I first met Karen Jacobson, a little bit before Julia Gillard became the first female Prime Minister of Australia. 

Let’s just say it was in the same era of history, I was a journalist and Karen had returned to her home town from New York, to share her story and wisdom with the students at Mackay North State High School. 

More than a decade later, I watched Karen perform live for the first time, at the Misogyny Opus Not Now Not Ever with the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. 

YOU can’t see it. 

But you can feel the black dog chasing you. 

Part of your life’s strategy is to get on with things.  

Make them happen. 

Then one day you wake up and the pull of your universe’s motivational gravity just drops.

Ton of bricks. 

This week has been an emotional shit show.  

I have felt low. I have felt like a failure. 

Second guessing my abilities and contribution.  

I have cried several times in public, trying to shake off a stubborn feeling that won’t go away.  

It is hard to put yourself out there, for the world to see. You open yourself up to judgement, opinions and beliefs of others.  

DOUBT is one of the most unsettling feelings you can have.  

It sits in the pit of your stomach.  

Doubt feels like you have swallowed your heart, it is uncomfortable, and the beat is out of sync.  

For me doubt decides to crash into my life, when I feel as if I have been successful or had a win.  

Dear Women,

Women like you pave the way for women like me.  It is women like you and your stories that help amplify all our stories as women.

It is important. It is valued and it helps women keep writing their own stories.

Story telling is one of women’s SUPERPOWERS. It has always been a source of connection, our voice of rebellion, a way to share our beauty and to give wisdom.

When you write your own story, you are penning your own history, you are making sure your life doesn’t go unwritten.

Christmas .

It has been written and sung as the most wonderful time of the year.

Amongst the carols heard on high, giving of gifts and the preparation of a feast laid out across the family table there is such a lead up to the day.

It is a time of nostalgia. A time filled with our families - the ones we are born into and the ones we choose.

It is a season of love and kindness. A time to celebrate and say goodbye to the year that was.

What is our reputation worth in an era obsessed with opinions?

Everyone has one- an opinion that is, so when did we decide that opinions and beliefs about someone are true?
I was recently at a business leaders’ dinner and one of the speakers spoke about the importance of our reputation. Her words really resonated with me, that once we strip back our careers, houses, clothes and possessions- all we are left with is our reputation.
Our reputation is one of our greatest assets in life, it works alongside our moral compass, guiding us in what we hope is the right direction.

If you asked most women if they thought they were independent, most would say yes.

It would then be followed by a sharp stab, where they would actually question their answer.

We all know that sharp stab.

One that is made to stop us in our tracks, put us back into place?

I am guilty of using the word should. I am pretty sure my memoir would be: “The woman who should herself.”

Growing up in a girl household, my sisters and I were lucky to go to great school, have a safe home environment and when we were unwell, we had access to healthcare.

Today is the 10th anniversary of International Day of the Girl, a day to recognise that girls around the word continue to face challenges to their education, their physical and mental wellness and the protection for a life without violence.

When this photo was taken of my sisters and I, around 1995 the World Wide Web, had just starting to gain momentum. Before we knew it the internet would change our culture and how we communicate foreve

She closed her eyes as she pulled her swimmers over the curves of her body.

There is anxiety around showing parts of her body, she would prefer to keep in the dark.

We forget that the curves of the shorelines along the beach are beautiful and constant – a reminder that each tide brings with it new stories.

One of the magical parts of growing older is we discover more about who we are as a person.

Like many writers, my thoughts pop into my mind at what might be a bizarre time, but more often than not are delivered just at the right moment.

I was at a bar on the weekend after sharing a lovely meal with a group of friends. As I was there looking around, I noticed a few people I knew, some said hi, while others kept to themselves.

Seasons are not just reserved for a calendar year.

While today marks September 1, the beginning of spring, a moment to rebirth, a time to shake off the chills that have been haunting us.

I feel that we go through so many seasons of our life, and they remind us that we can do hard things and that beautiful things will find us.

Choice.

Easy to be taken away even harder to be guaranteed.

Choice.

It is her option.

Her preference.

A woman’s voice.

Where is the freedom? Hidden in the dark; muffled by his master’s voice.

It is funny how there are still those people in the world who believe kindness is a weakness.

The ones who take advantage of it.

Who believe they are entitled to kindness, despite never leading with or using it.

When you try to be someone with a kind heart, a considerate heart, a shared heart- your heart becomes a beating target.

The other F word.

Frustrated. Frustrating.

And no, I am not talking about “oh how you vex me,” kind of frustrated.

The feeling you get, when you keep showing up, trying to do your best and most of the time taking on a heavy load.

I have never been one for drama.

It makes my skin itch just thinking about it. For years I avoided confrontation, until I did the work, to be able to handle it in a mature way. Don’t get me wrong, my first thought is to hide, or just sweep it under the living room mat, but today I am not afraid of it.

JSP is celebrating seven years today. I decided to pen seven lessons I have learned in that time.

It only seems like yesterday I decided to create JSP and now thanks to so many women in our community it continues to grow and thrive.

Thank you to all the women and collaborators who have helped tell the JSP story while sharing theirs.

We don’t always know people’s stories.

Especially when it comes to their bodies, how they feel about them and their relationship with it.

For many years I have written about body image, even created projects based on the power and beauty of our bodies. I have built a community of building up women, it is one of my favourite things in the world.

We know that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. How our bodies morph over time, how they can change with the seasons of our lives.

Our bodies won’t always look the same.

While we won’t solve all our problems at once, there is power in having a good cry, for me a cry is one of the most undervalued acts of self-love.

We have to give ourselves the time to break down, to acknowledge the pain, disappointment, hurt and stress. To feel uncomfortable in not being together.

EVER had those days. Where you feel out of your body?

Like you are pretending to be yourself?

Maybe you are playing the role of yourself, because you are struggling, maybe your mental or physical health is not doing so well, or you feel like your life is at a crossroads?

Your mind and heart are hurting, and you are trying to be the best version of yourself? Trying to convince yourself and others everything is fine and dandy.