Heart on my sleeve

imperfectly perfect


I wear my heart on my sleeve… back, neck, tummy, wrist, thigh, ankle, bum and pelvis


…I’m referring to my tattoo’s 🙂 I love’em, I love’em, I love’em! Really I do!

Each one tells a story, some happy, some sad, some deep, some not so deep… But each VERY important to me and my journey …So if at any point you feel the need to express a negative opinion about them …DO NOT! Because with every word, you would actually be insulting my story…

That’s right, my Story! 

It gets deeper…

Up until a few months ago, I would never have admitted that sometimes I feel depressed. Who ME!?! Depressed? No way! I just feel a little down, a nap will sort it and I’ll be back on track tomorrow

…I also would never, ever (ever!) link any of my beautiful drawings to self harm …ever!

But now…

…I’m not 100% sure …Its crazy!

I feel like a flower blossoming when I sit in the tattoo chair, like each drawing adds beauty to my being


…The sting of the needle as it crosses my skin and tells the stories that are in my head, feels good to me… I love it …I feel strong!

Sitting in the chair not moving… No fidgeting, no sound bar the buzz of the needle… No breaks …I sit until the masterpiece is complete and after enduring the pain, I look at the pretty markings and I feel good.

It’s a release…

Are the two connected? I genuinely don’t know…

I obviously cannot speak for every single tattooed human being in the entire universe and I’m not trying to… I can only speak for myself

What if for me, they are connected in some way? …Could you imagine? …Would you still flippantly express your dislike of my tattoos? Would you still casually pick apart my “scars” ?

…It only crossed my mind days ago, during a counselling session, that the connection could even be a possibility…

I don’t think it’s why I do it… I LOVE my little doodles

But would it still feel good to you with your bare skin, to shower me with criticisms, whilst I desperately try to explain and justify the potential mini cries for help permanently etched on to my skin?…


The stylised peacock feather on my ankle = For my Dad (RIP) …It started as a small  flower, but evolved overtime into the big piece it is today, much more fitting for the man he once was

The coloured butterflies on my forearm = 2 out of 3 miscarriages, my little rainbow babies the only coloured tattoos I have

The Roman numerals on my back = My daughters birthday …her Dad has the same …Can you believe that we once had a baby making, matching tattoos type of love? LOL! How things change!!!

My roses and honey suckle = The flowers of my birth month and a representation of me blossoming as I learn to love myself more

The two butterflies that fly among the flowers mentioned above = My daughter and I, beautiful, happy and free

The flower on my bum = Ironically, covers a scar caused by the injections I get to prevent my severe hayfever! Hayfever is a BISH and the scar was upsetting

My Ankh = Sits above the space that my right fallopian tube should be, but isn’t anymore. The Ankh represents Life …Life that I will create in the future, despite the missing tube… Speak it in to existence …And in my case draw it too 🙂

My Lotus’ (I have 3) = My growth… the lotus grows up through murky, swampy water to blossom in to something absolutely beautiful… Like me …I hope!

There are more pretty pictures etched lovingly on to my skin; an Om, the Zen circle, “Success” written in arabic on my neck, because failure is not an option! … And more. Each is a piece of me.

Some people write diaries, some people paint pictures …some write poetry, some even choreograph dances to express their feelings …I express my feelings on my skin …and although it may not be for you…


Each is a stepping stone to feeling better, they make me happy

Is that a bad thing? 

..My tattoo’s (my story) make me feel (moreBeautiful, they are part of who I am  …I am a living work of art …& the last time I checked not one of them makes me a bad person …Soooo if you don’t approve, that’s ok! Just don’t poo, poo my Life Story with your personal opinions on the matter …You do not have to like my tattoos, not even a little bit …Just keep that view to yourself, thank you, please!


I’ve made a pinky promise to myself, to be unapologetically ME! 🙂 

Imperfectly Perfect

Love yourself first… The rest will follow

Love Bald Font 


I’m (NOT) Fine


me and bear

Imagine the scenario, a room full of people who look just like you and me… A speaker stands in front of us, the eagerly awaiting crowd and to the tune of “If you’re happy and you know it” sings…

“If you suffer from depression, clap your hands… “

One person does a kind of half clap and quickly stops, when it becomes apparent that nobody else is going to take part in this delightful game and everyone else, including you, does nothing…

Nobody wants to clap, nobody wants to admit that sometimes life is A LOT 

…Especially if you’re black! That’s right, it is highly likely, that the half clap in our imaginary scene, came from a white person, because depression is still very much a taboo subject, in most black households. 

“Overly emotional” things like depression aren’t a BLACK thing …In fact, the idea of it is memeable, please see exhibit A  below (from many available on the web);

d meme


 …Add being female to the equation and it’s even more unthinkable! Who, us? No way! The world believes we are strong, independent, fierce, loud… angry? …We are NOT depressed!

Well actually some of us are… Who’d have thunk it? …We are human

It’s a sad but true fact, that most of us suffer alone… We don’t tell friends or family what’s really going on under the layers of “I’m fine” …We rarely seek help, because we’ve got it all under control …On the surface.

To seek help, would be to admit something is wrong.

“…I’m fine”

I get up in the morning, put on my war paint (eyebrow pencil, mascara & lip gloss), go out in to the world and SLAY! I make jokes, chill with friends, hold down a decent job, I’m a leader …I’m a mummy, I do homework and crafts… I workout, I do evening courses, yeah I got hobbies Bish …I get LIFE done!

All whilst falling a part!

I have what they call “High Functioning Depression” which basically means; In public, I pretend I’m ok, really, really, really well 🙂 …To the outside world, I am the epitome of Black Girl Magic (…kind of …almost lol), …It appears to the average Jo that I’m doing just fine… And sometimes, it really is true! Sometimes I really am killing it and feel like I could take on the entire world and its Mum…

…But other times (lots of times) I’m left feeling completely drained by it all…

I get home and shut down. Not because I’m lazy, but because I’ve used ALL of my energy trying to be normal! Whatever that is.

Once I reach the safety of my room, I will literally step out of my clothes and in to my bed, wake up in the morning step in to new clothes …slay …come home, repeat… Step out, step in, step out, step in…

…But “merrily” skipping over and ignoring both the little piles of dirty laundry and also the pretty big issues, that have led me further and further down the rabbit hole of depression really hasn’t been very helpful at all –

Here’s just a few of the Taboo topics I have (unfortunately) had the pleasure of brushing under the carpet;

  • Bullying
  • Death of a parent aged 18
  • Miscarriage
  • Tumour
  • Ectopic pregnancy
  • Called off engagement
  • Post Natal Depression
  • Phantom pregnancy… This one deserves some deets – Def not as exciting as it sounds, everything says you’re pregnant; The pregnancy test, the achey boobs, the morning sickness etc etc but when you go for your first scan, the little sac that your baby should be in is EMPTY… Pretty shit. It’ll get a blog at some point…


The list could go on, but you get the gist and these are topics that you don’t normally bring up over and over again over drinks like

“Oh hey guys remember that time, my entire right fallopian tube burst open? Well I still kinda sorta …Have nightmares about it …And feel a bit like 1/2 a woman… lol! Redbull and coke anyone?”

…It’s just not the done thing. 

You get a couple of weeks max, to share what you can bare to (the tip of the iceberg for me)… And then its just a bit …well …over indulgent really, to keep going on about it.

At least that’s how it feels…

Time to get on with Life asap, before you scare everyone away with you random crying and shouty outbursts about how pissed off you are about stuff...

But you see, the problem is I’m not over any of the above and a whole bunch of other crap I’ve not mentioned…

So it all sits inside, with the other smaller, anxiety inducing things piling up on top of each other like an unstable, mental health addition of Jenga…

Sharing the bare bones of any issue (if that) and keeping most of it in my head… While I just get on with it…

…While the bedroom gets messy and the laundry piles up and the takeaways become more frequent …And I just lay there. 

But everyone goes through stuff, right? And look at them all, just getting on with life, like proper Adults …

At least that’s what it looks like…

But how many of them, have been hiding in plain sight just like me? Pretending to be fine out of fear of being a nuisance, looking weak or being made to feel embarrassed etc etc…

How many people in the room really, really want to clap along to the song from our imaginary scene?

…Something has to change. And I’m starting with me!

My journey has only just begun and there are still some things I feel awks about, BUT the little steps forward I have taken, have shown me that everything is going to be ok… 

Family have rallied round and listened without judgment. Friends have been …well FRIENDS basically! Both, have been what I’ve not allowed them to be before in regards to this subject, my support network!

I made the decision for them, that they wouldn’t be able to help me, without giving them the chance to come through for me… but once I opened the door, they quite literally came rolling in, one after the other! And when needed, they’ve pushed me in the right direction for professional help! (Sometimes you’re gonna need a bit more than a cup of tea and a chin wag to get through it, for real lol!)

My cup of “over thinking” is full and spilling over on to the pages of this blog and flowing freely from my mouth and in to my conversations …and you know what? It feels good!

When writing my first post, I did receive some friendly old school advice regarding myself and the D word and that was …DO NOT MENTION IT! Think of future employees, think of what people might say and… what about a potential boyfriend / husband what might he think about the antidepressants?

…My response? …My first blog post basically lol! 

“A problem shared is a problem halved” 


I need to talk about it!

WE need to talk about it!

I find it much easier to write it out loud, than say it out loud …but it’s getting easier and I’m actually excited about going to my first counselling session… Bring it!

The journey up continues! 

Thanks for joining me! 

Love Bald Font xx







Charity starts at home…

Baby girl & Me x

The house across the road from my childhood home (the home I moved back to in 2015) went up for sale a few months ago.

How lovely would that be? Me and mum on the same street, living our best lives in harmony! Close enough to look out for each other, far away enough to not drive each other crazy … BRILLIANT!

I set to work entering my financial details into the very handy mortgage calculators available on bank websites, but they all kept giving me the same unsavoury results…

…I got the shock of my life when I saw the mortgages “available” to me;

  • Single mum
  • Alright salary
  • Couple of pound coins squirreled away in a savings account.

“Sure you can have a loan for a home… you just need to give us a £££VERY BIG NUMBER deposit!!!”

I died multiple times, right there in front of my laptop screen… Well, almost …The figures definitely gave me palpitations! For real.

I just don’t understand it! I’ve worked my bum off to get to where I’m at and I’m still pushing to be better and go further… I’ve not sat with my hand out waiting for …handouts! …Yet still, it would seem, I have been priced out of London …My home town! What kind of nonsense is this!

So now, by force (well sort of… I totally could just suck it up, but …no!) I’m sticking my hand right out, with karate chop force, in to the universe and saying “I’d like to order a deposit for a home, south of the river Thames thank you, please!” …Don’t come at me with your foolishness “world” and tell me, with you crazy inflated prices, that I can’t buy a house down south! I’m not having it! This is not my portion.

So I’ve done what any deposit needing millennial, who has read the book “The Secret” would do …I’ve started a Go Fund Me… For funds …For me. (Seriously… click Go Fund Me, the hyperlink is live lol!)

Charity starts at …home”

According to the book I simply have to make my order from the universe, believe it is already mine and BOOM! It’s mine! Just like that …So here is my order! Deposit please and thanks… If you don’t ask, you don’t get.

Obviously there’s a teeny bit more to it than that, but if you really want the ins and outs of “The Secret” get the book or watch the film. Thank me later!

If you live in London (and probably even if you don’t) you’ll be aware of the fact that the rent prices on shoebox sized living quarters is sickening and made just a tad worse by the fact that paying a monthly mortgage can be cheaper than paying rent for a room in a shared flat. It’s like they’re mocking us… The stumbling block for most, between being a renter or a home owner, is more often than not, the deposit… that little boost to get the ball rolling.

Which is poop!

Sure I and many others could get the funds together to move in to a shed, round the back of nowhere and live way outside of London and in my case sharing one room with my 9-year-old daughter, quicker than I  and they could get a place across from my Mums house… But who wants to up sticks  and live in isolation away from family and friends, with intermittent depression for company? …Definitely not me!

And once out there (in the wilderness… with the worst sense of direction!) how exactly am I going to work, to be able to pay for this newly acquired dwelling, without my Mum? Have you seen the price of childcare people? I would be working to pay someone else to look after my small person, whilst scraping together the coppers left over, to pay the mortgage …We’d be eating ice for dinner and going to sleep (in our shed) for dessert…

Ok maybe it wouldn’t be quite that dramatic but still… I’m not going!

…So come through universe with multiple small offerings! I know the secret and I’m ready for a home close to home!

Dream BIG! People!

Thanks in advance

Love Bald Font xx 

2019 MUST be better!

vision board 2

“2018 was a teeny bit not ok, 2019 MUST be better”

– Bald Font


So my 2018 didn’t quite go to plan! I started the year screaming This is my year! and ended it screaming “Oh my God, help!

I’d been bobbing along through 2018 like a normal well-rounded adult …I was adulting like a pro! …I mean, there was the tiniest blip around April, when I got signed off work with stress, but I dusted myself off after a couple of days, told no one and rolled back in to life …as ya do!

After that unfortunate episode, I continued skipping along like nothing had happened, until one grey November morning, BOOM! My brain malfunctioned! …It quite literally shut down. I woke up with a terrible headache, went to the Doctors for some migraine tablets and left with a Doctors note, antidepressants and a little card with the contact details for a counsellor!

Not quite what I was expecting that Monday morning, I’d have been happy enough with some pain killers and strict instructions to nap regularly, but no… The doctor said I have depression. Uh oh!

Now, I’m not suggesting you all run out and “catch” depression, but I can honestly say as I sit and type this blog, that it has been one of the best things that could have happened to me! …Mental I know right (no pun intended), but it’s the kick up the bum I needed, to finally PROPERLY get myself together… I’m grabbing my future by the balls, there will be no overdosing on naps for me! I’m going to put myself back together from the inside out.

I’ve decided to actively NOT be depressed! The end.

I have no plan of how to not be depressed, I just know for sure this isn’t for me and I therefore will not be a part of this relationship for long. It’s crap and I don’t want it! …The antidepressants can stay for a while though, they are superb* …but everything else can jog on. 

2018 was a teeny bit not ok, 2019 MUST be better, right? It better be!

I made a vision board last week of all the things I want for my future including starting this blog! So here it is… Yay me! Hopefully before the year is through, I’ll have covered all the bits and bobs on my board and more 🙂

Considering the recent events and a couple of past events too, I’m feeling surprisingly optimistic about the future! …Granted it might be the antidepressants that have put this spring in my step, but still! I’m taking it… and the pills …for now.

You’ll be able to read about how I muddle through life by following “Stories In Bald Font” I hope you’ll enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing …This adventure is going to be epic, tell ya friends!

Love Bald Font xx

*Take drugs responsibly