There’s no rule book for grief. No map to follow or tidy timeline that tells you when the pain will ease or how to move through it “the right way.” Today marked the tenth birthday I’ve spent without my brother. Ten years. Even though I’ve lived with his absence for nearly a decade, today felt different. Today, grief took me by surprise. It brought me to my knees. Wracking sobs moved through me like a wave I couldn’t stop. It was raw, consuming and yet strangely sacred. This, I’ve come to learn, is part of what it means to embody freedom.

In a world that constantly pushes us toward perfection, it’s easy to forget the beauty that lies in authenticity. As I reflect on my own journey with body positivity and self-acceptance, I realise how I’ve often fallen into the trap of seeking flawless outcomes, whether it’s the way I look, the way I speak or even the work I produce. But what if the key to true happiness and self-love isn’t about being perfect, but about embracing our imperfections and being unapologetically ourselves?

I want to begin by being honest. The last few weeks have felt heavy in a way that sits deep in the bones. Nothing single and yet everything has accumulated - friends sinking under the weight of despair, loved ones facing losses and heartbreak, an encounter on a bus where police had to step in to keep people safe and the relentless stream of news about lives cut short.

This weekend, while waiting in line at Costa, I witnessed something that reminded me deeply of the journey we all take toward self-acceptance.

It started innocently enough.One snack, then another.Before I knew it, I was deep into what I can only describe as The Binge Fest, a full-on food free-for-all.

The other morning, I did something I often do before work.I grabbed my usual take-out coffee and headed into the city centre for a walk - nothing unusual about that. But the weather had other ideas.

I almost didn’t go.