death.

Today I will honour all those taken from us like my own father John Daniel Lugo, Sr who was only 30 years old when he died in 1986. I will honour those who continue to defy the medical odds and live full lives.

Tomorrow though, we continue to hold all those accountable for the deaths of millions. Tomorrow, we continue to speak out against the homophobia, misogyny, transphobia, racism and social engineering that governments and religion use as justification to deny access to HIV/ AIDS education and medication.

 

My first job after graduating university was as a Special Markets Assistant at St. Martin’s Press in New York. I had my own office on the fifth floor of the Flatiron Building which was cool as fuck given, I was an assistant; but then we all did in my department because it was just the layout of the floor. Still, how many fresh out of university kids could say they had their own office, right? For those who don’t know, Special Markets can be summed up as “non traditional book sales.” This means pretty much anything that isn’t a traditional bookstore or traditional book retailer/ distributor. My area was premium/ corporate gift sales, author events and general dumping ground for things no one knew what to do with. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was getting a crash course in publishing that has stuck with me till this day.

My phone number and address were given out freely which made for some interesting voicemails come Monday morning and also my weekly post consisted of anything from fan letters to authors, odd requests for free books and my personal favourite: members of the public who would return books completely marked up with grammatical corrections, incorrect facts and letters that pretty much told us how shit we were for allowing these books to be published in their present form. I know people like to knock independent publishing because they think its amateurish but let me tell you, the Big 5 are just as capable of looking amateurish. Anyone who owns an e-book reader can attest to this one.

There has been a lot of talk recently about The Salt Path revelation. As it turned out, this bestselling memoir by Raynor Winn and now major motion picture with Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs is not entirely based on truth. It has called into question the integrity of the author and her life.  If you haven’t heard about it, you can find more about it here.

Anyone who has worked in publishing can tell you that this is not the first nor will it be the last time a publisher, an agent or the public will be duped by a supposed true story. Two names that come to mind are that of Ned Irving and JT Leroy who both deceived publishers, agents and the unsuspecting public in spectacular ways. Penguin Random House released a very vague statement about their own due diligence which admitted no culpability. Behind the scenes, they will be managing this closely with the agent involved and looking at all contracts. The most likely outcome is the book will be moved into the fiction section and the news will move on accordingly.
What’s been on my mind the most though is the broken contract between author and reader. As authors we enter into a contract with our readers the moment, they pick up our work and invest their time and energy into our writing. There are more books than readers, and people have less free time to read. But also, readers are trusting us to take them on a journey, to entertain, to excite, to fill them with wonder or fright. Memoirs in particular are successful because in this post-truth world, people are looking for a connection and authenticity. They want to feel inspired and to see others soar because it means that there is a possibility they too can soar.

Had Raynor Winn written this as a novel, would the reader have been fooled? Not at all, but by selling it as a memoir, she violated that sacred contract and once again, everyone who writes autobiographical/ memoir will find themselves burned by this deceit. There are enough lies in this world that are passed off as truth.

As authors, our readers should trust us to not make fools of them. They have elected officials who do that on a daily basis. 

It's been a while since I updated everyone and it’s not because I haven't had things to say. It's the opposite of that. I have had too much to say. There's been too much going on in the last year and honestly, the real question is where do I even start? What do I want to share?

During hubby's hospitalisations I spent a lot of time on social media updating loved ones and sharing our journey with the world. The support and love were incredible. We could not have gotten through that time without all of you who reached out and helped in every way you could.  It was a reminder that social media can be a force for good.

The mental cost though was high and as I went through my own cancer scare at the end of 2024, everything hit me at once. I found myself paralysed emotionally. I didn't want to share anymore because I was overexposed. I shut down and took a step back. I needed personal space to work out what was going on in my head. To work out what I wanted to and didn’t want to share.

I didn't want to share how scared I was. I didn't want to share that long term friendships I thought were solid had started to crumble. I didn't want to share that I was physically and emotionally exhausted by the events of 2022 onwards. I didn’t want to share that two of our best friends died within months of another and circumstances prevented us from attending their funerals. I didn’t want to share that I had a breakdown over the Christmas holidays and sought medical help which has resulted in me taking prescription anxiety pills on a daily basis. I didn't want to share that just when one thing settled down in our lives, another thing waited on the next corner ready to pounce.
I didn't want to be that person that is always sharing how tough their life was without acknowledging the positive things in their life. I also didn't want to be that person who swims in toxic positivity. I didn't know how to express any of this, so I expressed none of it.

By retreating though, I picked up my pen again.

I began writing from where I am now and not where I was. I no longer have an office nor an abundance of time to work at my own leisure. Life is different now and I needed to find new ways of working. Once I let go of the way I used to work, began finding new ways to put words on paper.
Things started to click.

I started to feel a confidence that I hadn’t experienced before, not an arrogance but an actual confidence that what I was producing was important to send out. That it was meant to be read because it needed to be written. The words were different and the pieces more experimental but the rush, oh man, the rush was like new life pulsating through me.

I also joined Dif, a creative community based in Bristol who are in the process of producing their first zine, of which I am one of the curators of. We have a great team and the submissions we have received have been inspiring. I have submitted pieces to theatre groups and queer journals in the US, funnelling much of my feelings about the current state of the world into writing rather than social media rants.

One of my stories has been shortlisted for The 2025 Curae Prize and will appear in the anthology to be published later this year. It's an incredible honour as it is a prize set up for unpaid carers like myself. They understand the responsibilities of caring for a loved one and the artistic weight we carry on top of that. The short story is a piece that I remain proud of and one that I can't wait for others to read.

I feel like I am riding a new wave in the evolution of myself as a person and artist. It’s exciting, nerve wracking but I am grateful. I am so grateful to be where I am today. I am grateful for the words, grateful for all of you and most of all, I am grateful for my hubby who continues to support me on this creative journey, even with everything thrown at us.

I'll leave you with this photo he took of us celebrating my shortlisted story at our local village pub, The Oakhill Inn. We moved here in 2023 and are only now getting a chance to explore our surroundings. Things aren't perfect but the pieces are moving in the right direction.

​We're living and that feels good.
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I don't believe in writer's block. I don't believe the words ever leave you fully, I have though come to accept that there are times when the words elude you for whatever reason.

For at least 3 months I have sat in front of this screen and tried to convey some insight into my life, my emotions and the journey it has been. What I came up with were barely coherent ramblings and an attempt at intellectualising life in the most superficial way.
Needless to say, those pieces won't see the light of day.

The right words though continued to elude me and they became a game of cat and mouse. The words would come in flashes and no pen or phone in sight to capture them. I'd be ready to write and the words would stand across the street like a kid taunting another kid protected by an invisible river of lava, "nah nah you can't catch me."

Each missed opportunity left a longing in me like when you're ready to go out and party and absolutely no one is around to go out with; each phone call going to voicemail.
At times, it felt like not being able to see a loved one and that empty feeling in the gut that exasperates the longing.

Then came the voices "you're not a writer if you don't write." "People work full time jobs and still write." "Does writing count if no one reads it." "Maybe you were a writer but what about now?"

Now I can deal with words eluding me but those voices, fuck that.

Maybe it's because deep down with all my education and manners, I am still a kid from the hood who will defend himself. Perhaps it’s because as a gay man and a Latino, I bear the scars of a society that makes us justify our very existence. It’s probably a combination of those things and a lifetime of experience and memories shaped by always knowing "this too shall pass." The fact I am still here is a testament to that.

It's a foggy start to a September day here in Somerset. Another summer has pretty much passed and it is the first time in months that I have been able to write freely.

Even though the words played games with me, I used that time to get back to reading and journaling on a regular basis. I have kept notes on existing projects and new ones I want to dive into. I found on my laptop loads of work in progress pieces written in 2019 onwards. It made me realise that through the pandemic, hubby's cancer, the complete shift in life with the walls collapsing around us and well everything else thrown at us; the writer has been there walking silently alongside me.

Okay sometimes he's been across the invisible stream of lava but unlike that mean kid, he never mocks me.
​
He's just waiting for me to realise that the lava isn't there. I'm almost ready to believe him.
 
 

Are you tired? I am.

It feels like I have been tired since the dreaded Referendum that polarised this country.

Actually, I am not tired, I am fucking exhausted.

Holding both a US and a UK passport right now makes me feel like I am holding a turd in each hand because whoever wins the elections this year, there is still a fight on our hands.

I have now been a full time Carer for about 2 years and as a friend reminds me just when I need to hear it- you're in a marathon John, not a race.

Of course this makes perfect sense but not when you're exhausted. That said, this reminder is something that has struck me about the current election(s) and what I see is the general mood of the electorate.

So here are a few things to keep in perspective as the 2024 elections roll on...

1. Our lives are a marathon, not a sprint. Take the necessary break from the election news. Nothing is going to change that much from day to day because we are polarised at the moment. The media at the moment is feeding your anxiety not nourishing your intellect.

2. As an immigrant, a son of immigrants and a queer person, I know that I will battle ignorance till my last breath. This unfortunately is the reality of life for marginalised people in the world. Some minds you enlighten, some people are fucking idiots. Learn the difference and don't worry about the minds you can't change. The minds you do change are more important.

3. Start to think of ways you can help going forward. What can I do that is proactive and not reactive? Change can be motivated by reaction but in my experience once the emotions calm down, you have to have something else to continue the momentum. Find that for yourself and channel that energy where it belongs.

4. Stop picking the scabs. Following on from above, stop reacting to every news article, every social media post and sharing every awful image, meme or doom scrolling article you come across. Even bad publicity is still publicity and the best way to not feed the monster is by scrolling past instead of engaging with every piece of doom that crosses your path. Remember as a kid being told not to pick your scab. Well here I am to remind you: Stop picking the scab!
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5. Find one good thing about each day whether it is 5 minutes alone enjoying a coffee, or watching a bird in the early hours, or remembering a happy time. You get the picture. If you find more brilliant but if you can't find at least one good thing a day to shine a light through the political storm clouds hovering above us right now then you need more of a break than you realise. You are no good to anyone or the fight ahead if you are not recharged.
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Every year for my birthday I write myself a birthday card with resolutions for the coming year. I open the card the following year and reflect on what year it has been. This year, I have no idea where that card is, nor do I think it matters what I set out last year.

Last year, David had finished a course of aggressive radiotherapy and chemo. We were beginning to sort out our life post treatment and post pandemic. Things felt like they were turning around for us. Whatever I wrote in that card most likely reflected that.
That's the thing about life, as much as there are things within our control, there are equally if not more outside of our control.

Cards on the table...

Earlier this year, I thought I would be alone today on my 47th birthday.

David's tumour returned with a vengeance and although he was in the best hands the country had, there was still a chance he wouldn't make it. We were simultaneously facing homelessness and financial ruin on top of his cancer.

I didn't have any chance to reflect on anything that was happening at the time. 2023 has felt like continuous bulbs flashing in my face without letting my eyes adjust.
Cancer *flash* Eviction *flash* Business failure *flash* 2.5 months in Southampton *flash* Leaving Cornwall *flash* Moving to Somerset *flash* Ongoing health complications *flash* Failing eyesight *flash*

*flash* flash*flash*

Yet as I sit here typing this, our three legged cat Rosie is curled up next to me. David is in bed resting with Alys no doubt cuddled into him. Tilly is in her cubby behind the chair in the lounge avoiding the other cats and waiting for David to get out of bed so she can sit next to him and keep guard.

I am not alone.

David is alive. We are making new memories together as he recovers and are both excited about life again. Somerset has reinvigorated us both. Nothing could have prepared us for this year but we're still here, going stronger than ever. Life looks very different for us on every level but we're both alive and together.

Our girls are with us and these Cornish girls are thriving here in Somerset.

But you know what else, each morning in Southampton during David's hospital stay; I physically woke up alone but never felt alone.  I should have felt alone given everything thrown at us and feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I should have felt alone but I didn’t, not once did I feel alone.

From the four corners of the globe our family and friends supported me and helped me through what felt like a ghost ship floating through an abyss. A friend of mine recently said that good friendships don't happen by accident, they are a reflection of what type of friend you are.

Those words lit me up like a beacon in the darkness. I would never be able to describe fully the gratitude I have for the love and support I have seen this year. To be humbled by it is a gross understatement.

I started sharing updates on social media as a way to inform everyone as to how David was doing in the hospital. It was easier than having individual conversations. What I never imagined was how through exposing my vulnerability I would find the strength and courage each day to get out of bed and fight for him, fight for my family's survival and somehow maintain some semblance of sanity.

I thought of my mother a lot during that time in Southampton.  She always put on a brave face when times were tough and would just say to us "siguimos Pa'lante." That word "Pa'lante" would come to define this year like no other.  Unlike my mother, I couldn't wear a masque all the time. I did show my hurt. I showed my fear. I showed my happiness and I continue to show my gratitude.

I may have my moments when I need to be alone in order to recharge but I know that I am not alone.

I know that we are not alone. I know that each and every person in my life is not alone because we have each other and we have shown one another this through our friendship, love and support of one another.  2023 has been some year huh? Well let’s be honest, would any of us have survived the last 5 years without one another?

With so much darkness in this world, let gratitude be the light that navigates us through it.
Thank you all for a birthday like no other. A birthday that is truly a celebration of life.

Southampton is a place that I have to say I associated with an ill fated liner and regular transatlantic crossings. It's not a place I knew much about or a place I ever thought I would spend as much time as I have done in. Nor would the reason for that stay have been my husband's cancer treatment. Life just likes to fuck around with you at times, doesn’t it?

In the near 10 weeks I have been here, I have learned about the history of the everyday people who lost their lives on the Titanic, the workers who were neither Jack nor Rose. I have seen the scars of its wars with the France and Germany. I have learned of its own connection the Mayflower, which I had always associated with Plymouth.

Southampton is a city where cruises dock daily and tourists wander taking in the various plaques showing its connection to Jane Austen. They photograph the mish mash of architectural styles from its castle walls to the towering student housing flats that dominate the landscape as well its city walls and Tudor relics dotted about the Old Town.

Like most of Britain’s coastal cities, it has its social problems which are visible on its streets. There is a sizeable homeless population. I have seen outreach workers trying to reach those with mental health problems. On any given weekend and during football matches a heavy police presence are about and you can hear disturbances of those who have had one too many. These aren’t problems unique to Southampton. You can see this picture all over the country. They are the product of the socio political class that has dominated this country for too long.

All that said, Southampton has been kind to me in the time I have been here.

My time here can be called what my therapist always refers to as a "dark gift." For those who don't follow my video updates of my husband's extended stay at Southampton General Hospital, I refer to these "dark gifts" often. These are positive things born out of what feels like dark and hopeless times. They are lessons that help you rise above the negativity and remind you that even in darkness, there exists light.

For this Bronx-born New York City boy who has been living a quiet existence in the wilds of West Cornwall, my time here has reawakened parts of myself that have been dormant and unused. It has also reignited my street smarts. In many ways, it has laid the foundation for what comes next.

I have had to dig deep to find the courage and confidence to deal with hospital bureaucracy, social services and my own solitude. I have filled my own down time with reading, re-engaging with foreign languages I haven't used in years and observing life again. In fact, re-engaging with life, which is something I haven't been able to do since before the first days of the pandemic.

I have found myself writing notes for future products and working on current ones when I am not exhausted. In my solitary walks which are often, I find myself snapping photos of this city. It is eclectic in its architectural make up, infuriating with its traffic system, and only minutes from outstanding beauty just outside of its city limits. 

Yet, it has come to occupy a special place in my heart during this difficult time. It is now a part of me as any place is that I have had any extended relationship with.

I wanted to share a small selection of what I have seen here, my mood and just a little insight into the last 10 weeks.
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​(All photos taken by John Lugo-Trebble)

If you had asked me years ago that I would find myself in the position of having to care full time for my husband who was diagnosed with cancer, I wouldn’t even thought it possible. First of all, no one sits there and thinks about getting cancer or looking after someone who has cancer, well no one should at the very least.  Second of all, I would have laughed it off and probably said something like “pfff, no by then my books would have started selling that we would both have the time to pursue the creative projects we have both wanted to work on separately and together.”

Well knowing myself full well, it wouldn’t have been said that eloquent or child friendly.
But you know the old saying, “make a plan and the Universe will laugh at you.” To be honest, at this point in all our lives none of us could have predicted living through a global pandemic so there you go. We shouldn’t be surprised by much anymore.

When you are caring for someone else full time, a few things can happen. The first is your boundaries can become blurred, are you a carer or still their husband, wife, spouse, brother, sister, etc.  The truth is, you’re both and being aware of those lines is so important, for your own mental health but also for that of whomever you are looking after. Loss of independence is a common thread you will share  the person you are looking after and giving them as much independence (as long as it is truly within their medical diagnosis to do the tasks, please always seek medical advice on what they are able to do and not do) is vital for their mental health. As for yourself, your independence is gone because you are looking after someone else AS WELL AS yourself AND children, pets, the house, you name it.

I can guarantee one thing, you will put yourself LAST and I was reminded by a caseworker this week that “You always put your oxygen mask on first before you put it on others.” As a Carer, our wellbeing is essential. It is mandatory. You CANNOT look after another person if you do not look after yourself.

As a Carer, I have also learned that time is both your friend and enemy. There is not enough of it and when there is, you are usually too tired to do anything with. This happens a lot in the beginning before you start to figure out your own structure.

As a writer, I approach it with the mindset, that if I have 10 minutes to write, use it because I don’t know when that 10 minutes will come again. Also, we tend to think in grand terms of time when in reality, time is made up of smaller and smaller increments that come together to make up a day.

So, I began realising that it was possible to look after myself when I had 5 minutes here, or 10...maybe even 15 minutes. I kept to these smaller increments because when I first became a Carer, I was given the advice, “when your husband rests, so should you.” So if David was having a nap, rather than busy myself with housework or things would tire me out more, I started to use that time to rest whether that was have a cat nap or watch something or use at least some of that time to keep my mind engaged.
I compiled a list of things that can range from 5 minutes to 15 minutes. Honestly, it is your decision but I hope it helps others as it has helped me.

1.  Free Writing: As a writer, I always get ideas for what I want to write at the most inconvenient time and it’s frustrating when you don’t have the time to develop them. I began free writing for 5 minutes so I could literally dump my ideas onto the page where they would be safe to develop them later. It’s been great for that but also clearing my head. If I get other ideas later on, I either type a message on my phone or record a voice message for myself. 

2. Journaling: You need to get things out of your head because you will have such little space in there that it will become crowded very quickly. If you enjoy writing by hand this is the best way because you can sit and write at whim. But you might enjoy recording it on video or audio. There is no right way but also producing a record of your emotions and frustrations. They will also help you identify reoccurring stresses and triggers. 

3. Videos/ Blogs/ Social Media: You won’t have the time to scroll through your social media as much as you used to, this is actually not a bad thing but we often forget how far and wide our loved ones are these days and you will want to throw your phone across the room when it starts to beep incessantly because everyone is messaging you (at least at first). Giving updates on social media is actually a very positive and great way to reach out to all your loved ones at once. Forget that it is a public forum and speak to them directly; this will help you get over any insecurity about public speaking. If you prefer to blog, go to it. I have never been able to write a blog in 15 mins but there are a lot of amazing people out there who probably can, you may be one of them. It serves the same purpose. 

4. Audio messages: I can’t even describe how much I love receiving and sending audio messages to friends and family. Being a carer can feel so lonely at times and hearing a comforting voice or having just that 30 seconds to send a message to someone where they can hear you is the closest you will get to another human connection when your loved ones are far away or unable to visit. Every messenger has this function now. It’s brilliant. 

5. Read: I know for many this is not as easy as it sounds because your mind is too busy or full but find something fun or silly to start with or reread something you loved. It will help break that block and if you are writer, you know how important reading is. If you just need to escape for a little bit, books were there before Netflix and will be there after Netflix is long gone. 

6. Learn: This sounds ridiculous but hear me out. There are apps like Babel and Duolingo where you can set times for lessons. You can learn a new language or refresh one for as little as 5 minutes a day. There are other educational apps as well as free online at your own pace courses you can do. You set the pace and it takes as long as it takes. Just make sure it is something you will enjoy, this may not be the time to retrain but it could be the time to learn for learning sake and that will help your mental state. Your local library probably has tons of free courses online and a quick Google search will open a whole new world for you. 

7. Exercise: I own a treadmill so I have that but whilst my husband has been in hospital I have begun dabbling with Qigong and this practice is similar to Tai Chi. It can be done in as little as 8-10 minutes. It is a fabulous way to centre yourself. There are loads of YouTube videos out there. You can practice any chance you get. Also there is Yoga and other things like Pilates, you name it. Best of all, you will most certainly find a video showing you how to do it for free on YouTube. 

8 .Meditation: Being in the present is an essential skill for a Carer. Meditation doesn’t have to be 3 days in a monastery. You can learn simple techniques like mindfulness or more advanced forms of meditation if you wish, whatever you choose just make sure you set your pace and don’t be discouraged if it doesn’t work the first few times, it probably won’t because it is difficult to quiet the brain. When you learn to do it though, the peace you will feel will help you with your day as a Carer. 

9. Ask for Help: The strongest person in the room is the person who asks for help. You weren’t trained for this role. You are learning to be a carer from a place of love. You will make mistakes. Reach out to friends, family and support networks whether it is other carers, or charities, or your GP.  If you ask people for help it will also avoid feeling like you are losing control of the situation because your loved ones will think they are helping by doing a lot for you but when someone takes over, it can lead to feelings of insecurity and inadequacies. Even though they are coming from a place of love, it can also lead to resentment and this is the road every carer wants to avoid walking down. Ask for specific help and draw up boundaries. 

10. Rest: I cannot stress this enough. You have a finite amount of energy a day. If you don’t look after your body and let it rest properly, you will go beyond sleep debt, there is no paying that back. You enter deficit and this is where mistakes are made that have consequences. If you do nothing else but rest for 5, 10, 15 minutes at a time, you are doing the best thing for yourself. 

On Memoir
 
Unless you have been living under a rock, a certain memoir is on sale and causing an incredible amount of controversy. I’m not using this space to argue for and against a certain memoir but I often note how interesting it is that the press and the public are so easily distracted by Royalty and how the government uses that distraction to their benefit.

Always look at what isn’t being reported or what is being talked about very little...these are the issues that matter.

Enough on that though.

Last year I began reading more memoirs mainly because I was struggling to get into fiction books, which is not a lovely space to be in when you write mainly fiction. The thing is, truth is stranger than fiction and if you have been paying attention the last few years, these are hard times for fiction writers and to our comrades who work in the dystopian genre, I feel for you.

One of the memoirs I finished end of last year was Fingers Crossed by Miki Berenyi, co-founder of the group Lush. In subsequent interviews about her memoirs there have been questions and accusations of “score settling” and “revenge.”

It got me thinking about the definition of memoir which in its basic form is: a personal account of a time in a person’s life.

This means that when people accuse or criticise someone’s memoir often they dismiss the fact that the account is from the person’s own experience and perspective.

One of the common traits I have found in memoir writing is that often it is a cleansing exercise and that is what interests me. No one wakes up one day and thinks: “Ooh let me write a book that is going to piss everyone I know off.” There is usually something that haunts this person or in some cases a need to tell the story so that they can move on.
 I think we can all relate to that feeling.

We live in a world with more forms of communication and no communication at the same time. This is one of the reasons books remain popular and memoirs in particular sell like hot cakes. In a memoir, you have the time and space to tell your story before someone comments idiotically because they read the first three words of your post and assumed the rest.

Also, the great thing about a memoir is that if someone really finds an issue with what is written about them well, they have every right to share their side in their own memoir. I’d actually love to see more of that but then I’m a mischievous sod.
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Going back to a certain memoir though...keep an eye on what is happening at Westminster Palace more than Buckingham, the former affects you directly. 

I'm 46 today and given that my mother died at 50, and my dad died at 30, certain birthdays make me a bit more introspective than others.. I don't have any serious health concerns, investigations but no concerns. I'm in general good health and in spite of the many losses and dramas that have plagued my life, I can look back so far and say I have led a very full and good life. A life rich in love, friendships and experience...things the bank can't take away no matter how indebted you are.

46 years is not much and yet it feels like 6 lifetimes. I don't see the man I am when I look in the mirror. I don't really know who I see anymore but I remember a quote from Douglas Coupland's Life After God “I never expected to become this strange person I had become but I was determined to know who this person is.” It fills me with comfort and reminds me one of the most important life lessons I have learned: No matter how low I get, whatever happens, I know I am not done. My therapist reminded me that you can't count someone out in the 40's and I remembered thinking, that wasn't what I was saying in the session but rather I am embracing my ageing and learning that there are things I do differently now. Things that I don't want to do anymore and the inevitable: Things I can't do anymore. I don't see it as sad either but rather an opportunity to fill that space with more things I want to do.

The last few weeks, I have been thinking about what I have learned during these eventful 46 years on this planet and I thought I would a share a few of them on my birthday.

1. You can't control outside stress but you can take steps to address how it affects you. End of the day, you have to look after your own mental health.

2. More often than not, bad days are usually one moment that you can't let go. Not always, but most are.

3. People are going to talk no matter what. Walk past them and smile, it gives them even more to talk about.

4. Putting others down to big yourself up feeds your insecurity, it doesn’t build your confidence.

5. The two most boring questions to ask when you meet someone are "Where are you from?" and "What do you do?"

6. Learn the difference between remembering the past and feeling nostalgic for it.

7. Never stop learning whether it’s reading new books, a new activity, a new language.

8. You're most likely not going to be friends with the same people you were friends with in your 20's. You were all exploring who you were yet to be. Friendships that are meant to last; will. Those that weren't had a place in your life for a reason.

9. We are not just one thing, we are many things and often they are contradictory. Embrace them all. All that crazy shit is what makes you, you.
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10. Celebrate your birthday no matter how shitty you feel about it because like it or not, it’s your day. Honour yourself.  Treat yourself to something. You are given one day out of the year where it is really about you! Take the damn day and run with it!